Author's note: Not really my usual style but I had a lot of fun writing this one.

Night had just fallen over the town of Uwendale. But tonight it was not a darkness that was welcomed. Overhead thick, murky clouds hung, blocking out all light from the stars and shrouding the town in further gloom. Underfoot an unearthly mist coalesced; a dark fog that clung to the feet of the people hurrying home to the safety and light of their homes.

Amid the bustle a lone man stood, the hood of his weather-worn coat shielding his face from curious bystanders as he readied himself for what was inevitably coming. His help would be needed here soon enough. The signs were clear enough in the evening air that even the folk of this town, inexperienced and naïve of the horrors to come, were aware enough to scurry to perceived safety. Not soon enough, however, as the black mist rolled in faster and faster, bringing with it the screams of its living victims and the ghastly spirits that hunted within its devouring embrace.

The man threw back his hood, revealing a dark face. His features were handsome, but the grim line of his mouth and the haunted look in his eyes spoke of a lifetime fighting horror and pain. Lucian's expression never changed as his hands automatically found the twin relic pistols resting against his side, pulling them from their place with practised ease before he fired shot after rapid shot of piercing light.

The first round of bullets seared through three malicious spectres across the road from him with practised precision; saving a pair of terrified mortals. The two men sent him brief grateful looks before they continued to race home, desperately hoping to reunite with their loved ones.

The hunter barely noticed their actions, instead pivoting immediately to the spirit reaching behind him and disintegrating the faceless, rotting head with a point-blank shot.

The man then manoeuvred himself into the open, taking a brief moment to assess his surroundings before taking aim again. In rapid succession a feral wolverine creature, a pale gaping spectre and a purple horned ghoul relentlessly seeking passage into the nearby homes were slain, leaving the area eerily still.

This attack was smaller than many he'd seen, however, Lucian noted it was also by far the furthest inland the black mist had ever come. That meant it was growing stronger. Which also meant he needed to be more effective.

Lucian took off into the mist, heading deeper into the town and towards the ever growing sounds of the screams. His pace was slow and he was consistently stalled by the mass of undead creatures that swarmed him, growing more numerous the further into the heart of Uwendale he trekked. But through his steadfast vigilance and determination, the man was able to easily and meticulously eliminate every spirit in his way.

Lucian's steadfast path soon brought him to the centre of the town and to the epicentre of the chaos. In the market square stood a spirit far larger than the others the man had encountered that night. Black tar-like ooze dripped from its emaciated form; its long limbs stretching in all directions as it ripped flesh from the scurrying humans in the market place and snatched souls through the shattered windows of the nearby building shells.

It turned to the dark hunter, face splitting down the middle in a grotesque, jagged smile, as its soulless blue-lit eyes burned into him. "Ssshadow hunnnterrr," the malevolent shade hissed, dropping the deformed carcase it had been feasting on. "I'vvve been waitinggg ffor yoouu."

Lucian kept his eyes fixed on the spirit and away from the lifeless destruction around him, "If you knew I was coming, you should have run while you still had the chance."

The spectre let out a hacking laugh, dark slime flung far from the violent jerking of its form. "Yoouu think you caaan kill mme? I WILL FEAST ON YOUR FLESH!"

With surprising speed, it threw itself at Lucian. The man rolled under its outstretched arms just in time; the spirit's grasping hands barely missed the ends of his long hair, and the trailing edge of his coat. Finding his feet, the hunter fired several shots, each aimed with perfect precision.

Fluidly, the ghoul twisted out of the way, unharmed. Its mouth split in mocking laughter, "Yoouu'lll have to do betterrr tthhann that."

Suddenly, it shot its arms out at him. Lucian dodged the first couple of limbs, manoeuvring to a wide, stable section of ground before he opened fire on the reaching limbs.

The spirit howled in pain as the limbs fell writhing to the ground and it pulled the deformed stumps back into itself.

A scream from the side pulled the man's attention and he swiftly shot down the beastly ghost advancing on a frightened woman. With a screech the creature fell, leaving the petrified woman to swing her gaze towards her saviour.

Lucian froze at the familiarity of the face. Unable to take pull his eyes away from the smooth skin and the almound shaped eyes.

No. It's not possible. She's gone.

The grief buried deep within him threatened to surge to the surface. With all his might, the shadow hunter managed to pull his eyes away and back to the raging sceptre. But his distraction had already cost him dearly.

A clawed hand struck before he could dodge and the man found himself pinned to the ground, the unyielding weight holding him in place as a paralysing cold seeped into his very bones and stole his breath. The spectre leered over him, blue ooze dripping from its mouth and onto the trapped man's face. "Yourrr fffeelingsss make you weak. You trrry to hide your griefff and misssery but they arrre too ssstrong. Too delicciousss."

Lucian sneered at the spirit, struggling to break free but he could not; the sorrow, usually suppressed deep within him, being unnaturally pulled to the surface and drowning his strength and will.

"YES. Sssooo much sorrow. Sssooo much painnn. She meant everryythingg to you didnnn't sshhe? And yet you were botthh too weak. Sshhe too weak to sssee the trrrap. And you, too weak to ssstop her from being takennn. How pathetic. HOW DELICIOUS." The ghoul let out another wheezing laugh.

Pulling together all the hatred and anger within him, Lucian fought the heaviness of his limbs, hand inching towards his gun – towards her gun. Finally, his hand closed around the beloved handle and, with the rest of his might, he fired it point blank at the distracted shade. "Time to die."

The spirit shrieked in pain as the light pierced through its head before it dissolved around the hunter.

Grimly, the man got to his feet. "Now stay dead."

He glanced across at the unknown woman, still sitting where she had fallen in shock before hesitantly offering her his hand. She gratefully took it and he pulled her to her feet. "Are you alright?"

The woman nodded and once again, Lucian was struck by the similarities to his beloved. The full lips, the high cheek bones, even the wide almond eyes, were all eerily familiar. But up close it was obvious the differences too. Her eyes were a different shade, her jawline too wide and above all, she lacked the bright determination and strength that had defined his lost wife.

He looked away, unable to bear a face so similar, and yet so different. "You should be safe now."

"Wait!" She called as he began walking off. "You saved my life."

He didn't look back. "Just an average day for me."

"Can I not repay you?" the woman tried again.

He paused this time, and she noticed his hand going up to a thin sliver of silver just visible around his neck. "No. There is nothing you can offer me here."

And, as the morning sun broke through the last of the black mist's clutches, the hunter departed the town. Once he was a fair distance away, Lucian stopped, once more touching the locket around his neck, though he did not open it.

"Senna," he whispered, a pained expression briefly crossing his face.

Then he turned, intent on pursuing the one he swore to destroy; just as he had every day since his love and his light had been taken from him.