Hello peoples! I must apologize for the excessively long wait, but let's just say I had 2 AP exams then regular finals, a school musical, an English Festival, and other random events that prevented me from both writing and updating. Luckily for me, it is summer now and I'll be able to write and post at much shorter intervals. Thanks to Lunatic Pandora1, Oak Tree Woman, ben revell, wolf guardian of light, Dark vengeance, theoldman, Lord CrunchCricket, StormRaven333, Master of the Boot, Raptor-Chick,ss talos, and wolf-of-black-flames-kikyo for the reviews. 12 reviews for 1 chapter, I'm honored! Well, enough babbling from me, here's the next chapter. And I'm not sure if I mentioned this before, but I don't own Predator but I own the concept of their story and all of my characters; this applied to all future chapters in this story. Disclaimers are annoying…
Chapter 2: The Coming Storm
Ravyn rubbed under her eyes wearily as she dug through a plethora of papers and documents, each ranging in subjects from new vampires to shape shifter sightings to any other odd occurrence that could potentially be caused by one of the many supernatural beings that inhabited the earth.
The Ash Guild house had been restored in the past year and Ravyn had the luxury of being promoted to the new Ash Guild co-leader. After the death of the original guild head, Vanessa, Jonathan had taken over and taken his most successful former-trainee as his second in command.
The new title had been a bitter-sweet one. Ravyn had always been a decent leader and her new position had gained her more prestige and respect from the other guilds; she also got a really big room though it was now mostly covered in paperwork. She also got to handle the more financial aspects of the guild which enabled her to fund Ivy's research projects on a grander scale; Vanessa has never really held much faith in the sciences.
Unfortunately, as quoted from Spiderman, "With great power, comes great responsibility," though at times Ravyn felt "responsibility" should be replaced with "paperwork". She also had to be the diplomat of the group and Ravyn was never much of a people-person. And of course, the social gossip that unfortunately existed in the guilds had picked up on the fact that Ravyn was one of Jonathan's favorite students and must logically mean that Jonathan promoted her for more than her skills in the guild.
Rumors like that made Ravyn want to take a leaf out of Tarn'se's book and start skinning the people that came up with the rumors.
The most pressing issue though was the vampire conflict, which was getting worse day by day. Masters were sending their fledglings to do battle, not particularly caring about the human casualties. That was the worse part of a conflict for territory amongst vampires. Most vamp Masters kept their fledglings in check a maintained a relatively low profile, but when territory was at stake, vamps didn't give a damn who got hurt and/or killed so long as they got the territory.
And Ravyn, along with all of the others in the guilds, had no clue what was causing the werewolf influx. There were always the occasional loner werewolf or shape shifter that caused trouble, yet so many attacks and incidents indicated that perhaps a new pack had decided to move in.
A stray knock at her door made Ravyn jump, but she called for the person to enter as she typed some random facts and dates onto her computer; she wished that Jonathan would do more paperwork at times, but she understood that he was probably ten times more busy with the main management of the guild, especially in a crisis such as the one they were currently dealing with.
"Speak of the devil," Ravyn thought as Jonathan entered the room quietly, shutting the door behind him. He was tall and had decided to grow his hair longer which now hung in a small ponytail at the base of his head. He had a quiet sense of intelligence and poise that radiated from him; god, Ravyn wished had that sort of aura.
"Ravyn," Jonathan nodded, glancing around the room and picking up some scattered papers that lay on the floor, "You should try to keep a little more organized."
"I'm just a tiny bit busy to be worrying about organization," Ravyn said in a sarcastically sweet voice; it was late, she was tired, and in a bitchy mood.
Jonathan raised a brow at her tone, "You could put Nathan to work on it."
"Yeah, I suppose…" Ravyn continued to type as Jonathan walked to the window and pulled back the blackout drapes, letting a painful amount of sunlight into the room, "Dammit! Jonathan, what the hell…" Ravyn trailed off then spun to look at the clock on her computer: 11 AM.
Holy shit. Ash Guild time was a nocturnal one; in general, almost all hunters were asleep by around 8 AM.
"God, I'm turning into a workaholic," Ravyn moaned dropping weakly onto her desk.
"You've been working hard; I doubt the guild would be in such a good condition if it wasn't for your dedication," Jonathan said softly. Ravyn gave him a small smile; a compliment from Jonathan was worth a lot and both of them knew it.
Ravyn sighed, "I suppose I should sleep… it's just so much work."
Jonathan nodded, "I know, but you'll need your energy."
Ravyn froze, then slowly looked at Jonathan, caution in her tired eyes, "Something tells me you didn't come here just to tell me to go do sleep; dare I ask what I'll be needing my energy for?"
Jonathan sighed, "The Ice Guild just called me; they think they know what's causing the werewolf influx," Jonathan regarded Ravyn carefully before continuing, "They believe the Master Sebastian is sending them out as a preliminary force."
"Oh God no…" Ravyn felt like she was going to pass out, "Are you sure?"
Jonathan nodded, "They've got wind of what pack is attacking, Bloodmark, and it is a badly kept secret that their alpha male and female, Magnus and Cassandra, are close allies of Sebastian. And when I look at it, it is only logical that Sebastian would want Nacht's territory; he's always pined for it and he has a perfect opportunity to get it now.
Ravyn stared at Jonathan for a few seconds then burst out into hysterical laughter. Jonathan's brow creased, "What's so funny?" his tone was concerned.
Ravyn struggled to hold back her laughter, tears glistening in her eyes, "And I thought life could get no worse! When it rains, it pours!"
So much blood…
Tarn'se ripped out another throat, blood splattering his face and chest. The dying yautja in his hands was a young one, probably a year or two away from beginning his training for the kanide amedha hunt.
The youngling would never see the light of another day.
Triple moons lit the small city making the world appear bright as day to Tarn'se's enhanced eyes. The cursed suns of his home world had set mere hours before; he had had to take refuge in a cave for the day after being attacked by his brethren. Now, he had returned with a vengeance.
Jaelre had been leading the meager defense; apparently the Elders didn't believe he would return. Tarn'se quickly cut Jaelre down and the others. Jaelre hadn't been completely dead when the minor skirmish ended so Tarn'se enjoyed a delightful, first full meal of blood. Gods, how could he have been so blind to the glory the vampire virus gifted him? How could he have been afraid? He was weak then, but not anymore.
More of his clan mates ran to kill him, taking foolish shots at his stomach and extremities. He knew only to protect his heart and his neck. Those foolish defenders died by his bare hands. He knew they were only trying to buy time for the females to get the younglings out of the area. Or course, the yautja females would come after him later and could prove difficult to defeat. However, Tarn'se could now become as silent as a shadow. He would simply have to wait for the females to lead him to the younglings: easy prey. The death of their offspring and their failure to protect them would cripple the females, making them reckless and easier to kill.
The night was silent now. The rest of the clan had fled. Even the noises of the creatures in forests that surrounded the yautja city were silenced in awe of the power of the vampire.
The silence was broken by a cruel, high laugh.
Tarn'se spun and jumped when he saw Nacht standing a few feet from him, "My son, what a wondrous thing you have done here! What chaos! Even some of my most beloved fledglings could not have done this! You are truly worthy of the blood that runs through your veins!"
Tarn'se fell to his knees as Nacht approached him, knowing instinctively that Nacht was a stronger vampire than him and he would need to show the proper respect. He felt her long-fingered hand rest on his domed head. He looked up into her grinning face, her fangs long and pearly white. Her voice whispered through his head, "You've done well… we'll finish them all."
Tarn'se purred with pleasure, "Yes, my mistress," he replied, matching her fanged grin with one of his own.
Tarn'se yelped as he hit the floor of his quarters, he legs tangled in the fur blanket he had been covered in. His entire body was covered in thick sweat and his pores emitted a musky scent that stank of fear. His entire body shuddered and shook from nerves. He suddenly gagged and ran for the latrine, vomiting violently until dry heaves gripped his body.
He moved away from the latrine and fell back on his bed feeling weak and sickly. Paya and Cetanu save him, the nightmares were getting worse! He had started to get them sporadically after he had introduced Eve to the Elders. They had been hazy and he could barely remember them when he woke up. Yet, the dreams had become more frequent and more vivid.
He shuddered as he remembered the bliss that he had been in. It was as if he were watching himself and no matter how much he screamed his body disobeyed his command and continued to reap havoc upon his clan.
He jumped and nearly fell off his bed a second time when a loud pounding came from his door. Tarn'se could tell it must be early in the yautja day. Stumbling to the door, and grabbing a light loincloth along the way, Tarn'se deactivated the lock on his door and it slid open to revel a rather disheveled Jaelre.
Jaelre looked as if he had woken to find a kanide amedha face hugger dangling above his face. He too wore a loose loincloth and his entire body was drooped in weariness, "What in Cetanu's hell is going on?"
Tarn'se stepped away from the door and let Jaelre into his room, gesturing to a chair which Jaelre fell into quickly. Locking the door Tarn'se sat on the edge of his bed, "What did you hear?" Jaelre's quarters were located next to Tarn'se's; Tarn'se could only guess at the racket he had been making in his sleep.
Jaelre snorted, "I don't know. It sounded like someone was skinning you alive. Why don't you tell me what I heard?"
"I've been getting… terrible dreams."
Jaelre looked both surprised and relieved, "Dreams? That's all? Well, that's not so…" he trailed off at the look Tarn'se gave him, "What are they about?"
"I dreamed… I had become one… a vampire." Tarn'se dove into the dream, forgotten images coming back to his mind. By the end of it Jaelre was regarding him with a look of concern and apprehension.
"You don't believe you could still be becoming a vampire, do you?"
Tarn'se shook his head, "No. I have no natural thirst for any sort of blood. I enjoy the warmth of the suns of our world on my back. I can eat any and all of our food. It's just these dreams are driving me insane!"
Jaelre seemed to think about it, "I wonder if that human is having dreams too?"
Tarn'se seemed to perk up at that thought, "Well, we could ask her."
"You are allowed to contact the humans?"
Tarn'se grinned, "I'm not prohibited from doing so…"
The stars wavered as a cloaked vessel sped by them, intent on the blue and green world before it. Fire ruptured around the ship as it plunged through the atmosphere speeding towards the ground. Coasting silently as a ghost over the treetops, the vessel settled within a clearing with a hiss and rumble of slowing engines. Blue-white electricity flickered as the cloaking devise that kept the ship invisible deactivated.
The vessel was small, though big enough for one individual. Many scars littered the hull of the ship, whispering of the battles it had seen. However, past the scars and dents, the ship's design was obvious.
It was a yautja ship.
Inside, the walls pulsed with a muted crimson light casting shadows on the dark figure that sat in the pilot's seat. Her frame was short, but lithe with taunt muscle that hinted at the yautja's speed and stealth. Reds and browns freckled her dark yellow skin, patches of black breaking up her skin's symmetry. Dark orange eyes stared coldly at the computer monitor as it spat out statistics about the ship. Her armor was a dull black-bronze, the metal used in older style weapons and, like her ship, dull and worn with over usage.
Her mask, however, was a work of art. Metal ridges and carvings completely covered the silver mask, a fierce battle between two yautja, one male, one female, was delicately engraved and inlaid with glossy black stone on the large crown of the mask.
The female slowly pulled herself out of her seat, stretching her back languidly and rolling her shoulders; she had been aboard her stuffy ship for far too long. She exited the cockpit and made her way to the exit of the ship pausing for a moment to glance at the skulls that hung on her trophy wall.
Dozens of skulls of all species and sizes dominated the wall. She smiled maliciously as she reached out and stroked the bone ridge that made up the crown of one of the many yautja skulls that hung silently on the wall. She looked upon this one fondly; it belonged to an Arbitrator that had nearly captured her once, though she had outsmarted her in the end.
A flash of the battle came back to her mind. She had the Arbitrator pinned and was slowly bleeding the warrior to death, basking in the exquisite agony that she knew the Arbitrator felt every second. She had started to stand, thinking the Arbitrator dead, when the Arbitrator had grabbed a hold of her dreadlocks, pulled her face down and slammed a tiny vial of kainde amedha acid against her forehead. The acid ate away at her flesh, leaving a starburst scar and, more importantly, destroying all remnants of her Blooding mark and marking her permanently as a Bad Blood.
She had immediately decapitated the Arbitrator in her anger. She could no longer return to any foreign clans, unless in secret. Before, she could have taken on any random pseudonym, but her destroyed mark signaled to any yautja that saw her that she was a criminal with a death sentence on her head.
She was Zet'rov, once one of the most highly esteemed trackers in her clan. However, she was also known to toy with her prey, torturing it for pleasure and amusement. Originally, her behavior was ignored as an adolescent tick. Later, though, the Elders began to take notice of the rumor of her sadistic nature, both on hunts and towards other hunters. The High Elder of her clan had commanded her to stop.
She skinned him alive.
That particular action naturally didn't go over well with the rest of the Elders; they demanded her death, but she escaped, killing two Arbitrators in the process. She had been hunted ever since but had always managed to evade her trackers, being a skilled tracker herself.
And now she had come to Earth, deciding a few human skulls would look good on her wall.
As the ship's door opened and the ramp extended, Zet'rov basked in the chill Earth air that whipped into the ship, a stray thought blinking through her mind.
Time to kill.
And the plot thickens. I've got plans for this story. Please review and I'll try to get another chapter up within the next 2 weeks!