Katniss Everdeen – Demon Hunter
The way this challenge works is each author takes on a chapter. There is a special outline given to participating writers from which they write. Once that is complete, it is posted here for readers to enjoy. Each author has about three weeks from the time the previous author posts to write their chapter. At the end of the chapter, the writer posts a plot twist for the following writer. It is an experiment that depends on the good-faith of our writers and we appreciate your taking the time out to read this.
Chapter 1 – The Clear-Eyed Goddess (ct522/titania522)
When the pulsing alarm went off, Katniss had to suppress the urge to smash it against the concrete walls of her warehouse apartment. She lay a few moments longer, enjoying the delicious tendrils of sleep as they slowly receded, leaving her to wake in the damp chill of an unseasonably cold October evening. She'd fallen asleep almost as soon as she could pull her torn tank-top and ripped leather pants off of her battle-worn body and drag herself into a hot shower to scrub the gore and grime from her hair and skin. It had been a rough night – a long while since she'd had to fight three demons off at the same time. The poor devils didn't realize the odds were against them – even on nights when there were no underworld creatures to tame and destroy, Katniss maintained her vigilance. She was a lethal instrument of destruction – the very best of her kind.
She stretched her body, moving into the Savasana pose that she'd been utilizing for centuries before yoga had become a suburban fad. Her body did not age and was changed slowly but she was not fully immortal either and therefore took great pains to take care that her body did not forget how to survive the dark creatures that plagued the mortal world. She was a warrior and fighting was as much a state of mind as of body. Her routine helped to keep her focus on the reason for which she existed – to keep the human world safe from the torments of the underworld. After all, she had not willingly chosen this existence – it had been a long-ago act of loving sacrifice and she was determined to carry out her responsibilities to the best of her ability.
As happened every day and night of her long, twilight existence, Katniss thought back to the reason for her condition, the factors that had created the necessity of her taking on the mantle of Demon Hunter, a state of incredible power and yet also of relentless abnegation. Like the lilting songs they sang as children in the wild meadows of her ancestral home, her younger sister's face floated before her, causing her heart to seize with mournful longing. They'd lived in innocent simplicity, a situation brought on by the unfavorable marriage of her high-born mother with her highlander father. Lady Samara was of the noble house of MacGregor of the Scottish highlands but ran off with Campbell of the Everdeen clan the moment she heard him singing at the annual Beltane festival. As the name of the festival implied, it was a celebration of fire and appropriately, the all-consuming fires of Samara and Campbell's love had been kindled there.
This act of passionate elopement resulted in the loss of Samara's titles and wealth but, when mother spoke of it, she swore to her daughters that what she had gained in return was a life rich in love and the bounty of two magnificent daughters – her fierce grey-eyed Katniss, in body and spirit the image of her proud father and sweet Primrose, gentle as the song of the mourning doves they woke to in the early mist-drenched hours of dawn. Even at a young age, Katniss had demonstrated her ferocity as a hunter with her horse-hair bow and finely sculpted arrows, defying the expectations for highland girls in an age very different from the one in which girls were raised today.
Katniss donned her gloves and unlatched the heavy punching bag, tapping it slowly to warm her muscles but as the memories came over her, her blows became fiercer and angrier. Her destiny had ensnared her in chains of unbreakable inevitability the moment her clan had been attacked by the warmongering McLeods of the north. Even with the alliance of the Hawthornes and Undersees, their clans had not been able to resist the ravenous thirst for conquests of the northern warriors. It was then that Katniss experienced the grip of evil that forced her down the lonely path she walked today – the murder of her mother and father, the hellish captivity together with her sister as she and her clans-women were dragged through the dark woods of the Scottish forest. There was no question what fate awaited them; mere chattel to be used for the pleasure of brutes.
It was then that her salvation arrived to both liberate and bind her for eternity.
She never learned the name of the apparition that had come to deliver them from their captivity. She only remembered the eyes, a burnished gold the color of honey interspersed with bronze, lit up by a light internal to the creature. The hair, the eyelashes – an exquisite being of such luminous virtuosity that she could barely look it in the face and even in the condition of being caught between strange supernatural beings and the proximity of a humiliating death, every atom in her body quivered before its beauty. To think that her sister would become something like that quieted her blood somewhat.
He was there by virtue of their blood and a prophecy written in the ancient stones of the druid sacrificial stones:
Two sisters, born of the eternal house of the forest -
One the soft lady of morning;
One the clear-eyed goddess of night
One to herald the light of the souls of men
One to battle the dark creatures of the damned -
Will destroy the reign of Winter.
The gentle, radiant angel, for she had no other description for what it was, explained the awful compromise. They would both live but not in the form they were used to. And they were free to choose their fate – there was nothing in the prophecy that indicated which sister would hold the light, and which would be bound to the night. But to Katniss, there was no other choice to be made. The soft blond braids and powdered innocence of Prim's blue eyes were not made to do battle with the darkness.
And so Katniss had taken the dark prophecy onto herself. She watched as Primrose ascended into the ranks of what she later learned were the Guardians. Their salvation meant they would be separated forever by their duties, as the sun must forever be hidden from the moon. Katniss had screamed her grief into the night but it was rage that would fuel her for centuries thereafter; the fire that consumed the host of invaders that night as they tried to escape her newborn powers. It was not a good night to have the name McLeod as she chased down every last warrior until the tree trunks of the forest were stained with their blood. It was then that she'd tasted the bitter draught of vengeance and found it was a flavor that would never leave her mouth again.
Even with her power, her greatest obstacle was fear. Katniss had seen creatures so terrifying, beings so bent on hatred and destruction that even now, she sometimes wished she could turn away from the stench of evil and hide under the rustling folds of her mother's skirts. She almost died of terror the first time her bow, which had mysteriously appeared beside her that fateful night, whispered where she should go, what her duty was, and how to find the others like her. Instead of meeting her ilk right away, she had stumbled upon a half-breed so sadistic, Katniss had barely been able to fight it off, all the while wailing in desperation. Because she was alone in the universe, and no one heard her cries…
Katniss' reverie was interrupted by the snapping of metal and the simultaneous sound of smashed glass. Her blows had flown so powerfully, she'd sent the punching bag through the window of her flat. Wiping the stream of sweat that had broken out over her brow, she shook her head to rid it of the memory of that awful night. She'd taken on this persona and all of the denials it represented – deep friendship, companionship, love – but she accepted, even embraced it with stoic fatalism. Somewhere, in a place of light and goodness, was her sister. Safe and eternal. She could endure this for an eternity, if she had to. This was her only comfort.
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When she had fully dressed, she slipped out onto the fire-escape and slid down the unused ladder to the damp ground. At first, all she could see of him was the burning tip of his smoldering cigarette but as she got closer, Gale's familiar features came into focus. His thick hair was dark brown tonight, which made him look so much younger than other nights, when he painted his hair every color under the sun. Katniss and Gale resembled each other so much, they looked like brother and sister – the same clear-grey eyes, ebony colored hair and olive skin. In fact, they were distant cousins – the Everdeens and Hawthornes shared a common ancestry and at one time formed two sides of the triumvirate of clans of middle Scotland. The third was the Undersee clan and, like Gale and Katniss, the only survivor of that clan was Madge Undersee.
She was wrong about the cigarette – it was an electronic cigarette, an elaborate ebony-colored shaft with two solid gold bands around the middle. Simple. Elegant. Probably cost him a fortune.
He caught her staring at the cigarette and smiled. "Hey, at least it's not a Shisha Stick. I have class, you know."
Katniss rolled her eyes at him, picturing in her mind a diamond and Swarovski crystal-studded device that was ultra-tacky in addition to being ultra-expensive.
"It's still smoking, Gale."
"Yeah, but these do a lot less harm. Come to think of it, the other ones didn't do any harm either, at least to me. But with these, you can get different flavors. I'm smoking mint green tea tonight." He said as he took another puff.
She took a whiff of the vapors and was reluctant to admit that the herbal and minty smell actually pleased her. "Like I said. It's still smoking."
Gale slung his arm around her shoulder. "Big difference. Trust me."
Katniss shrugged as they walked down the wide avenue. "We're heading to Hoboken tonight." She muttered.
"Yeah, that's what my bow's telling me too. Sucks." Gale groused.
Katniss simply nodded. Hoboken was now part of the Gold Coast. Enterprising developers had bought out the entire waterfront facing the City from Hoboken all the way up to West New York. The inner areas were still interesting and diverse, filled with pockets of Polish, Italian, Indian, Puerto Rican and Portuguese immigrants but the coast itself was populated with exclusive high-rises and gated residences, while a bustling mini-Wall Street stole trading firms from across the river and lured them with cheap rent and low taxes to downtown Jersey City. The multitude of clubs and restaurants were filled with young urbanites or college students looking to get drunk or get laid (mostly both). The old area had lost its charm of 30 years ago, when Hoboken could still boast of being the blue-collar hometown of Frank Sinatra. Somehow, the move from cozy neighborhood bars and old railroad brownstones to a chic club-hopping strip and refurbished buildings had destroyed the town's credibility. Katniss understood why Gale did not enjoy visiting the place anymore.
"Used to be, people could walk down to the waterfront and go crabbing at all hours of the night. Now, you can't even get near the water without police running you off." complained Gale.
"We can go where we want." Katniss said, trying to cut off his usual rant against privatization and Capitalism because that's where all his rants ended up.
"The world isn't for us, Catnip. We can do almost whatever we want. But the world belongs to them…" Gale cocked his head toward the teaming traffic, "It makes me angry that a handful of human beings think that, because they're rich, they have the right to enjoy their advantages at the expense of everyone else."
"It's been like that for an eternity, Gale. As long as people have been around." observed Katniss.
"Doesn't make it right." He said softly. "Those instincts are encouraged and fostered by the underworld."
Katniss took a deep breath at what looked like the start of their usual argument. "Those instincts are not all the responsibility of the dark world. Human beings carry the seed of darkness inside of them. It doesn't require a whole lot for them to go off the rails."
Gale shook his head. "I agree that we carry a propensity for evil inside of all of us but I think there is more good than evil in people. It can be cultivated."
"For some, I think you are right. But for others - not. I think some people are just worse than others. Individuals tend to give in to their baser instincts very easily."
Gale stopped and suddenly turned towards Katniss, forcing her to stop also. "You would have more faith in humanity if you would let yourself be less miserable." He said, a look of compassion suffusing his features.
Katniss' eyes blazed with a burst of her impetuous temper. "Why don't you worry more about the blood-thirsty nightcrawlers and Nephilim and leave my personal misery to me?
Gale threw his hands up in defeat and fell silent as they made their way to the last ferry ride of the evening. They could have taken the underground, especially on a blustery evening like this but Katniss preferred to take the ferry anytime she could and had the schedule practically memorized. She loved the sound of the swishing water, the engine whirring dully through the waves. It was a sound that reminded her of home – the lonely hum of the wind on the coastline in the early morning grey while the sea crashed at her feet. She observed the lonely figure of the Stature of Liberty, standing proud and alone in the middle of the waves, greeting everyone in the port with a bored distraction, as if she didn't have the patience anymore to do what she'd been doing for so long. Katniss could identify with her – lonely, fulfilling an obligation that barely excited her any longer, if it ever did - wishing she was anyone else than the person she was now.
It was easy for Gale to talk. He at least had Madge.
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They made their way down towards the Institute. Housed in old brick buildings, perched carefully on the edge of the rock outcropping overlooking the Hudson River, The Institute was a noble, old place. Katniss didn't know what happened within those walls but she knew that it had a good reputation. She stemmed the endless fountain of longing that resided in her chest when she watched students trickle out of the campus library. She would have given any amount of money to be one of those students, lost in their books and oblivious to the constant pulse of drama that existed just beyond the circle of their little lives.
At the end of the campus was the George G. Howard building overlooking the rocky outcropping that represented the highest point on campus. The building itself was the tallest one in Hoboken and stood like a miniature chihuahua, defiantly facing down the truly enormous mastiff skyscrapers of the Wall Street district right across the river. If someone had asked Katniss how she knew she needed to be here, tonight, of all places, she would not be able to explain the way her bow spoke to her and led her where she needed to go. Some nights it was silent and she could immerse herself in the solitude of her small home. But on the nights she was drawn out to the cold, dark corners of the city, it was less a message in spoken words than a melody that invaded her mind and carried her to the places where she was most needed. Lately, her bow had been keeping her busy and on some fortunate nights, Gale's crossbow would lead him to her also, mitigating the solitude of her demonic hunts.
As they descended the rocky outcropping by way of a maintenance path along the face of the almost non-descript cliff, they heard before they saw the small group. A low chant drifted in the midst of the high bushes on a flat slab of rock cantilevered from the vertical stone face. It seemed like a terribly obvious spot to carry on a ritual – the river wasn't that wide across and a blast of inhuman light from a spell would be clearly visible against the darkness of the outcroppings to the apartment windows of the high-rises facing the town. However, there was powerful magic at work tonight and someone – a warlock or witch - had thrown up a cloak of invisibility and maintained it against the prying eyes of mortals. Humans might be deceived by this trick but Katniss, Gale and the whole race of Demon Hunters were immune to such subterfuge.
There was a group of six, four of whom were enormous in size compared to the two shorter people, the ones Katniss assumed to be human. One was clearly the leader, as he led the ritual and held a knife that he was heating over an iron basket of coal briquettes. The four hulking forms made something clench inside of Katniss. She recognized them as Nephilim, half-human, half demon creatures without souls or conscience. They were tall and unbelievably beautiful, true to their supernatural roots but ruthless and cruel like no other earthly creature could ever be. They had tremendous appetites – they ate with gusto, enjoyed comforts and wealth and bedded women like Lotharios. It was their appetites that held them in check and kept them from worse excesses for they loved carnal pleasure and had discovered long ago that it was easier to satisfy them if they remained incognito among humans.
Nephilim were traditionally associated with the time of Noah, when fallen angels desired human women and lived among them, fathering these creatures but they actually existed long before the flood. These were the type of creatures that Katniss was tasked to hunt and either destroy or capture.
The pentagon on the ground glowed with an eerie, yellow light as the hunched figures moved in unison around it. Katniss' hairs stood on end – despite the urban myths surrounding pentagons and witchcraft, it was rare for these rituals to actually take place. For them to occur, they required powerful magic not only to sustain the rites but to control the consequences. And certainly, humans were never a part of those rites. Unless…
"Gale, it's a Blood Ritual!" Katniss hissed.
Gale froze as he took in what Katniss said. "No one's done a Blood Ritual in almost a eighty years." he said.
"Some foolish mortal is trading in their soul. They don't know what they're asking for." She exclaimed in exasperation. "It's an abomination!" The last time a human gave up their soul in exchange for power, it eventually resulted in World War II and the destruction of millions of human lives.
Gale flipped his crossbow out from under his long leather coat. "You ready to bust up this party?"
The adrenaline began to course through Katniss' veins. As terrifying as these creatures were, she was a hunter at heart and there was something about tracking and conquering them that stirred her bloodlust. She was sitting on centuries of frustration and anguish and nights like these went a long way towards helping her gain some temporary relief.
Winking in a rare display of flirtatious abandon, she gave Gale a hungry smile. "Let's bring Haymitch something he can set on his mantle." She practically purred, invoking the name of the oldest known Demon Hunter and their sometimes leader, when Katniss cared to acknowledge him.
The night air rushed by them as they loaded their arrows. The finely wrought tips came alive with an unearthly glow – it was made with one of the rare alchemic substances that could take down a Nephilim long enough for a Hunter to capture or destroy it. The arrows sprung from their bows in unison, slicing the air with a high pitched whine that no human could hear but by the time the arrow had announced its presence, two of the Nephilim were already on the ground.
However, the other two leapt with lightning speed in the direction of Gale and Katniss. The advantage of surprise was gone yet Katniss let another arrow fly, knowing in advance it would not hit the target for the Nephilim were incredibly fast and once warned, would not allow themselves to be pierced by an arrow. She heard the blows as Gale grappled with the larger of the two creatures. Katniss leapt to an inhuman height and connected her heel against the side of the beast's head, a blow that would have shattered a human being's cranium and likely separated the head from the neck but this creature only staggered back, catching Katniss' other leg by the knee and flinging her into the bushes.
Katniss gasped as the branches scraped her face and neck, her shoulder landing against the rock face. She turned quickly and pulled out her short blade, slicing blindly at the vegetation around her. The creature was upon her again as she swung her blade outward, slicing the front of his tunic open, a spurt of blood landing on the front of her jacket. He looked down in shock, a snarl escaping his lips at the sight of so much blood. Taking advantage of the momentary distraction of the Nephilim, Katniss leapt again, this time bringing her boot down at an angle against his shin, satisfied when she heard the snapping bone and howl of the beast. Before he could take in his defeat, Katniss lifted her short knife and brought it down resolutely to pierce his heart. A familiar light exploded from the point of impact and Katniss stepped back to allow it to envelop the creature until it faded and the spot where the beast knelt was suddenly empty, the short knife clattering noisily to the ground.
Stretching her hand out, Katniss willed the knife to return to her, catching it when it flew into her palm and sprinted to where Gale was cornered by not one but three Nephilim. She pulled out an arrow and cocked it, cursing as she saw that their arrows of earlier had not pierced the giant's hearts. Gale used the momentum from the hurtling body of one Nephilim to knock a second one on his feet. However, the third monster brought his giant fist down on the side of Gale's head. Katniss let out a scream when she saw her companion collapse and she let fly the arrow, watching as this time it found its mark and the Nephilim dissolved into a bath of light.
She turned her attention to the other two who were coming to their feet, a slow smile spreading across both of their faces. They were devastatingly handsome; one giant shook the dirt out of his light brown curls, his emerald green eyes bursting with the light of the full moon. His partner was similar in appearance but bronze in color and reminded Katniss of the pictures she had seen of Achilles, son of Peleus. It was whispered among the Hunters that many of the Greek heroes of the Trojan War had been Nephilim. The fairer one practically salivated as he slowly appraised Katniss, letting his eyes rake lasciviously over her body. "We know you, Katniss Everdeen. You are a scourge to our kind." He laughed lustily at her as he cracked his bloodied knuckles. "Marvel, we will have our sport with this one, won't we?"
Satisfied that he was as clean as he could get under the circumstances, Marvel glanced nervously around him. "I relish the thought of hearing this one scream, Cato, but what of the humans?"
Cato gave a derisive laugh. "We will find them soon enough and complete our business. In the meantime, we have a tasty morsel here to enjoy."
Katniss felt her fear fueling her rage as she crouched in a fighting stance. "Why can't you things ever just die quietly? It's always a fucking soliloquy with you." She pulled a second knife from her belt. She had barely balanced it in her hand when she felt a heavy weight tackle her from behind, knocking the knives and the wind from her. She felt like every bone in her back had shattered into a million pieces as she barely brought her arms up to protect her chest and head from the impact the Nephilim's body as they crashed to the ground. She felt the rumble of the creature's laughter reverberate through her body, the burst of hot air exploding across her cheek.
"Why do you listen to us?" Cato laughed as he approached her. The Nephilim behind him pulled her backwards by her arms until she was kneeling down before Cato. She struggled but her arms were effectively pinned behind her. She jerked her head back, connecting with the beast's nose, a wail of pain and anger exploded into the air but still he didn't let go.
"Feisty woman! I think you cracked Brutus' nose." said Cato appreciatively as Brutus let out a stream of swear words both modern and ancient. "We like our women with spirit."
Katniss heaved in anger and was completely unprepared for Cato's boot as he sent it into her side. She could swear she felt something rupture inside of her and bit her lip until she drew blood to keep from crying out.
Cato knelt down, bringing his face directly before hers. "Don't worry, when we are done with you, you'll be squealing like a pig. There is a lot of Nephilim blood on those hands of yours."
Katniss recovered from the pain long enough to gather a wad of spit and launch it into Cato's eye. If she was going to die, it was best if they got angry enough to off her quickly.
Cato wiped his face and then, with the slick palm, landed a loud slap on Katniss' face, the force strong enough to loosen a molar. Katniss' vision started to swim with the impact and the pain of the blow to her side and she began to truly fear that she would not escape this impasse. She cast a glance over at Gale's unmoving form and she began to hope that he was dead. There was no end to the cruelty these Nephilim could unleash on a Demon Hunter.
Her morbid thoughts were interrupted by a cry from Marvel as Katniss lifted her eyes just in time to see him slump to the ground. Before Cato could recover from the shock, a creature at least as large as him picked him up off of the ground and with a roar, launched him over the cliff and into the freezing Hudson River.
As if in slow motion, he turned and Katniss' blurred vision was riveted by the most incredible sight she had ever seen. It was clearly a Nephilim – tall as the tallest among them and broad-shouldered, the fabric of his black t-shirt stretching almost painfully over the muscles of his chest. His blond hair whipped carelessly in the biting wind but it was his eyes that arrested her. They were the bluest eyes she had ever seen – eyes that called to mind the endless blue of a summer day, the deep lapis lazuli of a fine Indian sari. He was something beyond beautiful. He stalked towards her with determination and Katniss forgot to feel fear - despite his attributes, he did not have the edge of ferocity the other's possessed. She was overcome by his perfection, every cell in her battered body coming to attention and despite the pain and her fading consciousness, she had never felt so much need in her long life.
Brutus released his grip on her so suddenly, she slumped to the ground, her head slamming into the pavement. As the world around her faded to black, all she could make-out was a cry of agony and Brutus' protests against the stranger.
"Peeta, what the hell are you doing?" screeched Brutus as the blows resounded through the air, the end of the question soon swallowed by a thick crack followed by a deafening silence that merged with the dark fog that creeped over Katniss, causing her to fade to black with the name of her savior on her lips.
Plot twist:
Katniss wakes in her apartment, cleaned and wrapped in bandages, a worried Gale sitting close by. She is completely confused by the mystery of this Nephilim's appearance and, even more, by him saving her and Gale from Cato, Brutus and Marvel. Everything she's known until now about the Nephilim is called into question. She sets out to solve this mystery.
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A million thanks to all of the lovely ladies who volunteered to co-write this fic with me. I must give a tremendous round of thanks to my co-moderator and author of Chapter 2, Miss Maia (thesagaciousowl) who made sure my world building made sense. Also, I must ever bow before the divine SolasVioletta, beta par-excellence who tolerates my demands and is just brilliant at what she does. I send a giant hug also to Plumgal1899 and Famousfremus whose enthusiasm and willingness to read through my fic and offer suggestions made this chapter and this endeavor so much better.
If you'd like more information about the world within which Katniss functions, check out the Glossary post in this collection. It will answer all your questions about who all the supernatural creatures are in this story.
Disclosure: While I do use actual locations, I've altered the physical topography of The Institute. There are no rocky outcroppings at the foot of the buildings. I also modeled The Institute on the actual campus of Stevens Institute of Technology, which is really a gorgeous campus in the middle of the adorable town of Hoboken. However you can't blame Katniss and Gale from fondly remembering the colorful history of the town.
Inspired by a mish-mash of the following: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Incarnations of Immortality (Piers Anthony), Mortal Instruments; Gem of Souls was suggested to me by Miss_Maia.
I don't anything related to The Hunger Games Trilogy.