Spy: This was originally supposed to be the beginning for the Little Hunter, but if you ignore Daniel's intoduction, it works as the next part. :D You should read the first part to understand. :D
Linda Tarashi walked slowly up the steps of her home, holding the banister in the darkness. But light emitted itself from her son's room, marking him as the one who had stolen the lamp from her bedside. She sighed, entering, looking around the room, until she found little Marco, dangerously close to a unshaded lamp.
"Marco." Mrs. Tarashi snapped. "You'll set your hair on fire. I need my lamp to read."
"Please momma." The boy whimpered, looking up at her with chocolate colored eyes. "Can't I have it? I feel safe with the light."
Linda sighed, turning her gaze to the assortment of other light giving objects.
"Marco. This isn't funny." She said. "I'm really tired of this. Give me my lamp and go to bed."
The boy's tiny fingers clutched the brass base of the lamp, holding onto it tight.
"Let me keep it momma? They're not bothering me tonight."
That was the last straw.
"No one is in here, Marco." Linda snarled. "You've got to stop doing this. Please."
"One more night momma?" Marco asked, tears welling in his eyes. "Just one more night, please? Maybe they'll be gone tomorrow."
Mrs. Tarashi sighed, throwing her hands in the air.
"I don't know what's going on." She growled. "But Marco, this has to stop. Do it for me, alright?"
The boy nodded, taking a flashlight in his hands, and pointing it at himself. He snuggled underneath his covers, his eyes fluttering shut.
The woman left the room, yawning loudly.
This had been going on for much too long. Something had to be done, before both her and her son lost their minds.
Some say that he was drawn by trouble.
Even others claimed he was a spiritual entity drawn to do good.
But in all truth, Daniel Fenton was just a simple boy, forced into a world he hated and despised.
He was aged about fourteen years, with long black hair that he kept tied with a black ribbon. His skin was paled a ghostly white with cold blue eyes that reflected some form of hardship.
He was resting in the back seat of a black sedan, fiddling with a sweatband he wore on his wrist.
The car was parked near the pump of a gas station, sitting idle while the owner paid for the fuel. Daniel simply sat, humming, waiting for his caretaker to return.
Eventually, the old man walked out of the convenience store, holding a newspaper, two bottles of water…
and a blue slip.
"Vlad, what is that?" The boy demanded when the man opened the passenger door, and set the items on the seat, still holding the paper in his grasp.
"Have you taken to carrying them on your person?"
"Daniel, you know you have a job to do." Vlad replied coldly.
"So now you're telling people about me?" Daniel hissed, snatching the paper away. His eyes scanned over it, softening as he finished.
"Little Hunter, I only said something after I heard the poor woman's predicament." The man whispered. "Something in his room is frightening him. I know how much you hate it when children suffer."
Daniel nodded, setting the paper aside, turning back to the band on his wrist.
"Can I meet her?" He asked, looking Vlad in the face.
"If you feel alright." The man replied, opening the door. Daniel's hand wrapped around a wooden cane, as he struggled to get up. Vlad had to take hold of the boy's arms, supporting him as he got to his feet. Finally, Daniel stood, putting his weight on the cane.
"Thanks." He murmured, making his way slowly towards the convenience store. Vlad paused, watching him.
He looked like an old man.
Vlad helped Daniel into a seat near the window, and went off to get the client. The boy simply rested, leafing through an old newspaper someone had left behind, not even looking up when the man returned.
"Hey Vlad." He said idly. "The Packers lost again. What a shame."
"Little Hunter, hold your tongue." Vlad growled. "This is Linda Tarashi. Her son needs your help, try to show some consideration."
The boy looked up at the timid woman, nodding slightly as she sat across from him. Her face was worn, giving her the look of a woman much older than she was.
"I hear you can help my son." Linda murmured softly.
"Maybe." Daniel replied, setting the paper aside. "Can you tell me a little about what's been going on?"
"He keeps all the lights on at night." The woman continued. He's taken all the lamps and flashlights from around the house, and he keeps them in his room. Then he tells me that they won't hurt him when he has the light."
Daniel sat up, his face softening.
"I wish I had thought of doing that." The boy replied with a smile. "He'll be safe as long as he has the lights on. Smart kid you have there, Mrs. Tarashi."
"Can you fix this?" Linda asked, wringing her hands.
"Yes, I can." Daniel replied. "For you, I'll make it free. No child should have to go through this. Give me your address and phone number, and I'll be over A.S.A.P."
"Thank you, Mr…"
"Fenton." The boy replied. "Daniel Fenton…"
