Author's Note: Hunter: the Reckoning – my new obsession. I've finally decided to write something upload-able, just to satisfy myself, if only for a short while. I'd appreciate it if someone, in their review, mentioned whether or not they'd like to hear more about this character's adventures. Then again, there's more about copyrighting I'd have to worry about. But it's only my GM. cough In case you're wondering, the name Chyna did come from an outside source. Well, enjoy, my friends. Don't forget to tell me what you think.
Oh, and remember – it's not good to obsess. Look where it's gotten me. ¬.¬
P.S. I revised the end of this to work better. Just so you know.
For What You Truly Are By Deus Magi
===
Normal; accustomed; commonplace; habitual; typical; regular; run-of-the- mill; standard; traditional...
Chyna spent hours reading the synonyms for the word "normal". Her old computer spat out the search results as if mocking her, suddenly finding speed in her worrisome demeanor. A 48K dial-up connection, barely running on what little memory it had, was mocking her. The cruel irony of it all did not come to her until days after she had left it running in her abandoned apartment, nothing remaining but the foul sense that the Reaper had once visited the place.
The night had been an eventful one.
Summer break had just begun, and Chyna was on her way home from the store after grocery shopping. All around her, high schoolers she knew ran freely, excited that finally they would have no more homework for the next two and a half months. All of them, so jovial about their freedom. Chyna felt as though their happiness was misplaced. An unshakable feeling of dread clouded her thoughts, and she could find no joy behind the release from schoolwork.
An old apartment complex loomed before her. She saw the door to her own tiny "home" clearly from where she stood. Her deceased father's car, an Oldsmobile, sat contentedly in its usual parking stall. Next to it, a familiar vehicle that did not lighten Chyna's mood in the least. Sighing, readjusting her grip on the grocery bags, she began her ascent to the second floor. Chyna was forced to set the bags down in order to open the door. Every time she turned that knob, she was painfully reminded of just how poor she was. The door had no lock.
All the income she managed to snag from her part-time job was spent on computer upkeep. Her mother, old enough to live on welfare but stubborn enough not to admit it, stayed at home most of the time. Her money was spent on cigarettes and coffee and anything else she could afford. She continued to insist that she would purchase a lock for the door eventually, but for the sixteen years that Chyna had lived, the door had never gotten one installed. Regardless, the only thing worth stealing in their apartment was the old computer Chyna had managed to keep since she was a child, but no one would want it anyway.
The door swung open. Chyna grabbed the groceries and stepped inside. "I'm home," she called, only then realizing how tired she was. She had gotten very little sleep in the past few days, the strange feeling of some nearby threat teasing her into the wee hours. When she did manage to fall asleep, her dreams were littered with strange messages that not even Joseph, King of Dreams would be able to decipher.
The apartment was lit by candles. No windows offered light from the waning sunset, and a high electric bill was the last thing they needed. Chyna's mother sat on a loveseat sofa, the only piece of furniture besides a desk and a few chairs. Next to her sat her boyfriend, Ezekiel. The first thing Chyna did when she had been introduced to the man was ponder the name. People rarely had bizarre names nowadays – it was practically asking to be made fun of. But she knew better. The only reason her mother was involved with any man was to try to squeeze some manner of funding out of him. If it brought them any closer to a better home, or even a lock on the door, so be it.
Chyna was greeted by a cheerful wave from her mother and a toothy grin from Ezekiel. Chyna returned the wave, wearily smiling at Ezekiel. She dumped the groceries on the kitchen counter, the only thing separating the living room from the refrigerator and stove. The only other rooms in the apartment were the bathroom and a bedroom just large enough to fit a one-person bed inside. The most they had in the way of a TV was a tiny black-and-white television from before Chyna was born. It got just as many channels as it would have back when it was made, and she often speculated upon selling it while her mother was out.
"Go on, Ezekiel," Chyna's mother urged. "What did you do after that?"
Chyna groaned below her breath. Once again, her mother was doing everything she could to win Ezekiel's affection. Every day was the same – she would sit and listen to him talk about his own eventful life while drinking coffee. Either Chyna only managed to get home right at the boring part, or Ezekiel just was not a very lively person. Tonight was different, though, if not immediately apparent. As Ezekiel chattered on, Chyna sensed that feeling again – something was wrong. Something was...off.
Groceries in the refrigerator, Chyna went to her computer. A sigh of relief shook her body as she collapsed into the chair before it. The computer took nearly five minutes to turn completely on. She connected to the internet, glad to see that a friend of hers was on AIM.
---
Message to Squigigigee – 5/20/19XX – 5:47 PM:
Asia47: Evenin' Squeege.
Squigigigee: How's it hanging?
Asia47: Same old. Finally managed to get off my feet.
Asia47: You?
Squigigigee: Heh. Sounds like you've had a rough day. I don't think I should rub it in.
Asia47: You're probably right. Lol.
Asia47: Anything interesting happen while I was wasting away in school?
Squigigigee: Nothing of particular note, I'm afraid. Ever since the schools got out things have been rather slow.
Asia47: I can understand that. People are probably just grateful to get out. [sigh] If only I could feel that...
Squigigigee: Something bothering you?
---
Chyna thought for a moment. Squeege had gotten her through thick and thin for at least two years now since she'd met him. A friend of hers, Tentra, had introduced them. "I know someone who can help you out," Tentra had told her one day. Chyna had been feeling especially alone that day, in need of some wise words of comfort to pull her through. Squeege seemed just the guy to do it, and they had been friends ever since.
'Should I tell him?' Chyna thought hesitatingly. She shook her head. 'What am I so worried about?'
---
Asia47: Yeah... I'm not sure what it is, but something's making me real uneasy lately. I feel like someone's watching me all the time. It's like... I can't trust anyone now.
Squigigigee: ...
Squigigigee: That is odd.
Asia47: Any advice?
---
Squeege did not reply for a long time. Chyna felt suddenly self-conscious, as if she had just given something away that should never have been revealed.
'Come on, you idiot,' she chided herself. 'It's Squeege!'
---
Squigigigee: Well, the only thing I can think of is that your subconscious is telling you that something bad is on its way. If I were you, I'd watch my back.
Asia47: What? Are you kidding me?
Squigigigee: Hey, you asked.
Asia47: Lol. Whatever. Listen, I have to make dinner. My lazy mom's too absorbed in her boyfriend's lame-ass life to get off the couch.
Squigigigee: No problem. I'll be around.
Asia47: Talk to you later. :)
Squigigigee: See you.
Squigigigee: And remember, be careful. That subconscious warning thing could be more genuine than you think.
Asia47: Sure thing.
---
Chyna closed down the program and put her computer to sleep. She did not plan on making more than instant Ramen for herself. If her good-for-nothing mother wanted something, she would have to pry herself from the death-like grip that Ezekiel had managed to make around her.
The Ramen was never enough to fill her up. But at least if she was never able to eat enough food, Chyna reminded herself, she wouldn't be fat as well as ugly. She sighed again, the third time in an hour. She washed the pot in the sink and went back to her computer.
---
Message to Squigigigee – 5/20/19XX – 6:02 PM:
Asia47: Squeege? You there?
Squigigigee: As always. How was dinner?
Asia47: Less filling than I would have hoped. Have you eaten yet?
Squigigigee: Good question. I think I managed to choke down lunch today.
Asia47: Oh, right. Sorry, I forgot you're not feeling well.
Squigigigee: You know, I never even realized it until the other day. It's been going on for... quite some time.
Asia47: It happens. Just get better, alright? I don't need you dying on me or anything.
Squigigigee: Heh...
---
A dry chuckle shook Chyna's body. Her bones creaked as she adjusted her posture, and her tiredness came flooding back to her. She rubbed her eyes, yawning.
---
Asia47: I think I'll turn in.
Squigigigee: This early?
Asia47: Yeah, sorry. Well, see you around.
Squigigigee: Later.
---
The twelve-year-old monitor blinked off. Chyna stared at the dimmed screen, feeling suddenly very alone.
===
May I see you?
"Huh?" Chyna turned around. Staring back at her was her own, naked reflection.
May I see you – for what you truly are?
Confusion literally clouded Chyna's field of vision. The only thing she could see was herself, smiling and holding out a hand.
Maybe that's what you should ask him. Or, maybe you should just try to learn on your own.
"Who?"
May I see you?
The other Chyna spun around and began laughing. No lies.
Chyna stood in nothingness, alone and dumbfounded. "Lies?" She looked at her own hand, the same one her reflection had offered. "No one's lied to me..."
The scene around her burst into flames. It seared her skin, and she screamed in agony. Soon enough, the flames were consumed by darkness. Chyna opened her eyes.
===
Screams. Chyna sat up in the bed. Without the flames from her dream, she felt cold.
Screams.
Chyna crawled out of the bed and listened closer. Her mother was screeching horribly. The screams were accompanied by a few loud crashes. She was obviously still in her own home because there was very little to push over. Chyna held her head, still in a dazed state. Then she left the tiny bedroom and ventured into the living room.
The moment she walked out, her mother fell at her feet, her face contorted into a pale visage of horror. Chyna stepped back, clasping a hand to her mouth to stifle a scream. A heavy foot kicked the woman in the side and she was sent rolling out of Ezekiel's way. Chyna looked up. Was it really Ezekiel? He had Ezekiel's clothes, Ezekiel's face – well, sort of. He had become something straight out of some B horror film, an undescribable creature whose obvious intention was tear the throat out of anyone around him. His eyes met Chyna's, and she knew immediately that she was his next target.
Ezekiel grabbed her shoulders while she was stunned with horror. Something much worse than bad breath came out of his mouth which, Chyna noticed as she stared into its abyssmal depths, contained oversized canines. Fangs?
Chyna no longer knew the meaning of the word tired. She gathered all her strength and shoved Ezekiel away from her. He stumbled back a long enough distance for Chyna to run back into the bedroom. She swiftly rummaged through the top drawer of her dresser. Inside she found her father's revolver and some ammo tucked far back behind her undergarments. Chyna loaded the gun fast enough to point and aim as the vampire came rushing into the room. The revolver fired as she pulled the trigger, a loud bang erupting from it, as well as the expected bullet which went rocketing straight into the creature's skull. She fired again, and again, until all six bullets were emptied into the vampire's head. He fell to the ground several feet away from her.
If only Chyna had known just how durable the undead were at that moment. As she moved to investigate it, a clawed hand shot out at her ankle and pulled her to the floor, knocking the breath from her. Ezekiel, or what had been at some point, climbed on top of her. Chyna would have gasped had she been able to. The bullet wounds were gone. His fangs were nearly at her throat again. She reached up toward the dresser and pulled one of the drawers out far enough to knock his head away. Chyna drew her knees to her chest and kicked Ezekiel away. She hurried to her feet, only now regaining her breath.
Ezekiel was already up by the time Chyna had finally refilled her lungs. The two made eye contact; they both moved at the same time, Chyna out of the bedroom and Ezekiel running headlong into the wall. Chyna slammed the door behind her, hoping it would slow him down enough in time for her to think of something. The first place she headed was the kitchen. A set of knives sat conveniently on the counter. It was obvious that strength would not be on her side for much longer. Ignoring those for now, she turned on the stove, watching as blue flames shot up from underneath the burners. She then opened up a drawer in search of something, anything that might give her the advantage of the fire without having to rely on Ezekiel making his own mistake. She looked in the sink. There sat the wooden spoon that she had used for making Ramen earlier. She grabbed it just as Ezekiel came barreling out of the bedroom.
Chyna grabbed the spoon and shoved it into the burner. It instantly caught on fire. Chyna spun around and hurled the makeshift torch at Ezekiel. He screamed as his clothes burst into flame. Chyna watched in horror as he slowly disintegrated, until he was nothing more than a pile of ashes. She hurried to stomp out the remaining embers before any more damage was done.
Gasping for breath, Chyna collapsed to the floor. She buried her face in the old, worn-out carpet. She cried and cried, until the sun finally rose and she drifted off to sleep.
===
Habitual. No. Sixteen years and I've never seen anything like this.
Run-of-the-mill. Maybe in the old Frankenstein movies. Not here.
Commonplace. What's so common about bloodsucking, human leeches?
Normal.
Had it been like this her whole life? Had all the stories about vampires, zombies, the undead, been true the entire time? Were they really normal?
Chyna watched passersby from the apartment building's second story balcony. Every now and then, one of them would cross in front of the building. Some of them even greeted her with a friendly wave.
You can't keep this up forever. Eventually, someone like me will tell the world.
She cheerfully smiled and waved back.
Oh, and remember – it's not good to obsess. Look where it's gotten me. ¬.¬
P.S. I revised the end of this to work better. Just so you know.
For What You Truly Are By Deus Magi
===
Normal; accustomed; commonplace; habitual; typical; regular; run-of-the- mill; standard; traditional...
Chyna spent hours reading the synonyms for the word "normal". Her old computer spat out the search results as if mocking her, suddenly finding speed in her worrisome demeanor. A 48K dial-up connection, barely running on what little memory it had, was mocking her. The cruel irony of it all did not come to her until days after she had left it running in her abandoned apartment, nothing remaining but the foul sense that the Reaper had once visited the place.
The night had been an eventful one.
Summer break had just begun, and Chyna was on her way home from the store after grocery shopping. All around her, high schoolers she knew ran freely, excited that finally they would have no more homework for the next two and a half months. All of them, so jovial about their freedom. Chyna felt as though their happiness was misplaced. An unshakable feeling of dread clouded her thoughts, and she could find no joy behind the release from schoolwork.
An old apartment complex loomed before her. She saw the door to her own tiny "home" clearly from where she stood. Her deceased father's car, an Oldsmobile, sat contentedly in its usual parking stall. Next to it, a familiar vehicle that did not lighten Chyna's mood in the least. Sighing, readjusting her grip on the grocery bags, she began her ascent to the second floor. Chyna was forced to set the bags down in order to open the door. Every time she turned that knob, she was painfully reminded of just how poor she was. The door had no lock.
All the income she managed to snag from her part-time job was spent on computer upkeep. Her mother, old enough to live on welfare but stubborn enough not to admit it, stayed at home most of the time. Her money was spent on cigarettes and coffee and anything else she could afford. She continued to insist that she would purchase a lock for the door eventually, but for the sixteen years that Chyna had lived, the door had never gotten one installed. Regardless, the only thing worth stealing in their apartment was the old computer Chyna had managed to keep since she was a child, but no one would want it anyway.
The door swung open. Chyna grabbed the groceries and stepped inside. "I'm home," she called, only then realizing how tired she was. She had gotten very little sleep in the past few days, the strange feeling of some nearby threat teasing her into the wee hours. When she did manage to fall asleep, her dreams were littered with strange messages that not even Joseph, King of Dreams would be able to decipher.
The apartment was lit by candles. No windows offered light from the waning sunset, and a high electric bill was the last thing they needed. Chyna's mother sat on a loveseat sofa, the only piece of furniture besides a desk and a few chairs. Next to her sat her boyfriend, Ezekiel. The first thing Chyna did when she had been introduced to the man was ponder the name. People rarely had bizarre names nowadays – it was practically asking to be made fun of. But she knew better. The only reason her mother was involved with any man was to try to squeeze some manner of funding out of him. If it brought them any closer to a better home, or even a lock on the door, so be it.
Chyna was greeted by a cheerful wave from her mother and a toothy grin from Ezekiel. Chyna returned the wave, wearily smiling at Ezekiel. She dumped the groceries on the kitchen counter, the only thing separating the living room from the refrigerator and stove. The only other rooms in the apartment were the bathroom and a bedroom just large enough to fit a one-person bed inside. The most they had in the way of a TV was a tiny black-and-white television from before Chyna was born. It got just as many channels as it would have back when it was made, and she often speculated upon selling it while her mother was out.
"Go on, Ezekiel," Chyna's mother urged. "What did you do after that?"
Chyna groaned below her breath. Once again, her mother was doing everything she could to win Ezekiel's affection. Every day was the same – she would sit and listen to him talk about his own eventful life while drinking coffee. Either Chyna only managed to get home right at the boring part, or Ezekiel just was not a very lively person. Tonight was different, though, if not immediately apparent. As Ezekiel chattered on, Chyna sensed that feeling again – something was wrong. Something was...off.
Groceries in the refrigerator, Chyna went to her computer. A sigh of relief shook her body as she collapsed into the chair before it. The computer took nearly five minutes to turn completely on. She connected to the internet, glad to see that a friend of hers was on AIM.
---
Message to Squigigigee – 5/20/19XX – 5:47 PM:
Asia47: Evenin' Squeege.
Squigigigee: How's it hanging?
Asia47: Same old. Finally managed to get off my feet.
Asia47: You?
Squigigigee: Heh. Sounds like you've had a rough day. I don't think I should rub it in.
Asia47: You're probably right. Lol.
Asia47: Anything interesting happen while I was wasting away in school?
Squigigigee: Nothing of particular note, I'm afraid. Ever since the schools got out things have been rather slow.
Asia47: I can understand that. People are probably just grateful to get out. [sigh] If only I could feel that...
Squigigigee: Something bothering you?
---
Chyna thought for a moment. Squeege had gotten her through thick and thin for at least two years now since she'd met him. A friend of hers, Tentra, had introduced them. "I know someone who can help you out," Tentra had told her one day. Chyna had been feeling especially alone that day, in need of some wise words of comfort to pull her through. Squeege seemed just the guy to do it, and they had been friends ever since.
'Should I tell him?' Chyna thought hesitatingly. She shook her head. 'What am I so worried about?'
---
Asia47: Yeah... I'm not sure what it is, but something's making me real uneasy lately. I feel like someone's watching me all the time. It's like... I can't trust anyone now.
Squigigigee: ...
Squigigigee: That is odd.
Asia47: Any advice?
---
Squeege did not reply for a long time. Chyna felt suddenly self-conscious, as if she had just given something away that should never have been revealed.
'Come on, you idiot,' she chided herself. 'It's Squeege!'
---
Squigigigee: Well, the only thing I can think of is that your subconscious is telling you that something bad is on its way. If I were you, I'd watch my back.
Asia47: What? Are you kidding me?
Squigigigee: Hey, you asked.
Asia47: Lol. Whatever. Listen, I have to make dinner. My lazy mom's too absorbed in her boyfriend's lame-ass life to get off the couch.
Squigigigee: No problem. I'll be around.
Asia47: Talk to you later. :)
Squigigigee: See you.
Squigigigee: And remember, be careful. That subconscious warning thing could be more genuine than you think.
Asia47: Sure thing.
---
Chyna closed down the program and put her computer to sleep. She did not plan on making more than instant Ramen for herself. If her good-for-nothing mother wanted something, she would have to pry herself from the death-like grip that Ezekiel had managed to make around her.
The Ramen was never enough to fill her up. But at least if she was never able to eat enough food, Chyna reminded herself, she wouldn't be fat as well as ugly. She sighed again, the third time in an hour. She washed the pot in the sink and went back to her computer.
---
Message to Squigigigee – 5/20/19XX – 6:02 PM:
Asia47: Squeege? You there?
Squigigigee: As always. How was dinner?
Asia47: Less filling than I would have hoped. Have you eaten yet?
Squigigigee: Good question. I think I managed to choke down lunch today.
Asia47: Oh, right. Sorry, I forgot you're not feeling well.
Squigigigee: You know, I never even realized it until the other day. It's been going on for... quite some time.
Asia47: It happens. Just get better, alright? I don't need you dying on me or anything.
Squigigigee: Heh...
---
A dry chuckle shook Chyna's body. Her bones creaked as she adjusted her posture, and her tiredness came flooding back to her. She rubbed her eyes, yawning.
---
Asia47: I think I'll turn in.
Squigigigee: This early?
Asia47: Yeah, sorry. Well, see you around.
Squigigigee: Later.
---
The twelve-year-old monitor blinked off. Chyna stared at the dimmed screen, feeling suddenly very alone.
===
May I see you?
"Huh?" Chyna turned around. Staring back at her was her own, naked reflection.
May I see you – for what you truly are?
Confusion literally clouded Chyna's field of vision. The only thing she could see was herself, smiling and holding out a hand.
Maybe that's what you should ask him. Or, maybe you should just try to learn on your own.
"Who?"
May I see you?
The other Chyna spun around and began laughing. No lies.
Chyna stood in nothingness, alone and dumbfounded. "Lies?" She looked at her own hand, the same one her reflection had offered. "No one's lied to me..."
The scene around her burst into flames. It seared her skin, and she screamed in agony. Soon enough, the flames were consumed by darkness. Chyna opened her eyes.
===
Screams. Chyna sat up in the bed. Without the flames from her dream, she felt cold.
Screams.
Chyna crawled out of the bed and listened closer. Her mother was screeching horribly. The screams were accompanied by a few loud crashes. She was obviously still in her own home because there was very little to push over. Chyna held her head, still in a dazed state. Then she left the tiny bedroom and ventured into the living room.
The moment she walked out, her mother fell at her feet, her face contorted into a pale visage of horror. Chyna stepped back, clasping a hand to her mouth to stifle a scream. A heavy foot kicked the woman in the side and she was sent rolling out of Ezekiel's way. Chyna looked up. Was it really Ezekiel? He had Ezekiel's clothes, Ezekiel's face – well, sort of. He had become something straight out of some B horror film, an undescribable creature whose obvious intention was tear the throat out of anyone around him. His eyes met Chyna's, and she knew immediately that she was his next target.
Ezekiel grabbed her shoulders while she was stunned with horror. Something much worse than bad breath came out of his mouth which, Chyna noticed as she stared into its abyssmal depths, contained oversized canines. Fangs?
Chyna no longer knew the meaning of the word tired. She gathered all her strength and shoved Ezekiel away from her. He stumbled back a long enough distance for Chyna to run back into the bedroom. She swiftly rummaged through the top drawer of her dresser. Inside she found her father's revolver and some ammo tucked far back behind her undergarments. Chyna loaded the gun fast enough to point and aim as the vampire came rushing into the room. The revolver fired as she pulled the trigger, a loud bang erupting from it, as well as the expected bullet which went rocketing straight into the creature's skull. She fired again, and again, until all six bullets were emptied into the vampire's head. He fell to the ground several feet away from her.
If only Chyna had known just how durable the undead were at that moment. As she moved to investigate it, a clawed hand shot out at her ankle and pulled her to the floor, knocking the breath from her. Ezekiel, or what had been at some point, climbed on top of her. Chyna would have gasped had she been able to. The bullet wounds were gone. His fangs were nearly at her throat again. She reached up toward the dresser and pulled one of the drawers out far enough to knock his head away. Chyna drew her knees to her chest and kicked Ezekiel away. She hurried to her feet, only now regaining her breath.
Ezekiel was already up by the time Chyna had finally refilled her lungs. The two made eye contact; they both moved at the same time, Chyna out of the bedroom and Ezekiel running headlong into the wall. Chyna slammed the door behind her, hoping it would slow him down enough in time for her to think of something. The first place she headed was the kitchen. A set of knives sat conveniently on the counter. It was obvious that strength would not be on her side for much longer. Ignoring those for now, she turned on the stove, watching as blue flames shot up from underneath the burners. She then opened up a drawer in search of something, anything that might give her the advantage of the fire without having to rely on Ezekiel making his own mistake. She looked in the sink. There sat the wooden spoon that she had used for making Ramen earlier. She grabbed it just as Ezekiel came barreling out of the bedroom.
Chyna grabbed the spoon and shoved it into the burner. It instantly caught on fire. Chyna spun around and hurled the makeshift torch at Ezekiel. He screamed as his clothes burst into flame. Chyna watched in horror as he slowly disintegrated, until he was nothing more than a pile of ashes. She hurried to stomp out the remaining embers before any more damage was done.
Gasping for breath, Chyna collapsed to the floor. She buried her face in the old, worn-out carpet. She cried and cried, until the sun finally rose and she drifted off to sleep.
===
Habitual. No. Sixteen years and I've never seen anything like this.
Run-of-the-mill. Maybe in the old Frankenstein movies. Not here.
Commonplace. What's so common about bloodsucking, human leeches?
Normal.
Had it been like this her whole life? Had all the stories about vampires, zombies, the undead, been true the entire time? Were they really normal?
Chyna watched passersby from the apartment building's second story balcony. Every now and then, one of them would cross in front of the building. Some of them even greeted her with a friendly wave.
You can't keep this up forever. Eventually, someone like me will tell the world.
She cheerfully smiled and waved back.