In this day and age there are only two known ways to travel back and forth between dimensions. In actuality, three hundred and twenty ways exist, but only two have been discovered so far. In the world of the Ten Kingdoms one of these ways is to find a magic mirror, turn it on, then go through. The other is simply to die. Once your life ends you slip through the curtain of this world and into another. Since the land of the dead is rarely considered to be another dimension, the fact that it is has become sort of a secret that very few living people know. One hour and thirteen minutes after his death The Huntsman stumbled onto this secret.
There had been a horrible pain, a desperate feeling of shock and disbelief, a sudden flash of light, and then everything had gone black. For a while the blackness remained, and like the fog that covers a field at twilight it shrouded every aspect of existence, concealing all that lay beneath. There were no thoughts, and no feelings, just an empty void that allowed only for the faint sensation of weightlessness. It was like drifting through a deep and dreamless sleep without having any sense of yourself.
After an indiscernible amount of time the blackness began lifting, revealing what it had been hiding. Consciousness began to reawaken. Then, as suddenly as the darkness had come, it vanished and in its place stood a vast forest. (If at this point in the story its vague beginning confuses you, I apologize. Having never died myself I can only speculate as to what The Huntsman went through after his death. So if you'll bare with me while I attempt to tackle one of life's greatest mysteries, I'm sure you'll find it rewarding.)
The land of the dead stretched as far as the eye could see in every direction, and standing in it's midst, looking around himself in utter confusion, was The Huntsman. The Huntsman recognized a forest when he saw one, and he could also recognize when things were amiss. He was definitely in a forest, and he knew that something was most assuredly amiss.
The forest had not been there a minute ago. The woods were dark, and the trees grew close together, making it impossible to see clearly for more than a few feet past the tree line. The Huntsman stood stone still, surveying the scene that had appeared out of nowhere. His keen eyes crept over every inch of what he could see, not letting a single detail go unnoticed. As he looked around, his mind flooded with questions, but his instincts told him to stay calm and observe. When he was sure that there were no threats to himself lurking around, then he could figure out how he had come to be there.
He took his eyes from the forest beside him, and turned his attention to what lay in front of him. He found that he was standing on a narrow dirt path that led through the forest. Dense underbrush grew over the path in some places, and it wound forward as far as he could see before it took a sharp bend to the right and disappeared into the trees. While he stared intently at the patch of woods the path had vanished into, something above the trees caught his attention.
The tower of a castle poked its way up above the treetops, and stood a gray, stone silhouette against the sky that coincidentally, was a similar bleak shade of gray. What is this place? The Huntsman asked himself, as he looked warily up at the castle tower. He hastily brought his gaze downward, and combed his eyes once again over the forest on either side of him. He still could not perceive any danger, visible or other wise. But an unexplainable feeling of dread had begun to rise in him when he saw the castle tower. His instincts told him that something was horribly wrong...like something very important was out of place. The Huntsman couldn't put his finger on exactly what was so strange about his surroundings, but his instincts never lied. How did I get here?
Pushing back the confusion that had begun to cloud his thoughts, he began listening intently to the forest, waiting to detect any sounds that could be of significance. There was nothing. Everything was absolutely still, there were no birds calling to one another in the trees, not a single small animal upset the underbrush, and not even the faintest breeze rustled a single leaf on the trees that stood looming, like tall, dark sentinels guarding the forest. If anything lived amongst the trees and plants it was betraying no sign of life. The Huntsman had lived in a forest his entire life, and never once could he remember a time when the forest had been so quiet that it was virtually impossible to detect a single sound. It was an unnatural calm, like the stillness of a grave...Or the presence of death.
A chill crept up the Huntsman's spine. If there had been any thing living in that forest, he would have been able to hear it. Instinctively he reached for his crossbow, something was very wrong with this situation and he needed to be ready for anything. His crossbow was usually hanging at his side by a strap that went over his shoulder. He never left home without it, but today something had changed. His crossbow was not there. "What the fuck?" He exclaimed out loud, alarmed that his crossbow wasn't where it had always been. Where's it gone? He hastily checked the ground around him, then for good measure he double-checked the inside of his coat. It had vanished! The Huntsman's confusion quickly gave way to anger. He needed his crossbow back.
He cursed and began to pace back and forth. Calm down and think. He told himself. He paused, and looked back over his shoulder to the castle sticking out of the trees. He needed to rationalize all of this. When he figured out the circumstances of his arrival there, then he could set his sites on getting back his crossbow. He concentrated on any possibilities that could have caused this. The possibility that he could be dead never crossed his mind; instead another idea popped up.
The forest had appeared out of thin air. Now, the Huntsman knew that entire forests didn't just appear out of nowhere, unless of course things were helped along by magic or some other force. That's it, magic. He assumed, trying to logically explain his situation to himself. Some soon-to-be-dead person used magic to put me here, and then they used a memory charm on me so I wouldn't remember who did it. That seemed reasonable...Sort of. It certainly didn't give the Huntsman much reassurance. So who's to blame for my being here. That was a good question, but more importantly, why did they do it?
He didn't need to ponder that for very long, because he easily answered his own question. Don't be stupid, you know why. Somebody must be trying to stop you from helping The Queen take over the Fourth Kingdom. You've been sent here simply so you can't protect her of course. Think about it. That made perfect since, and it also made the Huntsman angrier. Someone was playing games with him. When he found that person, the Huntsman thought furiously, he would make them suffer until their last breath.
Although the Huntsman could still not detect any immediate dangers in the area he drew one of his hunting knives. Reaching into his coat to find the knife at his side the Huntsman found himself half expecting the knife not to be there, but to be mysteriously gone like his crossbow. He was relieved when his hand closed around the knife's handle. Happy to find that he still had a weapon on him, he pulled the knife out of his belt where he had it hooked. The Huntsman held the knife up in front of him, and flipped it into the air, skillfully catching it by the blade. Anybody wanna come out and play?
The Huntsman's number one priority quickly switched from assessing the danger in his situation, to finding answers. He was discovering nothing by just standing around, staring suspiciously at trees. He needed to get moving. Who knew what danger The Queen could be in? Perhaps if he hurried everything would be all right. Maybe the Queen was just fine right now, and his absence would go unnoticed. Don't get your hopes up. In fact I'd start fearing the worst if I were you. A cold little voice inside his head whispered. You still haven't had the sense to figure out where you are.
The sky above him had begun to change from an overcast gray to a dull shade of purple. The Huntsman couldn't tell exactly how much daylight he had left, but it would definitely be best to get moving now. He cast a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure nothing had crept up behind him. The forest was as still as ever, and the Huntsman lowered his knife warily. Get moving. He reminded himself. Turning his attention forward, he started down the path that lay ahead of him.
As the Huntsman walked along at a slow pace, keeping his eyes fixed on the woods around him he began to wish desperately that he had his crossbow with him. Just because there was no danger at hand didn't mean that he wouldn't encounter any when he reached the castle in the distance. He wished even more that he could remember how he'd gotten there. He began to search his memory, trying to discover any clues that would explain his situation. The Huntsman was genuinely disturbed by his lack of memory; he couldn't stand not having his thoughts in check.
Recalling the last memories he possessed, he continued following the path. He had been in Wendell's castle, and the Queen had been pulling off her plans to poison all of the guests at the coronation. Everything had been going according to plan for the most part. The girl and her father had gotten into the castle somehow, and they were trying to stop The Queen from achieving her goal to put the imposter prince on the throne. It had come as quite a shock when the girl had claimed to be the Queen's daughter. I mean damn, her daughter? The Queen had never mentioned having a daughter before.
The Huntsman recalled that the girl's dopey father had called the Queen 'Christine'. The man had apparently been her husband at one time, and that revelation had thrown him even more. The only name he had ever called the Queen by was "My Lady", he hadn't even thought before about what her real name was...and her having a husband as stupid as that guy? The whole thing was unbelievable.
Still having no clue as to what to think about all of that, the Huntsman came to the very last memory he had before his thoughts dropped off into a black hole. The girl had somehow escaped the cell he'd thrown her and her father into at the Queen's bidding. She had made her way up to a small balcony that overlooked the room that the coronation was taking place in. The Huntsman had been waiting there, leaning against the wall opposite the balcony, standing guard and anticipating everything that could possibly go wrong. The girl had rushed past him, not noticing his presence. She had looked down at the people gathered in the room below; ready to warn them of the danger they were facing. That's when he had come up behind her and grabbed her, covering her mouth with one hand, and restraining with his other arm. "You only get to watch." He had told her...and that was it. Try as he might he could not remember anything after that.
The Huntsman looked up at the castle ahead of him. He had a feeling that although his day had been strange so far, it was going to get a whole lot stranger. He was right. When the Huntsman reached the end of the path approximately five minutes later, he found another surprise waiting for him. The path ended, and so it seemed the forest did to.
Sticking straight up out of the ground were two huge brick walls that stood adjacent to one another. The dirt path turned into to a stone walkway that ran right through the middle of them, creating a border. Two small, stone raven statues sat atop the end of either wall, glowering downward at the ground below. A wooden sign that read "Keep Going" was hung around the neck of the raven statue sitting on the left wall.
Although the Huntsman was glad to see a sign of life, he hung back suspiciously, staying close to the tree line. The existence of the stone walls marked a sign of civilization. This meant that people were nearby. The Huntsman let the thought of interacting with other people swirl around his thoughts.
As eager as the Huntsman was to discover where it was he had ended up, he harbored mixed feelings about speaking to anyone. The Huntsman was not a people person in the least. He preferred to keep his contact with others to an absolute minimum, and he only spoke to other members of the human race when it was necessary. When you live inside a tree in the middle of a magic forest, and hang up no trespassing signs all over the place your people skills tend to get a little rusty. Aside from all that there remained one big pressing reason to stay away from people.
The Huntsman was not unheard of throughout the Nine Kingdoms. He was well known, and feared. He lived in, and pretty much owned the Disenchanted Forest. For the past ten years he had been building a dangerous reputation for himself. The first thing that contributed to his reputation was the fact that he served the Queen. The Queen was more feared than he was. The second outstanding issue was the fact that the Huntsman was a notorious murderer.
He was the Queens Huntsman, and he did her so-called "hunting." The Huntsman specialized in hunting people, and he was really more of a hit man than a Huntsman. If the Queen wanted someone killed she only had to summon him to do the job for her. He was damn good at what he did, nobody (unless of course they were Virginia, Wolf, Tony, and Prince Wendell) ever escaped The Huntsman. He was extremely proud of his reputation.
This goes without mentioning that he slaughtered anyone, and everyone that strayed off the paths into his forest and chose to ignore the no trespassing signs that he had spent so much time putting up. The Huntsman had accumulated quite an impressive body count. That was the reason why he couldn't just saunter up to any random person on the street and start rambling on about how he had no idea where he was, or how he'd gotten there.
He did have one thing that worked to his advantage, and that was the fact that not many people knew what he actually looked like. That was one good thing about being anti-social, most people who actually saw him and knew who he was didn't live to tell the tale. It was lucky for him that the description of a big guy, with long brownish-gray hair, and scary eyes that a frightened witness or two gave from time to time wasn't very detailed.
Well...He thought. If anyone does happen to recognize me, I'll just cut their throats before they have a chance to say anything. The Huntsman hoped it wouldn't have to come to that, he didn't want to make a scene or attract unwanted attention. At the moment there was no other option but to keep going down the path. So, not wanting to waist more time than he already had, The Huntsman walked slowly towards the stone walls.
As he approached, the two small raven statues atop the walls seemed to be glaring hatefully at him, their unseeing stone eyes eternally narrowed. They were unsettling, but the Huntsman didn't pay too much attention to them, instead he looked curiously at the sign. It seemed odd that somebody wrote on it "Keep Going." Keep going where? He supposed he would have to find that out for himself. Continuing onward he stepped onto the stone path in-between the brick walls. The walls cast the path entirely into shadow, and it was much darker there then it was outside of the walls.
The walls didn't follow a straight path, for as the Huntsman walked along the walls curved this way and that, and the path zigzagged along with it. Along the way he encountered another sign that hung from a metal peg, jutting out of the wall. It read "You're Almost There." Now the Huntsman was really curious to know what lay at the end of the enclosed path. He picked up his pace a bit, and within seconds he was standing once again out in the open.
It was if he'd stepped into a whole new reality. The world was no longer deathly silent as it had been back in the forest, but filled with voices and activity. A small, fully populated town was spread out behind two large metal lampposts, which lay directly in front of where the walls ended. In-between the two lampposts a third and final sign was hung, it read "The Village at the End of the World: Congratulations, you've kicked the bucket, now take a number." Below the sign, on one of the lampposts hung a stack of white cards, each with a number written on them.
The Huntsman stopped short, and looked around wide- eyed. Why hadn't he been able to hear that there was a town close by? Had he lost his wits along with a chunk of his memory? He looked at the people in the village ahead of him, like everything else he'd seen since he arrived he felt like there was something off about them. The whole place looked strange as a matter of fact, there were several small houses that looked to be in a state of extreme disrepair. There were trees, along with a hedge here and there that matched the run down state of the houses. The trees were leafless, and twisted at odd angles, they looked like they'd been dead for some time. If the Huntsman had known what The Twilight Zone was he would have surely thought that he had stepped into it.
He raised an eyebrow, and looked at the sign chained to the lampposts. The Village at the End of the World? He had never heard of it before...and what was the "kicked the bucket" remark about? He looked down at the lamppost where a stack of small white cards was hanging. He pulled one off and peered at it, looking dangerously confused. Written in black technical type, was the number "600978434331 to the 5th power." He contemplated tossing the card on the ground and forgetting about it, but instead he slipped it into his coat pocket. He wasn't sure why, but the little white card seemed significant.
In the street that ran through the village ahead of him, one person turned their head in the Huntsman's direction and glanced at him. He needed to blend in as soon as possible; he would have felt more comfortable if he had had his hat. Being inconspicuous was much easier when one wore a long overcoat and a hat. Oh well.
He slipped past the lampposts that marked the village entrance, and walked towards the row of houses to his right. He kept his head slightly down, and glanced suspiciously at the people around him. Nobody seemed to be taking much notice of him, everyone around him looked to be pretty much preoccupied with their own affairs. Something was definitely strange about the people, but the Huntsman didn't want to stare at anyone and get a stare back. Instead he looked up at the houses.
They were poorly built and lined up in rows that kept going as he walked further down the street. It looked like a condemned housing project. He saw a face in one of the windows, that disappeared as soon as he took notice of it. The houses began spacing out, and soon the Huntsman arrived at a house-sized building that had a sign hanging out front that read "Waiting Room." Somebody had spray painted on the buildings shattered window "New arrivals check in here."
The Huntsman stopped in front of the building, and looked in through the shattered window. He could see chairs lined up against a wall, and woman sitting in one of the chairs, he looked closer at the woman and realized that she appeared to be bleeding. He squinted to get a closer look, and confirmed it. The women's wrists were gushing blood. He blinked and stepped away from the window. Was this a doctor's office of some sort?
The door to the building was hanging from its rusted hinges. Maybe he could get some answers if he asked around in there. He took his eyes off the window and headed for the door. He was about to reach out and pull the door open when a man with a knife stuck in his stomach rushed through the door at an alarmingly fast speed, and nearly knocked the Huntsman over. The Huntsman jumped backwards just in time, avoiding a collision. The man with a knife in his stomach tumbled out onto the street, and ran away like a bat out of hell.
Thinking twice about going through the door, the Huntsman stared down the street after the guy who was fleeing the building. That man had a knife sticking out of his gut, he shouldn't have been able to stand. It was definitely peculiar, but the Huntsman decided to enter the building anyway. Reaching for the door cautiously, he pushed it aside and slipped into the building. The building was lit by a single light bulb hanging from the ceiling. Having never seen electrical fixture before the Huntsman would have found the light bulb interesting.... That is if he hadn't been so preoccupied by the man behind the desk.
Usually one doesn't get on very well without a head, but the man standing behind the desk seemed to be doing just fine. He wore a neon yellow tee shirt with blue jeans, and had a matching yellow baseball cap sitting atop his severed head. His head was tucked neatly under one arm, and it smiled pleasantly at the new arrival that had just stepped in. "Hey there pal." The headless man said. "That's some long hair you got. Say, are you a hippie?"
The Huntsman stared in total disbelief at what he saw; desperately trying to rationalize how a severed head could be speaking to him. The man behind the desk set his head down on the desk, facing the Huntsman. The Huntsman began backing away slowly, understanding now why the man with the knife in his stomach had left in such a hurry. The head rolled its eyes and said. "Relax pal, I'm not gonna to bite you. The names Phil. I'm the secretary here."
Headless Phil didn't receive a response, only a shocked stare. The head began looking annoyed. "Listen freaky hippie dude, just give me your name and the number you picked up at the gate."
The Huntsman made no move to give the man the number card in his pocket, nor did he tell Headless Phil his name. "Excuse me." He said instead. "It looks like I've finally gone completely insane. I'm not going to be able to have this conversation with you right now. Come talk to me when my sanity has returned and your head is back in its proper place."
They were both distracted for a moment by the women sitting on the other side of the room. She yelped slightly, and held up her wrists, as if she had just realized that she was bleeding. "As you can see I have other people to get to. So if you please, hand over your number!" "I don't think so." The Huntsman said no longer bothering to conceal the knife he held. "Oh come on!" Phil said angrily staring disapprovingly at the knife. "What the hell are you going to do? Cut my throat? You've got a lot to learn about being dead Mr. Hippie." "Do I look dead to you, you headless moron?!" The Huntsman snarled, waving his knife at Headless Phil.
Sighing, and picking up his head off the desk Phil said sarcastically. "Ok you old scary hippie, I suppose that thing sticking out of your back is just an extreme body piercing or something." "What!?" Demanded the Huntsman, glaring at Phil.
Phil's disembodied head looked carefully at the Huntsman then began looking a little shocked, as if an idea had just struck him. "Hey, you're not The Huntsman are you?" "What's it to you?" The Huntsman asked still holding his knife in front of him. "Ok then, Ill take that as a yes." Phil replied. "The boss wanted to talk to you. Man either you are really, really lucky or you're in some serious goddamn trouble. You might as well have a seat and wait till The Gate Keeper comes to get you." "What! Listen, "The Huntsman lowered his knife and approached Headless Phil. "Were am I? Who are you? What do you mean, there's a thing sticking out of my back? Who do you work for? Who is this "Gate Keeper" supposed to be? And where's my hat? Tell me dammit!"
If Headless Phil could have shaken his head he would have. "Alright hippie Huntsman dude, take a seat while I try and explain this." But Phil didn't get a chance, because at that moment there was a knock at the back door of the building. "Yo!" Headless Phil shouted, and at that, the door was pushed open and in stepped a huge stone gargoyle, with wings and the body of a panther. It looked briskly around the room then set it eyes on the Huntsman. The Huntsman was so shocked he nearly dropped his knife. The gargoyle gave the Huntsman a strange look, and then said in a gravely voice. "Death is ready to see you now."