When Morning Comes Ch. 2
To say that the Huntress was angry would be an understatement. The Huntress was furious. Fuming. She had considered herself to be the best among all of the Entity's killers due to her natural skill and lack of need for supernatural tricks and gimmicks. To her, a true hunt was with a simple weapon. A blade or an axe, not electricity or magic bells or some sort of dream world to pull prey into. The Huntress detested the other killers for that. In her eyes, even the Trapper was not without fault. Using a rusted mechanism to hunt for you while you were away had no honor, no thrill, and no place on the hunt. That's why she was the best, the most skilled, and the most aware.
So then why was this trial going so poorly for her? She had placed two of her prey on a hook during this trial, and the exit gates were already powered. She was better than this. Better at predicting her prey.
There had been no new survivors, the Huntress had axed and hung these same souls countless times. She had seen three of them working on a generator. And had just hung the fourth one a few seconds ago.
This trial, there was the blonde girlish one, who seemed to have experience with being hunted. That one always seemed to fascinate the Shape so much. He always seemed to know when she was in a trial, and always ignored the others until she was sacrificed. He went after her with unusual intensity. The Huntress guessed that he knew her once, in a time before the Entity's influence.
There had also been the old one, an elder that had seen conflict and war, seemingly not just against men, but something else as well. Something more dangerous. The Huntress was thankful for that because he presented a challenge. The Huntress appreciated him for that reason. Experienced prey was much more invigorating to hunt then young stupid ones. He kept her skills sharp.
The third was the darker colored, more thoughtful one. The Huntress sensed that this one had been very intelligent in the human world. Her eyes analyzed the nature that the Entity placed in its trials with recognition. She seemed to always be worried about the others, almost like a doe seemed to fret about her fawn. The Huntress knew that if a survivor was placed on a hook, she would soon be close, looking for a way to get them back. That made her predictable, and the Huntress almost always placed her on a hook at least once when she was in her trials.
The last had been the small and timid one. No. That was not right. He had been timid, when he was first dragged in the Entity's realm, but he soon had stepped up as a sort of leader of the survivors. He was not like the alpha in a pack of wolves that the Huntress had seen so many times before, for he was not the biggest or the strongest. No, this one organized the others, and seemed to encourage and support each of their strengths while minimizing and sometimes even eliminating their weaknesses. He seemed to bind the group together despite the seemingly constant fear that was painted on his face, and people like him were the reason that humanity was the Huntress's favorite prey.
For though humanity exhibited many traits akin to the creatures she had hunted in another life, there was so much more to them. Sometimes they detected their own patterns of predictability, and changed them, which had always intrigued and challenged the Huntress. No two humans were exactly alike either, and the Huntress could find no one tactic that worked on all of them. Before the Entity, that kept her guessing each time they had wandered into her woods, and even now in the Entity's realm she could not begin to properly track her prey until she knew which survivors were placed in her trial. They had always made things more difficult for her, and this allowed her to continue honing her skills to be more efficient. And this was why she was the best of the killers.
And it was also why her knuckles were white against the wood of her axe as she hummed closer to the exit gate. She had just hooked the darker one, and she was determined to make more fall to her axe. Through the trees, she saw that the exit gate she had chosen was untouched. The door was closed, and no light glowed from the switch, which meant no one had even begun the slow process of opening the door.
The Huntress let out an angry growl before turning toward the second gate. Her humming continued. She knew they would all be going to open that one, for as she stalked toward the gate, she heard the survivor she had most recently hooked be freed from the metal contraption.
The Huntress sidestepped another tree, and the gate came into view. It was open, and the old one had just arrived with the girl the Huntress had just hooked. The blonde one and the small leader were there as well. Knowing she wouldn't reach them in time, the Huntress growled in irritation, and she reached to her belt and pulled forth her last hatchet. In a split second, the Huntress made her decision. The two girls were her targets. Both were still injured, so it would only take one hit for them to fall.
In another split second, the Huntress picked the blonde one. She was an easier target, and was slightly distanced from the others. If she fell, the others wouldn't be able to drag her through the gates in time.
With a shout, the Huntress threw her hatchet with deadly intent. The second the hatchet left her fingers, the Huntress knew it would be a direct hit. The hatchet would land square the girl's back, who was turned away from the Huntress at the time. The others would surely run and escape, but the Huntress would capture one prey today. It would be better than nothing.
The Huntress's begrudging satisfaction turned to shock as the hatchet missed its target. She watched in bewilderment as the blonde one screamed, but not from pain. The hatchet had not hit her, for the other injured girl had thrown herself in front of the hatchet just in time. The small leader shouted and moved toward the dying girl to try and drag her toward the exit, but the old soldier grabbed both him and the blonde and bolted out of the gate. That had been a smart move. He couldn't have saved her, no one could have.
The Huntress walked toward the dying girl. It was only the two of them now. All that was left to do was to place her on a hook. But the Huntress stopped just a few feet away and examined the girl. The hatchet protruded from her chest, and blood gurgled out of her mouth as she struggled to breath.
Why? The question burned in the Huntress's mind. Why did she sacrifice herself to save another human? When the Huntress had hunted the soldiers and travelers before the Entity came to her, most had seemed focused on the sole prospect of self-preservation. Only this group of survivors seemed to do demonstrate self-sacrifice. In fact, the only time she had ever seen something like that in the real world had been-
The Huntress froze as something buried deep down inside her struggled forth. It was painful and tormenting and it threatened to tear her to pieces. Her humming stopped and the Huntress dropped her axe to clutch the sides of her head as a shard of her past burst to the surface. The forest faded around her.
…
Anna stared wide-eyes as the beast cried and struggled on the ground nearby, it was a large male, but it's antlers were gone. It looked strange without its antlers, but Anna barely noticed.
"Anna..."
Anna turned to the source of the voice. Her mother lay there in the snow. One of the elk's antlers protruded from her stomach like a small tree growing from the ground. The other lay on the ground next to her mother. It was stained red with blood, her mother's blood, and it dripped softly onto the pure white snow underneath. The axe was stained red too. Her mother had dropped it next to her.
"Come here, Anna," her mother said, weakly but still comfortingly at the same time.
Anna walked over to her mother. She was frightened. Her mother had once told her that blood was bad if it was coming out of you, and that you should try to stop it if it did. You would sleep forever if you did, and her mother said that was bad. So, wasn't this bad too? Her mother was bleeding, there was a lot coming out of her, so why wasn't she scared? What didn't she try to stop it?
"Mama? You are bleeding. Is-isn't that bad?" Anna asked, still unsure.
"It's alright Anna. Come sit with me."
Anna curled up next to her mother and felt her large arms wrap around her. She felt warm, but not as warm as she usually was.
Her mother planted a kiss on her forehead.
"I wish it wouldn't be so loud," Anna said.
The elk continued to make noise behind her, and Anna just wished it would stop.
Anna's mother didn't respond, but she smiled down Anna and began humming. Anna recognized her favorite lullaby as the song began. The one that her mother always sang to her on the nights when the wind battered the walls of their home, or when Anna was sure there was a monster hiding under her bed. It was always the most comforting to her.
Anna began to feel better as the humming soothed her fears. The elk's cries faded into the background as her mother continued.
Anna did not know how long they remained there, but soon the elk grew softer and quieter until it fell completely silent.
Her mother continued to hum, but slowly it too grew softer and softer. Soon it was quiet in the clearing, save for a slight wind whistling through the snow-laden trees.
Anna looked up at her mother's face. Her eyes were closed, and Anna thought that she might be asleep.
"Mama?" Anna asked tentatively. She gently shook her arm.
Her mother remained still.
Anna was about to shake her again when she realized how cold she was. Her mother wasn't giving off heat anymore.
"Mama?" Anna said again. Her voice cracked.
Anna then realized that her mother was indeed asleep. But she was going to stay asleep forever. She couldn't wake up. She never would.
Anna reached over and gave her mother a hug. It was a cold hug, not like the ones they used to share by the warm fire at their home. But Anna hugged her anyway. She knew this would be the last time. It felt numbing. Like the times Anna had gotten so cold that she couldn't feel her fingers anymore. Except this time, it was all over her. It was within her. It consumed her. Anna could not feel anything. Not her fingers. Neither her toes. Neither her heart.
Standing up slowly. Anna saw the axe still laying in the snow nearby. She walked over to it. The axe was not built for her little frame, so Anna used both hands to pull it up out of the snow. Dragging it behind her with the head scraping along the ground. Anna turned to her mother one last time before starting the long trek home.
"I love you Mama. Goodnight."
…
The Huntress fell to her knees and screamed a loud, bloodcurdling scream. She had never screamed so loud in her life, and the noise reverberated through the forest. Her screams quickly turned into gasping sobs as memories of her mother and of her past life poured into her head like water from a tap. She had felt so numb for so long. And now all of the feelings had returned. Years upon years of pain. Pain of losing her mother. Pain of killing all of those travelers…those soldiers…those villagers…those…mothers, and finally, the pain of those girls. The ones she had tried and failed to keep. The ones she tried and failed to love. She had tried so hard, but she hadn't shown them love. She had shown them her numbness. Her defense against feeling compassion, and they had returned the favor. They couldn't love her. They never would've. The Huntress suddenly felt everything, and the weight and remorse of her actions threatened to crush her. The Entity had only made things worse. It had encouraged her, given her strength, given her endless prey, and she had accepted it with open arms. She was the monster that they all thought her to be.
The Huntress continued to sob before realizing that she was still in the trial. The trial did not end until all survivors were sacrificed or killed by the killers' hands. The Huntress opened her eyes and looked at the dying girl in front of her. She was still breathing, but it was shallow, and the blood stained both her and the ground beneath her.
There was so much blood.
The Huntress moved quickly out of instinct, and she carefully scooped up the girl in her arms. She quickly ran as fast as she could while keeping her steady against her chest. She carried the girl like a baby. A precious cargo that the slightest damage could break.
Arriving at the cabin, the Huntress carefully laid the girl down on the floor before hurrying to the stairs that led to the basement. The room the survivors feared most. As the Huntress rounded the corner into the room. She truly saw the room for the first time. She had seen it through the eyes of a killer, yes, but now she saw with the eyes of a human. Four hooks were arranged in the center of the room, and the walls and floor were caked in dried blood. There was so much blood. The Huntress gazed at the room for a moment before coming to and hurrying to the corner of the room. The Entity had placed a chest there. It usually always did. It seemed to find cruel humor in placing rewards in the most dangerous of places. The Huntress threw open the lid of the chest, nearly ripping it in half in her haste, and began to look for the specific thing she needed.
She quickly found what she was seeking. The Entity had placed a medicine kit in the chest, and that was exactly what the Huntress was looking for. Climbing the stairs hurriedly, the Huntress rushed over to the girl still lying on the floor.
In her former life, the Huntress had been taught basic first aid by her mother. As she grew older, she had to learn more by trial-and-error. She wasn't perfect, but she knew enough to save this girl's life. The Huntress opened the medicine kit and began tending to the wounds that she herself had inflicted. The thought made her grimace, but she forced it away to focus.
After the Huntress fixed every wound to the best of her ability, she carefully picked the girl up again and laid her down on a simply constructed bed. Once she was sure the girl was stable, the Huntress sat down at a table not far away. Too many memories crowded her mind, and she needed time to clear her head. She slowly brought her hands to her face and removed her mask and veil. Setting them down on the table beside her, she closed her eyes and remembered everything she had forced away so long ago.
Images of every kill flashed through her mind. Every child she had taken, every scream, every failure to love, they all forced their way up after years and years of dormancy. The Huntress began to softly sob into her hands. She had hurt so much. She had taken so many children from their mothers.
Mothers.
The Huntress suddenly remembered the times her mother was alive. These memories were different. The Huntress began to remember how gentle her mother was, how she had sung for her when she returned home with bleeding cuts or bruised appendages. She remembered birthdays, one day every year that her mother made her sweet bread and gave her a gift. She remembered being taught how to throw her first hatchet, and how excited she had been when she had brought home her first kill.
The Huntress lost track of time as she sifted through memories good and bad. All the while, she silently made a vow: Never again would she hunt for the sport. Never again would she rob another of their children. Now, she hunted to protect. Only to protect. That meant that she was never to play the Entity's games again. No survivor would be sacrificed by her again. From now on, she was still a huntress, but never a monster.