From the dawn of time we came, moving silently down through the centuries. Living many secret lives, struggling to reach the time of the Gathering, when few who remain will battle to the last. No one has ever known we were among you… until now.
— Juan Sanchez-Villalobos Ramirez
On a tranquil starry night, the story begins in a secluded, rundown building, its crumbling walls whispering secrets of the past. Inside, the atmosphere is thick with tension and the scent of dampness.
A scrawny yet handsome man with tousled black hair, Adam Pierce, finds himself in a precarious situation. In his early thirties, he wears a long black coat over a white t-shirt and greyish jeans. His wrists are bound with rough rope, and he is being escorted by two armored men, their futuristic gear glinting ominously in the dim light.
As they enter a chilling room filled with an array of weapons and torture devices, the shadows seem to dance around them. Skeletal remains lurk in the corners, their origins a mystery that adds to the room's sinister aura.
The men unceremoniously toss Adam to the floor, where he lands with a thud near a rotund figure dressed in a tailored black suit. The man, Paul Dorga, has a slick ponytail and wears dark goggles that obscure his eyes. He turns slowly, revealing a face that is both grotesque and oddly smug.
"Now, now, don't be too hard on our guest," Paul says, his voice dripping with mock concern.
Adam, still face down on the cold floor, manages to respond, his words muffled. "I'll live…"
With a grunt, he struggles to rise, using the strength in his legs to push himself up. Finally, he meets Paul's gaze, defiance flickering in his eyes.
"If this is how you treat all your "GUESTS", I'd hate to see how you treat your prisoners," Adam quips, a smirk playing on his lips.
Paul chuckles, a sinister glint in his eye. "You couldn't imagine… Very rarely do we keep prisoners or hostages here. And when we do, they don't last very long."
As he speaks, Paul strolls over to a wall adorned with an array of torture tools. He selects a stun baton, the device crackling ominously as he grips it tightly. He approaches Adam, who remains unfazed, his expression more bored than intimidated.
"Now… tell me why a valuable watcher such as yourself has come all this way to see me," Paul taunts, his voice low and menacing.
Adam scoffs, his confidence unwavering. "You know exactly why I'm here, fatso. You hunters have been making quite a mess disrupting our duties these past two months."
Paul nods, feigning regret. "Ah, yes… To be completely honest, it pains me that it had to be this way."
"It didn't," Adam retorts, shaking his head defiantly.
With a sadistic grin, Paul activates the stun baton, his excitement palpable as he contemplates where to strike first. "Shame you came here alone. I can never settle on torturing just one person and calling it a day."
"Who said I came here alone?" Adam replies, a smirk still on his face.
Paul's expression shifts to confusion as he glances around the room, his men on high alert. "I'm sorry, was… was something supposed to happen?"
Adam rolls his eyes, exasperated. "G-give it a second… Someone's being WAY off cue!"
Suddenly, the weak ceiling above them gives way, and a cascade of debris tumbles down, accompanied by several lifeless bodies. Among them, a young man crashes through, landing in a crouched position. Max MacLeod, with spiky auburn hair and a light brown baggy jacket, brandishes a short Chinese broadsword, striking an epic pose.
"It's one of them!" Paul exclaims, shock evident in his voice.
"No need to show off, MacLeod. You're late," Adam quips, his tone nonchalant.
Max's seriousness falters as he processes Adam's words. "Late?"
"Yes! I had this perfectly planned epic moment for both of us, and you just HAD to drop in twelve bloody seconds later."
"Dude, give me a break! I had to mow through like six of these guys on my way here," Max defends himself.
Having heard enough of their banter, Paul's patience snaps. "KILL IT!"
His armored men spring into action, pulling out metal rods that extend into sharp, high-tech spears. They lunge at Max, who deftly blocks a strike from one guard while keeping his distance.
The first guard keeps Max Busy, delivering a barrage of quick strikes, with Max blocking and evading each of them
With his back exposed, the other guard charges in, aiming to stab Max from behind. In a split second, Max reacts, pulling a concealed Glock 19 from his jacket. He fires three quick shots, hitting the second guard in the thigh, causing him to stumble and fall. Without missing a beat, Max turns his attention back to the first guard, shooting him in the foot before slicing through his Kevlar vest with a swift motion of his sword.
As the guard's helmet clatters to the ground near Paul, the rotund man's grin widens, a mix of admiration and fury in his eyes. "I expected no less from a MacLeod. You lot are everything they say you are—"
But Paul's words are cut short as Adam, having regained his footing, sweeps Paul's legs out from under him. The fat man crashes to the floor, and Adam begins to kick him while he's down, all the while casually conversing with Max.
"Let's get a move on!" Adam urges, a hint of urgency in his voice.
Max chuckles, slicing through Adam's restraints with a quick flick of his sword. He hands Adam his own guns, the weight of the weapons a comforting reminder of their shared history. Just as they prepare to escape, a furious and bloodied Paul rises, his cracked goggles and bloody nose a testament to his anger. He pulls out a communicator, speaking rapidly in Russian to alert his men.
"Come on, let's go!" Max insists, and the two men dash through the dusty halls of the building, adrenaline coursing through their veins.
Max activates his earpiece. "Tay, we're coming in hot! Get ready to pull up!"
"And have those super cushions ready!" he adds with a grin, his humor a stark contrast to the chaos around them.
As they near the end of the hall, they come to an abrupt halt. A massive armored man wielding a spiked mace stands in their way, ready for battle. Max and Adam exchange a quick glance and pull out their guns, unloading a barrage of bullets at the warrior, who stumbles back before crashing through a glass window.
The scene shifts to a sleek blue 2024 Hummer EV, where a cute redhead with a pixie cut and striking cyan eyes, Taylor Pruitt, is jamming to pop music. Her carefree demeanor is shattered when the armored warrior crashes onto the hood of her car, landing with a heavy thud.
"OH SHIT!" she exclaims, her heart racing.
Inside the building, Max and Adam peer out the window, hesitating at the three-story drop. They know they need to escape, but the ground below is swarming with guards.
"Same time?" Max suggests, glancing at Adam.
"Sure…" Adam replies, though uncertainty lingers in his voice.
Before they can leap, Max hesitates, a thought crossing his mind. "Ya' know what, I'll just—I'll just take the stairs."
"The stairs? Really? With a dozen armed hunters?" Adam deadpans, incredulous.
"I'll wing it. Besides, I can give 'em the slip and cut ac—"
"AAAH!"
Without warning, Adam shoves Max out of the window, sending him plummeting toward the car below. Max lands awkwardly, breaking his neck in the process, rendering him unconscious.
"Mr. Pierce!" Taylor shouts, her eyes wide with shock.
Adam follows suit, leaping out of the window and landing inside the car, narrowly avoiding a head-first dive.
"Go!" he urges, adrenaline pumping through him.
Taylor slams her foot on the gas, and the car speeds away from the building just as the large hunter tumbles off the hood, rolling down the street, barely conscious. Gunfire erupts behind them as guards attempt to shoot at the fleeing vehicle, but their shots go wide, the distance too great.
Once they're far from danger, Adam takes a moment to assess his injuries. He feels the familiar sensation of healing coursing through him, mending his broken arm and ribs.
"Seatbelt," Taylor instructs, her voice steady despite the chaos.
Adam quickly buckles himself in, glancing back at Max, who is slowly sitting up, pain etched on his face. With a swift motion, Max snaps his neck back into place, the accelerated healing factor kicking in.
"I'll get you back for this," Max grumbles, shooting Adam a glare.
"Oh, suck it up. You've had far worse," Adam retorts, a smirk tugging at his lips.
"You BROKE my FUCKING NECK!" Max protests, incredulous.
"And Kurt Angle won a gold medal with a broken neck. You didn't see him whining about it," Adam counters, his tone teasing.
"Wait, you watch wrestling?" Max asks, confusion flickering across his face.
"Used to," Adam replies with a chuckle. "It was a guilty pleasure watching sweaty beefed-up men fight for a gold belt."
Taylor interjects, a playful glint in her eye. "Don't forget the sexy women."
Adam grins. "Oh, how could I ever?"
"I wanted to be a diva at one point when I was itty-bitty," Taylor adds, her voice light. "But it led to the most EXTREME 'Hell no' I've ever received from her."
Adam laughs, shaking his head. "Heh, broken dreams…"
As the banter continues, Adam turns back to face Max, nearly forgetting about why they came to the Hunter's stronghold.
"Oh, and did you get it?" Adam asked,his tone shifting to seriousness.
Max reaches into his jacket and pulls out two clear crystals, their surfaces glimmering in the dim light of the car. He hands them over to Adam, who squints at their odd shapes.
"Are they real?" Max asked.
Adam examines the crystals closely, a frown creasing his brow. "Yes, but there's something different about them since I saw them last."
Max leans closer, curiosity piqued. "Different how?"
Adam's expression darkens as he contemplates the implications.
Taylor's eyes widen as she glances in the rearview mirror. A convoy of black SUVs is tailing them, headlights blazing like predatory eyes in the darkness.
"Hold on!" she shouts, slamming on the brakes. The car skids to a halt, and the trio braces themselves as the SUVs screech to a stop behind them.
"SHIT!" Max yells, pulling out his gun. Adam follows suit, adrenaline surging through his veins.
The doors of the SUVs burst open, and armed hunters pour out, weapons drawn. The night air is filled with the sound of gunfire as the hunters open fire on the car.
"Go, go, go!" Adam shouts, and Taylor floors the accelerator, sending the car lurching forward.
Max leans out the window, returning fire with precision, his shots finding their marks. Adam joins him, the two of them working in tandem, covering each other as they fend off their attackers.
"Take a left!" Taylor shouts, her voice steady despite the chaos. "There's an alley up ahead!"
With a sharp turn, she veers into the narrow alley, the car bouncing over potholes and debris. The hunters pursue, but the tight space slows them down.
The doors of the SUVs burst open, and armed hunters pour out, weapons drawn. The night air is filled with the sharp crack of gunfire as the hunters open fire on the car, bullets ricocheting off the metal frame and shattering the windows.
"Go, go, go!" Adam shouts, adrenaline surging through him as he ducks low in the seat. He glances back at the pursuing hunters, his mind racing. He knows their guns won't be enough to shake off this relentless pursuit.
"Hold on!" Taylor yells, her grip tightening on the steering wheel as she swerves to avoid incoming fire.
In a split second, Adam's eyes dart to the glove compartment. He remembers the hand grenade he stashed there earlier, a last resort for situations just like this. Without hesitation, he yanks it open, his heart pounding as he retrieves the grenade.
"Taylor, I have an idea!" he shouts over the chaos.
"What?!" she replies, her voice strained as she maneuvers the car through the narrow streets.
"Cover me!" Adam commands, bracing himself as he leans out the window, grenade in hand. He pulls the pin and tosses it toward the nearest SUV, watching as it arcs through the air.
Time seems to slow as the grenade lands with a thud beneath the vehicle. Adam ducks back inside just as the explosion erupts, a blinding flash followed by a deafening roar. The SUV is engulfed in flames, sending debris flying and forcing the hunters to scatter on the ground making a nasty fall.
Taylor floors the accelerator, and the car lurches forward, speeding away from the chaos. The sound of gunfire fades behind them, replaced by the roar of the engine and the rush of the night air.
As they navigate the twisting alleys, the trio exchanges glances, the weight of their narrow escape settling in.
"Did we lose them?" Taylor asks, her voice a mix of relief and disbelief.
"For now," Adam replies, his heart still racing. "But there's obviously plenty more where they came from."
To Be Continued...