I was pissed, to say the least.
Damn her! Thanks to her, I lost the title.
Stronger makes better. Strong fighters are winners. The strong don't lose. The strong are the best. The strong *don't*lose.*
Oops, I think I need a new punching bag. I really didn't mean to break it.
Now sweating, I walk the short distance to the shower to clean off before I report. My elder mentor gets angry if I am not clean and calm when I report. Stripping, I step into the clod, harsh spray, taking the time to clear my head of needless thought. Ten minutes later, I am finished, and dress in the black leathers that make up my uniform. Five more minutes find me outside my mentor's room, awaiting the command to enter. I would wait here as long as necessary. I'd rather wait, in fact. I'd rather give her time to forget about my encounter with Thorn. She won't be happy about that.
"You may enter." Her voice muffled by the thick cloth that serves as a door to partition her from the main room. It wasn’t typical, but then again, neither was this elder. I enter without hesitation. This is the way of things. "Report," she commands me. I stand at strict attention.
"Mission: Kill the vampyre Miky. Number 70569 on the List. Mission completed. Stab in back, through the heart. Mission expanded to include other vampyre in the house who attacked. Vampyre: unknown. Stab in the lungs, head cracked." Short, concise, and to the point. In other words: perfect. I hoped.
The elder nods, satisfied so far. "And what about your...playtime...with Thorn?"
I can *feel* the need to lash out and defend my position, but I do my best to suppress the unwelcome urge. Not in front of the elder. A scowl escaped my control and showed itself, despite my efforts.
Damn her!
My elder simply raises an eyebrow. "Neither of us will receive the title," I confess, muttering despite myself. I feel the urge to spill Thorn's guts out on the floor before me.
She sighs. "Oh well, so's life. Perhaps my next student will be better. Some of the children have been showing some promise."
Damn her! Thrice!
"Your next mission will be a team mission. You have a all night to clear your mind and come to terms with this rivalry in your head. There is no rivalry in the team, there is only the Mission. The seven of you will be briefed in the morning. You know the location and the time." I nodded my understanding, not trusting myself enough to speak. A heavy silence fills the room, and I want to question her on the secrets that she is keeping from me, but I would not. I know that she will only tell me if she feels it necessary that I know. "You are dismissed," she finally said. Obviously I was not to know, so I left.
It crosses my mind to wonder why I did not receive the tongue-lashing that I had been expecting, but I was grateful. I had time to clear my mind this way. My elder always hates it when Thorn and I argue or have a fight, but I have no idea why. I wonder if that is what she was considering telling me. I hide out into the forest that hides our slowly diminishing numbers and look up at the still starless sky, curious as to how my life has come to this. I had planned my life the best I could, with no definite plans, but not becoming captain...
I waited in the hall to be called in. Was I nervous? No. Was I going to be yelled at? Oh yeah. I groaned. Me and my pride: we got into more trouble. I sighed, leaning back into the chair I sat in.
I crossed my legs, my dark blue jeans making a “swish” as fabric hit fabric. My head fell back, my eyes closing.
Times passed as I waited silently, just enjoying the peaceful silence. “Thorn.”
I opened my eyes and rose, making my way to dreaded room of which the elder now waited. I would go, I would report my mission, and then I would be scolded and sent off. That is how it always worked. Of course, I was scolded more often than the rest, besides Kit, because I was competitive... and competition amongst each other was dangerous.
Screw dangerous… everything is dangerous to them, I thought.
I drifted in, sitting down. I watched through half closed lashes, waiting and wondering what big lecture I would get today. It was always a bore, and I usually slept through it. I sighed, resting back into the chair.
The female elder sat attentive behind her desk at the computer, her hands resting on the keyboard.
“Begin.”
I nodded, starting with the obvious. “Mission 1312 was a success. Initial target killed, as well as two other less threatening targets. Additional deaths of four extra vampires and one demon. Bodies taken care of. No trace left of mission. Full team returned unharmed. No equipment lost. Perfection.”
“We will decide what is perfection agent Thorn,” the elder stated bluntly.
My face remained neutral, my eyes dare not betray emotion. Emotion was for weaklings. Every hunter knew that. Emotion was what got you killed.
The elder nodded, furiously typing away at her keyboard. “And what of the match when you returned?”
I inwardly winced. Big strike to my pride there. “Unacceptable, and will not happen again.”
“That is correct.” The elder printed the report, standing to file it. “Next mission will be lead by a different operative.” I nodded. “One who will not let difficulties with other clan members get in their way.”
It was really hard to not protest, but I managed to contain myself. “Yes ma’am,” I replied, an unnoticeable amount of rage put behind the words. I clenched my fists.
“Dismissed.”
I stood, not bothering to reply. Instead, I made my way to dinner. Clan was once exactly as it sounds: a clan. That was, in the old days, I mean. Now, we are an agency, each clan on their own to report to a board of elders. Up to date, to say the least. Each clan was contained in a building that was impossible to find unless you knew where it was. We had the high tech equipment, but not in the sense one might think. Instead, it was contained with magic, as well as with science. Our magical tools and wood were still the only was to kill a vampire, besides the obvious beheading and fire. In some ways, that is what kept part of our tradition in tact, and the present time in check. It was also what made us work hard.
I changed my mind, heading towards my room instead. It needed to be cleaned before inspection tomorrow. I might as well have done it now.
As you can see, I am not a normal teenager, but by the way my room normally looked, it would be hard to tell if it were not for the various weapons strewed across the room, and the punching bag that hung from the wall. The white wall, that is.
Each room was more like a cell, keeping its occupant in clear view. The furniture and walls were white, as were the tile floors, with carpet in various spots. There was a desk with drawers. On the desk lay a laptop and a cell phone: both were silver. Next to the desk was a bookcase, where my many martial arts, weapons, vampire, and schoolbooks were stacked in an unorganized fashion. On the other side of the room was my punching bag: hung from the ceiling in the corner, where a gray mat lay under it.
The bed was twin size, and silver with white sheets. Next to it was a nightstand with a shelf under it, where my CD player and CDs were stacked and falling off. Near the bed was a white walk in closet. I kept many of my weapons and equipment in there, as well as my clothes. My clothes were mostly made up of black leather, tank tops, and dark blue jeans. There were a few dresses, one red, one gold, and the rest black. My shoes were laying all over the floor, mindless to the shoe holder.
The room led off to a bathroom, which had one small window in it… just enough room to escape if necessary. The bathroom had a shower, sink, cabinet, and toilet: all white. There were things spewed across the room, both rooms. I had a lot of work to do. Groan. This was going to be a long, long night.
I could have lived if Thorn had been the one to receive the title. I wouldn't be happy, but I could live. To have someone else get it, that hurts, worse than losing to her would. That's another person that's higher than me, stronger than me.
The strong don't lose.
I need to be stronger.
The stars start to show themselves, and I rise to return to the village. I feel eyes on me, but see no one. Even so, I take the long way back, and do not enter the village until I shake the feeling.
Once more I head into the village and make my way towards my room. It is organized, weapons in the closet with clothes. The weapons outnumber the clothes, and the clothes are mostly uniform, with only the occasional dress and few jeans and shirt combinations. There are a few pairs of sweatpants and tank tops, workout clothes that double as sleepwear. My books are all in their place on the shelf, in alphabetical order by title. The bed is made, and the floor clear. I don’t need to worry about an inspection at any time, my room is always ordered.
Except when I am preparing for a mission, but after it is always clean once more.
I change into looser clothing and climb into bed, intent on sleeping through the night in order to be in top shape in the morning.
Thorn will be hard to work with, but I can deal. It’s nothing I can’t handle.
The night is what drives me. It is what separates me from every other hunter: this one simple fact. The night is when it is quiet and peaceful. It is when I feel, rather than see, when things happen. At the same time, it is also when I thrive: I feed off the night.
Most hunters are just so used to seeing vampires and killing them. I am different. I use my resources; I trust me resources more than my eyes. The eye can be deceiving, yet the nose, touch, and ears combined cannot deceive.
I love the winds whispers: carrying every small noise that an attacker makes. The wind carries me its smell, and its aura. My ears are sensitive, even more than a normal hunters because I train them. I could hear a pin drop from a mile away. I have trained my ears as well as my nose, which could distinguish between a vampyre’s scent and any other scent. I could smell the vampyre from yards away.
The earth beneath my feet sends me a warning; the vibrations tell me someone or something is coming. I know, when the birds are not near, or that branches have been snapped, and leaves pressed into the earth, that something had been near bye sometime recently. It is these things, these and the camouflage that the earth provides that has kept me as well trained as I am. I do not need to rely on my eyes to hunt and fight. Relying on one thing will get one killed.
At night, it all changes as well. There is something that happens during the night… something magical. I can sense, even see, when something happens moments before it actually does happen. That gives me time to react. Flashes invade my mind; clips of an attack appear before me, and I react. I get in front of the move and use that to my advantage. It is perhaps my biggest gift as a hunter.
I have toned my muscles, but not enough for it to be obvious. As much training as I do, I make sure to keep a semi-normal appearance. This way my disguise is hidden from demons and vampyres. Among this is changing how I naturally walk. With every predator, there is a certain walk… something that shows you are not normal. Hunters have a tendency to almost glide, more than walk.
I made my way to the club, my pale skin standing out in the blended darkness of my outfit. The breeze felt cold on my face, yet it was comforting. A small smirk reached my lips as I recognized the familiar scent of vampyres. They were at the club… at my club! How dare they! Oh well, I’ll just have to teach them a lesson, not that they’ll be able to use it when I’m done. My smirk widened. I felt the buzz I usually got before a fight: that sweet sensation that makes the rest of the world go away, and makes me feel bliss.
