Ken, the silver-haired Hunter, stood in front of an old, ragged building, its walls covered in rusty metal sheets and faded graffiti. The air reeked of decay and rot. Madame Abigail's corpse was slung over his shoulder in a body bag. With a swift kick, he effortlessly opened the creaky steel door and tossed the corpse inside. The sound of scurrying rodents and the creaking of old wooden beams filled the air as he whistled a tune, his eyes scanning the dimly lit room.
"Take it easy on her, kid," Karl, a quick diener, cautioned, his voice laced with a mix of curiosity and annoyance as he emerged from the shadows. "Corpses contain vital information and power." The flickering fluorescent lights above cast eerie shadows on his face.
"I don't care about that as long as you pay me," Karl scoffed, his eyes narrowing as he rubbed his grimy hands together.
Ken chuckled, the sound echoing off the walls. "What do you do with all the corpses we get for you?" He sauntered over to verify the body, his boots scuffling against the dirty concrete floor.
Karl's expression turned cold, his eyes glinting in the dim light. "What I do with them is none of your concern."
Ken shrugged, his shoulders barely rising off the bag. "That's right. Payment already, dammit."
Karl opened the bag, his eyes scanning the corpse. His veins popped out in rage as he spotted the hole in Madame Abigail's body. "What did this to her?" he bellowed, his finger shaking with anger as he pointed at the hole. "I told you not to damage her, you runt."
Ken sneered, his lip curling upward. "Some Blondie blasted her with a black energy ball before I dealt the final blow. Why the fuck are you pissed?" He kicked the corpse hard, the bag crumpling around it.
Karl's face turned red with rage. "You feasted on someone's leftover?" The air was thick with tension as he glared at Ken.
Ken shrugged again. "Who cares?" He kicked the corpse once more. "See, she's dead! I completed my task, so pay me my God damn money."
Karl tossed a pouch full of coins at Ken, who caught it mid-air. He felt the weight of the pouch and glared at Karl. "This wasn't the amount we agreed on, old man."
Karl cowered behind the corpse, his eyes darting toward the door. "Why should I give you full payment when you didn't fight her? That would be a waste of my money."
Ken's expression darkened, his eyes flashing with anger. He pulled out his silver handgun from its case, locked and loaded it, and held it against his face. The sound of the gun cocking echoed through the room.
"Do not play with me," Ken warned, his voice dripping with menace.
Karl trembled, hiding behind the corpse. Suddenly, Shane emerged from the darkness, his eyes fixed intently on the scene unfolding before him.
"Lower your gun, Ken," Shane ordered, his voice firm but calm.
Ken hesitated, then slowly lowered his gun. Shane's gaze shifted to the corpse, and his expression turned grim.
"He killed her, didn't he?" Shane asked, his voice low and even.
Karl, still cowering behind the corpse, stuttered, "W-well, he—"
"Pay him in full, please," Shane said, his smile sinister as he gazed at Karl.
Karl's scowl deepened, his frown twisting his face into a grotesque mask. With a begrudging motion, he tossed another pouch at Ken. "Now what?"
"Take your dead friend and leave," Shane replied, his voice dripping with disdain as he lit a cigarette. The flame cast eerie shadows on his face.
Ken let out a deep sigh as he stepped aside, watching as Karl dragged the corpse out of the tower. Ken spun his gun on his index finger, the silver metal glinting in the dim light. "You should have let me blow that cunt's head off," he muttered.
Shane's gaze never wavered. "Sorry, but I'm expecting a visitor soon." His voice was low and even, but a hint of anticipation danced in his eyes.
"Someone's coming? Another job offer?" Ken asked, his hand instinctively going to his handgun.
Shane's expression turned enigmatic. "No. We'll have a new member. I'll tell you about her later. Tell me more about this Blondie."
Ken's eyebrow shot up, his eyes narrowing. "Her? You mean we're having a girl as a new member? Are you out of your mind? Hunters have never had a female member before."
Shane's eyes flashed with anger, his jaw clenched. He broke his cigarette in half, the sound echoing through the tense silence. "Do you question my judgment?"
Ken's hand tightened around his handgun, his eyes locked onto Shane's. The air was thick with tension as the two men stood frozen, ready to attack at any moment. The only sound was the creaking of the old wooden beams and the distant hum of the city.
Shane's gaze never wavered, but his voice took on a slightly calmer tone. "You will meet her soon. Now, about this Blondie... what's his name?"
Ken snorted, his expression twisted in disgust. "I think I misplaced the card he wrote it on. I'll go over his place right now and ask him." He sneered, his lip curling upward. "Do I even know where he lives? Like, how the fuck do you expect me to know that, you grumpy old man?"
Shane's eyes narrowed, his expression unyielding. "You didn't notice anything about him?"
Ken shrugged, his shoulders barely rising off the bag. "He's about 5'7" feet tall, red eyes, wields a Scythe... probably a member of those insanely annoying cult groups that are popping up lately. Oh, he uses a weird power."
Shane's eyes squinted, his gaze intense. "What do you mean by weird?"
Ken's grin was laced with excitement. "All his attacks are black, and I think it looked like a shadow. Weird, right?" He took a step closer to Shane, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.
Shane's expression turned thoughtful as he rubbed his chin. "Could it be...?"
Ken's eyes locked onto Shane's, his voice barely above a whisper. "Is Blondie someone important?" He licked his lips, his fingers wriggling with excitement on his handgun.
"No, he's not, you trigger-happy bastard," Shane said, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Anyway, it's not weird. There are people blessed with the gift of controlling shadows. I believe they call themselves Tenebri."
Ken's eyes widened, his grin spreading from ear to ear. "Interesting. I can't believe such amazing people exist," he said, his voice dripping with excitement.
Shane lit another cigarette, the flame casting a golden glow on his face. "They are far from amazing," he said, blowing out smoke. "Back when I was a teen, I took up a job offer to kill a pregnant woman. It should be an easy job, I thought, but she could control shadows."
Ken's eyes sparkled with excitement as he asked, "You've fought one before? I'm so jealous. What was she like? Is she incredibly strong?" His words tumbled out in rapid fire.
Shane held his cigarette between his index and middle fingers, a faraway look in his eyes. "I almost died, bitch!" he laughed, the sound sending a shiver down Ken's spine.
Ken's gaze locked onto Shane's scarred chest. "So she was the one that gave you the scar on your chest?"
Shane nodded, his eyes glinting with a mixture of pain and nostalgia. "Yeah, and the one on my face. So much for my beauty."
Ken's eyes widened as Shane continued, "You've heard about Seth Remmick, right?"
"Of course," Ken replied. "They would tell us spooky stories about him back at camp."
Shane's grin turned sinister. "Seth Remmick is the younger brother of Shayla Remmick. The bitch that almost killed me. If I'm right, Blondie is her son."
Shane blew out smoke, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Guess who the father is."
Ken yawned, his eyes half-closed. "Save me the trouble and just tell me."
"Steve Nazar," Shane replied, his eyes sparkling with excitement.
Ken's eyes snapped open. "Interesting. How do you know all these things?"
Shane's grin turned proud. "I'm not the leader of the Hunters for nothing. Information is power, and I make it my job to know these things."
He looked at Ken, his eyes glinting with excitement. "Why are you grinning, you battle maniac?" Shane asked.
Ken's grin turned wider, his eyes sparkling with excitement "I can't wait to fight Blondie since he came from a family of monsters."
"Since he bested Madame Abigail, that means he's no ordinary kid. I wouldn't underestimate him if I were you." Shane warned as he threw away his cigarette and trampled on it. "It's about time we welcome our new member. She's been waiting for a while now."
Ken raised an eyebrow, curiosity etched on his face. "Who is it?"
Shane smiled, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. "Let's just say she's a familiar face."
Ken's eyes narrowed, his mind racing with possibilities.
As they approached the front door of the tower, a figure came into view. Ken's eyes widened as he took in the sight of the girl standing before him.
Shane smiled graciously. "Ken Heinzeln, meet Selena Remmick."
Ken stared in oblivion…
...…. ✍️
The Sage dragged Liam's unconscious body to Sophia Redmond, the Realm's doctor. He gently laid him on a soft, white bed, the fabric stained with Liam's blood. Sophia's eyes flicked with concern as she took in the sight of Liam's battered body.
She raised her hand, and a dark, shadowy energy enveloped Liam's body. The air seemed to thicken as Sophia's power worked to heal his injuries. The scent of antiseptic and herbs wafted through the air, mingling with the metallic tang of blood.
With a swift, precise motion, Sophia cut open Liam's wrist, letting the poisoned blood flow out. The Sage watched intently, his eyes filled with worry, as the dark liquid spilled onto the floor.
"Is he going to be alright?" the Sage asked, his voice low and urgent. Sophia's face was a mask of concentration, her eyes fixed on Liam's wounds.
"No one has ever died on me, Sage," Sophia replied, her voice firm but laced with a hint of concern. "But this poison… it's unlike anything I've seen before. It's eating away at his insides, corroding his veins."
The Sage's eyes widened, his face pale. "Can you stop it?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Sophia's jaw clenched, her eyes flashing with determination. "I'll do everything I can, but I need time. And even then… there are no guarantees."
The Sage's face fell, his eyes filled with a mix of fear and desperation. Liam's life hung in the balance, and the Sage couldn't shake the feeling that time was running out.