[Next Day]
The dark room was silent except for Erin's muffled sobs. Her hands trembled as Aamon loomed over her, his expression blank and unreadable. Anundr stood a few steps back, arms crossed, his stoic gaze fixed on the scene. A single dim lightbulb swung gently overhead, casting flickering shadows on the walls.
"Please, don't do this," Erin begged, her voice raw with desperation. "I need to find her… she's the only family I have left."
Aamon sighed, his fingers brushing the edge of her temple. He tilted his head slightly, his demeanor cold but curious. "Who's your cousin?"
"Lily," Erin stammered, her tear-streaked face turning up to meet his impassive gaze. "She went missing… years ago. At a hotel."
The room seemed to darken as Aamon's expression shifted. His normally bland face took on a grim, almost haunted look. His voice dropped to a low, serious tone. "Lily? If she disappeared years ago… Erin, you need to understand something."
Erin's breath caught in her throat as she clutched at his coat. "What?"
Aamon hesitated, his hand falling to his side. His voice was almost a whisper, the words heavy. "She's probably dead. Worse than dead. If the place took her… there's a chance she's nothing more than a stack of meat now."
Erin's face twisted in horror. Her knees gave out, and she slumped to the floor. "No… no, that's not true. It can't be." Her voice cracked, shaking with disbelief. "She always talked about the waterfall. We said we'd go there one day…"
Anundr, who had remained silent until now, straightened slightly, his eyes narrowing. "Waterfall?" His voice was calm but carried an edge of alertness.
Erin nodded, wiping her tears as she looked up at them. "Yes. It's a tourist spot. Just outside the woods. We've been there before…"
Aamon's expression shifted to one of concern. "There's no waterfall in this town," he said firmly. "Not in the news, not in the records. Nothing."
Erin blinked, confused. "But I've been there," she insisted. "It's past the woods… I swear."
Aamon and Anundr exchanged a glance, their expressions grim and knowing. Something was deeply wrong.
"We're going there," Aamon stated flatly.
Erin's eyes widened, and she scrambled to her feet. "I'm coming with you. Please, I need to—"
Aamon's hand was already moving, his fingers glowing faintly with an unnatural light. "No."
Erin's protests cut off as her body went limp, her eyes closing as Aamon erased her memory. He carefully lifted her, carrying her out of the dark room and back to her apartment.
"Why clear her memory?" Anundr asked as they left the room.
"She'll only slow us down," Aamon replied simply, his voice cold again. "And if this is what I think it is, she's better off forgetting it all."
Later that night, Aamon and Anundr stood at the edge of the woods, the faint sound of rushing water echoing in the distance. As they walked, Aamon pulled out a small communicator and called Seth.
"Seth, we've got something… unusual," Aamon began, his voice low.
"You're not kidding," Seth replied, his tone hurried. "I've been digging up info since the ship incident. You destroyed Ulkharga."
Aamon frowned. "What the hell is an Ulkharga?"
"An eldritch being," Seth explained. "Worshiped by sailors for centuries. Why it appeared in Riflow is anyone's guess, but it looked like it was trying to gain followers there."
"Great," Aamon muttered. "Anything else?"
"Plenty," Seth said grimly. "Nyarlathotep and Cthulhu are at it again. Their hunters are fighting each other, and it seems like Nyarlathotep's trying to recruit allies to take down Cthulhu. Your orders are to stay neutral."
"Neutral?" Aamon scoffed. "When the world's literally tearing itself apart?"
"Don't argue," Seth snapped. "That's direct from The King in Yellow. And another thing—Anundr informed me you used half your power against Ulkharga."
Aamon sighed, already knowing where this was going.
"Don't use your full power," Seth continued sharply. "Not without explicit orders. If you do… well, you know what happens."
Aamon gritted his teeth but didn't respond. He ended the call and looked at Anundr, who was already scanning the woods ahead with his usual calm intensity.
"So?" Anundr asked.
"We keep going," Aamon said simply, stepping forward. "But keep your guard up. This place… it's not going to play fair."
Anundr nodded once, his hand hovering near his weapon as they moved deeper into the woods. The sound of rushing water grew louder, but with it came an unnatural hum, like the forest itself was alive and watching.
The woods grew darker as the night descended, the faint chirping of crickets mixing with the rustle of leaves in the cold wind. Aamon and Anundr pressed forward, their boots crunching softly against the damp forest floor. Finally, the sound of rushing water reached their ears, growing louder with each step. They pushed through the thick trees until they emerged into a clearing.
Before them, the waterfall cascaded down, the moonlight hitting the water and creating an otherworldly shimmer. But it wasn't just the waterfall that caught their attention.
A woman stood in the middle of the waterfall, bathed in the moon's glow. She sang softly, her voice hauntingly beautiful, the melody echoing through the clearing like a ghostly lullaby.
Aamon and Anundr exchanged a look, their expressions tense but composed. A silent nod passed between them.
"I'll go under," Aamon muttered. Without another word, he dropped to the ground, his body dissolving into the surface as if it were made of water. The ripples faded, leaving no trace of his presence.
Anundr, unshaken as ever, stepped forward toward the woman. His hands remained loose at his sides, though his eyes stayed sharp, taking in every detail of the surreal scene.
"Hey," Anundr called out, his tone calm but authoritative, like a cop addressing a stranger. "What are you doing out here?"
The woman stopped singing and turned to face him, her movements graceful and unnervingly slow. She smiled at him, her pale face almost glowing in the moonlight.
"Why don't you come closer?" she said, her voice soft and inviting, carrying a strange echo.
Anundr tilted his head slightly, pretending to take her words at face value. His demeanor remained steady, his stoic mask unbroken. "Sure," he said, stepping cautiously closer. "Beautiful place you've got here. But it's not exactly safe. You shouldn't be out here alone at night."
The woman's smile widened as she watched him approach. "Oh, it's so beautiful, isn't it?" she said, her eyes drifting to the waterfall. "Especially at night. Everything here feels… magical."
Anundr stopped a few feet away, his posture relaxed but his guard up. Something about her tone, her movements, her entire presence, set him on edge. "It's something, all right," he said evenly. "But magical or not, it's not a good idea to hang around. This place isn't safe—wildlife, dangerous people. You never know who might try to hurt you."
The woman giggled softly, a sound that sent a chill down his spine. "I'm not worried about bad people," she said, her voice laced with an unsettling confidence. "They don't scare me."
Anundr kept his expression neutral, though his mind raced. He glanced briefly at the water, where he knew Aamon was likely observing from below. "Still," he said, his tone steady. "Why don't we head back to town? I'll make sure you get there safe."
The woman's eyes snapped back to his, her smile never wavering. "Oh, but I love it here," she said. "I could stay forever."
Anundr took another careful step forward, his hand inching closer to the knife strapped to his belt. "What's your name?" he asked, keeping his tone casual.
"Linda," she replied, her voice soft and dreamlike. "This place… it's my favorite. I've been coming here for so long. It feels like home."
"Linda," Anundr repeated, testing the name on his tongue. "Well, Linda, it's late, and I think it's time to go. This isn't the kind of place you want to be after dark."
Her smile grew wider, her teeth gleaming unnaturally in the moonlight. "Why would I ever leave?" she whispered, taking a step toward him.
Anundr's muscles tensed, his casual demeanor remaining intact even as every instinct screamed at him to prepare for what was coming. He glanced at the water once more, waiting for Aamon to make his move.
"Linda," he said calmly, his voice low but firm. "You need to leave. This place isn't what you think it is."
The sharp noise echoed from the far end of the woods, sending a ripple through the air. Anundr's gaze shifted briefly, instinctively scanning for threats, while Linda's serene expression twisted into something darker.
"They're coming," Linda said, her voice suddenly colder, laced with an edge of malice.
Anundr tilted his head slightly, his tone calm and measured. "Who's coming?"
Linda's lips curved into a faint smile. "Fools," she replied cryptically, her eyes glowing faintly in the dim moonlight.
The ground trembled beneath their feet, and from the shadows of the forest emerged a swarm of grotesque creatures. They resembled giant insects, each with the unsettling head of a deer and the delicate, fluttering body of a moth. Their snail-like eyes glowed with an unnatural light, bobbing and twisting as they moved.
The swarm closed in, surrounding the clearing with an unsettling hum that grew louder by the second. Anundr didn't flinch. His hand hovered over his handgun, his body perfectly still, waiting for the right moment to react.
Linda raised her hand, her expression annoyed. With a sharp snap of her fingers, the air grew heavy, and a sudden wave of force rippled outward from her. One by one, the insect-like creatures collapsed, their bodies crumpling to the ground lifelessly. The clearing fell silent, except for the sound of rushing water.
But Linda's smirk quickly faded as her eyes darted to Anundr, who stood completely unharmed, still closer to her than anyone else. The corner of her mouth twitched, and a low growl escaped her lips.
"You're a hunter," she hissed, her voice dripping with disdain.
Anundr's lips tugged into the faintest of smiles, barely perceptible. "That's right," he said, his voice steady. Without hesitation, he drew his handgun, the polished metal catching the moonlight. His aim was unwavering as he locked eyes with Linda.
"Now," he said firmly, "who—no, what—are you, really?"
Linda opened her mouth to respond, but before she could speak, a new sound tore through the clearing—a deafening, eerie bell, its toll loud enough to rattle the trees and send a chill down Anundr's spine.
Linda's expression twisted into frustration, her form beginning to fade like mist in the wind. "Fate always interferes," she muttered under her breath before disappearing entirely, her voice lingering for just a moment longer. "We'll meet again, hunter."
As Linda vanished, the waterfall behind her shimmered and dissolved, leaving nothing but an empty rocky cliff and a dry riverbed. It was as if the entire scene had never existed.
Aamon emerged from the shadows of the ground, his form solidifying as he stepped beside Anundr. His expression was as blank as always, but there was a hint of curiosity in his tone. "Well, that was… weird."
Anundr holstered his handgun, his face unreadable as he surveyed the now-empty clearing. "And more problems ahead, I'd bet," he muttered.
Aamon adjusted his coat, glancing at the dark woods around them. "You just keep pulling all the fun ones, don't you?"
Anundr didn't reply, his eyes fixed on the horizon where the eerie bell's toll continued to echo faintly. Whatever had just happened, it wasn't over. Not even close.
[Next Morning]
Aamon leaned casually against the peeling brick wall of a dimly lit alley, holding the phone to his ear. His face was as indifferent as ever, but his tone carried the faintest trace of boredom. "Seth, we're reporting the waterfall and... whatever Linda was."
On the other end of the line, Seth's voice was calm but stern. "There's no record of any Outer Gods or Elder Gods named Linda. No myth, no folklore. And as for the waterfall…" He paused briefly, a shuffle of papers audible in the background. "It doesn't exist, not in any maps or documented history. It's as if it was conjured from nowhere."
Before Seth could continue, both Aamon and Anundr stiffened simultaneously. The faint sound of footsteps echoed behind them, deliberate and calculated, growing louder with each step.
Aamon ended the call, sliding the phone into his coat pocket as his gaze flicked toward the alley's darkened entrance. "We're being followed," he muttered, his tone flat yet purposeful.
Anundr nodded silently, his posture straightening but still maintaining a sense of calm. Together, they turned the corner into the shadowy depths of the alley, their footsteps echoing against the cracked pavement.
Two figures emerged from the darkness, their movements unnaturally fluid. Their appearance was distinct—hunters, but their insignias weren't from The King in Yellow's order.
Aamon narrowed his eyes, studying them. "You're not one of ours," he said plainly, his voice laced with subtle suspicion.
One of the hunters stepped forward, their tone smooth and persuasive. "No, we're not. We're from Nyarlathotep's division. We've come with an offer."
Aamon raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued but his demeanor unchanged. "An offer?"
The hunter's gaze fixed on Aamon, ignoring Anundr entirely. "Nyarlathotep has taken an interest in you. He wants you to join us."
Anundr, who had remained silent until now, shifted his stance slightly, his hand hovering near his handgun. "Why him and not me?" he asked coolly, his voice calm but edged with suspicion.
The hunter smiled faintly. "Because Aamon is the only one capable of killing—"
Before they could finish, Anundr's demeanor shifted completely. His expression hardened as he swiftly raised his handgun, the barrel aimed directly at the speaker's head. His voice was cold and commanding. "Don't finish that sentence. It's not wise."
The sudden escalation drew a sharp glare from Aamon. "What can I kill?" he asked bluntly, his tone devoid of fear but dripping with defiance.
"Drop it, Aamon," Anundr barked, his voice sharper than usual.
The tension between them was palpable. Aamon's normally stoic face twisted into a faint scowl, a rare flicker of irritation breaking through his calm facade. "Don't tell me what to do, Anundr," he snapped, stepping closer to the hunter. "I don't like being kept in the dark. If there's something I can kill, I want to know."
Anundr didn't lower his weapon, his gaze never leaving the hunters. "This isn't about what you want, Aamon. Some things are better left buried."
Aamon's scowl deepened, his voice rising slightly. "I don't care what you think is better. I make my own decisions. If you're hiding something from me, I'm going to find out."
The lead hunter smirked, sensing the growing rift between the two. "It seems there's already discord between you. Perfect."
Anundr's finger tightened on the trigger, his voice like ice. "One more word from you, and I'll silence you permanently."
Aamon's anger flared, his calm demeanor cracking. "Anundr, stand down. Now."
The standoff stretched for a long, tense moment, the air between them heavy with unspoken words. Finally, Anundr lowered his weapon, though his gaze remained locked on the hunters. "This isn't over, Aamon. But don't say I didn't warn you."
The hunters took a step back, their smirks lingering. "We'll be in touch, Aamon. When you're ready to see the truth."
They vanished into the shadows, leaving Aamon and Anundr standing in the dim alley, the silence between them heavy and strained.
The tension between Aamon and Anundr lingered in the air as they stood alone in the dim alley. Aamon turned to Anundr, his bland expression masking the frustration building underneath. "What the hell were they talking about, Anundr?" he asked flatly, though his tone carried an edge.
Anundr didn't flinch. His stoic demeanor remained intact as he leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed. "You heard them. They said it to you. Maybe you should figure it out for yourself," he replied, his voice calm but distant.
Aamon's eyes narrowed. "Don't give me that cryptic nonsense. I'm not some fool to be left in the dark. I get that you love the whole 'strong and silent' act, but this isn't about you deciding what's best for me."
Anundr sighed, his tone sharp yet composed. "It's not about deciding what's best for you. It's about understanding that sometimes it's better not to know too much. You dig too deep, and you might not like what you find."
Aamon's patience snapped. He took a step closer, his voice louder now, filled with uncharacteristic anger. "There's a difference between being ignorant and being wise, Anundr. Don't confuse the two. I didn't sign up for this to be some pawn everyone keeps secrets from."
Anundr met his gaze, unmoved by the outburst. "If that's how you see it, fine. But don't act surprised when knowing too much puts a target on your back."
Before Aamon could respond, his phone buzzed, cutting through the tense silence. He pulled it from his pocket and answered, his tone sharp. "What?"
Seth's voice came through the line, calm but with an authoritative edge. "Aamon, the orders have changed. You're to drop the case on Riflow. Anundr will be finishing it."
Aamon's free hand clenched into a fist, his frustration barely contained. "Why?" he asked, his voice dangerously low.
"That's classified," Seth replied curtly. "Your role in this ends here. Focus on your next assignment. That's an order."
Before Aamon could argue, the call ended. He stood there, staring at the phone, his jaw tight.
"Great," he muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Now even Seth's keeping me in the dark. Guess it's a trend."
Anundr remained silent, watching Aamon carefully.
Aamon stuffed the phone back into his pocket and exhaled sharply, his expression returning to its usual blankness, though his eyes betrayed a simmering anger. "Fine," he said, his tone more subdued but laced with bitterness. "I'll play along. Maybe if I keep pretending I don't know anything, I'll get the answers everyone seems so desperate to hide."
He started walking down the alley, his movements sharp and purposeful. "You finish the case, Anundr. I'll be watching from the sidelines. Let's see how long they think they can keep me in the dark."
Anundr didn't respond immediately, simply watching Aamon's retreating figure. Then, with a quiet sigh, he adjusted his coat and followed, his calm exterior hiding his own unease.
[Saturday. 09:00]
The early morning sunlight gleamed off the metallic green finish of the Plymouth Barracuda as it roared to life. Aamon sat behind the wheel, his usual bland expression firmly in place, his cigarette dangling lazily between his lips. He had left without a word to Anundr, but not before leaving a note with his usual lack of tact.
The note, taped haphazardly to the door of Anundr apartmen, read: "Gone. Don't follow. Handle your own problems for once, also i take the car because Fuck You thats why, you dumb brute. have fun walking around the town barefoot i take your boots and throw it to garbage and i stole your wallet too, i also cancel your apartmen rent time better find a box to sleeping on the night, bicth."
Anundr, upon finding the note, merely chuckled, shaking his head. "Typical," he muttered, folding the note and slipping it into his coat pocket. There was no anger, only mild amusement. He knew Aamon too well to be offended.
Meanwhile, Aamon drove into a small, rundown market on the outskirts of the town. He parked his car, flicking the cigarette butt onto the cracked asphalt as he stepped out. His movements were lazy but deliberate, as if nothing in the world could rush him.
Inside, he grabbed a pack of cigarettes, a couple of canned drinks, and some food for the road. The cashier gave him a wary glance, likely unsettled by Aamon's blank yet somehow intimidating demeanor. Aamon paid without a word, stuffing the items into a plastic bag before heading back to his car.
What Aamon didn't notice, however, was the young girl slipping into the back seat of his car as he exited the store.
A few miles outside the town, Aamon adjusted the rearview mirror while taking a long drag from his newly lit cigarette. As he glanced into the mirror, his heart nearly stopped.
There, in the back seat, was a girl staring back at him.
"WHAT THE HELL?!" Aamon screamed, his voice hitting an uncharacteristically high pitch. He slammed on the brakes, sending the car skidding to a halt on the gravel road.
The girl smirked, her expression equal parts amused and unimpressed. "Wow," she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Screaming like a girl. Really, Aamon? Didn't take you for the type."
Aamon spun around, furious. "Who the hell are you, and why are you in my car?!" He glared at her, his usual composure completely shattered.
The girl raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? You don't remember me?"
Aamon blinked, his anger momentarily replaced with confusion. "Uh... Nikki, right?" he guessed, his tone uncertain.
She rolled her eyes, exasperated. "Yes, Nikki. Took you long enough."
Aamon's frustration boiled over again. "Nikki, huh? Thanks for reminding me. Now, care to explain why you're in my car without my permission? You know, that's illegal. I could take you to the police for this!"
Nikki crossed her arms, unfazed by his outburst. "Relax. I needed a ride, and you looked like the least annoying option."
Aamon's jaw clenched, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. "Least annoying? Lady, you've got some nerve. Do I look like a damn taxi to you?"
Nikki shrugged. "Better than walking. Besides, you're going somewhere interesting, right? I figured I'd tag along."
Aamon glared at her, his irritation palpable. "You're lucky I don't just toss you out right here."
Nikki smirked again, leaning back in her seat. "You won't. You're too curious about why I'm here. Go on, admit it."
Aamon grumbled under his breath, his annoyance battling with the small spark of curiosity Nikki had ignited. Without another word, he restarted the car, muttering to himself. "Unbelievable."
Nikki smiled smugly as the car sped off down the empty road. Aamon kept his eyes on the road, one hand lazily resting on the steering wheel while the other held a cigarette. The silence between him and Nikki was tense, the hum of the car engine the only sound for a moment.
Finally, Aamon exhaled a puff of smoke and broke the quiet. "Alright, here's the deal. I'm dropping you off somewhere—maybe a bus stop if I feel generous." His tone was matter-of-fact, as if the decision was already made. "You can't tag along. End of discussion."
Nikki leaned forward from the backseat, her arms crossed and her voice sharp with sarcasm. "Oh really? And why's that? Too scared I'll cramp your style or something?"
Aamon sighed, clearly irritated but still maintaining his usual blunt tone. "One, you weren't invited. Two, you got into my car without permission—kinda illegal, by the way. Three, you're going to cause problems with my work. Four, you'll make even more problems in the future—I can already feel it. Five, company rules: no outsiders. And six—" he glanced at her in the rearview mirror, his tone dripping with annoyance, "—the last thing I want is a stranger following me around wherever I go. Got it?"
Nikki's expression darkened as she leaned back, her lips pressing into a thin line. She let out a scoff, her tone shifting to something more cutting. "Oh, I see. So, I'm just some helpless dead weight, huh? A 'problem' you can't wait to get rid of? That's rich coming from someone who looks like they couldn't handle a real conversation, let alone real problems."
Aamon stayed silent, keeping his focus on the road, but his grip on the wheel tightened slightly.
Nikki continued, her voice laced with bitterness. "For the record, I didn't ask for your pity or your judgment. You think I'm some kind of liability? I've been handling my own problems just fine without your help, thanks. I don't need some guy with a cigarette and a superiority complex telling me I'm a problem."
Aamon's gaze flicked to her in the mirror, his face as blank as ever, but the faintest hint of a smirk tugged at his lips. He didn't respond, letting her vent as he drove.
Nikki, not one to back down, crossed her arms and glared out the window. "You know, maybe if you stopped acting like the world revolves around your job, you'd realize not everyone's trying to ruin your precious rules. Some of us just want to do the right thing. Crazy, right?"
Aamon sighed again, the sound carrying more weight this time. "You done?" he asked simply, flicking ash from his cigarette out the window.
Nikki leaned forward, her tone turning mockingly sweet. "Oh, I don't know. Am I? Or should I keep going about how ridiculous this whole 'I work alone' shtick of yours is?"
Aamon finally glanced at her, his face still expressionless. "You've got a lot to say for someone who snuck into my car like a thief," he muttered, returning his eyes to the road.
Nikki smirked, undeterred. "And you've got a lot to say for someone who's apparently allergic to common courtesy."
The car fell into silence again, tension thick in the air. Aamon sighed under his breath, muttering something unintelligible. Whatever it was, it earned a side-eyed glare from Nikki.
For now, they continued down the empty road, neither of them willing to be the first to back down from the unspoken battle of wills.
The car moved steadily along the desolate road, the silence thick with unresolved tension. Aamon tapped his fingers lazily against the steering wheel before breaking the quiet.
"Do you remember?" he asked, his tone flat but with a slight edge of curiosity.
Nikki, still visibly annoyed, crossed her arms. "Remember what?" she snapped.
"The hotel incident," Aamon replied, keeping his eyes on the road.
Nikki's expression hardened as the memories rushed back. "Oh, you mean that? The cultists, the gate made of flesh, those disgusting parasites... And let's not forget me slapping you in the face for dragging me into that mess." Her voice dripped with sarcasm and bitterness.
Aamon muttered under his breath, "Alright, guess I'll erase your memory once we hit the bus stop."
Nikki immediately perked up, her eyes narrowing. "Don't even try it," she said, her tone sharp. "I might talk a lot, but I'm not deaf. I know you've got some kind of weird ability to mess with people's heads, and I'll be damned if I let you pull that on me."
Aamon sighed heavily, his patience wearing thin. "Why are you so stubborn about this? Why do you even want to tag along so badly?"
Nikki's tone softened slightly, though her determination remained firm. "Because I need to know." She stared out the window, her voice steady. "Riflow is my home. Or at least, it was before all this insanity started. Parasites, cults... Everything just went crazy out of nowhere, and it all seems to trace back to you showing up. I need to figure out how to stop this. If I can figure it out, I can report it to the Governor. Hell, I might even get a medal for it."
Aamon suddenly let out a loud, unexpected laugh, startling Nikki. She blinked at him, confused and slightly unnerved. "What's so funny?"
Aamon struggled to compose himself, wiping a tear from his eye. "The Governor? You think the Governor can do anything about this? That's adorable." He chuckled again, shaking his head.
Nikki frowned. "What's that supposed to mean? Are you saying they're useless?"
Aamon's tone shifted, becoming more serious. "Completely useless. You think the Governor or anyone in their office can fight eldritch beings? They can't even scratch them." He glanced at her briefly before continuing. "These things don't exist on the same plane as us. They're in different universes, realms, timelines—hell, they're everywhere and nowhere all at once. You can't kill them with bullets or bombs. Some lower-level ones, sure. But the higher ranks? Forget it."
Nikki stared at him, her disbelief evident. "Then how the hell do you stop them?"
Aamon smirked, as if he'd been waiting for her to ask. "You don't. Not directly, anyway. The only way to harm them is with a blessing."
"A blessing?" Nikki repeated, confused.
Aamon nodded. "Yeah. A blessing from another eldritch being. It's the only thing that can touch them. They're basically invulnerable to anything else because they exist outside our rules—physics, logic, all of it. You want to kill one of them? You have to make a contract with another one. That's how it works."
Nikki's shock was evident as she processed his words. "Wait... So, do you worship these things?"
Aamon scoffed, his tone dismissive. "Worship? No. We don't worship them. We work for them. Hunters are just their personal bounty hunters or mercenaries. That's it."
The weight of his explanation hung in the air, leaving Nikki stunned and silent for the first time. The car continued down the road, the eerie vastness of the empty landscape mirroring the unsettling truth she'd just learned.
The tension in the car had settled into a more manageable quiet, but the air still buzzed with unspoken words. Aamon, ever the stoic driver, broke the silence with a blunt question.
"Who are you really, Nikki? I don't mean just your name. Where are you from? Your origin." His voice was calm but carried a weight of curiosity.
Nikki leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms as she looked out the window. "Who am I?" she repeated, her tone tinged with sarcasm. "You make it sound like I'm some ancient relic."
Aamon shot her a sideways glance but said nothing, waiting for her to continue.
She sighed, giving in. "Fine. My name's Nicole Reyland. But I go by Nikki because, well, Nicole sounds like something a rich girl would be called, and that's not me. My family was... normal, I guess. We lived in Riflow for as long as I can remember. Dad was a mechanic, Mom ran a bookstore. Nothing fancy, but it was home." She paused, her voice growing a little softer. "Then everything went to hell. The parasites, the cults, all of it. I had to learn fast, figure things out before they swallowed me too."
She turned to Aamon, her gaze sharp and defiant. "I'm not some helpless girl waiting to be rescued. I've fought my way this far, and I'm not stopping until I understand what's going on in my town."
Aamon nodded slightly, as if acknowledging her resolve. "Fair enough," he said simply but inside his head " I'm not some helpless girl waiting to be rescued. Say the girl i just rescue."
Nikki tilted her head, eyeing him curiously. "What about you, then? Who are you, Aamon?"
For the first time, Aamon hesitated. His grip on the steering wheel tightened as he stared straight ahead. "I don't know much," he admitted, his voice unusually subdued. "I don't have a past. I woke up in an old hospital bed one day, and next thing I knew, I was signed up to be a Hunter."
Nikki raised an eyebrow. "A Hunter? What does that even mean?"
Aamon continued, his tone flat but carrying an undercurrent of something darker. "The moon turned red, the Old One growled, and the Hunt began. That's all we know. That's all we need to know. We're Hunters—no past, no future, just the Hunt. When the Hunt ends, we either go back to a life we don't remember or build a new one. But the Hunt never really ends."
He let out a bitter chuckle. "It's been years. Or at least it feels like it. I don't even know who I am anymore. It's all starting to blur together. The only thing that stays the same is the Hunt."
Nikki stared at him, her usual sarcasm replaced with something closer to genuine concern. "That... sounds awful," she said softly.
Aamon glanced at her briefly before turning back to the road. "You know what? It doesn't matter," he said, dismissing the subject. "What's important is the Hunt. My name is Aamon Septozanne."
Nikki frowned, the name clearly unfamiliar to her. "Septozanne? That's... different. Where's it from?"
Aamon's expression didn't change. "Long forgotten," he replied cryptically.
The weight of his words hung in the air, leaving Nikki both intrigued and unsettled. For once, she had no sarcastic comeback, only a growing sense that there was far more to this Hunt—and to Aamon—than she could have ever imagined.