Hunter of the Damned

by Jennifer Martucci

  “Who?” Kathy’s brows knit. “What’re you talking about?”

  Kiera doesn’t speak. She shudders and weeps.

  “I should kill one of you right now.” Kiera is in his crosshairs. The thought of gripping her long, slender neck overwhelms him to the point of acting. Within the space of a heartbeat, his hand rockets out and he grabs Kiera’s throat.

  Seeing her daughter being throttled by him, Kathy springs to her feet and lunges, punching and clawing him. But her efforts are in vein. Agares feels nothing. She is an insect and he regards her as such. He swats at her, clipping her head and sending her flying to the side, slamming her skull against the concrete floor.

  Though he doesn’t have any regard for either her well-being or life, he glances at her to assure she isn’t dead. She is bait, after all. When he sees her scuttling about the floor and clutching her head, he realizes she is injured but very much alive. He returns his attention to Kiera. The desire to kill her blazing a fiery trail through him. He knows he likely needs them both to lure Gideon and incite war, but feeling her supple flesh beneath his fingertips is tempting. Ending her life beckons him like a lover. Heeding it, he gradually increases the pressure he’s applying. Her screams turn to mewls, then the mewls turn to silence. Excitement mounts within him. He grips harder still. Her eyes bulge and the color of her skin deeps to an unhealthy shade of red. He wants to kill her more than anything else he’s wanted in some time. He needs to kill her. That need multiplies, burgeoning and pounding through his body like a war drum. Kill her. Kill her. The basest part of him, which is all of him, demands.

  Hands trembling, he swallows hard, battling back against his bloodlust, a task so challenging he finds that his knees weaken briefly. Killing her at this moment would be foolish. He knows as much. He releases his ironclad grip on her and she falls to the floor gasping for breath. Watching her as she is, vulnerable and practically begging for him to choke the life out of her. The absolute need is undeniable and unrelenting. He fights it with every ounce of restraint he possesses, but cannot look upon her, the proverbial lamb awaiting slaughter, any longer. The temptation is simply too great. So he turns from them and marches upstairs, returning to the living room to wait.

  Gideon is coming. He can feel it. Gideon’s last day on earth is fast approaching, and life as it has been known on planet Earth with come to an abrupt end. Eternal darkness will fall, and Agares will reign.

  Chapter 20

  ̴ Daniel ̴

  I reappear on the outskirts of the farmhouse, to where the tree line meets lush grass. But images of grazing animals and long summer days spent frolicking in the rolling hills are squashed in an instant. With my first breath, evil curls into my lungs like ribbons of smoke, scratching with taloned fingers and bleeding me of air. My hand flies to my chest, the foul presence of Servants of the Underworld thick on my tongue. Evil surrounds me. Suffocates me. And I sense him. I sense Agares. He is here. He’s in the farmhouse that sits at the highest point of the property, my mother and sister being held there as his prisoners. The need to get to them, to rescue them from his clutches, screams through me like a battle cry. But hundreds of his soldiers stand between us.

  I scan the field, searching and seeking out shadowy figures, when an unearthly din echoes through the ether. Bloodcurdling howls ring out then shouts and grunts, all beastly sound.

  “They know we’re here,” I turn and say to Lillian, Luke and Scarlett. They are standing closest to me, along with all the others we sifted with.

  “They do,” Lillian agrees, her face impossibly serene.

  “So let’s have at it!” Luke shouts the words, turning and addressing the Hunters who came with us. They respond by erupting with chants

  I hoist my spear high overhead and join in, feeling adrenaline flood my system. The collective sound of our voices rises to a deafening level. We don’t need to be cautious. This is not a sneak attack by any means. We are simply charging. I study the faces of those around me and do not see even the slightest shred of fear. All is see is fierce determination and iron will. Pride fills me and swells my chest. Many will fight and die. Few will live. I lock eyes with Luke and he clips his chin at me. I nod then spin and sprint off into the field. Behind me is the sound of footsteps, sure and true, jogging behind me.

  With each step I advance, the smothering force of darkness grows. I feel as though I’m running against a thick invisible substance. Every fiber of my being resists it, fight is. I trudge forward, hitting the tall grass in time to watch as a sea of bodies moves toward us. They are a tidal wave of the purest evil know to any realm, each with eyes as black as polished onyx that reflect the glow of the moon.

  My heartbeat doubles the rate of my footstep when the first beast is in arm’s length of me. I swing my spear in a wide arc and slice him open at his middle. He bays like a wounded wolf and bucks, but I cannot finish him off. Another approaches from behind and I’m forced to spin and ram the bloodied edge of my staff into it. The Servant of the Underworld I’ve impaled is a monstrous form. It cries out and reveals three rows of small, razor-sharp teeth, as well as a burst of foul air as its final breath. He collapses to the group and disappears in a tornado that stinks of brimstone and death.

  More approach and meet with the same fate. I move unlike ever before, with impossible speed and grace. With each swipe of my weapon and with each life I claim, I feel less and less like Daniel Callahan. I remember a past that belongs to Gideon as clearly as the one that belongs to Daniel. Who I am specifically and where Daniel ends and Gideon begins eludes me completely. I am both.

  The shimmer of a blade reflecting the light of the moon returns my thoughts to the battle at hand. I dodge it after it narrowly misses slicing my throat from ear to ear by dropping to the ground. While on my knees, I drive my staff upward, drilling it into the beast’s gut but do not have a second to spare before I spring to my feet and dodge an onslaught of oncoming weapons, lunging and striking and taking down one after another. As I do so, I spot Ronin, one of Lillian’s trusted Hunters, on the ground in the distance. Four of Agares’s brethren are upon him. One rams his sword into Ronin’s abdomen and he cries.

  “No!” I scream and struggle to get to him, shoving as I thrust and swing my blade with deadly force. When I reach them, the first Servant of the Underworld I see meets my blade when it slashes his throat, lopping his head off his shoulders in a single swipe. I shove the other side of the staff through the creature next to the now-headless beast, jamming it into him with such force it juts out the other side of his body. A glowing orb of energy, white and veined in red like a bloodshot eyeball, careens through the ether and blasts against the fourth beast’s body, incinerating him on contact. I turn and see Lillian behind him, her face unreadable and her posture impeccable. Though the four who struck Ronin down have been destroyed, his life was lost. Profound sadness fills my heart. But I cannot allow that sadness to linger. My mother and my sister are Agares’s prisoners. They aren’t far.

  I scan the field again, assessing the situation, and am surprised to find that more and more Servants of the Underworld fall with each moment that passes. They outnumber us greatly, but appear to be less durable. I start to feel that we have a good chance at winning, that victory is within our reach, when something slams into my back like a battering ram and drives me to the ground. Wind knocked from my lungs, I feel a supernova of pain explode on either side of my spine. Warmth gushes from the site and soaks my shirt and tiny pinpricks of light burst like fireworks in my field of vision. I shake my head and blink feverishly, willing away the pain and jumping to my feet. I immediately turn and face the being responsible for the blood sliding down to the small of my waist and am confronted by a creature that stands nearly a foot shorter than I do. His head boasts two horns, curved and protruding like a ram, a small black nose and eyes the color of volcanic glass. His appearance to his torso is only vaguely human, but once my eyes reach the lower half of his body, I see that the rest is beast. Where legs
should reside is the chest and lower half of an animal that walks on all fours, a horse to be specific. Hooves, four in all, stand upon the trampled grass, the front left one scuffing as if readying to charge. Another being approaches behind him. Cloaked in a hooded robe of black and clutching a scythe in one bony hand, a veritable grim reaper stares at me. Though I do not see his face clearly, only the white of a skull and eyes that are swirling pools of darkness, I feel the press of his gaze. Looking at both of these abominations raises the fine hairs on my body. They also raise to names to the forefront of my brain. Krogone and Cronus. I’ve seen them before. They are two of Agares’s most powerful soldiers, trained to seek me out and kill me. Not wasting a second, I lunge for Krogone, the horned beast closest to me. He startles and rears like a horse, darting and dodging my strike. Cronus vanishes before my eyes and it isn’t until I feel vice-like arms encircle my shoulders that I realize he’s reappeared behind me. I wriggle and fight and watch as Krogone rubs his hoof to the ground. He lowers his head, his nostril flaring in both anger and anticipation. Held as I am in place and with my weapon pinned against my thigh, my brain scrambles for a way out, but isn’t working fast enough. Within seconds, Krogone is rushing me but stops abruptly, howling out and bucking before collapsing into his side. He flails for several moments and I see a crimson streak marking the sable fur of his right flank. Blood gushes from it, along with chunks of gore and matter I assume belong tucked inside. Scarlett steps from the shadows, the blade of her sword stained with blood. She walks past Krogone and toward me, her blade clutched between two hands and looking like the goddess of war incarnate. Krogone struggles to his feet, his face a mask of pure fury. Lips pulled tight over his teeth and brow drawn low, she is in his crosshairs.

  “No!” I yell as soon as he sets off, intent on goring her. She doesn’t sense him yet. I ram my head back, slamming my skull into Cronus’s skull. I feel a fracture in the bone I’ve collided with and the arms around me fall. Freed from the grip, I lunge at Krogone. I dart to the side and am upon him in the space of a breath, gripping his horns and jerking them with all my might to one side. I hear a snap but continue twisting his head like a corkscrew. He falls to the ground and immediately a howling of smoke erupts and claim his corpse. Scarlett whirls around, amber eyes wide and incredulous. She starts to speak but I halt her when I whip around to Cronus. His face is crushed in and appears to have lost the ability to see. Midstride, I lower my arm and scoop a large rock off the ground and slam it into his cracked face. It shatters into innumerable ivory-hued shards before crumbling to dust. His robe drops to the grass and a swirling vortex of fiery smoke appears, the howls of death and destruction carried on the wind along with the stench of fetid flesh and death. Shielding my eyes from it before turning away completely, I survey the battlefield once more. Servants of the Underworld are falling fast. We will win this battle. The Hunters will prevail. But from the battlefield, my eyes settle in the farmhouse, and when they do, I realize the true war has yet to be waged. The battle for my family has yet to be fought. Deep in the cavernous hollows of my being, I know that in all my years as Gideon, this final battle will be the most difficult one yet.

  Chapter 21

  ̴ Daniel ̴

  Drawn by a force more potent than gravity, I move toward the house, sensing Agares, my mother and my sister as readily as I feel my heart beating in my chest. It thunders through me, resonating with the fear that my family will suffer or has suffered the same fate as Sarah.

  With that worry throbbing through my veins, I race headlong for the farmhouse. The world falls silent save for the sound of my feet as they take turns hitting the earth. I breathe in and out steadily, eyes sweeping left to right, my scope razor-sharp in clarity. I feel each Servant of the Underworld moments before they attempt to cross my path, before they attempt to stop me, as if they’re moving in slow motion. They reek of sulfur and brimstone, a stench that precedes them and announces their arrival. Both enable me to take them down with ease, refusing to be slowed. Refusing to break stride. The pull of the inevitable conflict that lies ahead is an unstoppable force that drowns out all else. It is the beat of a war drum deep inside me. It is a calling. It is my destiny.

  Freed of fear for my own wellbeing, I blast past the remaining dwellers of the underworld and make it to the front door of the farmhouse. I step inside and am greeted with a sensation so primal, so visceral it makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up and quiver. The endeavor I’m embarking upon, this battle before me, is as old as time itself. Darkness and light will clash. Good and evil will war. And the fight for the fate of mankind will begin. Inhaling deeply, I know I’m where I should be. I know Agares is near. I know my mother and Kiera are near. I feel their proximity, sensing that my family is below me in the basement. I follow the pull that tugs me toward them, opening a door and descending a staircase two steps at a time. Once I reach the last rung, my heart flares. I see them. Both are chained to pipes that run up the wall to the rear of the room. Two dead bodies reside nearby. But I don’t focus on them. All I see are Kiera and my mother. As is sensing me, my mother looks up. Pellucid, pale blue eyes lock on mine. They flicker with down and a shower of emotions rain on her features. “Danny.” The word leaves my mother in a breathless rush. Her eyes well with tears and her lower lip quivers.

  “Mom,” I say, and for a brief moment, I am just Daniel Callahan, a shy kid from Yonkers with a penchant for playing video games and eating junk food. But in an instant, that moment fades.

  “Daniel, you have to run! Get out of here! There’s someone looking for you. He’s here now!” The words rush from my mother in a frantic cry.

  “Please, Danny! Run!” Kiera’s voice is shrill and panicked. “He’s after you!”

  “And I’m after him,” I say in a clear, firm voice.

  Eyes growing wide, my mother jerks her head back as if she’s been slapped. “What? Why? He’ll kill you! You don’t understand what he is!” She clips her chin to the two slain at her feet, a male and female. “H-he did that.” Her voice trembles.

  “I clutch my spear in front of my body. “No, he won’t. He won’t kill me,” I assure her.

  “Danny, you don’t understand!” my mother screams at me. “He’s evil!”

  I want to tell her she’s right, that what every cell warns her of is accurate. He is evil incarnate. “I know what he is,” I respond calmly. And I’ve been sent here to destroy him.”

  Shaking her head and with her face a mask of anguish, tears stream down my mother’s face. “No, no, no,” she keens and looks at me as though I’ve lost touch with reality, or simply lost my mind altogether.

  Closing my eyes for a split second, I call upon the light that fuels me. I summon it. And when I open my eyes, I feel pure light, pale and brilliant as the midday sun pouring from them. Fear and confusion melts from my mother and sister’s faces. They see it. They see the light. They shouldn’t. Such a display is forbidden, that much I know. But at the moment, I don’t care about rules. All I care about is comforting my family, the ones I love. My chest heaves and feels fuller than it has in a year. But all too soon that fullness fades. Dark energy permeates the ether, stretching and slinking, oily and inky in its foulness and stealth. I sucks the air from my lungs temporarily. I gasp. “Agares.” I say the name and it is bitter on my tongue. The rhythmic clack of approaching footsteps echoes. I do not turn toward the sound. I square my shoulders instead and stand tall.

  “Gideon.” Agares speaks my name with disgust. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  Slowly, I turn and face him. His eyes are infinite pools of black without bottom. My blood chills several degrees. “Agares.” My voice echoes with authority I never possessed as Daniel. It tolls like a bell, rich with truth. Ripe with virtue.

  His gaze is pure hate and his words are venom when he spews, “You will fall, Gideon, and when you do, nothing will stop me. The world will fall with you, and it will fall to me.”

  Tipping my chin in defiance, I
assure him, “I will not fall. I will not fail.”

  Mirthless laughter erupts from him. “Those are confident words coming from you. Stupid, but confident.”

  I glower at him.

  “Oh, what’s the matter? Have I hurt your feelings?”

  I inhale sharply and am about to hurl a string of swearwords at him when he hisses, “You aren’t ready yet.”

  His words stun me temporarily. My head rears.

  He makes a clucking sound with his tongue and shakes his head at me as if I’m a petulant child. “Such a fool!” he says. “You should have waited. Facing off with me in a war for every soul on this planet before you’re ready is pure stupidity. But . . .” He leaves his thought unfinished, gesturing instead to my mother and sister.

  “Daniel, what is he talking about?” my mother cries.

  Turning to her and glaring at her over a brow dipped low in hostility, Agares shouts, “Silence!”

  When he turns back toward me, our gazes clash, mine matching his in pure rage. “Don’t ever speak to my mother that way, you understand me?”

  Agares simply stares at me. Then without a word and within the blink of an eye, he lunges at he, slamming me back into the concrete basement wall. My bladed staff is knocked from my hands and pain radiates from my back to each limb. But I do not let either the pain or the shock of his strike slow me. I launch at him and attack. I grab him by the back of his head pull it back before smashing it into the wall. He howls out and spins, swinging his fists and connecting them with my jaw on several occasions. One is delivered with such force, it sends me staggering backward so that I fall. Fortunately, I land next to my staff. However, when I’m about to pick it up, Agares stomps down hard on my hand then uses his other foot to kick me just beneath my chin. The impact jerks my head backward and it ricochets off the floor with a loud pop. The world around me dims and for a split second goes utterly dark save for pinprick bursts of light that twinkle like Christmas lights.