Last night was one of the worst of my career. Why, you ask? Well, the undead had a pretty big part in it. The other reasons? You'll have to hear them to believe.
It started out, much like any other night; a cool breeze rushed through the city streets, as was a normal event for an autumn evening. The wind briefly shook the trees lining the park in which I was enjoying a short stroll, alone. You see, I'm not one for company or friends. Honestly, in my line of work, that's frowned upon. More on that later, though. I was dressed in a cloth hoodie and loose jeans - the standard fare for most people my age. Hands in pockets, I strode silently through the twilight hours, simply enjoying the scenery.
The cool breeze that was making the evening so enjoyable became colder, much like death. That assessment wasn't too far off, to my lack of surprise. Now, I mentioned my line of work earlier. I am a Hunter - one chosen to ward humanity from those who once called themselves human. Most resort to calling the undead 'zombies', but the truth is much, much worse than the simplistic thought of the dead rising from apparently shallow graves. No, the undead that walk through the streets now are merely the acolytes of an occult who underwent... radical procedures that give them incredible strength and endurance. We Hunters know them as wraiths - shadows of death that haunt the night in search of humans to convert to the faith of the occult. That isn't to say that zombies don't exist. They quite do, but in a completely different manner.
Back to the tale, however, the chill that spread about the city marked the arrival of the wraiths searching for victims. Those that weren't among our order had hidden themselves inside dwellings long ago in preparation for the night and its denizens. The wraiths' attacks had been a common occurrence for years - ever since the occult grew bold enough to begin working towards its final goal: the assimilation or death of those not of their number in order to summon their demigod of choice. They were getting close, and everyone knew it.
The Hunters had been organized to protect those that hadn't been able to do it themselves, and had been trained extensively in survival tactics against the occult's soldiers and spooks alike. Our leader had somehow been able to break away from the influence prior to his becoming a wraith himself, and as such passed his knowledge to us. We Hunters were chosen very specifically through a process that none but our leader knows of. Once chosen, we were taken in by the order and given our oaths to take. When we completed our oaths... well, let's just say that we become... different. Horns sprout from our foreheads, and unnatural powers begin welling deep within our souls. That is the point from which we are known as Hunters, equally as feared by the people as the wraiths.
The wraiths descended upon the city within moments of the deathchill's fall, and at that point, I was more than knee deep in undead. More than rightfully should have come. Using my unholy abilities as best I could, I dismembered and destroyed the wraiths as they came to me, as moths fly to the beacon of a flame. Just as I thought I would give out to the sheer number of the swarm, their assault ended as abruptly as it began. That very moment, it became even colder than I ever believed possible. The air became stagnant and quiet. All stood still around me; none of the wraiths dared move an inch. Something even stopped me from fleeing anywhere 'safe'. The reason why became apparent mere moments after the 'freeze'. Stepping out from the shadows beyond the wraiths was a shadow of a man who wore large, flowing crimson robes that came up to a hood that shrouded his face.
"Ah, and so here before me stands the prodigy," the man said in such whispered tones it took the best of my hearing to make out what he said. Even then, I didn't understand what he meant. What prodigy? None of the Hunters were ever introduced to such a ridiculous theme during their initiation or training.
"I've had my eye on you for quite some time now, Hunter. It seems you've been given some... unique... talents. Talents that simply must belong to us."
"I'll never work for you," I spat. Whoever this man was, he was obviously one of the higher-ups in the occult's ranks.
He stepped forward slightly, imposing his shadow of a figure against me. "Whoever implied that we would have you work for us? Your power will suffice."
"What?" the very thought running through my mind was the only thing that slipped through my mouth as I spoke.
"Surely, if we wanted you to either die or become one of us, the wraiths could accomplish that. No, my mission is simply to absorb your power for the Righteous One to finally become one with flesh and scour away this world's petty resistance."
"I won't allow that to happen, you know."
"Ah, your defiance is refreshing, but your fate is inevitable. Your power will belong to us, whether you allow it or not. You see, it is not your choice to make," the silhouette remarked snidely, hints of a chuckle following after. He drifted closer, seemingly floating over the ground.
I had no choice but to fight back against the invisible restraints that held me in place, as the man drew slowly closer.
"It is no use to resist us. All will succumb before the end of everything as you know it."
Drawing on my well of power, I struggled more and more with every 'step' the being took. He obviously wasn't human. No human could exude the power this... thing was. Power that radiated, and deadened the air around him as he strode. With effort and a vast amount of my energy, I finally broke away from the chains holding me back and stood free against the being, who had halted at my display of power.
"Ah, but of course. No mere power could ever hold you in place, could it?" it asked, obviously amused. "After all, you're the prodigy."
"What is all of this prodigy nonsense you're spewing?" I asked, my confusion getting the better of me.
"All will become clear, very soon indeed." He began to move forward again, his pace increased.
I drew on the power of the Hunters to begin attempting to destroy this new threat. Every spell seemed to simply bounce away from the vast power this being possessed.
"It is useless," it remarked, stating the obvious.
It finally reached me, through my resistance and grasped me around my throat. The only thought running through my mind being that that I should have been running the entire time, perhaps seeking out another Hunter to my aid. As it was, I dangled loosely from the creature's grasp as it siphoned my power away from me, strengthening its own as it did so. The entire process lasted a mere minute, and afterward, I felt drained and exhausted. Unnaturally so.
"And so it begins."
The creature's vast army of wraiths surrounded it in a ritual circle as he raised his whisper of a voice into a chant. The ground before him began to glow a blood red as the wraiths' shrill voices joined in. At the crescendo, all of the voices gave way to a deep rumbling that originated from deep beneath the earth. All of the trees in the park began creaking and splintering in half vertically. The sky, previously clear of obstruction, began forming funnels of clouds directly over the glowing rune on the ground.
At first confused, I found I knew exactly what was happening.
The creature was summoning the demigod.
Thus began the worst night of my career.
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Day One: 1342 words, post beginning at 8:02pm, EST
One note about this project: it is the beginning of a series of short stories. So, according to the rules of my competition, the next story will begin where this left off. And, speaking of 'next story', tomorrow's story may come early or late, depending on events occurring in the real life land. I may just bundle it with that of two days from now. Anyway, that's all from me tonight.
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