Stalker becomes Hunted

No one goes near her. Not unless they want their arms chopped off (and I assure you it would not be pleasant...). Xyliar only has one family member... her brother. But they lead less than normal lives. Others live in fear of the demonic creatures that haunt the darkness in the night, but then you have the hunters. They turn the stalker into their prey.
She finds it oddly difficult to accept other people, but who needs other people? Who needs anyone? All she needs is the katana at her hip and the murderous hatred of those who prey on the weak and vulnerable.


6. No mercy

The light was bright in his eyes, blindingly so. And the constant sound of screaming cut into his ears like knives.

How many people were there, there? About twenty, all children that appeared to be under fifteen. Zenith closed his eyes to fend off the brightness and covered his ears. Where was Xyliar? She was usually there to save him, to look after him. He’d never regretted anything more than taking that job in Birmingham…

Now he was alone and afraid for his troubles… He didn’t even know where he might be. He could be in Australia for all he knew, alone with the other children.


A black door in the corner of the room opened. It was a man wearing all black and a mask over his face and a hat over his hair. Zenith could tell nothing about the man, only that he was tall and had a deep, threatening voice. It was definitely the same man who’d come in earlier to take all his weapons away. The seven daggers tucked around the boy’s body and the bow that had been slipped into the arrow quiver had all been removed.

            The man walked over to him and quickly unlocked the chains that held the boys wrists to the wall behind him and pulled him to his feet. Without a word Zenith was dragged towards the door and through it into a huge hall like room. There were children littering the floor, each of them being dragged along by people similar to the man dragging him. A small girl wailed loudly over the hubbub. The woman pulling the girl along shouted at her and struck a gloved hand across her face. The wails stopped abruptly.

            Zenith couldn’t allow this to go on. He had to find a way out and help the public like he’d vowed to do those years ago when he’d joined Praelia (the organisation). He thought of what his sister would do in his situation… was she looking for him… would she be there soon… He honestly wouldn’t care if she came through the door and threatened him with that katana of hers. He just wished he had his own weapons. With a dagger in his hand he could take on every single one of those people there.




Xyliar stared out of her window down the steep hill that she’d made her way up two days ago. She was wasting time. Her hand smashed down onto the window sill and cracked the small pot that Zenith had made for her when he was four.

“Caecelius! Open the door! We’re wasting time! He could be dead by now, and it’ll be your fault! Don’t make me jump out of this window!” She shouted through the locked door, smashing her fist against it and kicking the bottom roughly. 

“Xylie?” The boss’ voice came from behind the door. “Can I come in?”

Xyliar stepped away from the door as it opened; she knew trying to dart through it was stupid. The boss wasn’t the boss for nothing. His white haired head popped around it and smiled.

“How are you, sweetie?” Varian asked her.

“Sweetie? What do you want?” The coldness that she saved especially for him leaked from her tone. “Do you have any leads?”

“No… I just wanted to see if you were okay…”

“If I am okay?” She hissed. Was he stupid? Did he want to be cut into tiny pieces? Xyliar pulled her katana out of its sheath and pointed it at his throat again.

“Xyliiiiiiiiiie!!! Stooooop threeeeeaatennniiiinnnng meeeeeeeeee!!!” He moaned in that annoying voice that drove the girl insane.

“Oh my god, shut up! Don’t make me push this into your throat!” She snapped, letting the blade caress his neck. A droplet of blood oozed from the nick that it left there.

“Awww! Don’t beee liiike thaaaaattt!!!” Varian pushed the sword away with a swipe of his thin fingered hand, he sliced his palm open, but didn’t seem to notice. “Xylie, you have to listen to me sometimes! I was going to say you can leave your room and go around the rest of Praelia but now I think you still need some reflection time.” Varian got up, whipping his hand on a tissue from his pocket and leaving a red smear across it. He strode from the room, slamming the door behind him. In her frustration Xyliar threw one of the daggers on her bedside table at the closed door.

 She was afraid that she’d have to go to desperate measures when there was a strange scuffling sound from behind the door.

“Caecelius?” She called through the door with curiosity, standing up and making towards the door, she was lucky to be cautious as the door suddenly blasted open. A girl, her short blond hair whipping past her face, darted into the room.

“Rescue commences!” She exclaimed, brandishing a short, pathetic plain sword, nowhere near as beautiful and detailed as Xyliar’s katana, which was decorated with tiny swirls up the blade and dainty silver twisting up the black hilt, though the weapon itself was far from dainty. Damn… did her ‘rescuer’ have to be such an irritating person?


Lavinia brandished her pathetic excuse of a sword and knocked over Xyliar’s glass lamp, smashing it over the floor. The hunter glared at the apologising girl with obvious hatred and whipped over to the katana by her bed. She picked it up and buckled the belt of the sheath around her slim waist, scooping up all the other weapons she owned she fastened them around her body, up her legs, around her stomach, up her arms, even a few daggers strapped into her thick hair. She slid her long coat around her and slipped more weapons into the many pockets inside and out. She slung a bow and a quiver of arrows around herself and looked again at Lavinia.

            “What did you do to Caecelius?”

            “I knocked him out!” She replied with an excitement that shouldn’t have been there.

            “Okay… you stay here.”

            “What… why?”

            “I like Caecelius… and not you…” With that Xyliar pushed past her and stalked off down the many stairs. The pattering of footsteps behind her made her freeze. “Go away.” She said in the voice that was normally reserved for Varian.


            “Fine then.” Drawing her sword the girl whipped it through the air. It collided with the crown of Lavinia’s head. Blood gushed out onto the white stairs. She froze for a moment before falling backwards down. The thumps lasted for ages, but Xyliar wasn’t around to know that at she’s dived out of the window beside her.  

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