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.


8. Pain breaks the brave

The knife slashed across his back again and again, desperately trying to drag a sound from the boy. He hadn’t made such as a whimper of a noise since they’d started an hour ago. He wanted to cry out, to scream for help. But the knowledge that no one was coming silenced him.

            Zenith lay on his side on the ground, his back covered in blood. The man who’d held him in place before drew back the knife again and whipped it across his spine. Even though Zenith was an orphan it had still happened, he was going to die. There was no getting away from it, just because he’d been told about the goings on in the warehouse. Him and his big mouth.


The moon shone through a small window in the very top of the high ceilinged room casting ominous shadows over everything.

            The man grasped the boy’s limp arm and swivelled him around with horrible force, breaking it and forcing the white bone through the skin. The pain was like nothing anyone could ever imagine. The blood spurted from the hole and splattered the floor. But he wasn’t done with that arm; the man grasped it again and pushed the bone back under the skin. He couldn’t contain the scream that burst from his lips.

            “Ha! I broke you!” The man exclaimed, and trod down on Zenith’s leg with his booted foot. It didn’t break as easily as his arm, and took an excruciating amount of time. After the first scream had escaped the one that followed could not be stopped. The large room echoed with his shrieks of agony and the sound of laughter as the man savoured the boy’s pain.


He grabbed a hunk of Zenith’s hair and pulled him upwards to face his masked head. He took his knife in his hand again and dragged it across the child’s face, across his swollen eyelid (from being punched there a few times) and down his cheek until it reached his shoulder blade. Zenith whimpered pathetically and swiped at the abusive hand with his weak one. His movement jolted his broken arm painfully, forcing him to hang limply from his jet black hair. His bone had been pushed out of the skin again, ripping through it like scissors through paper.




The sound of a gun being fired smashed through the air and the man dropped the boy, who fell heavily onto the floor, straight onto his injured arm. He screamed in pain, and tried to see through the crimson clouding his vision. There was another shot, and blood spurted from one of the other captures head. The child they were restraining fell to the floor and crawled away from the body, covered in their blood.




Several more people dropped like flies, releasing the children. Zenith looked up at the ceiling, and saw a flash of black only the trained eye could ever spot. Someone was there to help. It could be anyone, but judging from the sleek movements and the precision of the shots he guessed it was…


Xyliar shot the last adult there and regarded her work with pride. No one had as good a shot as her… Zenith was lying in the midst of all the screaming children, his eyes staring up at his sister with relief.

            She hopped down from the wooden shelf that ran across the wall and rolled as she landed, turning up directly beside her brother.

            “Zenith, get up.” She snapped at him.

            “I can’t, my leg’s broken, an my arm’s bleeding too much.” She looked him over to confirm his statement.

            “Okay, come here then.” She lifted him with ease from the floor and carried him towards the door.

            “What about the other children?” Zenith asked, weakly trying to turn and pull away from his sister to help the others.

            “Oh, stop it! The police will be here soon, okay?! I let a man know where I was going.” It wasn’t necessarily a lie, she’d told the man, and his daughter had been there. The daughter’s screams must have attracted attention, and that person would call the police to report a murder. And they’d assume the killer had been one of the kidnappers in the warehouse.

            “Okay then…” His eyes drooped and he faded into unconsciousness. She quickly took his pulse, he was okay, and walked him out in her arms, setting off into the darkness again. 

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