Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

October 27, 13,012

The day was warm and the breeze cool, the hills on the outskirts of the mountains painted in vivid shades of reds, greens, and golds. A clear sky greeted the inhabitants of the area, but despite the oddly pleasant weather, there were no animals to frolic, nor birds to sing.

Despite this magnificently calm day, the hills were unsettlingly quiet and vacant.

This did not concern the dark-cloaked traveler as he crested the southern hill, lightly grasping the reins of his black steed as he navigated about the trees. Sharp eyes meticulously scanned each one before swiftly moving on, slender fingers tugging the scarf about his face loose.

The scent of old blood wafted through the air. At least he was on the right path.

“You should quit sniffing like a dog and just rest for a bit,” a gruff, disembodied voice sniggered. “And no, standing still for all of about half an hour doesn’t count. Besides, I doubt it will take much more to find the girl; that mayor did say she came around nightfall. She’ll probably go, again, tonight.”

The man did not respond with more than a quiet hum.

“Are you just aching for a dirt nap? You keep pushing yourself, that’s where you’ll end up! And we know how fun those are when you can’t dig the hole!”

The words went unheeded as he continued to weave through trees. True to the voice’s comments, the girl would in all likelihood go back to the town. This was not the first he’d heard of her, but it was the first time he’d been hired to find a woman terrorizing a town. The towns in the surrounding area seemed to drive her off before she became a problem.

Word of his arrival had traveled fast, and the Mayor was even quicker to seek him out. Half down, the other half upon completion. So he would find this ‘terror’. It was a rather simple job, no point in wasting time on a short-lived rest.

---

Sleep clouded eyes stared blankly into the distance, observing the swaying trees while simultaneously seeing nothing at all. Limbs dangled limply from the branch the girl rested upon, bark digging into the flesh of her cheek with each shallow inhale. Despite the discomfort, she couldn’t bring herself to move at the moment. Her body ached from head to toe, and if she hadn’t known any better, she might have thought someone tried to beat her to death with a spoon over a ridiculously long amount of time.

There was a quiet clopping, and she could barely hear it, but it garnered her attention as it steadily drew nearer. So with a low moan, she stretched and eyed the area.

Nothing.

But she pushed herself up and leaned against the main trunk, her slowly mounting anxiety leaving her with the shakes. “That’s all I need right now. More trigger-happy numpties.” She pantomimed shooting a rifle and being shot with a loud ‘Ka-Blam’, catching sight of the traveler and his horse as she struggled to right herself on the branch.

Immediately, she noticed the curved longsword upon his back. “My God, would you look at that thing?! He could serve me up for dinner with that monstrosity! Just stuff me now and call me done!” she gasped quietly. “Maybe if I squawk like a chicken, he’ll pass me by.”

Her voice dropped in pitch as she imitated a man’s voice. “That’s one queer chicken, boy. Looks a little funny but damn it if she ain’t tasty!” And she giggled, entirely too amused from the simple one-sided banter. “Oh, I have problems. Or maybe I have fever.”

A quick pat to her stomach checking for fever and she laughed all the more. “Oh, I do have some, but that’s okay! I’m hot! Tssshhh…” Despite her delirium, all laughter ceased when she realized the man was but a few trees away. She could only hope he’d not heard her babbling as she stood and reached for a nearby branch.

But he had, he’d heard everything. With a reassuring pat on the neck of the horse, the traveler dropped the reins and continued to the tree, dark gaze searching for the girl hiding among the foliage. In truth, he need not search hard. Her childlike grace and unsteady footing betrayed her, sticks and leaves falling through the tree as she struggled to catch herself.

Her panicked breathing and soft curses thrummed in his ears.

The wide-brimmed hat tipped up, and she knew there was no sense in hiding. At least staying in the tree meant there was more distance and obstacles between them. Slowly, a choking aura enveloped her, fear creeping into her small frame as the gravity of her situation settled like a rock in her belly. She climbed further up, boots slipping over the slick bark. “Wh-what do you want?”

The man made no suggestions of answering, face passive as he treaded about the base of the tree, stalking her without ever coming closer. In hopes he would reply, she called down again. Still, no answer came forth. She closed her eyes, struggling to pull herself onto another branch.

A queer noise filled the air; not one of animals or insects. Nay, this noise – so quick and quiet she questioned the origin – sent chills down her spine, something akin to scratching and clacking against bark. In the same instant she opened her eyes, the man appeared before her on a neighboring branch, nary a hair misplaced from the sudden ascent, cloak quivering about his legs. Bits of bark trickling from his right hand.

To say she was surprised was an understatement, and as coal colored eyes caught her gaze, she could feel her world turn in on itself, her Soul cleaved open by the piercing gaze and laid bare for him to read.

She realized she was falling only after the first branch splintered beneath her back, breath forced from her lungs.

Like a rag doll, she tumbled down the tree, branches cracking amidst the sturdier limbs, and one could be impressed that she did little more than grunt with each lost breath.

Her body lurched to a brief stop as her leg slipped between a pair of limbs. A stomach-churning snap of a too-stressed bone replaced the sudden silence.

“Bloody f-!” The weakest limb gave before she could finish, and she landed with a dull thud, a guttural groan tearing through her bared teeth as she rolled onto her back. The man stood just a few feet away, though she did not immediately notice, too focused on keeping her quivering breaths steady and not vomiting on herself.

Wouldn’t want to add insult to injury, would we?

“Fudge nuts,” she finally finished with a hiss. “I should’ve never left, disappearances be damned.” She turned a critical eye upon the strange man, truly feeling insignificant as he loomed above her. Red flags flapped wildly at her instincts, urging her to flee, broke leg or no. It was then that it dawned on her; this man could very well be a professional hunter or mercenary sent to kill her.

‘He’s not some run-of-the-mill asshat.’

If that were the case, why had he made no move to end her life? Was it a scare tactic? Was she not worth his time? Or was it all a farce?

“Well, it’s been fun,” she squeaked, lurching to her feet despite the sickening cracks issuing from her noticeably broken leg, and she clapped her hands together with a small bow. “Very nice meeting you, you scary man, but I’m gonna leave while you’re giving me the chance!” With those parting words, she turned on her heel and ran like the dickens.

The traveler, watching the young woman run as though hell spawn were snapping their teeth at her heels, mounted the steed still waiting by the tree. The disembodied voice from before groaned, almost disgustedly. “You don’t really think this is her, do you? She didn’t try to fight you, just ran. I know she fits the description, but still.” The rough voice sounded almost disappointed. Perhaps it was expecting a show?

A pause filled the air, the man lightly spurring the horse’s flanks. “Hey, you aren’t seriously going after her are you? This whole job is a sham! Besides, it’s nearly dark. What if darkness is her strength?!”

The man ended the rant, voice cold and monotonous in tones. Laced with rust in a way. “We were charged to ‘take care of the woman terrorizing the town or bring her in’. I intend to do so.”

“Then why didn’t you grab her while she was here?!”

Unbeknownst to the scratchy voice, he’d already sized up the girl. Many things could accurately describe the girl; weary, sick, scared, but threatening was not one. A terror? To someone other than herself, unlikely.

It was an almost ridiculous notion.

Ahead of him, the girl was still running, left leg appearing lame but still managing to aid in her trot, if only barely. Trees parted about a town, and she darted around the building before her, tearing down the alley as fast as she could. She left a trail of destruction in her wake, cans and clothing lines alike knocked over as she headed for the main street. Unsurprisingly, not many people loitered in the streets, having heard the commotion and inherently knowing the girl was involved. Those that had not cleared out scattered at the sight of her stumbling into the road.

And she could hear the clopping, again. She knew what she had to do.

Around the corner he rode at a high rate of speed, gravel kicked loose by the horse’s powerful strides, and in that moment, he felt a shift in the girl’s aura. Briefly, he wondered if the brash voice might receive its show, wondered if he’d misjudged the girl as she pivot on her toes and charged, a black club in hand.

The horse reared, upset by the sharp pull on the reins as the man drew the longsword from the sheath upon his back. With a quiet ring, the blade was freed. Ignoring the fearsome sight, she leapt at him, squealing and eyes wide in terror as she swung out her arm. The two weapons clashed, the force enough to dislodge him from the saddle. He landed light on his feet, eyeing the silhouette currently angling down an adjacent alley.

Like the wind he moved, blocking her way down the narrow path. She stumbled back, yelping when his hand found purchase on her tattered shirt and her feet left the ground, her back against a brick wall.

She thrashed wildly in his hold, unable to do more than claw and punch at his arm. “Let go of me, you bloody behemoth!” The honed tip of his blade pressed into the flesh above her fluttering heart, and she fell silent for a short moment, eyeing him through a curtain of crimson hair. “I’m listening.”

“Face my employer, leave this area, or perish,” the man murmured succinctly. “It’s your decision.”

A disgusted scoff left her pale lips. “I run away to escape crap and just fall face first into more crap,” she muttered, not knowing her words reached his ears. “Yeah, I’m gonna have to go with D, none of the above. I’ve got someone I need to find, and I’m tired of people like you. Bunch of mindless freaks!”

Belatedly she realized she was taking her anger out on a man just doing his job. That he was, if anything, better than the people who’d come before. And whether he was angry or was stressing his ultimatum, the tip of his blade pressed into her chest with a force that landed on threatening.

But instead of getting smart and minding her mouth, she became furious. “I dare you,” she snarled, spitting in his face.

A simple flick of his wrist and the blade slid cleanly through her flesh, a trickle blood staining her well-worn shirt, and she writhed. The fight drained swiftly from her with each shuddering breath, pain gripping her with each stuttered beat of her heart. “F-fine! I’ll leave!”

He dropped her and she crumpled at his feet, clutching at the piercing in her chest. Her life flowed freely with the blade gone and stained her pale, shaking hands. The flutter of a travel-worn coat was her only indication the man was mounting the horse waiting patiently at the end of the passage. “Y’know, I don’t see much difference between this and just killing me. I guess the upside would be the chance to find a doctor, if one would see me. But, he is giving me a chance. Others didn’t,” she breathed.

Few would know the man could hear her mutterings from his distance, but her problems didn’t really concern him.

She staggered to her feet and stumbled from the alleyway, eyes trailing after the black form. With a shuddering breath, she followed, sight dimming with the strain. “Heh, maybe I’ll die from this? May as well just take me now, God!” Black spotted what vision she had. Each movement felt progressively more sluggish and leaden.

‘I am dying.’ A pitiful whimper fled her lips.

The man upon the horse knew this, her flubbing heartbeat something he was not unused to hearing. But she continued to trail after him and into the forest. It was commendable, really. Still limping about on a broken leg, practically knocking at Death’s door, but determined to follow the man who’d left you in that condition.

Only when there was a gentle tug at his coat did he spare her a glance. Her bloodied hand clutched to the fabric as he continued on, fingers twitching as she struggled to keep up. “I can’t leave the… area if I die beforehand. Although… I guess that works in your favor… either way, huh?” she slurred, voice barely audible.

A gentle tug on the reins and the beast halted, stomping at the ground in an agitated manner. In a slow move, he twisted in the saddle, giving her his attention. She continued to hold fast to his coat, swaying like a drunkard. And she was pale, deathly pale.

Her lips curved with a small smile. “I know that asking… is probably silly, but could you help me out? Or take me to a doctor… that will help me?” The man above was silent and she nodded her head, lurching with the small movement. She need not look at him to know he would not answer. “What a way to be heartless.” She forcefully smacked the rump of the horse just as her eyes rolled back and she collapsed, face first, into the ground.

There was a long, hard laugh from the vicinity of the man’s left hand as the man calmed the startled horse, the sound clear amongst the beast’s displeased snorts. The flesh of his palm contorted to form a leering face, and the man seemed wholly unfazed by the countenanced carbuncle taking residence within his flesh. “Finally, a woman not melting with desire! It’s a nice change. But you’re not heartless! It’s there! It’s just buried beneath centuries of dust and stone.”

The traveler did not respond, but the creature hadn’t expected one, simply following his owner’s gaze with beady eyes as a devious smile curved its small, wrinkled lips. “Perhaps, since she is here, you can refuel. She’s already dying. Just put her out of her misery and end your own suffering,” it coaxed, grinning wider at the sharp glare it received. “Who knows? Maybe she’ll taste as sweet as she smells… underneath the other smells.”

There was a long silence as the man dismounted and kneeled beside the girl, a slender hand exposing her pale neck. “I’m amazed she’s still alive,” he murmured.

The queer creature snickered. “No thanks to you. Well, not like it matters much. She won’t live much longer at this rate. At least, probably not through the night.”

He quietly hummed, briefly deliberating. The creature was right. The girl had been sick before, body struggling and running off adrenaline when it could, whether she realized it or not. Perhaps he’d pushed her body too far. But in a rare show of pity, or curiosity, he scooped up the limp girl and mounted the horse.

“Woah!” the creature cried. “I didn’t say take her with us! How did this even become an option?!”

There was no response as they navigated the dark woods.

It sighed obnoxiously loud. “Why?”

Was he even sure?

“Curious,” he stated, settling her in the saddle when she shifted. It was the best answer he could give. And rather uncharacteristic.

Slowly they headed into the cliffs. The air chilled and the wind moaned through the large trees. Or, maybe it was the girl moaning. He averted his gaze, watching as she slowly woke. She flailed weakly, startled by the horse’s loud snort.

“What the?” Lidded grey eyes narrowed at the bloodied hand pressed between her breasts before eyeing the man. “I want down.”

“You wanted help.”

Whether she realized the words did not leave the man’s slim lips was debatable. She squirmed pathetically in his hold, and anger flushed her cheeks when his hold did not lessen. “Well, you didn’t seem to care earlier! Why the change of heart?!”

A loud crunch ruptured the air.

Blood dripped from each nostril, and for a moment, the man looked truly fearsome, if rather unfazed. A steady hand reset his nose and wiped away the crimson fluid.

The girl eyed the fresh blood, her mouth dropped in awe, and a thought occurred to him. “Are you Human?” But she only turned her gaze forward and smiled sweetly, as if saying, “Oh, you; you’re so silly.” Gradually she slumped in his hold, head bobbing with the horse’s gait.

“Gee,” his hand breathed. “She’s a little off kilter. Besides, does she come off as Human?”

They both turned their gazes upon her, and both came to the same conclusion. They weren’t sure. There was nothing truly otherworldly about her, but it was something that couldn’t be placed.

“Hmm, maybe we’ll figure that one out before we leave.”

The remainder of the trek passed in relative silence, few creatures about and wise enough to see when they were no match for the man in black. They followed a small goat trail up a cliff to a shallow cave, one he’d seen some time before that gave an impressive view of the forest below. But he wasn’t there for pretty views.

They ducked into the cave, his eyes narrowed as he scanned for threats before throwing down a makeshift pallet for the girl. His, thankfully new, medical kit and lantern were next to follow, the lantern warming the immediate area. In the light, he could see just how pale she’d become, the blood stained, tattered shirt a stark contrast. But he did not dwell on this, pulling away the shirt and unlatching the worn and dented armor about her upper torso.

The scent of infection filled the air. A large wound, purple and weeping puss, looked untreated and bled weakly from fresh tears. If he were someone else, he might have cringed at the sight of such a horrid wound. But the man bats not one eye as he works on cleansing the grisly thing alongside the chest wound, stitching them closed and wrapping her side with an antibiotic and salve-soaked cloth.

Still, the stench of infection did not leave, and he eyed the lingering injuries. It really was a wonder this girl was still alive. If anything, he was amazed she’d not gone septic with some of the open wounds.

Sometime later, fragments of arrows and the occasional bullet rest beside him, cradled within soiled rags. The only thing left was her leg. But that would have to wait. It wouldn’t do for her to vomit and aspirate in her sleep.

Really, everything about her seemed Human, almost painfully normal. Her aura was tame, her speed impressive if you consider her broken leg, but…

The man’s curiosity grew.

Why not peer into her memories for her story?

A lurid light coursed through his eyes as he pressed his left hand to her feverish forehead. Images flashed before his eyes, the most recent flickering by first.

The girl was running, leaping from rooftop to rooftop away from people bearing guns, a ball of plasma hitting her shoulder. She lurched forward, slapping into the tiled roof with a grunt as broken shingles fell to the street below. Trembling hands slipped and bled on broken tiles as she scrambled up.

She was sitting in a bare classroom, listening to a kindly teacher with rapt attention as she cautioned the few students left about kidnappings. Her eyes turned about the room. Ten labeled desks lie empty. Looking over the five remaining people in the room, she nodded silently to herself. Three days, she would wait no more than three days before leaving.

She was outside, walking past a group of older teens, when they began stoning her. Garbled insults streamed from their mouths. She wept, not understanding why she was a freak when she barely remembered her own name.

Many memories flitted across his vision. And with each one he studied, he knew for certain this girl was no monster. But he pressed on through her memories, delving into what should have been her childhood. There was nothing.

At least, not at first.

A gore-filled home, not wholly uncommon in this world, filled with the laughter of a madman and the cries of a child. And a woman’s voice, soft and sweet, calmly explaining something that couldn’t quite be understood.

The visions faded, and with a quiet grunt, the man snapped back. Pain gripped him, much like an oncoming migraine. His left arm seized, twitching almost uncontrollably.

As fast as it happened, it all ended.

A quiet huff left tiny lips as the hand muttered to himself and contemplated the reasons for such a forceful denial. “There is a memory blocker in place. I don’t think she is strong enough to place one herself, so I have to imagine someone forcibly placed it there. And we didn’t get what you wanted.”

Beady black eyes scrutinized the girl. “I’m just gonna say this now; I don’t like this. Something is definitely off about her, especially her past. So, just leave her now before you get in too deep.”

The creature had a point.

“Come on, get up! Let’s ditch her.”

It was unclear if the man even knew what kept him rooted to his spot as she moaned and thrashed.

“Wow, I feel like I’ve been bludgeoned within an inch of my life,” she gasped, rolling onto her belly to push herself up. It was only then that she opened her eyes, heart leaping into her throat when she did not recognize the surroundings. And she stilled. She need not look to feel the presence of the intimidating man behind her, but she did, head dipping down to peer between her legs.

A quiet command had her freezing in place before she’d had a chance to bolt, shivering as he gestured for her to come closer. “Why?”

“Your leg,” he responded succinctly.

She would be lying if she said she wasn’t confused. “But… before? I… you hurt me. Why fix me? I mean, I know I asked if you could help me get help, but this…” With a grunt she sat on her bottom, eyeing her dressed wounds suspiciously. Realization dawned on her heart-shaped face. “Wait. Where is my armor and shirt?!”

Despite the brassiere covering her breasts, she covered her chest and skittered away from him. “I’m serious, you freaky man! Where is my bloody stuff?!” Part of her knew that to dress her wounds the items needed to be removed, but she was more concerned with keeping her no-no squares well dressed.

The clatter of armor drew her attention just as her ratty shirt smacked her face. In that moment, she was grateful he tossed the items to her instead of bringing them to her. And despite the pain and discomfort that came with twisting about to latch the armor in place, she felt more at ease with it on.

“Thank you,” she sighed, almost embarrassed at her outburst. “Sorry, no-no squares and all…”

The man’s gaze had not left her yet as she fidgeted with her shirt, and he beckoned her close, again. “Pull off your boot and roll up your breeches, if you can.” She did not question him, sitting meekly with her bare leg in his lap. He ran his hands lightly down her shin and calf, feeling for any more breaks than the obvious one and checking her pulse.

“You never did answer.”

She jerked, staring confused. “Answer what? You haven’t asked me anything.”

“On the way here, I asked if you were Human.”

“Only after you punched him.”

Her eyes became vacant as she searched an empty mind, not entirely hearing the other voice. “I passed out, didn’t I? I was probably talking in my sleep. I do that. Besides,” she murmured as she turned her gaze to the man beneath the broad-brimmed hat. “What kinda question is that? If I’m not Human, am I a kitty? Meow!”

She playfully clawed at the air with one hand and hissed. “I mean, what else could I be? A dog?” she snarked. “What a strange question to ask someone.”

The man did not pay mind to her remarks, fingers pressing a bit firmer upon the swollen flesh of her leg. “Where are you from?” he enquired.

“The orphanage in Puregon,” she breathed. “Um…that’s north-ish, I think.”

“Why roam the local towns only at night?”

“Why ask so many personal questions?” His eyes briefly flickered to her face before focusing on her leg. “Right, I’m lucky I’m not dying right now. Well… I felt safer surrounded by people. Maybe it was just paranoia, but this is one of the few times I can remember not feeling watched. Wouldn’t know about before. Maybe it’s a good thing I don’t remember why I’m an orphan.” A wry smile twisted her lips, and for a moment, she felt at ease with the stranger’s presence.

“Hold still,” he commanded in a soft tone. After a moment of brief confusion, she leaned back and braced herself. One break would be simple enough to set, but both the fibula and tibia were snapped and twisted. In one fluid movement, he stretched out her leg and twisted it.

The girl gasped and gagged, one hand pressed to her lips, bile leaking between her fingers as she writhed. And she cursed with tears streaming down her cheeks; she cursed life, she cursed the man, she cursed anything her mind could grasp. She was almost sure she kicked him at some point, but hurt too much to care as he continued setting the bones.

“Please tell me you are almost done!”

“You shouldn’t have run on a broken leg.”

“Well, I didn’t feel like I had much of a choice!” she cried indignantly, almost sobbing with relief when he began fashioning a makeshift splint. “But, thank you. I know you didn’t have to do any of this. So, I have to ask. Why do any of this?”

He did not answer. Instead, he asked a question in turn. “You said you were looking for someone; who?”

“Just a mercenary of sorts,” she murmured. “Or, maybe you can help me.” Her face lit up at the idea, and she smiled widely. “You were hired to find me and… get rid of me, right? So, you must have the knowhow to do what I need. If you are willing…”

Finished with wrapping her leg, he shifted, if only barely, to prop his elbow upon his knee as she scooted back. He said nothing, merely studying her as she examined her leg and fingered the fabric.

“Maybe, just maybe, you’re the one I was looking for. Someone who can stop nightly disappearances.” Her eyes lit up with joy, and for a moment, the man could see a splash of green in the grey irises. “I can pay you! This works out perfectly if you say yes! Oh! The name’s Krista!” She held out a small hand that the traveler merely ignored, sheepishly drawing it back.

“I’m almost 18 if it’s an age thing; will be in a couple of weeks? When’s the 31^st?” She shrugged. “Ah, not like it matters. So, will you? Will you come back with me?”

“Perhaps,” he replied.

She was overjoyed with his uncommitted answer; it was better than a flat out no. Until he spoke again.

“You will come with me to the town of my employer. From there I will decide.”

The most uncomfortable grimace twisted her lips before she sighed. She knew if she wanted his help, she would need to do this, especially after everything else. “Alright. I will.”

The lantern flickered off, and she tried to catch the man’s gaze as he stood. She knew not what she expected to learn from staring into his eyes, but she could almost see the age and horrors he’d seen hidden by an emotionless mask. And something about him seemed wholly otherworldly.

“Go to sleep.” He sat with his back to the cave wall, one leg drawn in to rest his arm upon and sword cradled there. For a moment, he had to wonder what he was heading into with the snarky girl. And he watched her wiggle about on the pallet as he caressed the horse’s muzzle.

“Don’t you wanna sleep here?” At his soft no, Krista leaned up on one arm and pulled at the black ends of her waist-length hair. “Wait, what’s your name?”

“D.”

October 28, 13,012

The sun was yet to rise when Krista snapped out of sleep, her leg throbbing but better in that it wasn’t twisted queerly. With a wide yawn, she struggled to stand from the pallet before she eventually opted to quietly crawl from her spot. She flopped onto her belly once at the mouth of the cave, leg propped up by the opposite one as she scowled at the moon. “When I left the orphanage, this is not what imagined would happen. And I figured my leg would feel better, not worse.”

The hairs on the nape of her neck rose, and she twisted her head around to gaze upon the intimidating man standing by her side. ‘I didn’t even hear him come up.’ Something in her mind told her this was no normal man. From the heavy aura hanging about him to the… wait, what did he just say?

“Say what?”

“Let me check your leg.”

Her brows furrowed. “Why? You just barely fixed it. It’s not like there is gonna be much difference this morning.” She had to admit, the throbbing had all but dissipated since she’d first woken, but that didn’t mean much to her. At his pointed stare, however, she rolled over and lifted it for his inspection.

D’s chilled fingers pressed against the pulse points in her thigh over her breeches before he unwrapped her leg. Lightly, he ran a fingertip down the length to her foot, and she giggled and twitched before he roughly pinched the skin. She yelped, glaring at him, but she couldn’t pull her leg from his grasp. “Mind telling me what that was for?”

“I’m ensuring you won’t lose your leg from a pinched artery and that no nerves are pinched.”

“That… that makes sense,” she muttered. “Look, I’m sorry for my attitude. I’m not normally so… so…” She trailed off, unable to find the words to describe her mood. “I’m sorry for being so nasty. For spitting in your face when you were just doing your job.”

“You should be sorry, you little-!”

That did not sound like this man’s voice.

She stared up at him, watching his left hand clench, skin turning white across his knuckles. She had to wonder if he was agitated with her, but, something about him made her think he was not the kind to easily agitate. In fact, most of his interaction with her thus far had been rather stoic. Not a single emotion really showed.

However, she did not bring up the voice. Instead, she stretched around him to grab her boot and eased her swollen foot into it. The slight pressure was comforting. “This probably isn’t my brightest idea, but…” With her breeches pulled into place, she struggled in vain to rewrap her leg. “Yup, not happening.”

The Hunter did not let her struggle much longer, quickly wrapping it with ease. This girl, she seemed rather ‘simple’, save her spitfire attitude. Only time would really tell. Without a word, he moved to his cybernetic horse, pulling out a pink apple for the large beast. Happily, the horse ate.

He felt a shift in the air behind him, casting a sidelong glance at Krista as she snuck towards him, though he doubted she could see his eyes trained on her. No longer a dull grey, her effervescent green eyes shined in the dim light with mischief. A lone finger extended, she crept until she was close enough to poke him inexplicably hard.

Chapter Text

October 28, 13,012

It had been two, nay, nearly three hours since she poked him, and Krista had yet to still her quaking. She was ninety percent sure she’d drastically lowered, if not completely extinguished, her chances of him coming with her. In fact, she was sorely tempted to run screaming for the hills.

What had happened?

In quick succession to poking him, she received a glare. Oh, a glare. Is that all? From any other person, it would have been just that: a look. Coming from this man, D? No, it was a look so black it made her heart stop. The spike in his already-intimidating aura left her reeling.

She knew, based off this reaction, that if she were to ever come at him with the intent to kill, he would cut her down without hesitation. Perhaps it should have been obvious.

The woodland proved more comforting than the rocky walls of the shallow cave, the surrounding sights providing a welcome distraction. The cool wind and dewy smell filled her with energy, the smallest of smiles lifting her lips. Until she looked upon the man riding at her side. The bright energy and colors seemed to fade around him, like a little monochrome pit of despair that clung to his shoulders.

Her bounce returned to a limp, leaving with it the thought of an easy slaughter.

Yellow flowers, a beacon of joy in the world of plants, caught her eye. With excitement one might find befitting a toddler when presented with a new toy, Krista did no less than sprint to the patch with her hands flung high into the air. In the time it took D to catch up, she managed to fill her arms with the daisies. “Where can you go wrong with flowers?”

Noticeably happier, she awkwardly skipped along, not knowing which city employed him, but not concerned with it for the moment. The little cloud of despair around D seemed to shrink, and no longer did she feel so worried about him. Almost as though the flowers knew in their own way that this girl needed calming, pulling the negative energy from her.

However, after a bit, various assortments of insects began buzzing her and the flowers. She gladly let them collect pollen and rest. Really, she was more than happy to allow this, until a large bumblebee buzzed mere inches from her face. “No, Mister Buzz-buzz. You need to go for the flowers just like everyone else.” She wiggled a flower at arm’s length, praying the large bug would move along.

It did not care for her choice of flower, inspecting the small thing before viciously planting its rear on her arm. With a screech, she slapped the bee into the ground and skittered closer to her companions. “What is wrong with my flowers? Picky bee; this is good stuff!”

A handful of minutes passed before she heard it. The buzzing of a too close bumblebee. She waved a hand by her ear, but the sound only grew louder. With a quick look over her shoulder, she spied the source. A horde of bumblebees gathered in a cloud were giving chase. “That little turd!” she screamed, running about as best she could, her precious flowers in hand.

“Drop the flowers!”

How she managed to hear the hoarse voice over her own screaming was a mystery, but she readily obeyed, tossing the flowers to the wind. She only stopped running when she no longer felt the vibration of their beating wings.

The flowers scattering must have distracted the enormous bees, their fat bodies swarming the fallen plants to scrutinize every petal before flitting away the way they came.

One lone bumblebee dropped from the air with a soft thud.

“That’s what he gets for stinging me.” She smiled almost uncertainly at D as she limped her way to him. She knew she would likely get no answer, but having calmed from earlier, she wanted to attempt some form of conversation with the man she was following. “Thanks? And, I gotta ask… again. Why are you helping me? No, why did you help me?”

He did not answer, but she continued.

“Because, I can’t help but wonder. If you do come with me, will you wait until I am asleep to take advantage of me? Like, steal all my money and run off before I can wake?” She did not notice his quirked eyebrow at the odd question, because there were worse things than money being stolen that could happen when someone is asleep and being taken advantage of.

“Or, perhaps you will find me too much of a burden, kill me, and then take off with everything I have? Don’t get me wrong. I am ecstatic at the fact that you are even considering coming with me. But, with all the characters I have met over the past 11 years, especially since I left the orphanage, I can’t help but wonder if you are just the same as everyone else.”

Krista was right to assume he would not reply.

Really, what was it to him in the end? But then, why help her to begin with?

The ground began sloping down, and both could spy the town not far away, surrounded by the forest on all sides. It was no capital, but it was a fairly well-off town surrounded by a wall. Not many went without in this town, and those that did… well, they didn’t really matter. Not in this town.

D guided the steed with ease around the shrubs and trees and over rocks. Krista had no such luck. “Kid’s not too graceful, is she?” the creature in his hand remarked. They watched as she tumbled down the hill, not bothering to help her stop, merely observing.

It had a point, though. She was very ungraceful, and seemed none too bright.

They came to rest upon the impressive horse by her unmoving body, and D gazed steadily at her back. She did not move, not even a twitch, as the horse impatiently stomped at her. There she stayed for several moments until D stretched down and lifted her by the back of her shirt. She hung there like a kitten, tears streaming down her cheeks.

It was an almost comical sight.

“It hurts to move,” Krista hissed through clenched teeth. Even suspended in the air, she felt pain. She was almost sure she made her leg worse.

Her world spun briefly as he tossed her over his shoulder and into the saddle. At his quiet command to hold on, she numbly wrapped her arms about his waist. She sat stiffly, unsure of how to keep her balance or how to hold fast to D as he weaved the horse through the trees.

In just a few short minutes, the town gates rose before them. The guards recognized the Hunter’s silhouette, waving him in despite the presence of the wanted girl. The trot through town left her red in the face with shame, able to feel the penetrating glares the people cast her as they passed. She could remember this town, now.

A clean and well-tended estate came into view. It was almost painfully white despite the trimmed bushes surrounding it. And it was separate from the rest of the housing.

Without a word, D slipped from the girl’s hold and gestured for her to sit still. The man of the house eagerly met him at the door, smile wide until he caught sight of Krista sitting atop the horse. It did not take a genius to know he was a man used to getting his way.

“You brought it here? I told you to deal with it!” He ran a hand through his salt and pepper hair, growling.

“You hired me to do either or,” he murmured, head tipped down but eyes still narrowed upon the man. “She will not be bothering the town after this.”

The man grew increasingly more agitated. “And by ‘bring it in’, I was hoping you would understand that it needed to be deceased.”

“She doesn’t seem to be much of a terror, as you called her,” the countenanced carbuncle grumbled, though it seemed the man could not tell it was not the Hunter. “There wasn’t much of a reason to follow through with taking her life.”

His face turned red with anger and embarrassment. He really should have been more specific with his reasoning, but it was too late. “I’m not paying you the other half. Half pay for a half-breed and a half-assed job seems more than fair.”

“You really wanna do this?” the hand quipped.

“Why have her hunted to begin with?”

Face turning a darker shade, the man sputtered. “She is a menace to society, terrorizing the people of the city. She needs to be dealt with!”

“And she has been.” The Hunter held out his hand, and after several moments fuming, the man tossed the agreed amount to him.

“Now get out of my town,” he hissed at the Hunter’s back.

“Only after we resupply.”

---

Krista waited with her head turned down, unable to hear the conversation or see the employer, but she flinched when the door slammed shut. “That sounds like it didn’t end the best. I hope he still got paid.”

“I did.”

“Oh, good.” She smiled weakly at him, wholly uncomfortable with the entire situation. It didn’t take much to figure out she was as welcome as bedbugs in this town. “Now that you’re done with them, will you come with me to Puregon?”

“Supplies, first.”

A loud squeal left her, and for a moment he would swear he could see stars in her eyes. No, perhaps those were tears.

"Thank you!” With trembling fingers, she began digging for her coin purse. “I will give you everything I have in this pouch. I know it’s probably a lot less than what you just got paid, but…” She faltered, eyeing the hand stilling hers.

“Keep it for now,” he answered before she could ask. “Buy the things you need.”

She was honestly amazed. “Really?” At his slight nod she smiled widely. “Sincerely, thank you. I will still pay you, though. I don’t know when, but I will.”

Back at the center of town, D carefully secured the horse at the trough. Krista slipped from the saddle with an undignified grunt, squeaking and shuddering with nervous energy. She was still overjoyed he was to accompany her, but another part of her was terrified. ‘Will they try to attack me while I’m alone?’

‘Don’t be such a baby. Just get it all over with,’ a voice not unlike her own but undeniably foreign answered.

Her eyes went wide. “I know I’m in the habit of talking to myself, but I don’t remember having a voice ever answer back…”

‘Well, I’m answering now. So, if you could just move this along, that’d be great.’

“Fine,” she muttered, inching her way closer to the man in black. “Hey, D?”

He cast her a sidelong glance, watching her fidget.

“I’m gonna go down to the smithy, see if he can’t fix my chest plates. If you hear screaming, maybe make sure I ain’t dead in the ditch? I’d appreciate it!” She smiled toothily at him, patting the air around his shoulder apprehensively. Wouldn’t want to irk him by invading his personal space, again. “So, ah… I’ll be back in a bit to get food for myself. It won’t be much for them to gather. I’ve kinda stopped eating since I left Puregon.”

Without another word, Krista skittered down the street, eyes searching for the blacksmith’s shop. She knew she’d seen one during her mad run through town, and she could only hope that the person was in as good a mood as the rest of the people in this town.

‘Except for that guy. He was in a really pissy mood.’

“Yeah, seemed like it,” she agreed distractedly. She finally caught sight of the open-faced building, gaping in awe at all of the clutter. Walls were lined with armor of all types and every weapon imaginable. Maces, daggers, swords, lances, firearms. It was incredible, but with all the clutter, it was no surprise that she found herself lost amongst the equipment and scraps.

She jumped as high as she could, spying the thin man laboring over a rapier, before she fell over the nearest pile of scrap. Without looking up, the man yelled, “There is a clear path along the left wall.”

Too true this was. With flushed cheeks, Krista made her way to him. “Sorry, I need to know if you can fix my chest plates.”

The grinding stone whirred to a stop and he held out a hand. “Let me see ‘em.”

An already pink face darkened as she worked to unlatch the pieces under her shirt. He eyed them once she was done, comparing the shape of the plate to her fairly flat chest and finding the plate just a tad too flat. “Give me a few hours and I’ll have those looking good as new, maybe fitting properly, too.”

“Just a few hours?” she asked incredulously.

The smith laughed lightly. “Promise.”

“How much?”

“I’m gonna estimate it in the five hundred range. Got at least that much?”

She did not have to check to know she had well over that amount, nodding her head vigorously. “Thank you, I shall return!” she called. Like a startled mouse, she fled the shop and slammed face-first into a broad chest. And she screamed in fright, arms shielding her face.

“This is how I die!”

But no death came.

‘Look up, you idiot.’

She did, smiling sheepishly at the Hunter eyeing her. “Sorry, I thought… I don’t know what I thought. I guess I thought you were an angry town liver… An angry people… Argh, you get my point!” A rough shudder went through her. “Either way, it’s gonna be a few hours and I gotta go to one more place before I get food.”

With a near silent squeak and a small hop, she took off down the street, oblivious to the scrutinizing gaze the man gave her. A clothing store meant for travelers caught her eye and she threw herself through the door. Her breeches were fine, however… She cast a scornful look at her shirt.

The stained shirt was a pathetic sight, in tatters and worn thin. Not to mention how filthy it was. And losing her cloak proved to her just how horrid the elements could be when without protection. A bit of scanning and she found all she felt she would need. A single shirt and traveling cloak. And a couple of spare pairs of undies.

That really wasn’t much, but she was confident in her ability to keep semi-clean. And besides, why buy too horribly much when she had nowhere to truly store it?

D stepped from the shadow of the building as she passed and scanned the street for him. But upon his ‘sudden appearance’, she screeched and flung her new clothes at him. Without a word, he plucked the painfully plain underwear off the edge of his wide brimmed hat.

This girl, she startled far too easily. But, if he were her, perhaps he would be the same.

To the grocer she fled with cheeks flushed, quickly swapping out shirts and pulling on her new cloak. The old shirt found a home in the waste bin outside the store, underwear tucked inside the cloak.

He found she was not lying when she said she’d not been eating much. She picked out a couple of sour apples and a tin of crackers, knowing the ride home would take a couple of days. Beyond that, a few hygiene items and she was done.

“Do you mind if I put this in one of your bags?” At his soft no, she deposited her items and followed him to the local tavern.

Silence reigned over the room, activities ceased, as they entered the building, patrons eyeing the duo apprehensively through the swirling clouds of acrid smoke. Even after the pair occupied a small corner table where light was little, no one dared to speak until a petite waiter came to them.

“My name’s Marlo,” he started, leaning in close to the table to better hear. “What can I get you two?”

The Hunter ordered a red wine by a name she would never remember, and with her mouth agape, she meekly requested water. “Forgive me if I’m wrong, but you don’t seem the drinking type.”

“Typically,” the creature in his hand answered, though she knew no different.

The glasses hit the table with a soft clink. “If you need anything else, just yell,” the man said, spinning on his heel to leave as a group of men at a nearby table laughed.

“Marlo, please. With how strong their drinks are, I’m sure they won’t make it to a second round!” a man with unruly black hair quipped. He was on the verge of drunk, along with the rest of the men guffawing around him.

Marlo ran a hand through his red curls before slapping the man on the back of his head. “Don’t pester others with your drunken teasing this early in the day, Ned.” The man, Ned, could only laugh boisterously as Marlo left, but did not comment anymore.

Krista smiled at the exchange, chugging over half her glass before D could take more than a sip of his own. Without a word, she leaned across the table and sniffed his wine. Her nose wrinkled. “Never tried wine. I like the idea of it, it’s pretty, but I can’t get past the smell.”

A soft roll of the shoulders, she shrugged and finished her glass. “Well, I don’t know if you know, but I came through the mountain pass to get here. The one they carved.” He nodded softly at the information. “So, after we go through there, we go back to the north. I think… maybe it is more northeast?”

A hearty and genuine laugh left her suddenly wide smile. “You’d think in my mad run I would have at least remembered the towns I passed through.”

He was silent for a moment, taking another slow sip of the wine. “There is a town just the other side of the pass. We’ll reach there by nightfall.”

“You sure?” At his nod, she murmured, “I guess that makes sense if I go with you on the horse. Walking takes a lot longer than riding.”

They sat in silence, waiting on the girl’s armor while he continued to sip on the red wine.

Well, perhaps in silence was not quite accurate.

“My eyes burn!” she cried, rubbing each one with the back of her thumbs.

She’d tried, once more, to see into the man’s eyes, quickly finding herself in a stare down.

And another.

And another.

And another.

And she’d lost each one. Really, she wasn’t even sure if he had blinked in between each match. “How can you go that long without blinking? I could win if I just jabbed you in the eye, but you’d probably murder me!” She hunched over, palms to each eye, and lightly stomped at the floor with her feet.

D drained the last bit in his glass before standing. The few hours had passed. There was no sense in waiting any longer. He had to wonder if he was truly destined to travel with this girl. But, just how bad could it be?

Life has a strange way of answering sometimes.

He placed the owed amount on the counter, turning long enough to observe as Krista stumbled over the leg of her own chair and mowed down Marlo. Even as he left the bar, a series of crashes reached his ears well down the street. Horse in tow, he waited outside the blacksmith’s shop.

A few minutes later she came running down the street, eyes wild, face flushed, and forehead bruised just above her brows. She smiled widely. “Howdy! I’ll be just a moment assuming I don’t kill myself on something in here. And assuming that man back there doesn’t decide to gather a mob to kill me. God knows the counter already tried.”

By the time she came back out, the bruise had darkened considerably. She struggled with the clasps on her armor, pleasantly surprised by how well and comfortably it fit now. “Wow, that’s nice. Bunches better! So, we done here?”

D merely headed down the road, listening to the girl stumble along and fight with her cloak.

“Very lacking in grace, and an idiot,” the carbuncle grumbled quietly. “Really, why don’t you just ditch her? She’ll figure out how to solve her own problems… at some point. Besides, you’re not getting paid. What’s the point?” There was a small pause. “You think she’d freak out if she knew just how old you are?”

"You talking to me?” Krista suddenly asked, hands clasped lightly behind her back. “Or are you talking to yourself? Do you do it often?”

“Do you?”

“I think? Is there a problem with it?”

They were near the town gates, and she watched as he mounted the steed with a flourish of his coat.

‘I don’t think he really cares.’

“I don’t guess so,” she muttered. She glanced up at him, eyeing his extended hand. “You want me to ride?”

‘Nah, he seems like quite the romantic.’

Krista was mid-eye roll when he affirmed her suspicions. “You gonna save me when I fall off head first? Because previous experiences with horseback riding say that’s gonna happen.” He did not respond. “I’ll take that as a maybe.”

Hair at the nape of her neck stood on end as she slipped her hand into his and he effortlessly pulled her into the saddle. His hand was only as chilled as before, but something sent a torrent of chills across her body. And for just a moment it unnerved her.

---

The man did not lie.

Upon the horse they did exit the passage, town appearing ablaze as the sun settled behind the mountains. It was a small settlement, filled mainly with miners and lumberjacks.

At the town stables, D dismounted and patiently waited as Krista slid off the mount, landing heavily on her stomach. He did not wait on her to stand. Well-practiced hands unlatched the saddle and bags and he hoisted them onto his shoulder.

With the horse in the care of the paid stable hand, D headed for the tavern, Krista trailing behind him. She could honestly say that her rump was sore. Her thighs were sore. Everything was sore once the numbness wore off. She rubbed her bottom. Even her side and leg seemed agitated by the journey.

“I will take care of our room.”

She choked on her spit before glowering at the pale man. “Wait, our room? I am perfectly able to buy my own!”

The Hunter merely gestured at the sign hanging in the window of the tavern, proudly declaring their single vacancy.

“That’s convenient,” she grumbled. “Sorry… But I can still help pay for it.”

She was ignored, and in her funk, she did not recall him paying for the room, nor did she remember following him there. In fact, he was already in the dark room, depositing the saddle and bags. She stood there, staring for a long while, before she groped for the light switch.

It was a quaint room. With only one bed. Where the duvet matched the pattern and color of the carpet. And a single chair to the left of it all. It was hard to look at. Well, there’s no accounting for taste.

Krista’s pulled her weapon from her waist and set it upon the dresser across from the bed. “You mind if I go bathe?” she quietly asked. At his soft no, she pulled her things from a bag and stumbled into the bathroom.

Sword at his side, D leaned against the headboard, listening to the running water. There he stayed for several minutes, eyes closed against the light in the room until she came back out. She shuffled across the room to the switch, combing the dripping locks with slim fingers.

With the light off, she collapsed in the chair with a sigh.

“Let me check your wounds.”

She groaned as she stood, shirt, armor, and arms lifted. Sure fingers prodded at the wound on her side. While it no longer wept, it was still angry. After a moment of gathering the necessary items, he rewrapped her side with another antibiotic and salve-soaked cloth. Every other stitched wound was fine.

“Where is your splint?” he asked softly, hands running down her shin.

“In the bathroom. I still couldn’t figure out how to put it back on and I didn’t feel like I needed it too much.” She watched him disappear into the bathroom with a scowl. “I feel like a bloody child with all this mothering.”

The man did not reply as he returned and secured the splint about her still-swollen leg. It felt leagues better, but it wasn’t healed.

She curled up in the chair once out of his hold, knees to her chest, toes wriggling contently. Her cloak pulled about her shoulders, she waited for sleep to greet her. Instead, she felt the piercing gaze of the man in black. “What?”

Leaned against the wall, he gestured at the bed. “You should sleep on the bed so your wounds heal properly.”

The glare she sent him was almost chilling for someone of her disposition and stature. As if another side lie dormant, waiting to make its grand entrance. Just as quickly, the look was gone. A serene smile lifted her lips. “Nah, you should take the bed. I slept on your pallet, seems only fitting. Besides, I’m fine.”

D watched as she curled in on herself and swiftly fell asleep, eyes studying her figure. Not much had changed since the day before but she did appear less sickly.

“A bit stubborn, isn’t she,” the creature started, twisting D’s left hand about to better see the girl.

Indeed. This would be a long job should he need to deal with a stubborn mule the entire time.

A stubborn mule missing a front and back leg. And no common sense.

“You know, speaking of stubborn…”

If the man were inclined to show emotion, he might’ve rolled his eyes and sighed in exasperation.

“You need to rest. We went over this the other day. All you are doing is running headlong into a case of Sunlight Syndrome. It might be the death of her if you decided to show your fangs,” it chortled.

He did not respond, gently pulling Krista from the chair and settling her tiny frame on the bed. Like it or not, this is where she needed to be. He left her wrapped in her cloak as he claimed the chair, legs crossed and arms folded across his chest.

“Hey, you better not stay up again just to watch her. I mean, did you even sleep last night?”

Before the creature could finish, D was tilting his head down, entering a dreamless realm somewhere between awake and asleep.

---

She doubled over and wiped at her face and eyes, breathing heavily. Had she been running? Was she crying?

“What is going on around here?” she questioned, continuing to gasp for air as she headed down the road. The streets seemed so familiar. Eerily so. And as she took in the scene, she saw a woman standing just down the road. Behind her stood a maliciously smiling figure. Canines, elongated and painfully sharp, shined. Faster than her eyes could follow, the figure hoisted the woman over his shoulder and disappeared.

She turned, eyes catching sight of another figure, and had the fleeting thought that he might be the same as the last figure. But, something about his presence made her feel ill, and as a lurid light coursed through his eyes, she cried.

The figure extended a slim hand, as if trying to gain her confidence.

She reached back, almost calmed by his actions, before she spied the figure lurking at his back. She screamed one letter. One name. She screamed ‘D’.

A sword tip exited his chest and blood erupted from his mouth, painted her crimson.

She could only watch in horror as the blade was twisted free, the figure leaning in close to the collapsing man. No words he spoke were clear to her and a pair of hands hoisted her over a lean shoulder. “Say good riddance to your Dhampir,” he breathed.

It was only then that she began to struggle and laughter filled the night air.

“I would stop struggling. It’s no use. You are-”

October 29, 13,012

Krista flailed wildly in the blanket and cloak surrounding her, panic stricken and gasping for air. The world around her slowly came into focus. “Oh, thank God, it was just a dream,” she breathed, detangling herself from the duvet of doom. ‘But what is a diaper? No. A dam… Dammmmpur? And that was D? Is D a Diaper?’

‘Well, you did call the man ‘D’. I should think so. But better yet! Did you see the way the blood burst from his chest?! It was like a blooming flower!’

An involuntary shudder ran through Krista at the thought of a skewered D. ‘You’re being a pain. I’d rather not think about it.’ She looked about the dark room, secretly relieved to see D residing in the chair, his damp hair shielding his face, steam leaking from the bathroom.

Although his head remained down, D watched Krista continue her fight for freedom, kicking and biting. He merely clenched his fist as the creature giggled to itself.

“Hmm, I wonder what she dreamt about. Maybe you? She seems pretty upset about it.”

She did, hands shaking as she pulled back the curtain to observe the town still cloaked in night. With a quiet sigh, she dropped the fabric and skittered towards D. She leaned forward until her forehead touched the edge of D’s broad hat, irises shining in the nonexistent light as she stared at him.

Onyx eyes snapped up to stare her down and she stumbled backwards, laughing nervously. “Sorry, I popped your personal bubble.” At the quiet statement, she plucked invisible pieces from the air and floor, pretending to patch his ‘bubble’. “There!” she exclaimed.

There was a long silence as she pulled on her boots. “What is it?”

“Well, I wanted to know why I was on the bed. I know I fell asleep right there.”

“Your wounds need to heal properly,” D replied coolly, rising from the chair and towering over her.

Despite the sight and tone of his voice raising the fine hairs on her body, she glared up at him. “And I said I was fine, but… you’re right.” She sighed, looking down. “You’ve been right. I apologize.”

At his light nod, she lifted her club from the dresser and latched it to her belt. “When do we leave?” In answer he settled his sword upon his back and hefted the saddle onto his shoulder. “I will… I will fetch your horse.”

Little more than a dark, petite blur as she passed, Krista no less than sprinted down to the stables to retrieve the impressive beast. Halfway there and he watched as it came charging out, the girl clinging to the reins as she struggled to keep up. She ultimately failed and slid across the ground until the horse stopped by D’s side to be saddled.

She’d have been content to lie there a moment longer had the horse not stomped a hoof next to her face. “I get it; we need to go.” Without much thought, she grasped D’s waiting hand and mounted before him, careful not to disengage him from the saddle with a swift kick to the head.

Wouldn’t want him matching her in the bruises department.

Several minutes passed as the horse galloped across the land. It was almost shocking how suddenly the green of the trees and lush grass deteriorated into a mottled brown, leaving before them an expanse of sand she could see no end to. It seemed to fit the term ‘barren wasteland’ and it showed just how drastically the weather controllers could affect the land.

A light tap to her bandaged side startled her out of her thoughts and she tipped her head back hurriedly. “Yeah?”

“What is that wound from?” D enquired.

Pale cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she smiled sheepishly. “When I was a fair distance from Puregon, I ran across this massive creature! It decided I was gonna be lunch, I guess. I don’t really know how I got away, but I’m gonna assume it choked on my cloak and bag. But when it had me in the air, my belly was exposed.” She jabbed at the air with a closed fist. “And he got me.”

With a light slap to her side, she looked to the passing ground and laughed. “This is what happens when you can’t take care of yourself. This is what happens when the town you live in refuses to find a solution to a big problem.”

“People began disappearing over night?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you aware of any Nobles in the vicinity of the town?”

Krista blindly watched the horse’s hooves kick up sand, searching the depths of her mind. “Well, I guess you could call Mister Alistair and Missus Carnegie nobles? They were never lacking in money, though why they would want to settle in a place like that…” She shrugged. “But I don’t see what rich people have to do with kidnappings.”

The horse whinnied and bucked in protest as D tightened his grip on the reins and jerked. Krista flipped over the protesting animal’s head, face breaking her fall first. There was a ringing in her ears as she pulled her head from the sand, and it was almost maddening.

“This is not a joking matter,” the countenanced carbuncle growled. “You know damn well that isn’t what was meant by ‘Noble’.”

“What is there to joke about?” she moaned, clutching at her head. “You asked, I bloody answered! What did you mean if not that?!”

“A Noble is a Vampire,” D stated as she lifted her torso from the ground.

“Well, what is that?”

D edged the horse forward, eyes narrowed as he stared her down. If she did not know of Vampires, then perhaps that was the reason behind her strange answers. And perhaps by ‘you people’, she’d merely meant people hired to hunt her down.

“Vampires, self-proclaimed as Nobles, are creatures of the Night that feed off the blood of Humans,” he finally replied, tone severe.

“They feed off… blood? Really?” She eyed him suspiciously, rubbing her ears as if that would alleviate her problems. “That’s weird. But hey, if they like to live in manors just outside of town, I suppose Puregon is a good place to look. I mean… there’s only one, but people have avoided it for as long as I can remember.”

A long moment drug by before Krista worked up the courage to meekly ask, “Am I allowed back up?” She gingerly settled into her spot at his slight shift, finding her mind drifting over the information. One would think the existence of these ‘creatures of the Night’ would have been mentioned at some point. But nothing came to mind.

‘I bet they were keeping us in the dark. If his reaction is anything to go by.’

‘But why would they do that?’

Krista could almost feel the voice shrug. ‘Shit if I know.’

For a moment, she felt truly angry at the man. Just as quickly, it was gone. She’d been rather irritable lately, especially since leaving the orphanage. Especially since meeting the man. ‘Is that you making me so upset all the time?’

‘Eh, probably. You do seem to get bitchy when I get suspicious or agitated at the behemoth behind us.’

‘Well, stop! He isn’t doing anything wrong. He’s helped us so much! What’s there to be suspicious of?!’ The voice did not answer, and she had to wonder if the voice had been a figment of her imagination.

‘I’m not your imagination.’

She scoffed openly, unaware of the man’s speculative and sharp gaze. ‘Then what is your name? And where did you come from?’

‘You know, I don’t remember. But I do know that I have always been with you.’

“Huh.” She frowned, blinking slowly.

D had noticed her gaze grow distant, eyes glazed, and whether she realized it, she’d murmured quietly each reply to the voice in her mind. He made sure to commit the sight to memory. And with a gradual tilt of her head, she focused on him.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I know I said it before, but… I don’t wanna be so ugly to you. I don’t mean to be.”

“I’m accustomed to it,” he replied.

“That doesn’t make it better!” she retorted. “It doesn’t give me a reason to accuse you of stuff or be suspicious of your motives. Just know that I am sorry for everything I have done and will no doubt do. And thank you for helping me.”

He gave a delayed nod, and that is when Krista started to wonder if something was wrong. For the next few hours she was silent, normally oblivious to things around her but also realizing something was off as the sun climbed higher into the sky. Despite the space between them, dare she say he felt rather warm against her back? Perhaps it was just the sun.

They stopped off in the next town to let the horse drink and rest for a bit at the trough.

Or, so she told herself.

The Hunter drifted in the opposite direction of the girl towards shade. Once enough distance was between the two, the creature in his hand snarled. “God dammit!”

A few people turned in search of the outburst but did not assume the man.

“I warned you!” it growled quieter, air hissing between clenched teeth. “And yet, here we are!”

“We will stop in the next town,” he answered calmly. A slight chill ran down his spine.

“If you make it that far.”

A long moment passed before the creature sighed. “Well, don’t you think it’s a bit odd she doesn’t know about Nobles?” A quiet affirmation in answer, it continued. “It explains a lot. Her answers, her memories. Which brings up the big question right now: why did you stop for her?”

The Hunter answered the same. “Curious.”

“You said that! There’s gotta be something more! But I guess I’ll have to wait for the juicy details another day.”

Krista slowly approached. She fingered a loose string on her shirt and chuckled. “I think your horse is done.”

Indeed, it seemed so.

The beast stood tall, giving an impossibly indignant look for a horse as it strained the reins still tied to a post. He gently stroked its muzzle once at its side. This horse had come far with him, perhaps farther than most.

“Are you feeling okay?”

D nodded, slowly blinking as he turned his gaze upon the girl and her skeptical look.

“You sure?” He merely nodded again. She wasn’t convinced. While she couldn’t be certain, she was almost sure something was off. His aura? Yes, perhaps that is what was alerting her because he looked… normal? Pale. But, was he really any paler? No, definitely his aura as it shuddered like disturbed smoke hanging in a tavern. Because, surely this man was not smoking.

---

The sun, high in the sky, scorched her skin and left her a sweaty mess. Had it been this hot when she came through? Or was it the lack of wind? She had to wonder how D could stand it.

Truth be told, he was fairing worse than her. A cold chill engulfed him, and yet, his exposed skin felt aflame. If he could hold out, they would be at the next town within a half-hour. Sooner, really. He’d lasted this long, surely he could last that much longer.

His strength waned, posture faltered, breath labored.

Just a bit longer. The town was in sight.

Much the same as a bad dream, his vision swam, eyes jerking and unable to focus on the surroundings. Or perhaps it was more like a vague dream, where the scenes glitch and glide around oneself. An unclear story not meant to be grasped.

“D, your hands are smoking!”

So they were.

Shaking hands pressed the reins into her grasp before biting painfully into the flesh of her shoulders. This girl, she was small beneath his hands. Almost painfully small. Standing, she barely passed mid-chest. It was a wonder he did not drag her from the saddle as consciousness slipped from his grasp.

Krista pulled on the reins, staring dumbly at the Hunter sprawled ungracefully on the ground. Did the intimidating man really just… flake out on her? Without sparing another moment she slid from the saddle and stumbled towards his prone figure, scooping up his fallen hat on her way. Trembling fingers gripped the armor stretched across his chest.

She shook him.

“Wake up! I’m not a doctor! I can’t fix you like you fixed me! Oh! Maybe you got too hot.” She frantically flapped the hat in his face. “Or maybe he needs some water?” A deep breath filled her lungs as she prepared screech at the heavens, but a hoarse voice stayed her.

“Both of those are good starts, but I have a suggestion,” the creature chirped. “You could find a shady spot and plant him for a bit.”

The left hand rose to eyelevel, small eyes narrowed in mirth and agitation at her. She pointed a finger at the wrinkled face with a twitch of her eye. “I wondered why D sounded like he had something stuck in his throat, but… this is strange.”

So perhaps she had known to a degree.

“Got a problem though, hand thingy,” she muttered. “Do I plant him under the shade of the barrel cactus or the shade of the whipping cactus?”

The countenanced carbuncle sighed after a quick look about. “The next best thing is somewhere dark and cool. Get him back on that horse and pray the clinic has a basement. A morgue will do, too.”

She shuddered as she struggled to lift the Hunter, extremely grateful the horse sensed her frustration and settled on the ground before her. “Let’s really hope for the first one. I would rather not sleep among the dead.”

Once they were settled on the horse, the large beast lurched upwards and bolted towards the town. They’d been about two miles out of town when D collapsed and the gate set in the weathered wall was opening by the time they arrived.

If she focused she could spy the female guard wearing binoculars ordering the gate to be closed behind them. But she barely noticed, too preoccupied with the scene unfolding before her. People in the streets scattered as the horse charged through with panicked screams and cursing. It was chaotic at best.

One lone nurse stood before the hospital, watching the horse create an uproar, and Krista had to wonder how the beast knew where to go. Thankfully, it gradually slowed to a stop, nickering and stomping at the startled nurse.

The woman peeked around the horse, eyeing the flushed girl and smoking man laid over the saddle. Her round eyes narrowed. “Can I help you?”

“Will you help him? I’m told he would be better in a dark, cool place, like a basement.”

“Miss, is your friend Human?”

“Does it matter?! He’s my friend and I prefer him alive,” Krista snapped, glaring at the woman. “Please help him.”

The woman seemed to deliberate a moment longer before letting loose a piercing whistle, alerting two male nurses to bring a gurney. “We will take him down below. Just follow the signs.”

She sped through stabling the horse, despite its reluctance, and struggled to lug the saddle and bags back to the clinic. How could that man carry it all around like it was nothing?! Maybe she was just weak.

The signs pointing the way clearly stated ‘morgue’, but she was relieved to see the nurse outside a room marked for autopsy. The rooms were considerably cooler and painfully dark with the lights off, leaving her chilled as she passed the nurse. Or perhaps, it was the nurse that left her chilled?

Krista turned on her heel after depositing the equipment, taken aback by the look of utter disgust on the woman’s face, her nose wrinkled and eyes narrowed. “Thank you,” she murmured to the nurse, eyes wide.

Lips pressed together in a firm line, she tipped her head at the cabinets along the wall. “Rags are under the sink. My name is Anna if you need anything.” She made it a point to look anywhere but at them, leaving before Krista could ask anything of her. Only once she was far enough away did she hiss out, “Damn abomination and his whore, tainting this place.”

“I wonder why I feel like her name isn’t really ‘Anna’.” Krista ran a damp cloth across D’s forehead. At least he was no longer smoking. “Hey, hand thingy? What’s a ‘whore’?”

“Don’t worry about it, kid. It’s not important.” The hand twisted over to see her, chuckling at her childish pout. “Hand thingy, though? Maybe you can shorten that?”

She was dejected, but managed a smile at the creature. “Hand?”

“Sure, kid.”

Upon a rolling chair she scooted closer, fingering the cloth of the man’s coat as she studied them. “Is he gonna be okay?”

“Sure. Just a little heat exhaustion. He’s been through much worse.”

She flinched, almost able to feel warm blood splatter against her face.

It did not escape Hand’s notice. “What was that about? Does it have to do with your dream last night?”

Eyes vacant she stammered out, “Gods, I… it was a very vivid dream. Not very clear sometimes, but it felt real. I mean, what’s a diaper? No, Dham… Dhampir?”

“Tell me your dream.”

So she did, fingers worrying the fabric of the coat as she relayed the dream with as much detail as she could manage. Her skin prickled, thoroughly spooked by the idea that the dream could be more than just a dream.

This man, despite how little she knew him and how suspicious she was of him originally, was not someone she wanted to lose. And part of her could trust him with her life. A man who appeared no more than twenty years old surrounded in a ghastly aura that no longer put her on edge. A man who’d almost killed her upon their first meeting.

That man, so stoic.

And yet…

Her brain hurt.

She leaned her head against the cool metal of D’s table, eyes closed as she prayed nothing came of the dream. She wouldn’t wonder if he would die, but she could hope not.

A burning sensation crept along her spine.

A quick glance up and she lurched back in surprise, flailing as her chair tipped and dumped her on the floor with a loud clatter. Her heart sputtered. She struggled to focus on D’s figure, now knowing the previously gleaming eyes were not a threat. “Bloody hell. Are you feeling better?” she asked, scrambling to her feet.

Nodding, D pushed himself up on a shaking arm. This was no ‘dirt nap’, but it worked. He eyed the reddened skin of his hand.

“If you’re wondering, Hand told me what to do.” She pulled the chair back up, brow furrowed as she passed him the cool cloth. “If you weren’t feeling good at the last town, you should have said so.”

He did not respond as he tugged his sword free and cradled it in his arms. The nurses had not bothered to remove it and it was painfully uncomfortable to lay upon. “Sleep,” he eventually breathed.

“Aye!” With a half-hearted salute, she collapsed in the chair and wrapped herself in the cloak. Slowly, one finger inched out of the dark cloth to point warningly at him. “You better stay there. This is not something I want to repeat.”

In answer he stretched out on the table. He wouldn’t fight the girl this round, even if he had the energy. Instead, he listened for the slowing of her breath and the steadying of her heart. It came.

“D, we need to talk,” Hand murmured.

And just as quickly, her signs of sleep fled.

He cast her a sidelong glance.

It could have been a trick of the lighting.

Electric blue eyes stared back, narrowing in agitation before she released a puff of air. “Well, don’t let me interrupt you…” The startlingly blue eyes lost their color and closed. A quiet snore filled the air.

This time she was certainly asleep.

“That was odd…” The hand twisted around to face him. “It could be nothing, but I wanna talk about the kid’s dream.”

October 30, 13,012

In the soft hues of twilight they left, never once approached by the clinic’s staff. And despite the stable hand’s best efforts, the gargantuan horse was forcing its way through the doors to meet them. As they passed through the northern gate, Krista had to wonder why the guards seemed so tense, knuckles white as they clutched their weapons.

They did not seem so on edge the day prior.

And so they traveled, carving a path through the sand as they followed the markers stretching out onto the horizon.

The horizon.

Dawn had long since passed when Krista turned to the Hunter. “How do you know we’re going the right way?” He did not answer. “Do you know if we are?!”

“Asks the girl who came this way before,” he murmured.

Nose wrinkled, eyes narrowed, and upper lip drawn back, Krista threw her head back against his chest with an obnoxious groan, the noise more befitting of a dying animal. “You’re killin’ me.”

Acidic green eyes stared past him after a moment, slowly widening in shock. “You know what? I don’t care so much about direction. I wanna know what’s wrong with that cloud.”

A cloud, small and unassuming, hovered in the clear sky.

“It’s… just being a cloud, kid.”

It suddenly swirled and swelled, shining garishly as it encompassed the sun.

“No, no… I don’t think that is a normal cloud activity.” As if to spite her, it released a torrent of rain right over the travelers. “And if clouds could, I’d swear this one is peeing on us.”

It rained harder.

Just over them.

“Okay!” she yelled. “I get it!” The rain suddenly stopped, and she had to wonder if the cloud was alive in some way as the fine hairs on her body raised.

Its ethereal glow intensified, great arcs of electricity leaping from within its folds to strike the land. Another gush of water. Despite the freakish weather, D seemed unbothered and merely navigated the horse around the quickly forming pools of quicksand and glass. It would not surprise him if the cloud was sentient, nor would it surprise him if it was all coincidence, the result of a weather controller malfunctioning.

Lightning danced just above the ground when they came upon the next town around Noon, and just as quickly as the storm formed, it was gone with a rolling explosion. In fact, Krista would swear the ball of fluff looked smug as it zipped over the town.

This town, much like Puregon and many other towns residing in the desert, was surrounded by a high wall. She had to wonder why, but at the same time she was not overly concerned. Marauders? Were the storms a larger threat than she was aware of?

‘Maybe to keep people like us out.’

“Pfft, probably,” she muttered aloud.

With the gates falling behind them, they meandered down to the tavern. The beast seemed more than pleased with the small break at the stables, face buried in the closest hay bale. Inside the tavern, smoke swirled in the wake of the women scampering about.

In little more than undergarments, Krista had to wonder, “Why are they dressed like that?” She was led to a more secluded corner.

“It’s likely this place also serves as a cathouse,” D replied. As if on cue, one of the women led a man towards the rooms at the back.

“A cathouse?” Krista leaned forward to glance around the Hunter, eyes wide in wonder. “Are they going back there to pet cats? Can we go pet cats, D?!” This time, she tipped towards D, lips pulled back over her teeth in an excited smile.

The creature residing in his hand emitted a strangled, choking sound before sputtering, “Are you serious?!” The hand flailed. “You can’t wave this off, D! We need to get this kid outta here!”

A girl sashayed up to the table, eyes hooded as she stretched over the worn wood. “Is there anything I can get you two?” She smiled sweetly and slowly fluttered her eyelashes.

“Water.”

“Can we go pet cats?!”

“They don’t pet cats here,” interrupted D.

“Well, sure we do, honey. For the right price, of course,” the woman replied.

“No, you do not,” he stated, sending her a dark look.

“Go get the waters!” Hand suddenly growled, exasperated.

With a pout the woman sauntered off to retrieve their glasses. And Krista stared at D. “Why call it a cathouse if they don’t do things with cats?”

They did, just not the things she was expecting.

Water in hand, Krista turned her attention to the room, once more. She eyed the people flocking to the back and the patrons drinking themselves silly. The occasional male was even spied whisking people to the back. “If they are petting cats, they even got guys doing it…” she grumbled with a long sigh.

“There are no animals here!”

“But, Hand!” She flung her hands above her head and flapped them in a vague gesture at the room. “Why call it a cat house?”

“If I call it a brothel, will that make you understand?”

A blank look. After a long moment of silence, she stood and headed for the door.

“Where’re you going, kid?” Hand called as D left enough to cover their drinks and stood to follow.

Without looking back, Krista pushed through the door and into the scorching sun. “I’m going to find a dictionary.”

D gently grasped her shoulder. “It’s not important.”

“Y’all talk as if I should know this stuff.”

At the soft shake of his head, she allowed him to guide her to the steed no longer lost in its meal. There again, things kept from her.

A quick glance at the sky. The Hunter lifted a collapsed facemask from the saddle, popping it open to slip over the horse’s face. Despite the contraption effectively covering the entirety of its head, the horse seemed at ease. Its ears flickered, cover following the movement.

“What’s that for, D?” Krista mounted as D finished securing the object.

“There’s a sandstorm brewing,” he answered simply. Once settled behind the girl, he tugged up his scarf.

Outside the town gates they were blasted by wind. Sand hung thick in the air. With only her hooded cloak, Krista ducked down and pulled it closed. Part of her wondered how the Hunter could see with the sand in his eyes, but figured if he was willing to press on, she had no need to worry.

---

The sun was long settled beyond the horizon by the time they stopped, horse resting contently by the pool of water in the pitifully miniscule oasis. Just big enough to house a handful of reptiles and small mammals. It was peaceful.

Peaceful until a loud rumble broke the quiet.

“I’m hungry!” Krista suddenly exclaimed, creeping over to the saddlebags with a sheepish smile.

The Hunter observed as she pulled a handful of crackers from the tin and an apple from the bag, consuming the food with a ferocity one might expect of a starving dog. For a moment, she felt like one. It was a hunger so sudden and fierce it felt as if her stomach was attempting to devour itself. But he watched as she quickly slowed, nibbling at the half-eaten apple.

“Well, that was good. Can the horse have the rest?”

He gave a soft nod and watched as she tossed the remainder to the beast. Not concerned, per se, but… he found it odd that she did eat so little. It’d been three days and this was all she could be bothered to consume. It was no wonder she appeared a tad emaciated.

“D, have you eaten?”

“No,” he responded simply.

“Shouldn’t you?”

“You should be eating more.”

Krista pouted like a chastised child. “I told you. I lost my appetite.”

“Specifically,” he started, leaning against the trunk of a tree, “you stated you’ve stopped eating. Is there a reason why?”

“I don’t see how it matters. Besides, I don’t really know why.”

“When did you leave?”

She put a crooked finger to her lips in thought. “I don’t even remember today’s date, but I’m going to guess that it’s been a few weeks. Got turned around a couple of times. My side got infected. Days seemed to run together for a bit after that.”

A soft shrug. “Doesn’t matter. All that matters is that I found you. That is the real mystery. How did I manage to get hunted by the person I needed?”

D watched as she curled into her cloak with a mumbled ‘goodnight’, a small smile lifting her lips. At least a few weeks, huh? Did she not understand just how many could disappear in that amount of time?

October 31, 13,012

Quiet splashing roused her from slumber.

“Deciding to be a tad more Human, are we?”

More splashing. If she had to guess, she figured he was probably dunking his left hand more than his right.

She snapped up, shaking the sand from her cloak as she lurched towards the water and dunked her head in. Despite the distortion from the water, she could clearly hear ‘happy birthday’ from her two companions. And she was shocked. Was that really today? Had she really lost track of that much time?

Why did he even bother with remembering?

A loud gasp fled her lips as she pulled back. Water poured down her face. She could lie to herself and say that it was all water, but her quivering lips were proof enough to the sharp Hunter as she choked out, “Thank y’all.” She fled the water’s edge.

“Why are you bloody crying?!” she blurted out, but the voice was not her own. It felt strange and strained, but she couldn’t be bothered to care in that moment.

In a childish show of joy, she quietly squealed and danced in place, leg aching with the jarring movements. She didn’t care. “He didn’t need to remember, but he’s one of the few who bothered…” Her excitement wore off. “I got way too excited, huh.”

The voice was silent, almost as if to say it was obvious she did. But for a moment, she felt she could fly if she really wanted.

And then she came to a startling realization. “I’ve been gone for over a month. Dammit!”

---

In the sea of sand, a great opening stretched before them. It was round and smooth, and likely it could swallow a large house. The Hunter eyed the hole, guiding the horse around the edge with a soft click of his tongue. More dotted the land, but these were of no concern.

His focus was on the happenings below the ground.

“You know what this means, D,” stated Hand.

Indeed, he did. “Hongares, but they are far from their lands.” But why were they so far from home?

The ground bulged beneath them.

With a none-too-pleased snort, the horse trotted back. Just in time, too. The ground continued to swell, sand churning and pitching. A loud pop reminiscent of a discharging firearm and noxious fumes spewed from the opening.

A doglike head appeared, peering over the edge of the fresh opening. Long ears flattened against its skull before it released a bloodcurdling screech and dipped back out of view. Another noise soon filled the sudden quiet. It was a noise that spread chills along the listener’s skin; deep, haunting, shaking the very earth with its intensity.

Krista whimpered and clutched at his arm. “That was half the size of the one that tried to eat me.”

“Then the one that tried to eat you was only a few months old,” Hand muttered.

D snapped the reins as the girl gasped weakly, face draining of color as she looked behind them at the bubbling ground. Like waves at the coming of high tide, the ground rolled forward, golden fur glistening in the sun as the behemoths surged from the ground.

They circled, shaking the earth with their long strides, paws large enough to easily crush the horse and its riders. Eyes black as pitch narrowed at them, lips drawn back across jagged teeth more than capable of shredding through their bones. Five tails writhed at their backs. Fur bristled in agitation.

“I’d rather not be this thing’s new chew toy,” muttered Hand.

Krista agreed. “Yeah, I don’t wanna be a tasty morsel today.”

She screamed, panicked as the horse abruptly lurched off to one side and danced just out of range of gnashing teeth, in fear of being thrown from the saddle as it bolted. All around them the ground churned and heaved, gasses bursting from the ground and closely followed by the Hongares.

A quiet ringing.

A flash of silver.

The Hunter at her back shuddered and she cast her eyes up, jaw dropping in awe. A sharp, bonelike protrusion, stayed by the blade poised above their heads, pressed down against him. She knew just how easily the rigid spines could shred through flesh, side aching fiercely at the memory. And yet, he slowly extended his arm as though it were a mere nuisance, pushing it back.

Had she not thought so about that dark man before, she was certain in that moment that he was not someone to be trifled with.

A sound that reminded her strongly of tearing through the skin of chicken filled the air. To be honest, it sounded disgusting.

And surely, if she were traveling back home alone, she would be dead. In a move faster than she could follow, he extended his opposite arm, dagger in hand, and halted the advance of another protrusion. Had he been slower to the draw, that sharp spine would have impaled her from her left shoulder to her right hip.

Why wasn’t the horse still running?

Her eyes swiveled down. Iron shod hooves tore through the sand at an almost lazy pace but with enough power to throw sand into the air. It was still running.

'Just imagine. If adrenaline is making the horse seem slow, how fast do you think he is moving?’

Was this man even Human? Because, despite the great feats of strength and speed she’d seen over the past decade, he far outshined everything. She shivered.

‘Ah, you can feel it now more than ever, can’t you? This man is on a whole ‘nother level. I don’t think he is even moving as fast as he can. I bet we haven’t even seen the beginning of what he is capable of.’

Another pathetic whimper left her teeth-worried lips as she closed her eyes. However, she couldn’t say that she was afraid of the man deftly deflecting dexterous spines. No, if anything, it was the voice calmly pointing these small things out, making her realize that…

This world was probably not as simple as she thought.

Hot, dry wind slapped against their faces as a shriek left the Hongare scampering away from them, blood gushing from the spines. The horse continued to dance around death, taking them just out of range of nipping teeth and shifting spines. Of tearing talons and thrashing tails.

The world fell quiet.

They rode for a moment more, giving the Hunter time to sheathe his blades before they turned to observe. Like leash-bound guard dogs they pawed at the earth and let out shrill yips, crowded together but advancing no further.

“What are they doing, D?”

“We exited their territory,” he replied, slowly prying her fingers loose from his arm, though she didn’t seem to realize she’d grabbed hold in the first place. “Seems someone desired glorified watchdogs.”

“But we’re so far from town! What’s the point of having those things if they eat first and watch later?!”

“I’m not sure.”

A gurgling noise.

The group cast their gaze to the Hongares, watching as the largest of them hunched, skin rippling and jerking. Another gurgle left it, sizzling spit dripping from its gradually unhinging jaw.

D softly nudged the horse back.

With a sound akin to pulling one’s foot from deep mud, the Hongare vomited a wad of acid that splattered against the sand where they previously resided.

“Egh! That’s disgusting!”

The rest of the ‘pack’ soon followed the ‘alpha’s’ example. The collective sound of the heaving creatures was enough to upset some of the strongest of stomachs. The man in black was unsurprisingly unfazed, guiding the horse northward as acid splattered about behind them, sand sinking and melting.

“I can’t believe that they travel in packs. I guess I was fortunate, only running into one. A baby, no less!” Krista exclaimed, lips curling in a wide smile. “And you! That was amazing! I’ve never seen someone move so fast! And you’re so strong!”

She continued to gush even as the Hunter turned his thoughts elsewhere. It really was queer the creatures were this far north. Most tended to stay along the equator where it was warm through the year. They were definitely being used as watchdogs. It did not make sense that they were attacking willy-nilly, though.

“Something must have stirred them up or spooked them,” Hand muttered.

He could only agree as he watched Krista flip head first out of the saddle and into the sand.

Chapter Text

October 31, 13,012 (Evening)

Darkness descended upon the travelers as they came upon a walled city, fading light from the sun not enough to bring life back to the abandoned gate that stood gaping. No guards. No flickering lamps.

Nothing.

Dread settled in the pit of Krista’s stomach as she walked alongside the horse, the Hunter a few steps ahead of her. Someone was always manning the gates.

A small voice begged to run. Another growled to tough it out.

‘You should ask him.’

It was such poor timing. She’d had all this time to ask since their short stay at the hospital, and yet… it was almost an urgent terror that had her vomiting out the question before she could think otherwise. “D, what is a Dhampir?”

He faltered midstride.

“I just… I tried to ask Hand, but…”

Onyx eyes flared an unnatural color in the dim light, swiveling to observe the fidgeting girl as she toed the ground. A part of him wondered why she would ask. She barely grasped the concept of Nobles, so how could she know what a Dhampir was? But a quick look into his memory provided him with an eerie reminder that the girl had heard it in a dream. “A Dhampir is the result of a Human and Noble procreating; a half-breed.”

He watched as she pulled at her hair with one hand while she scratched at her upper arm with the other, face scrunching up in disgust as she worried her lower lip. “So… are you a Dhampir?”

His case of ‘heat exhaustion’ was proof enough, one would think, even if she glossed over his appearance and reputation. “I am,” he answered succinctly.

Face contorting to the point of strained, she fought the urge to attack the foreboding wall. All that time spent living within its bloody embrace and not one person mentioned Nobles. Not one person breathed a word about people roaming this earth being anything other than Human.

“They were keeping us in the dark.” She snapped her eyes shut. There had to be a reason. There had to be!

A quiet clacking against the cobblestone road just inside the gate drew her attention. The Hunter was leaving her behind. For the moment, she would forget her anger and confusion, looking only towards the end of this journey. Strange how she felt this would only be the beginning, but if after tonight she stayed in the town, she felt a little discussion was in order with the orphanage director. The mayor. Anyone she could get her hands on.

She sighed loudly as she caught up to D. “Well, I was hoping for the best when I came across you, but I didn’t figure I’d been gone for over a month. I should have been faster.”

“It isn’t your fault.”

Eyes wide, brows slowly climbing towards her hairline, Krista focused the near-scathing look at D. “I left here, partly out of fear, just hoping I could find someone to deal with this. I heard rumors of a mercenary for hire and ran for them. Are you well known, D? Because part of me is either stupidly lucky or painfully unlucky. I didn’t even know the name of the person I was looking for! I just happened to get on someone’s shit list and eventually had the type of person I was looking for come after me!”

The Hunter continued further into town as Hand quietly commented on her pity party.

“I think I can have a pity party,” she grumbled back. “I can’t help but feel at fault for how empty this place feels.”

He had to admit, the town was exceedingly hollow-feeling. The size of Puregon would have him believe that, at one point, it was home to over eight thousand people. Now, there was no telling. It was rather outlandish to suggest that a single Noble would devour half that number alone in just over a month.

There had to be several.

Unless they were not hunting for sustenance.

“Tell me about the estate on the hill.”

“Hmm? Oh.” She eyed the structure for a moment before shrugging. “Not much to say, really. I already said all I knew. We could ask Miss Haldwyn. She was… much more tolerant of my existence. Really kind, too. Just all around nice.”

For a moment longer, they observed the estate. Although she could not, he could see the flicker of a flame through a window. Most likely a fireplace was the source.

“Y’know, I am gonna go see if Miss Haldwyn can talk for a minute. She’s about a block away.”

Down the road he heard her scamper, riding boots scattering stray rocks as she went. For a moment, he simply took in the surroundings and left the horse at a nearby trough with a reassuring pat, following at a pace that bordered on leisurely. The scorching sensation of eyes, hungry and agitated, followed their short walk.

To the trained eye, there was nothing casual about his stance, shoulders tense and posture rigid. Steps calculated.

Truthfully, Krista was painfully unaware. Yes, the lack of activity in the town agitated the fine hairs on the nape of her neck and made her scalp crawl, but she could not sense the growing danger as her knuckles rapped on the weatherworn door.

The door swung inward with a loud screech at her short, yet urgent, knocking. “Well,” she muttered, hand falling limply to her side. “Her door’s always been loud, but never just…” The crimson haired girl trailed off, hand clamping down over her mouth and nose as the almost-rancid air assaulted her.

Thick and choking, sticky and disgusting.

If she hadn’t found her feet frozen in their place, she might have scrambled back and emptied her stomach. She couldn’t even find it in her to skitter to the Hunter’s side at his beckoning, heart fluttering in a panicked rhythm that provided no life to her limbs.

“While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping.”

Despite her terror, Krista caught the object that flew through the door with a grunt. It was heavy. As though someone had thrown a sack of flour at her. Or a large baby. ‘But…’

“As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.”

Trembling digits clutched at damp hair and pliant flesh. She wouldn’t look.

“If I had known I would be having company, I might’ve cleaned up.”

She couldn’t look.

“You seem to be enjoying your reunion, though.”

A choked sob escaped her. Like a child seeking comfort from a stuffed toy, she cradled the object closer to her chest, praying that she’d fallen asleep on the horse and this was a bad dream.

‘You need to move.’

Krista jerked at the command, lurching backwards towards the stairs.

“Don’t run, girl. My companions might pounce at the very sight of you!”

She could hear it now. The distinct clang of weapons clashing. The sharp noise pierced her eardrums and disrupted the night air, chilled and heavy. Her back pressed into railing around the porch despite the warning.

“Riedikke,” the voice called. In response, a chilled hand pressed into her shoulder. “Take the poor teacher and make her comfortable, would you?”

“Of course,” replied Riedikke, leaning into Krista’s view to snag the severed head. “Hey, Teach! You have a nice chat? Oh. She wouldn’t look at you, huh?” The man dressed as a simple farmer clucked his tongue, running a pale hand through the bloodied locks of once-blonde hair.

Under different circumstances, one might call his downcast look fond. A small quirk of the lips and lidded eyes. Truly, a vision of contentedness. He strode a few paces forward, head rolling back to cast her the same gaze. “I know you don’t remember your past, but you would think you’d have better manners than this. At least greet her!”

He leveled the jawless head with her gaze and reveled in her horrified screech, his pale fingers curling into the empty eye sockets. A rough shudder and delightful chill ran down his spine. Oh, how he’d missed hearing this girl shriek. Now that she was back-

“Riedikke, please.”

“’Riedikke, please’,” he mocked quietly, lips turning down in displeasure. With a sigh, he weakly tossed the head towards the street and twisted the girl about. “Just get over there!” He wasn’t necessarily content with the situation, but he would find what pleasure he could for the moment. A rough shove towards the man in the house and he turned on his heel.

Even paler arms wrapped her in a possessive embrace, fingers splayed across her armored chest and belly. The man nuzzled her neck with a soft sniff. “The teacher tasted fairly decent, but I bet you would taste heavenly. Such a sweet scent.”

Krista lurched and writhed in terror, glancing up at the sandy-haired man. “T-taste?!”

The one identified as Riedikke seemed disinterested with the current happenings aside from his quiet chuckling at her exclamation, back turned on the two as he watched the man in black cleave his way through the multitude of foes. There was a lull in activity, however, at her panicked noises.

“Release the girl,” the Hunter commanded, gleaming blade finding home in the bosom of a woman long dead. Corpses littered the ground around them. None were Nobles, nor were they Humans. Empty husks guided by a puppeteer.

At the very least, there were few left.

“You heard the man! Let me go!”

The ashen man laughed loudly, squeezing Krista a bit harder. “The two of you are in no position to be demanding anything!”

A battle worthy screech erupted from the slim girl as she fisted the man’s clothes and pulled with all her might. Yes, she was at a disadvantage, hands not in prime locations for this maneuver, but she hoped and prayed she could roll him off her shoulder. Or, at least, that she could drop her shoulder into him as they both fell.

No.

No, it could never be that easy.

He was lifted, yes, but he pulled his knees in towards his chest and stretched her arms up into a painfully awkward position. From there, he drove the heel of one booted foot into the space betwixt her shoulder blades.

Was there really space there? She could almost swear her scapulae clacked together with the forceful wrenching of her arms. Despite the situation, however, she couldn’t help but focus on the most trivial of things.

Strange, that of all times, she would take this moment to note how unnaturally chilled this man was. Perched like a canary-fed cat upon her back. Fingers digging, bruising. But why? Why was his flesh so utterly devoid of warmth?

Unless he was…

Surely Nobles were not… dead, were they?

Even D was warm. Chilled, but still brimming with life.

‘He’s a half-breed, you twit. He’s not gonna be like them.’

Her knees buckled with the information, never mind the creature upon her back.

Dead.

Dead.

These people were dead? But not dead. Not alive.

‘Don’t panic now. I wanna hear what he’s sayin’.’

Her breath was coming in rapid, short gasps. When had she started that?

‘Listen!’ the voice screeched.

She did, struggling to calm her panting to appease the voice rattling her brain. Struggled to understand the bloody words coming out of the not-dead dead person.

“-fun with you first. Maybe tap you. After all, my only order is to catch you and keep you alive.” He chuckled, eyes narrowed in glee. “Loopholes are wonderful things.”

But all she could hear was ‘tap’.

What does he mean by ‘tap’? Would they stick a spigot in her? Is that how this works? Would they just… open it and collect her lifeblood like tree sap?

She wondered if they thought blood tasted like syrup.

Blood-soaked pancakes for dinner. Mmm…

“I think you’re sending our little kitten into a panic, Lord Laun,” Riedikke breathed, eyes gleaming with twisted pleasure. He sat upon the stairs, but was wholly invested in her current state.

Something about his current smile.

Krista choked back bile and groaned.

“Say, you mind sharing this time?”

The head of a man suddenly pegged Riedikke, his body snapping forward, face slapping into the boards of the porch.

Under different circumstances, Krista might have laughed herself into a fit. Never mind the bloodied-nose adding to the ferocity of his current snarl. Forgo the issue that she’d just witnessed a man be decapitated.

The mere fact that her companion had gracefully spun upon his heel and kicked a man’s head off his shoulders (likely detached beforehand) to strike another foe? Priceless.

“Tch, shame about Xander.” He didn’t seem too upset. “However, I don’t think the half-breed wants to share.”

It was not a matter of sharing.

A ghastly aura cloaked the area, smothering the emanations of the Nobles and stilling the movements of an enraged Riedikke. And slowly, oh so slowly, D advanced, crimson blade glistening in the weak light of the street lamp. In his gaze, each opponent could see the promise of death.

Yet, Riedikke was not deterred long. At D’s beckoning finger, he leapt off the porch, drawing a sickle from his hip. Previously dark eyes spilled blood light as he wiped his nose against the long sleeve of his dirty shirt. The sickle twirled in his grasp. “Cutting through your disgusting flesh should be easy as cutting through air.” Eyes manic and a too-wide grin contorting his face, the farmeresque Noble lunged. “And I’m going to enjoy every second of it!”

The shrill ring of weapons meeting.

‘This is our chance!’

Krista leaned back and shoved against the smooth porch boards (as much as one could without the use of their hands), gasping with excitement as the man named Laun tumbled off her back. Head cracking against the doorframe. With her arms free, she scurried forward like a frantic feline.

She did not get far.

“Now, don’t fret, girl,” Laun huffed as he tugged her back into his possessive hold. “If your fear is a lack pleasure, rest assured it will be unfounded. At least, as long as you obey.”

She couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but something… snapped. A hiccup in her thoughts, so to speak. But after a few harsh jerks, she stilled. An unnatural calm settled about her. Small, yet full lips curved in an almost sultry smile. Previously green eyes shined an unsettling, vibrant cornflower blue.

With a quiet sigh, she leaned into his hold and fingered the smooth baton at her side. “Is… that a promise?”

An almost silent click.

“One I am all too willing to keep,” he breathed, hands trailing up her belly.

A cool blade slipped through her loose grasp until it was free of its twin, and with practiced ease not normally possessed, she shimmied the hilt into her hand. “I look forward to it!” she suddenly guffawed, arm swinging back with enough force to run him through with the blade.

“Oh, dear. You think a stab to the stomach is going to bother me?”

For a moment, she panicked. Small hand trembling, grip tightening until her knuckles turned white. But that hiccup in her mind pushed and strained, urging her blade down.

Down.

Twist.

Down again.

She could barely hear the effeminate screams of Laun.

Couldn’t feel the resistance of bone or the off-colored blood splatter against her hand.

So focused on rending his flesh.

‘He’s trying to get away.’

A bloodthirsty grin lifted the corners of her lips. If he wanted away, then away he would go. Her teeth gleamed as she drove her heel into his knee.

The simultaneous snap of bone, crack of wood, and shuddering porch startled her from her ‘mission’. She whirled about, eyeing the man currently attempting to extricate himself from the splintered wood.

Riedikke.

She heaved.

What about this man made her physically sick?

In lieu of dwelling on the matter, she scampered down the janky stairs and to the man in black. Bodies littered the ground she passed. Riddled with wooden needles. Puncture wounds. Missing limbs.

And blood.

Gods, the blood smelled rank.

Dark, thick, and coagulated; it tainted the air and choked the weak.

Krista. She was weak. A distressed moan crawled up her throat as she clutched at the man’s coat and gasped for breath. Some faces she thought she could recognize. A sick curiosity egged her to have a closer look, but another quiet heave quickly quelled that thought.

“Leave.”

“… What?”

For a breath, he did not answer, deftly deflecting a sword turned javelin. The look he cast over his shoulder was nothing short of stern and cold. The small woman was a danger to the both of them, huddled by his side like a frightened child. It was better for her to run. “Find a place to hide.”

The air shifted.

Faster than she could follow, D speared a Noble Krista had not seen beforehand with a crude needle, the Vampire digging at his neck in a desperate attempt to remove it. But there was no need. A weight settled upon him, the terror buried in his mind clawing to the surface as he stared down at the sword pressing into the crest of his Adam’s apple. Just a little more force and… oh no…

The sword was gone.

He stumbled back, hand wrapping about his throat. But what was the point in delaying the inevitable? ‘We deserve this.’

Krista watched in mute horror as the Vampire forcefully detached his own head, body lurching about like a drunkard. Blood painted the heavens and street. All was still as the body collapsed in a fit.

A chilled hand fisted the material of her shirt and cloak just above her breasts as the body continued to twitch. For a moment, she hoped he was simply leading her somewhere. Anywhere. She was, quite frankly, terrified and wanted nothing more than to curl up in a warm bed and pretend this was a nightmare. But as the muscles in his arm swelled and he braced himself, she found herself attempting to escape the only person she trusted. “Wait! What are you thinking?!” she screeched.

The Hunter did not respond, hurling her small body towards the neighboring street. He pivoted before she could land. The sound of her collision was not a comforting one, nor was it worrying.

Laun and Riedikke were gone. Their auras were fading into naught towards the manor, likely finding a retreat in their favor.

Only one Noble remained in the area.

Dark eyes narrowed upon the creature as it slid down the tiled roof, body angled to jump over the Hunter and track down Krista. But it was not an option. The tip of the sword skimmed over the cobblestones, blade crossing his body.

He leapt, body soaring through the air like a majestic bird. It was far too late for the Vampire to attempt a dodge. But attempt he did, a pained scream filling the night air as the curved sword bisected him.

D landed amongst the offal, curdled blood and viscera popping and squelching underfoot.

There had to be a reason behind all this nonsense. This carnage. A reason for these cretins wanting the girl, specifically.

His job became a bit more complicated, and he doubted this night would be the end of it.

“Hey, there’s the kid,” Hand suddenly murmured. “And boy, does she look ticked.”

The statement was a bit of an understatement.

She looked prepared to kill. Mutilate. And it was all directed at the stoic man in black.

For a singular second, this small girl looked truly fearsome, blade in her hand quivering with rage. “You just threw me to the wolves!” she shouted, closing the distance between them. “I knew I couldn’t trust you. Especially now, now that I know you’re a filthy half-breed!”

She attacked, blade brandished and wholly indifferent to D’s ghastly aura as the winds churned around them. A growl left her as he evaded her comparatively lethargic lunge, but before she could do more, D was impaling her.

“Wasn’t that just a tad extreme?” Hand enquired, watching the girl claw at the blade protruding from her chest as she gurgled and choked on blood.

But like dew under the summer sun, her body evaporated, only a crimson mist left in her wake.

“Phew!” Hand sighed. “Good thing you knew she was a fake, yeah?”

No response met the countenanced carbuncle’s exclamation.

“Wait! You knew she was a fake, right?!”

---

Something was broken. She just knew it.

Okay, perhaps not. But Krista’s body cracked and popped like a bowl of rice cereal as she scampered down the neighboring alley, head throbbing and everything from her shoulders down aching something fierce. The gravel imbedded in her chewed up flesh did not help.

“He’s like a bloody bodybuilder, but without the freakish muscles!” she hissed, pausing long enough to secure her dagger with its mate. She was honestly surprised she’d managed to keep hold of it on her ‘trip’. And yet, the continued journey was short-lived.

Quick as a striking snake, an arm erupted from the darkness and snagged the fabric of her cloak. It wrenched with enough force to momentarily choke Krista into submission and she had no choice but to follow the downward pull.

The culprit? A woman no more than a few years her senior with champagne hair and round eyes the color of toasted grass. Her stout form filled Krista’s swimming vision before hoisting her to her feet and dragging her down another alley.

But Krista dug her heels into the ground and tugged free before too long, eyes narrowed at the woman. “What in the world are you doing?!” she snarled quietly as she loosened the cloak about her neck.

“You shouldn’t be out here!” the woman exclaimed just as softly. “It’s not safe!”

“And what were you doing out here?”

With a quick gesture to follow, the woman turned on her heel and started down the street. “I was attempting to gather some necessities and check on my family. I didn’t make it as far as I’d hoped before that horde of dead puppets swarmed the area. I suppose I am fortunate that they were more concerned with you and the Hunter after the sun set.”

It was a chilling thought that sent a spike of fear through Krista. But she followed the woman to a house, dark and unassuming, no less than a mile down the road and surrounded by equally vacant-looking houses. Inside, not far from the wood burning stove, the woman lifted a section of floor and she was ushered in.

The root cellar was understandably dark and humid, but pleasantly cool. Had D been in need, again, this would have made for a wonderful place to ‘plant’ him. And despite the circumstances and blood sullying her hands and clothes, Krista giggled and wheezed into her palms at the idea. Stony faced D, planted up to his waist like a wee sapling, a sprig of green sprouting from the top of his hat.

Lovingly referred to as Herbert.

Even though it would prefer to be called Bob.

She sank to her knees, gasping for air as tears trickled down her cheeks.

‘Finally snap, have ya?’

Perhaps she had. But here she would remain, giggling and eyeing the produce stored in the room. Hoping D would be able to find her. Trying to pick off the flaking blood from her skin. Attempting to purge her mind of that man’s smile.

That man’s smile.

“You shouldn’t leave here for a while,” Krista suddenly murmured.

“Eh?”

“If, or when, I leave, you shouldn’t leave here. Just…” Her eyes clouded over, seeing her dream from a couple nights prior. Muddled details becoming clear. “Don’t leave.”

The woman seemed taken aback, but nodded nonetheless. “Alright.”

A leaden silence filled the cellar.

“When did things get so bad?”

“Pardon?”

Krista reiterated the query, cradling her face in her palms.

“Oh, well,” the woman started. “Not until a week ago.”

“Am I really the only bloody person who left for help?!”

“No… Some of us tried, but we couldn’t make it past the Hongares surrounding the area. Some were not as fortunate as I in escaping those beasts.”

Now she just felt like trash. “I know what you mean,” she breathed, hand grasping her bandaged side. “I barely made it through the first time. I would have died if D hadn’t been there this time. But, what about to the north? Or any direction other than south?”

The woman shook her head, eyes downcast. “They completely encircled the town about a month ago, and only grew more agitated. We haven’t had anyone come through until now.”

And here she was, cowering in a root cellar while the man in black… well, she figured he was most likely cleaving a bloody path through the town. As it was, she felt they didn’t have much time left. But there she remained.

‘You’re a coward.’

Perhaps.

‘You are.’

She was, at least for this moment.

The door to the house creaked open and shattered the silence. Krista’s fingers danced along the hilt of her blades as she found herself struggling to swallow her sudden terror.

In the same moment, the woman lurched across the cellar, readying a trenching shovel with a wickedly sharp point. Perhaps Krista need not worry herself with protecting this woman. If anything, she might need the protection.

Because there she remained.

Frozen in terror as the hatch rattled.

Would she be able to kill one of those not-dead dead people? Normally debilitating wounds seemed to have no effect. Perhaps something more vital?

‘Decapitation. Watch their bloody heads roll!’

Unbidden, her mind and the voice supplied a visual she’d rather forget. Eyes following the phantom head of the Nobel as he purposefully lifted it from his shoulders.

She could live the rest of her days with never seeing that, again. But it did have a point. Once that Nobel was down, he did not rise.

Focus returned to the hatch as it lifted. And she stifled a sob of relief when a familiar figure descended the steps. “D! Oh, thank God!” She skittered around the woman, fingers itching to worry the fabric of his coat. To reassure herself that he was indeed there. But she restrained herself. “I’m so glad you’re okay!”

He did not respond, eyeing the woman with the shovel still raised. “It is safe now.”

This seemed to put her at ease, head bowing with gratitude. “You have our thanks, Hunter.”

Without another word, he beckoned for Krista to follow, leading her out of the house. Down the street with nary a word between them. But a few blocks down the road, Krista quietly asked, “How’s Hand?”

He faltered mid-stride. “My hands are fine.”

“That’s not what I meant,” she laughed. “How are you holdin’ up, Hand?”

No answer met her query. Another stone settled in her belly as they ceased to walk.

“Did I… do something wrong?”

Her vision blurred about the edges as the man in black drew his sword, heart thundering and sputtering about in her chest. The screech the blade emitted raising the fine hairs on the nape of her neck. And a rolling growl left him, though it sounded much like a wanna-be chuckle.

The outline of his body wavered.

This man was not the man she’d acquainted herself with. Or if it was the same man, this had better be a cruel joke.

“Something wrong?” Even his voice was off. It left her feeling… well, the image that came to mind was a vat of maggots and liquefying cucumbers. That her body was submerged within. “Your existence is an affront to nature. You have no purpose. But we will grant you one, once more.”

She shuddered with disgust, but could not pretend to understand what he meant. Only understood one thing. “It’s hard to give purpose to something that is dead.”

“Who said anything about killing you?”

The sword seemed to cry for blood, and she was hard pressed not to point out the obvious answer.

“No. No, we just want you… incapacitated for a little while.”

Krista lurched back just as the blade cleaved through the space her neck occupied. Her eyes grew wide. Whether more from fear or astonishment, she couldn’t say. If she’d been just a hair slower…

A hand clasped about her throat, smearing the thin line of blood there. Her chest heaved, body suddenly desperate for air.

‘Oh, don’t start that, again.’

She didn’t, fingers slipping from her neck and tightening around one end of her club. As though it were a life line. And this man was Death incarnate, come to sever one such line as he lunged forward, sword aimed for her belly.

Did this man not understand the meaning of incapacitated? Unless her new purpose was to be fertilizer?

There wasn’t much time for supposing, however, as she scrambled just out of reach. Small fingers clawing at the cobblestone road for purchase. Slung bits of stone and dirt back at the advancing man. Heard him hiss in annoyance as said road bits pelted his face. And a part of her almost found the situation humorous.

By the time she got her feet under her, however, she was anything other than amused, heart continuing to pound out a panicked rhythm he was sure to hear as she continued to dance out of reach of the sword. With each strike, he grew closer. His attacks unrelenting. She was running on borrowed time, and she knew her luck would not persist.

But she had hoped it would for just a bit longer. Blade met cloth and flesh and cleaved them cleanly open, a flash of searing pain running from her knee to her ankle. Blood flowing in pulsing waves from the wound.

‘That can’t be good. You should stop the bleeding.’

“No screamin’ eagle shit!”

The man halted mid-lunge, taken aback by her sudden outburst, and she took the opportunity to strike. With the last bit of her energy, she surged forward, dagger unfastened and poised for the base of his throat.

Yes, surely this man was an imposter. The D she knew would have easily deflected her attack. Or dodged. Anything other than gape stupidly at her as her blade struck home. But she did not stop at that, shoving her meager weight into his body until they toppled to the ground.

The look that overcame the girl’s typically innocent features could have been considered chilling had anyone been around to witness it. Eyes gleaming an electrifying blue as she grinned too widely and wrenched the dagger back, prepared to attack the dying man, once more.

That’s not entirely correct.

The man had a perfect view of her murderous visage. Despite being in no immediate danger, it shook him to his core. As his form was dispelled, he could only marvel at how much she’d grown.

Krista watched perplexed as the imposter faded out of existence. If he could simply vanish, would he be able to come back? The very thought put her one edge. There was no way she could muster up the energy to fend off another one. And there was the matter of her leg.

Crimson blood continued to pulse from the wound, and her vision was dimming, world swimming as she cut strips of cloth from her cloak. And God help her, it was a pain she did not want to experience, again. Not when she was almost certainly seeing bone.

“Man,” she grunted, tightening down another strip. “I really liked these breeches.” Did she know any seamstresses? “Suppose I’ll just buy more when this is over.”

With the flow of her life slowed, she staggered to a stand, trying to ignore the spinning surroundings. And failing horrendously as she teeter-tottered about. Right into the armor-clad chest of a man she’d rather not see. She screeched, pain, anger, and terror clashing as she thrashed in the man’s hold.

Maybe she should give in? But there was no telling what they would do with her. What this new purpose entailed.

With renewed vigor, she lifted both feet and kicked, flopping to the ground like a beached whale as she broke loose. Honestly, she didn’t know where to go from there. The only conceivable choice (besides give up) was run. There was no chance in Hell she’d be able to dodge and fight. And with a leg that was more interested in flopping about, even running seemed improbable.

Maybe a small distraction was in order?

She was already standing by the time she decided she would follow her first plan. Who knew? Perhaps she could find another place to hide. In the meantime, her body quaked as she drew back the hand grasping her blade. She threw it directly at his face, turning to flee before she could see the outcome.

Perhaps if she’d bothered to notice that this man had yet to draw his blade? But there was no room for logic in her fear-clouded mind. One thing was certain, however. The weapon did not hit the ground.

No, there stood the Hunter, the true Hunter, with the blade pinched between his index and middle fingers no less than an inch before his brow. He’d been in the process of tracking the girl when he’d smelled her blood. While its sweet scent was a welcome surprise and enough to arouse his hunger without bedding it down, it was concerning. So strongly did it flood the air, to the point it was cloying. He had almost feared she’d met her demise.

Just looking at the street would lead him to believe she came close. Based on her reaction to him, it would also be safe for him to assume she’d run into a situation similar to his. And it hadn’t gone well.

Hand seemed to come to the same conclusion. “You think she ran into a fake you? Or is she finally off her rocker?” Mostly the same conclusion.

But D need not respond as he eyed the silver-plated blade that toed the line between dagger and short sword. He strapped the weapon to his hip. Yes, this certainly was looking to be a long night.

---

Krista lurched to a standstill in the road, leg throbbing and tingling. Perhaps she fastened the cloth strips too tight. However, as she hunched over and gasped for air, rubbing angrily at the tears marring her face, she couldn’t bring herself to care. Not until she felt it.

Yes, that little niggling nostalgia at the back of her mind. It cried for attention like a newborn babe as the seconds passed. “What is…” She whipped her head up, realizing that despite her advanced knowledge, she still ran headlong into her dream. And all her energy was expended. “Sh-shit!”

She hoped beyond hope that the woman had listened to her. Had stayed put in that bloody root cellar. Her heart pounded painfully in her chest. “Please, don’t have come here.” Grey eyes swiveled about to eye the street.

It was clear.

“Thank the gods.”

She spoke too soon. Out came the girl, looking rather suspicious and wary as she observed the area before attempting to move on. Krista yelled for her to run, hide, her voice cracking with emotion as she started towards her. But instead of heeding her warning, the woman stood there dumbstruck.

It was too late for Krista to be of use, however. From the darkness came the figure from her dream, same malicious smile revealing canines too sharp to be normal as he loomed behind the woman. And like a child, Krista covered her eyes, unwilling to watch her dream come to fruition. Shuddering as a startled scream pierced the air.

She could still save D.

With a surge of determination, she twisted around and… was still taken aback by the Hunter’s appearance. Her stomach twisted and churned, and she wept as the same lurid light from her dream coursed through his eyes. But despite her sudden fear, she reached for him, intending to drag him down or out of town. This would not end the same way as her dream!

It didn’t.

The Hunter whirled about, coat flaring with the sharp movement as he drew his blade and deflected the weapon aimed for his heart. Impaled the heart of the man behind the attack. But as he readied himself to deal with the other Noble creeping up behind Krista, an undead puppet crawled along the ground from the adjacent alley.

It wasn’t that he was unaware of the marionette, but as he drove his elbow into the handsy Noble’s face and pulled Krista from his grasp, there was no defending himself from the sword that buried itself to the hilt in his back. A rough shudder passed through him, and a splash of crimson painted the girl’s face. But still, he lurched forward, sword slicing through the flesh of the Noble’s neck as he attempted to extricate himself of the puppet’s blade and hold.

For an empty shell of a human, this thing had a death grip on him.

He sank to his knees, strength waning as the sword twisted about. Another tremor shook him. His brow furrowed. Seems that even with the knowledge of her dream, he could not avoid this. And Krista seemed even more unwilling to accept this. Slender fingers wrapped around the blade, her face twisted in anguish.

Yet, before she could push the blade out of his chest, another not-dead dead man waltzed up behind him. No, not just any Noble stood there. Riedikke, lips lifted in a cruel smile. He wrenched the sword out with an unnecessary flourish and kicked the puppet to one side. Yes, this certainly seemed to be a victory in their favor.

However, logic fled the crimson haired girl as she eyed the Hunter bleeding out at her feet. Eyes flashed wildly between the tired grey they’d become over the course of the night and electric blue. She could almost hear the voice hissing to kill him, maim him. Make him wish he was never born.

With her last dagger brandished in wounded and numbing hands, she leapt over D.

Or she would have had a pair of arms not encircled her waist and jerked her from the air. She screeched out her frustration. She thrashed. She bucked. She stabbed. Anything to break loose.

The creature at her back merely chuckled. As if each blow were a mere nuisance. “Good riddance, Dhampir. And quit your struggling, girl. It’s no use.” The dagger was pulled from her grasp.

It seemed that despite the characters playing different roles, some things would remain the same. Echoes of her dream. Mocking her for attempting to change the outcome. And she sobbed as she eyed the Hunter’s limp form, praying to any god that would listen that he would wake up, right as rain.

“It’s time to come home.”

She received at least one wish.

This did not end entirely the same.

---

The sound of rushing wind disturbed the quiet night. The type of quiet that left one looking over their shoulder, seeing figures and demons where none resided. But this was closely followed by a loud belch. Hand quietly smacked his lips and muttered to himself as he slapped himself against D’s chest, emulating a friendly pat that came off as more of a halfhearted flailing gesture. Surely everything he’d gathered would suffice. The Hunter’s blood off the street. The meager flames flickering in the lamps. A good bit of road and earth beside them. It should work.

The man did not rouse.

He stretched up high enough to view the spot the wound once resided. It was, indeed, healed.

But still, he remained inert.

The hand groaned. “Okay, Sleeping Beauty! It’s time to wake up!” He slapped him across one cheek. “Your princess is in another castle!”

“Princess?” the Hunter suddenly murmured, sounding nearly amused to the creature.

“Well, more like an ‘it’. Not a hairy ‘it’, but an ‘it’.” A heavy silence fell about the pair as D rose to his feet and gathered his broad-brimmed hat and the blood-soaked dagger lying a few feet away. And the hand sighed. “I thought we were past this, D.”

D seemed to agree.

“But then, I can’t recall if we’ve ever dealt with a neurotoxin on top of a chewed-up heart.”

To this, he also agreed. A neurotoxin strong enough to combat his healing was nothing to laugh at. And considering the girl had hold of the blade when it was removed? He sincerely hoped the majority of it resided in his flesh. “Where is the girl?”

“Where do you think?” the arm gestured in a jerky fashion towards the manor at the edge of town. “Creepy bastards told her it was ‘time to come home’. And with the way they were eyeing her, I wouldn’t want to waste much more time.”

Too true.

He loosed a shrill whistle into the night air. Like the steadfast creature it was, the stalwart steed tore through town to the dark clothed traveler. Without pause, D mounted and they soared through the streets to the manor.

Marionettes and the stench of decay littered the path, lifeless faces (those that had faces) looking to the eastern sky. The thundering of the horse’s hooves roused some from their stupor, but most could not be bothered to take notice. Could not be bothered to avoid certain death. They fell beneath his blade faster than brush to a freshly sharpened sling blade.

But beyond the shells, there were no guardians of the estate. No defense systems.

Nothing.

“Well, doesn’t this just scream ‘easy’?” the creature in his hand remarked.

Inclined to agree, the Hunter launched himself at the wall of the enclosure. Fingers found purchase where most would normally find none, and with an ease and grace befitting this man, he scaled the obstacle and landed with nary a sound on the opposite side.

The courtyard was… varied, to say the least. But not grandiose. It had a smattering of pretty little roses bushes that sprawled along the raised beds, desert plants and flowers that were larger than feasible, and plethora of overly large succulents. It might have been a peaceful place to rest or read under different circumstances.

The inside was another story. Wood floors gleamed with the light of a fresh waxing. Portraits and numerous great works of art lined the walls. Coffee tables and sideboards topped with a black granite polished to perfection. The manor was a true sight to behold with its tall windows and winding staircase, the trims and handrails hand-carved with intricate and swirling designs.

But, of course, D was not here for the pretty sight, even if his hand did trail along the smooth rails.

"Up two or three floors,” said Hand. “Of all the places to hold ‘prisoners’, they chose upstairs.”

The Hunter ascended the stairs, unconcerned with the possibility of running into Nobles along the way. The building was mostly quiet. Any activity was further into or beneath the estate. But three floors up and down a couple of hallways lied a stretch of unassuming doors. The cloying scent of blood saturated the air here.

His hunger rose like a blood-starved beast, and perhaps it was. It wasn’t anything he couldn’t quell, though, as he stood before the door where the scent was thickest. While he couldn’t hear anything, he was sure this was the room she resided in. With a silence befitting the man, he turned the doorknob.

Locked.

Of course. Why would it be anything but?

Disregarding this, he continued rotating the knob until the mechanisms within were warped beyond repair. But still, the door did not open.

“Oh, just kick the damn thing down!”

The seal on the door broke loose with a loud clattering beneath the assault, and he had to wonder if the rooms were soundproofed. The ruckus that poured out afterwards was anything but freshly started.

There the girl hung, suspended a foot or so off the ground, flailing and screeching like a madwoman. One arm mostly free of her restraints, she bounced her meager weight on the remaining chain and desperately hoped it would snap like the other. But the damn thing remained firmly in place. Tried her patience and pain tolerance. Added to her anger and frustration.

Despite her wrist looking and feeling like someone made a half-assed attempt to cut off her hand, she continued to jerk about. She cursed anything and everything under the sun and spewed enough profanities to make the saltiest men blush. With her feet shackled, as well, there was no way for her to gain the leverage needed to finish the job.

“That turd! If I get my hands on him, I’m gonna rip off his head, shit on it, and throw it back at him!” Krista paused and clawed at her head. She wished she were still numb from the shoulders down so she didn’t have to feel the pain even that caused. “I don’t even poop, but I’m gonna do it!”

D observed her a moment longer, mildly amused by the strange threat, but also minding the blood-splattered floor and her tattered clothes. Part of him was impressed by her fire and respected her determination. But now, it was time to be done.

He reached up to still her thrashing, and her eyes opened at the touch. Where one might expect relief to overcome her, no such thing happened. Grey eyes narrowed in suspicion. Lips drew back over gleaming teeth in a ferocious snarl.

“I know D’s dead, so quit the crap and go away!”

With the little leeway afforded by her restraints, she lifted her feet enough to kick him back. It was then the last chain attached to her wrist decided to snap. And for the second time that night, she flopped to the ground like a beached whale.

Moaned like one, too.

“Kid,” Hand started as D inspected her shackles. “It’s us. We’re not dead.”

She was sold. The other D didn’t have Hand. If this D did, there was no other explanation. At the realization, tears fled her eyes. “Oh, thank the gods! I’m so glad! But… how?”

“We have our ways. Don’t you worry about it.”

The latches around her wrists and ankles fell loose as D pocketed his needle, clasping a hand about her upper arm and hefting her to her feet. She wobbled, and like any sane person, he pressed his opposite hand against her back to steady her.

It was like pouring salt on an open wound. She hissed and jerked away. Had it not been for the hand still gripping her arm, she would have toppled to the floor, once more.

The Hunter need not look to know what the problem was. Puckered and chewed up flesh, still weeping blood, had met his hand. But still, he tipped her forward to examine her back. Fingertips ghosted over the wounds. Only the skin covered by the straps of her armor was spared. “They flogged you.”

“Yeah… They did something, alright. Is it bad?”

“Familiar with ground meat?”

“Ew!”

“It’s not that bad.”

There was a long pause before she murmured, “That doesn’t really give me much confidence.” She also had to admit that she would have never expected such a ‘tease’ from the stoic man, but it seemed fitting. But as he turned her head this way and that, exposed her wrists and removed her tattered shirt, she was bemused. “Being inspected like a piece of meat isn’t helping.”

D halted his investigation, but only after checking her inner eyelids and fingernails. “Did they do anything else to you?”

She released an unladylike snort. “Besides string me up and whip me? Told me I needed to behave, but that’s about it. Kept staring at me like I was a piece of… y’know what? I’m tired of thinking about being meat. Did you have to start that?” A rough shudder passed through her.

It wasn’t entirely off the mark, though.

‘Maybe we are meat to them!’

The man in black watched her shudder, once more, and list to one side. She was anemic. However, there wasn’t much he could do while they were here. At the very least, it didn’t seem to be the result of a ‘kiss’.

And speaking of kisses, he snapped his eyes down.

She was leaning in, lips softly puckered and eyes lidded as she braced herself against him. He stepped back. Hooking a hand about his neck and the other behind his shoulder, she followed. “Wait, don’t move,” she breathed and suddenly puffed her cheeks. She blew.

Without pause, she pulled back, her prize perched on her hand. A fuzzy jumping spider, no bigger than her thumb nail. “Oh, they’re so cute! I’m gonna call you Fluffy!” It seemed appreciative of her comments.

D watched the girl shimmy in place and fawn over the arachnid, body tense and lips drawn tight. Jaw working in mild agitation. While she was oblivious, the creature in his hand was not. It snickered softly. “Little tense, are we? Too bad she’s not a bit shapelier. Or competent.”

Hand did not protest the sudden closure of his mouth as D clenched his fist. In the creature’s defense, he wasn’t speaking at a volume where Krista could hear him. At this point, she was too busy lamenting the loss of her fuzzy friend (that she had to leave behind) and attempting to salvage her remaining clothes.

“Man!” she whined. “I just bought this cloak and lookit!” She tossed it to one side with a huff. “I mean, I know I cut a lot from the bottom, but at least it was still wearable! Did they have to shred it when they pulled it off me?! Why do that but let me keep my money? Why take mah boots?!”

Complaints continued to pour from her pale lips as she struggled to force her feet into the aforementioned boots, but the Hunter paid it no mind. For someone so removed from the happenings of this world, he would not deny her this release of stress and anger. But he should probably put an end to it soon.

The inhuman noise she was currently emitting would surely draw in any Nobles with enough sense to investigate, despite her attempt to muffle it by stuffing her face in her hands.

“Damn these not-dead dead people!”

---

“A moment, Riedikke?”

The farmeresque Vampire that was draped across a lounge chair glanced up to eye the nameless man before him. Well, perhaps not nameless, but he was not invested in his life. “What?”

The fair skinned Noble pulled out a small device and depressed the nondescript button at its top with a soft pop. “Regarding your failure-”

“What failure?” he snarled, rising from his seat. He loomed over the man, teeth bared.

Any attempts to appear threatening, however, were lost on the nameless one. He started over, unperturbed, and clicked the button, again. “Regarding your failure, in both eliminating the Hunter and proving to be useful as a manipulator without losing your composure, the council has decided you are no longer an asset.”

Another click.

The estate rumbled. A terrifying mix of realization and fury appeared on Riedikke’s countenance. But the man continued. “As such, you have served your purpose and you are no longer required. All the captive citizens were released by the Hunter and the girl. All that remains is you.”

It didn’t take a genius to read between the lines. He’d been left for dead. “And what about the girl? Giving up on that?”

“In due time,” he responded.

“Change in plans, you mean.”

“Doesn’t matter. Your end comes.”

“It comes for us all, doesn’t it?” the farmer replied, turning with an amicable smile. There stood the Hunter and the girl. Despite the circumstances, he was excited. “Oh, kitten, how you’ve grown!”

For the third time that night, that little hiccup in her thoughts occurred. Just at the sight of this man. At his voice. Gods, why did she hate him so much?! Besides the flogging and his general attitude, what reason did she have to dislike him to the point of nausea?

Why did she want to rip the life from him.

Their bodies were toppling to the floor before she realized she was moving, slender fingers digging into the flesh of his neck. Blood trickled out around her nails. Still, she continued to dig in, sitting astride his chest with his arms pinned by her legs. Forgotten was her fatigue and pain.

She would ensure his end.

D approached the pair, studying the girl with blue eyes as she growled at the Noble beneath her. The other Noble had collapsed dead the moment they entered, bubbling brain matter trickling from his ears and nose. In such a state, there was no need to be concerned. But he stooped and grasped Krista’s shoulder, a silent order to cease her quest for blood.

But, Gods help her, he was still grinning like nothing is wrong!

“Kid, we get it,” Hand murmured. “But he needs to answer some questions before you kill him.”

The electrifying color drained partially from her eyes. Fingers loosened their hold but did not release him. “Ask.”

“What was your business here?” D enquired.

Riedikke loosed a breathy chuckle, eyes narrowing in disdain. “Nothing of your business, you disgusting half-breed.” The girl above him jerked. Pain, sudden and startling, blackened his vision as he gagged on the teeth peppering the back of his throat.

“Damn!” Hand gave an appreciative whistle. “That couldn’t have felt good. So, let’s try, again. What’s hot in Puregon? Why so familiar with the girl?”

Looking Death in the eye, he still smiled, a haughty curve of the lips as he resituated himself. “She’s my little kitten! We were familiar with each other, once upon a time. Perhaps she will remember, some day.” He ran his tongue across bloodied gums. “Shame I didn’t get more of a taste, earlier.”

“Quite the freak, aren’t you? Still doesn’t answer our question.”

“I already told you it was none of your business!”

“She’s our client. It is.”

Riedikke laughed long and hard. “What the hell?! It’s not like I have anything to lose! Everything requires a blood sacrifice. Once we’ve met our quota, done our part, paid with our pound of flesh, he will put all lesser beings in their place! Head to the Southern Continent and find out first hand!”

He eyed Krista. “And you, my little kitten. You will find your purpose and your home. Until then, have fun playing whore to this creature!”

There was that word, again. Whore. And that thing in her mind practically convulsed as D lifted his hand from her shoulder. He was saying… something that would normally leave her feeling confused and, possibly, dirty. But she could only see red.

A bloodthirsty grin curved her lips. Blood gushed around her fingertips. “Good news! Your vacation request has just been expedited! We hope you enjoy the burning fires of Hell!”

Gurgling gasps filled the room as she clawed through the Noble’s neck. D did not interrupt, merely observing as chunks of flesh and blood splattered against the hardwood floor.

“D, whatever you do, try not to piss her off,” Hand suggested, eyeing the scene as Krista lurched to her feet.

While the Hunter would likely never view the girl as threat, the creature’s words were not without reason. This stubborn mule of a girl, so very innocent. And yet, look at the blood marring her pale skin. The wicked smile twisting her full lips. Eyes a startlingly vibrant cornflower blue glimmering with glee.

Against Hand’s better judgement, D chose that moment to return her blades. Despite her previously bloodthirsty mood, he highly doubted she would turn on him. In fact, the eyes that turned up to him were a pitifully dull green. The devious grin softening about the edges. Shoulders slumped with exhaustion.

“Thank you, D. I didn’t think I was getting these back,” she chuckled, a breathy sound that denoted just how tired she was as she ran a bloodied hand across her face. She grimaced. The blood was beginning to dry, leaving her skin with a tacky feeling. “I should probably clean up, huh? I wonder where the bathroom is here.”

The Hunter watched her wobble and stumble about out the door and down the hall, no doubt in search of running water, as he pressed the tip of his sword through Riedikke’s heart. Without a master to guide them, he was sure the puppets still scattered across the city would pose no threat. The Hongares were likely well on their way southward. Their business in Puregon was at its end.

All but…

“This night is probably gonna hit her soon, if it hasn’t already.”

The girl.

He had to agree. Far too innocent to have ever acted this way before. Following her crimson trail of bloody handprints plastered along the walls landed him in the kitchen. Perched on the counter with water running from the tap in the sink, Krista sat motionless.

No, that wasn’t entirely accurate.

Her body quivered, chest almost appearing to convulse as her stuttered breaths fought to turn into ugly, wrenching sobs. Whatever she became in that room and out on the streets, that bloodthirsty thing… Whatever that was, she sincerely hoped she never became it, again. To be swallowed by such a strong rage. Afterwards, it was a terrible feeling. Terrifying. Exhilarating!

She jerked, hands clawing at her head in a bid to silence that voice. That lilted tone that came unbidden and weaved its way through her thoughts.

‘You wanted him dead! And you wanted to kill that ‘Laun’ guy! You can’t deny that! Just think of what they did to Miss Haldwyn!’ the voice excitedly breathed. ‘Didn’t they deserve it?!’

They did deserve it!

But after what she just did, was she much better? What with that sick desire to go back in time and do it all over, again?

It groaned. ‘You’re bein’ impossible! Get over it!’

Blood trickled down her forehead.

‘Pathetic. Pathetic and useless.’

“Just go the hell away!”

“If that is what you wish.”

The warmth of a hand stilling her own pulled away.

With a noise not suited for such a tiny woman and a loud clatter, Krista tumbled off the counter, arm outstretched before her. Wounds she’d momentarily forgotten burning and aching. She flailed, disoriented. At least the voice was quiet. “W-wait! I wasn’t talking to you! Why would you think I was?”

His left hand gestured at the room. “There is no one else here, kid. Besides…”

“I’m a Dhampir,” D finished as she stood. “We wouldn’t be surprised, all things considered.”

“All things considered?”

Oh, back to this, were they?

“You’ve had a taste of what the Nobility can accomplish. Of their true nature.” He stepped into her personal space. Watched as she leaned backwards over the countertop. “Of my true nature.”

Grey eyes hardened with realization. She glared up at him. “You are not like them. And if the day comes where you are even slightly like them, it’s gonna be for a reason.”

And there was her fire.

He stepped away. “What will you do now? Stay in the comforts of home and relative safety until they come for you, again?”

“Or head south for the winter?” A humorless laugh filled the air. “Not much of a decision. Besides, this place… it never was home. And the only person who could have made it home can’t anymore. I think I will take my chances with you. Again. Some more.”

A silence settled around them. A comfortable one that she was unwilling to break as he turned and beckoned for her to follow. Once in the sitting room by the doors, he triggered a mechanism she wouldn’t have noticed alone. In trotted the cybernetic horse after a brief moment, snorting and stamping at the floor. From its saddlebags, he pulled the first aid kit that was seeing more use than any other kit previously in his possession.

He might need another if this trend continued.

“Sit.”

He need not tell her twice.

One grunt later and she was splayed across a large hassock. Despite the burning of her back, she was perfect comfy. It would take an act of war to have her move from her position. “I assume you want my leg first?”

The sensation of her leg being lifted and settled across his thighs was answer enough. He pulled loose the makeshift bindings, all but the one just above her knee. And while she couldn’t wholly feel him working, the slight tug on her leg let her know when he started stitching the wound.

Finally, he pulled the last one loose.

There was her act of war.

She hissed as life flooded her leg. Much like when your leg falls asleep, those pins and needles that start up. But worse. She snapped upwards to clutch the offended limb. “Good golly, Molly!”

“My name is not Molly.”

Golden tendrils of sunlight slowly flooded the room. Laughter, hearty and wheezy, followed.

“Where’s the stone-faced D I’m used to?!”

Chapter Text

November 01, 13,012

She dreamed. Dreamed of simpler times. Of pale, winged demons and a knight in tarnished armor. Fields of flowers in bloom and fields of fire and corruption. Puppies eating rainbows and farting butterflies.

The horse was a magnificent place to rest. The gentle rocking and swaying, with her bare flesh kissed by the sun and pleasantly cool wind, it made for perfect napping conditions. Although, she couldn’t say she relished the nightmares. But so deep into the Tarnished Knight dream, she couldn’t say she remembered enough of anything to be bothered.

What did bother her?

The squeezes to her shoulder. She just wanted to sleep. For days, if possible. The disturbance was only serving to agitate her. It didn’t help the Knight was attempting to speak with her. Something undoubtedly important. Pertinent to their situation.

But like a pane of glass to a rock, her little world shattered about her as she dove face-first into the sand. Not of her own volition, of course. And not that the horse had come to a sudden stop like the first time. No, as she pushed herself up on trembling arms and shook her head, she could hear the Hunter tell his companion that something was uncalled for.

If she could just get her heart to quiet and her shaking to cease. Clear her confusion and listen past the rush of blood in her ears. And good golly did she ache. How in the world did D just jump up after being stabbed in the heart?

“Well, at least she’s up now,” the creature huffed. “Your way wasn’t getting us anywhere.”

‘Ah. Hand must’ve shoved me off.’ It was the only logical thing, considering the circumstances. Krista stretched a hand up and braced herself against the horse. Breaths puffed past her lips as she struggled up. Had she been this weak before?

By the time she was standing, she considered it a small miracle she didn’t immediately collapse. “Well… What’s up?” she panted, idly brushing the sand from her skin.

“Figured you might want new clothes to replace the ones you lost,” murmured D. His head tipped to one side, and he watched as she slowly looked in that direction. They were on the outskirts of another desert town, unsurprisingly walled off.

It took her a moment to respond, nodding gradually in agreement with his assumption. “Yeah… I would.”

While her back was covered in bandages, she couldn’t say she felt comfortable traipsing around half-naked. Pants looking like part of them got caught in a blender. And her boot. And the stitches. And more bandages.

She could probably be mistaken for a mummy at this point. Were mummies a thing? She understood they were a thing in the sense of people being mummified, but… If she had the energy, she might have started shaking him and asking if there were any more not-dead dead things she needed to know about.

Instead, she shook her head and started through the open gate. Walking was not any easier. She was sure that if she ever had the misfortune of swimming through molasses, this is what it would feel like. Gooier, but like each limb was weighted down.

“Let it be known… that I sincerely hope… I never feel like this, again,” the girl grumbled.

The Hunter observed her unsteady walk to the shop she desired, taking a moment to tether the horse at a trough as she shouted about the injustice that was the shop’s name. ‘Winter and Summer Attire’ but none for Spring and Autumn. Part of him considered her possible need for a blood transfusion. Another part felt that, in the end, she wouldn’t need one. She did not realize it yet, with all the aching, but her wounds were not healing at a Human pace.

Such as her broken leg. For many, walking around on it without much issue not even a week from the time it was broken? A week simply was not long enough for normal Humans. Not with as bad as it was. Not without outside help and treatment aside from a splint.

However, he set aside the thought as he stepped into the garish apparel store. Not just the clothing was obtrusively bright. The walls. The rugs. Thank God he couldn’t go blind from poor taste and design. He navigated the store until he located Krista in the men’s section, her head firmly planted on a shelf of folded breeches.

She started groaning.

Obnoxiously. Loudly.

Sinking to the floor like a gloopy blob.

Hand snickered. “What’s the matter, kid?”

With a soft sigh, she replied, “Nothing my size.”

“Try the junior section?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Women’s?”

“Yup.”

At this point, she was a goo pile. Garbage incarnate, in her own eyes. “I’m gonna have to wear a sack with a face hole!” she cried.

And he watched as she slunk across the floor towards the simple cotton dresses, fully expecting her to acquire a few splinters along the way. Or trip up some unsuspecting fool who dared cross her path. After all, she was trash on a mission.

She snatched up a long-sleeved dress a disgusting shade of green, along with a hooded cloak similar to her last. By the time she was at the counter, her glower could have killed. The woman manning the register was lucky it didn’t. To be fair, Krista was trying (and failing horrendously) to smile appreciatively as she paid for the items.

Once outside, however, she merely scowled and fought with the article. “I know you’re probably wondering what my issue is with dresses!” she growled, voice muffled by the ugly dress as she wormed about inside it. “And I couldn’t tell you! I just hate them! Impractical drapes! Makin’ life hard!”

Her head finally burst from the top, crimson hair a wild mane. Eyes wide and angry. Almost daring anyone to utter a single word. And she slapped and jerked around the fabric, attempting to straighten the tucked and lumpy skirt. “There!”

The hunter watched her snap about on her heel. Should he tell her that the dress was still wadded up in the back?

“I wouldn’t,” Hand murmured.

He did.

The ensuing screeches of fury were worth it. Even if most of the town came out with guns at the ready.

---

The sun seemed to race for the horizon at breakneck speeds, their travel broken only by short breaks for the horse and one intense pee break for the girl. Intense only because of how abrupt her demand to stop was. Then her fight with the folds of the dress. Her pants. Her armor. And panicked pleadings that he not look at her pitiful hiding spot a hundred yards away as she flailed about behind a bush that more closely resembled a mass of dead sticks.

The shredded breeches found a new home in a saddlebag.

But as she clambered into the saddle, muttering about feeling like a fluffed poodle, she settled down enough to ask, “How long do you think it will take to reach the Southern Continent?”

“Depends.”

“I know it depends. That why I said ‘think’!” she exclaimed, turning with a pout.

The endearing look was wholly ignored. “It depends upon the horse’s need for rest. Your needs. Nature. Without pushing the horse to exhaustion, I’d estimate at least 5 months.”

“…The world ain’t gonna end before that, is it?”

“Unlikely.”

Her eyes suddenly went wide, and she slapped at the air around his thigh. “What if we get lost and it takes us years to get there?!”

“Not everyone is as directionally challenged as you.”

Lips parted and snapped shut just as quickly as she searched for words. She had nothing to say to that. It was true. But she did have to wonder what was with all the teasing. “It should be a crime to act so stoic and say some of the shit you do,” she finally grumbled. “But you sound really logical and smart anytime you talk. You mind me asking how old you are, D?”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. Thinking about it now… you only look a few years older than me. But…” She shoved her hands out before her, roughly outlining his shape. Then she acted like she was going to squish it, hands never quite meeting with each attempt. “You don’t feel like that. That make sense?”

“Well, kid,” Hand started. “Him being a Dhampir, he gets a lot of the perks that comes with the territory. He gets some of the negatives, too. But most Nobles don’t age. If they do, it is so slow that it takes many millennia for them to ‘grow old’.”

Her head snapped back, eyes alight with awe and curiosity. A wide smile curled her lips. “So, you are old? Like, hundreds of years?!” At the slight quirk of his brow, she sputtered and gasped. “Thousands?!”

“Quite,” the Hunter replied.

“Wow! You’re an old fart!”

Rude.

“Sorry, that was rude.”

It was.

"But, it’s true.”

Rude, again, girl.

She laughed, eyes a beautiful mix of their typical acidic green and the tired grey he’d come to associate with poor health. They twinkled with mischief as she gazed back at him. Once she felt a bit better, she knew of a sure way to get a rise out of him. Or, as much of one as you might expect of the stoic Hunter.

The setting sun, as entrancing as it was with its wild mix of golds and reds and violets, was not enough to deter the sudden wave of drowsiness. Against her will, her head tipped forward.

The world faded to black.

---

“Explain why the Hongares almost killed the girl,” a soft voice demanded. It was the type of tone that was deceptively sweet. The listener found himself shuddering.

“To be fair, they wouldn’t have-”

“And yet, if not for that accursed Dhampir, she would be dead!” the woman bellowed.

There was a leaden silence in the room. “The one that attacked her was a pup. It didn’t know. It was hungry and she was there. Besides, by the time the thralls were on her trail, they received word that the Hunter was contracted out and already had her.”

The light patter of bare feet. When she spoke, her voice was deadly. “So, you mean to tell me… The thralls were tracking her before the half-breed ever stepped into the picture, but still could not get to her before him?”

“The towns would chase her off before they could get to her.”

She scoffed. “Sounds like someone might be working against us. Well, the night wasn’t a complete failure. That piece of trash they called Riedikke spilled his guts. She’ll come right to us. That just means more time to prepare.

“While we wait, however, I want you to find someone to dispatch the mongrels. I don’t want them causing any problems here.”

---

It had been two days since they left Puregon. Two days! And she’d swear it’d only been twenty. Their little stop for clothes the prior day seemed so far away. Krista stretched and snapped and popped, struggling to work loose the kinks in her back. While their trip thus far had been interrupted by intermittent breaks for the horse, she hadn’t had time to really do so.

But then, it’s hard finding time to stretch when you are sleeping for the majority of the traveling. If anything exciting happened, she’d been oblivious to it. She barely recalled D pushing water at her and tending to her bandages. And the few times she had awoken of her own accord had been for barely a few minutes.

And here she was, about to sleep some more. While she knew she’d lost a fair bit of blood, she couldn’t imagine that it was entire the cause of her exhaustion. Perhaps it was. Either way, she crumpled to the ground, cradling her head in her arms.

“D? Are we staying here for the night?”

“We are,” came his murmured reply. “Still tired?”

“Mmhmm.” Maybe she could sleep it out not on the horse? Stretched out and almost at ‘perfect comfy’ levels. “Am I gonna die?”

“Someday.”

“But probably not today?” Her eyes were closed, mind beginning to drift. She could still hear him unsaddling the horse, but it was such a soft noise. Calming. She almost wished he talked more.

“Why?” The Hunter seated himself not far from the girl, propped against the saddle and watching as she jerked at his soft enquiry. She must have been dozing. Part of him wondered if she even realized she’d said anything.

“Why?”

She didn’t.

“Oh… I said that out loud, huh.”

Slowly, she twisted to face him, eyes lidded and glazed. “You just have… a really nice voice. I bet you’d… sing good, too.” Her eyes fell closed. “Like a… fudgin’… turtle…”

She was asleep.

The Hunter stared at her a moment, almost at a loss for words. However, his hand shook with barely contained laughter. “You’d sound like a fudgin’ turtle!” The countenanced carbuncle continued to chortle and wheeze. D wasn’t so sure it was that humorous. “Oh God! I might die!”

“One could hope.”

The quiet quip only served to pull more gasping laughs from the creature.

November 03, 13,012

Warmth.

Sweet Mother of all that is good, she’d officially reached perfect comfy. Once again, it might take an act of war to rouse her. Truly, she didn’t think that any bed had ever made her feel so comfortable in her life.

Despite her half-lucid state, however, the soft thump beneath her hand did not go unnoticed.

How queer. She couldn’t recall the earth whumping before.

Ba-bum

Something was definitely whumping about. She wished she could play it off as sleep deprivation. With all the sleep she’d gotten over the past couple of days, however, it would have been a blatant lie. She supposed, as another beat made her fingers tremble, that this was her ‘act of war’. But if she had to guess, it sounded much like a heartbeat.

A very slow one.

Her eyelids fluttered, vision blurred by sleep.

Wait… were her eyes open?

She would swear they were, but she could not see. Jabbed herself in the eye attempting to even catch a glimpse of her hand.

“Smooth move, kid.”

She screeched with fright.

Or she would have if not for the hand clamped down over her mouth.

Hand.

But if he was close enough to clasp himself over her face in this manner, curled around the back of her head, that could only mean…

Her internal panicked screeching intensified.

However, through it all, that voice leaked through. ‘It’d be pretty funny if it turned out you tried to make a move on him.’

What did that even mean?

The voice sighed, clearly dejected by her lack of understanding. ‘Never mind. Should’ve guess you wouldn’t’ve known what I’m talkin’ about.’

It didn’t matter. All that did matter was her current pillow. The man whose heartbeat was too soft and slow to be normal. And yet, despite the slight chill he possessed, he currently served as her personal space heater.

But maybe, just maybe, if she could inch herself out of his hold…

She shifted, preparing to rise as Hand released her face. Fingers digging into the hard sand beneath her. She held her breath.

“I’m not asleep.”

Cheeks aflame, Krista flailed. “Noooooooooooo!” she wailed. “You are! Sleep!” Slender hands pushed off his chest no less than three times, as if she were attempting to convince him he should be resting. After all, she’d been nothing but quiet.

There was no reason for him to be awake!

She skittered back in the dark, promptly tripping over… something. If only she could see!

As she spewed sand from her mouth, the Hunter illuminated the area with his lantern. She almost wished he hadn’t. It was so bright! But, now that she could see, she could clearly see there was… nothing there.

“You mean to tell me I tripped over nothing?” she hissed.

Indeed. That little divot in the sand did seem to mock her. Not that it was alive.

“So!” the girl suddenly exclaimed. Her lips curled upward in a cringe-worthy smile, face burning with embarrassment. “Why was I attached to you like a little… little… thingy?”

D’s reply was succinct. “You moved in your sleep.”

‘So, you did try to make a move on him!’

Cackling laughter bounced about the walls of her brain. She couldn’t say she found it amusing. Only mortifying. “Wow. I am so sorry.”

He watched as she pulled her hood up, ducking her face down to hide as she shrank into the fabric. As though the cloak could hide and disperse her shame. But one lone finger pointed accusingly at him from within the folds.

“To be fair, though, you do make a great pillow and heater.”

The girl must not have much of a brain-to-mouth filter. Not that it bothered him. He merely set about rousing the horse, tending to it in a fashion he’d not had many chances to. Brushing what hair the creature possessed. Ensuring all the parts were functioning properly. And of course, he provided sustenance.

Krista twisted to her feet and moaned contently as D finished. Embarrassment forgotten, she felt fit as a fiddle. Prepared to run laps! Eat a whole horse!

The horse snorted, as if aware of her thoughts.

Perhaps not.

But as D kneeled and packed the gear and grooming tools, she rooted around in the bags for her crackers and remaining apple. Aside from a browning soft spot, the apple was still crisp and tart. The crackers a perfect salty. Although, one might question how she managed to taste anything with how fast she was devouring the food. Faster than the first night D witnessed her eat.

Halfway through, he watched her shudder and toss the remaining bit at the horse, slowly closing the tin of crackers. If he were honest, she looked ready to blow. And while vomit didn’t bother him, he could say he did not want to be the one to clean it off the steed munching on the remaining fruit. He doubted the creature would have appreciated it, as well. Especially not when the horse seemed so proud of his glossy mane and gleaming metal plates.

Just as quickly as it’d come, it was gone. Lips curled in a sheepish smile. “I feel better now.”

“You sure about that, kid?” prodded Hand.

“Yup!” Her hand flapped in a hurried, dismissive manner. “Totally was not about to puke all over the horse!”

The horse snapped its head up with a startled whinny, looking – dare he say – disgustedly at her.

She stared back. “What?!”

D watched as the magnificent creature stood and trotted out of her range, eyeing her the entire time. But unperturbed, she came to him next, eyes alight with mirth. Those unnaturally vivid green eyes, glimmering in the light of the lantern.

At least he knew she was feeling better.

“Have you eaten?”

Had he?

“No.”

The morning before their arrival in Puregon, he’d considered his options as he washed up in the waters by their ‘camp’. Ultimately, he’d felt no need to.

“You should.”

The Hunter could agree with that. But he watched as she inched closer, body quivering with energy. If he had to guess, she was up to no good. Her slender fingers curled, thumbs rubbing against the crooked index fingers. Much like she was preparing to snatch something up.

“You’re not gonna eat, are you?”

At his soft no, she lurched off towards one side, appearing to head for the horse sitting just behind him. Instead, she tottered about before leaping over his head. Honestly, he might have been impressed with her maneuver if not for two things.

One: she took his hat.

Two: her attempt at a graceful landing was pathetic, at best. Although, it probably did not help that the Hunter had driven the heel of his palm into her left shin as she went, knocking her off balance and off course.

Undeterred and with a triumphant shout, she snapped her arms up, prize clutched by trembling digits as she wormed her way to her feet. A quick glance back told her the man was rising, body turned to pursue her and brow furrowed.

Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t have noticed. It was such a slight thing. But now, she squealed with delight and took off like a bolt. This look was nothing like the one she’d received after jabbing him. And she doubted that she’d even view that look in the same light… had she known him at the time.

While she doubted it would help, she started zipping from side to side, a sweeping zig-zag pattern through the sands. Pushing her legs to their limit. Anything to keep ahead of him. She was sure she was failing, struggling and gasping for breath.

Her giggling was not helping.

A voice, soft and lilted, cut through the laughs. ‘Jump.’

She did, watching a figure cloaked in black soar beneath her. With an acrobatic tumble, he leapt to his feet and pivoted. Too late did she realize what happened. The cunning Hunter used her momentum against her, and she could do nothing to stop herself from stumbling into his hold.

No, she didn’t even have a chance to stumble across the ground. She didn’t even finish falling. Just slammed into him mid-descent.

“Damn!” she panted, slapping his beloved hat onto his head. “That was fun! I know you could’ve caught me sooner! Thanks for that.”

He might have let her carry on a bit longer, too.

A mournful howl cut through the night air.

Another.

And another.

He might have, if not for that.

“You didn’t catch me just for shits and giggles, did you?” Krista whispered, voice trembling. But she didn’t need a response. She could see it in his eyes. And if not there, watching his hand grip the hilt of his sword was answer enough.

Dark eyes peered through the heavy darkness. This man was not hindered by the lack of light like the girl in his arms. He, seeing as though it were day, faultlessly tracked the three wolfesque creatures tearing across the sands. Spreading out their formation as they prepared to flank the two travelers. Or go after the horse.

Heaven forbid a bit of metal keep them from a meal.

However, it was a tad strange for shifters to be this far removed from civilization. Perhaps they’d meant it that way. As they circled, however, he couldn’t find it in himself to do more than pity them. As it stood, they were a danger to the girl. Aggressive despite the increasingly choking aura surrounding the man in black.

He would release them from this existence.

“Hold on and don’t move,” he ordered.

While having her attached to him might hinder his movement speed, he was optimistic. And honestly, she was so very light. If she did slow him down, it wouldn’t be from weight. Merely the bulk of her as a whole. And past that, she was so slight of frame.

He pressed his left hand against the small of her back as she complied to his demand. Practically squishing her as she wrapped arms and legs alike about his torso. If she was uncomfortable, at least she was understanding that this was not the time to complain.

There was a moment of calm quiet.

The nearest creature lunged, snarling and chomping at air as the Hunter danced across the sands. Quick to evade the one at his back with another graceful twist of his body and fancy footwork. He leapt, sword lashing out with inhuman precision.

He would take nothing but the finest cut of meat from the finest specimen.

Alright.

The meat from these creatures would be stringy, at best. They appeared to be malnourished, hides stretched across warped bones and ribs one firm elbow jab away from bursting through the skin. And as two desperately chewed upon the flesh he carved from one, he knew they must have attempted to remove themselves from society.

Remove temptation.

Shame that not all shifters could ignore or combat their instincts. Live in harmony with that beast residing just beneath all that was sane. Especially if they were a breed that suffered through cycles of some sort.

And guided by that beastly hunger, the hunk of flesh was devoured in a matter of seconds while the wounded shifter attempted to flee. He gasped and gurgled, frothing at the mouth as he choked on blood. Limbs trembling with each strained step.

“D, please put them out of their misery!” Krista whimpered.

But it was too late for the poor creature. The others descended upon him, jagged teeth easily stripping the meat from his bones. Screeches and gurgling wails filled the night air. The girl in his grasp desperately wished she weren’t, wanting to cover her ears but settling with pressing her face firmly against D’s sternum.

She could barely feel him shift, his hand pulling her just a bit more firmly against him before he was racing off to one side. Past his coat, she could see more of the creatures. Clawed paws tearing across the hard sand. Snarling maws open wide. And here she was, hiding like a babe in this man’s embrace as he lunged and bisected the nearest one.

Unlike with the first one, the pack did not swarm their fallen comrade. The group of shifters circled the travelers, but D did not seem concerned (the same could not be said for Krista). He was not concerned when the circle surrounding them shrank. Not even when a few more joined the pack.

Instead, he stood tall and tightened his grip upon the hilt of his sword. Dark eyes narrowed. He did not wait for the creatures no less than six feet tall on all fours to charge. In a motion blurred by speed, he collided with the shifter at his front. Its ribs collapsed with a sickening crunch beneath his heel, but that wasn’t enough. Its wailing was cut short as D wedged his blade between the twisted bones.

In the same instant, he slung himself and the girl over the dying beast, blade striking the next like the wrath of God. Perhaps, in another life, they could have had a friendlier meeting. A learning experience, even, for Krista. Because, admittedly, this was not the best way to introduce her to the existence of shifters. Not when he was flipping through the air with her clinging to him like a baby koala and the one beneath them was bellowing and screeching in anguish.

Their landing was not one of his most graceful ones, coat snagged by a set of canines aiming for his legs. But it served the same purpose. With a forceful toss of its head, the duo was slammed into the ground. And with a yelp of terror, Krista was dislodged from him.

She disappeared beneath the sand.

At least she was safe, for a moment.

He twisted and rolled, leg snapping up. The maw of the beast bearing down upon him went slack, shoved to one side, tongue lolling about. Without pause, he continued the motion, arm out and head cocked away from it, until he was on his knees.

Maybe keeping his hat throughout this entire ordeal should be considered a small miracle.

The sword in his hand buried itself in the creature’s agape mouth. The others were intent on finding Krista, large paws tearing up the ground. And they did, excited and piercing yips filling the air as one pulled her small body from the sand by a slender leg.

By the time she was screaming obscenities and using the creature as a pin cushion, D was upon it, heel wedged against its bottom teeth and fingers curled around the snout. He kicked and wrenched. With a snap, the girl fell loose.

It seemed there was quite a bit of bone breaking going on this night. But it was effective for at least a few moments.

The beast beneath him collapsed as the remaining six turned their sights on him. Realization crept into their animalistic gaze, softening the eyes hardened by instincts. But for the majority, it did not last. All but one. And that one merely curled in upon itself and loosed a pitiful whine.

D did not bother to scoop up Krista like a babe, assured in their anger directed at him that she would be fine. He cast her a quick look, watching as she pressed a wad of her ugly dress against the gouges in her leg.

Well…

As fine as she could be.

Within the folds of his coat, he pulled five long, wooden needles.

“How considerate,” he heard Krista begin to mutter. “Toothpicks to pick our flesh from between their teeth.”

Silly girl. But her giggling did not distract him from his current objective. Each needle found its mark, burying themselves deep within the furred flesh. The creatures yowled and thrashed, attempting to paw loose the splinters from Hell. Before they could, D drove his sword through the first one and retreated before its blood could dirty him.

Despite her snide remarks, Krista was genuinely in awe of D’s fighting prowess. His display of strength. Speed. “Amazing,” she gasped, watching as the creatures fell beneath his blade. And for a moment, she wondered if she would ever be able to match him. Or maybe it was more of a Dhampir thing?

Either way, there she sat, pressing her ugly dress against her wound.

Making it – dare she say – uglier.

And Gods help her. She was liable to die from all this bleeding.

However, instead of focusing on her possible demise, she turned her attention to the Hunter executing acrobatic leaps and tumbles. Feats of agility she would surely fail at if she ever attempted them. And he was doing so well, striking with his blade as he flitted out of reach of another creature.

But she knew she was a liability. He was drawing attention away from her, putting himself more at risk.

She scoffed.

At risk.

How at risk could one be when one could take a stab to the heart and pop back up like a bloody daisy?

This fact did not stop her heart from lurching with fear as one of the creatures sank its razorlike teeth into the fearsome man’s right shoulder and upper arm. And with his blood dripping from its maw, he twisted the opposite arm around and placed the beast in the most awkward chokehold she’d ever seen. But it was working.

Perhaps chokehold wasn’t quite the term she should use. She could hear the collapse of bones and trachea alike.

‘Well, he is technically chokin’ them.’

“… I suppose he is…”

“Talkin’ to yourself, again, kid?”

She squeaked and jerked, not expecting the Hunter to be literal inches from her wounded leg. “Eh…” Deflect! “You killed them all?”

“All but the one.”

Dimming eyes snapped about, and she found that there really was only one left. The one that had yet to move from its place on the ground, still whimpering. “I really zoned out, huh. You think he’s okay?”

The man did not have to look at the creature to know, using the time to lift her in his arms and head for the horse. “If anything, he is waiting for death.”

“That is really sad.”

“It’s life.”

“Wanting to die or just dying as a general?” she grumbled. “Because one shouldn’t be part of life.”

He was going to respond, but he could hear the sullen beast dragging itself to its paws. While no malicious intent clouded its aura, he was cautious. Krista seemed none the wiser as she began wiggling with excitement.

“I can’t remember if I said it or not, but you’re amazing!”

Seems the shock of the early morning was wearing off.

“I mean, if I tried to do half what you do, I would have been minced meat! But you were just… extraordinary!” the girl gushed. “The way you flipped and tumbled and dodged! With me attached to you like a big ol’ baby! How do you do half the shit you do?!”

The beast was creeping close. They were nearly to the horse and lantern.

Krista’s voice grew conspiratorial. “Could you rip limps off of people or creatures? Kill them before they even know they’re dead?” Realization. “Wait, I kinda already saw you do that.”

Closer, yet closer.

And there was the shift in the air the Hunter had been waiting for.

Teeth once more sank into the flesh of his right shoulder, but not before he’d drawn his blade with his left hand. Which left the girl to flop against the ground.

Perhaps, if she’d paid more attention and had known she’d be in the splash zone, she would have snapped her mouth closed before she ended up with a taste of the man’s blood, his life essence splattering against her face. But how was she to know the beast would continue chewing upon his shoulder? Being impaled appeared to make no difference.

And as D wrestled the beast to the ground in an impressive show of strength, she found herself choking. Sputtering. Attempting to leave the situation as she struggled for breath, no longer paying her shredded, bleeding leg any mind. Had she swallowed some?

She clawed at her neck.

Why did her throat burn?!

That voice, somehow coming across whiskey-soaked now, but still soft and lilting, cut through her panic. ‘Claw at your neck much harder and you’ll be lookin’ like that Riedikke guy.’

The voice wasn’t wrong. She could feel her skin tearing beneath her nails, but…

Gods, it was so painful!

It laughed, hearty chuckles reverberating about her brain. Seeming so at ease, she had to wonder if it was at all affected by the pain. ‘Oh, it hurts, alright! But I’m more concerned with how it tasted!’

Tasted?

Tasted.

It seemed to hit her then. A strong, heady flavor that coated her tongue and left her wanting more. If she could, she might liken it to a port wine. Without the bitter aftertaste that could come with alcoholic drinks.

‘See?! Ain’t that nice?’

It was, but she stubbornly refused to answer the voice. Teeth clenched tight against the burn making a return as she sagged and fell to her knees.

A fog settled about her mind.

She felt strange.

And she was being swallowed whole by this feeling. Delving into a place where blood boiled and the wind howled. Disheartening darkness and raspy noises that left her skin cold and crawling. And the whispers.

‘The hell is wrong with me?’

A bloodied claw came into view, aimed to grasp her throat. It had to be one of the beasts.

She reached up and batted at the limb, scrambling away. But it did not relent, easily restraining her flailing hands as it perched upon her and dove for her neck. And she did the only thing possible at that moment.

The red-haired girl bit down.

Blood flooded her mouth and dripped down her chin. She expected something rank. Something… not this good.

The fog cleared just the tiniest bit.

D.

‘Shit.’

But despite having the girl attached at the wrist, the Hunter was unperturbed. He merely observed as her clouded eyes cleared. She looked downright mortified, swallowing thickly as she pulled her teeth from his flesh. But he didn’t miss the mildly rough passing of her tongue across the abused flesh.

“Sorry,” Krista rasped, flinching. Her throat was raw and she had to wonder if she’d been the one howling. “Don’t know why I licked you like it’d make up for me bitin’ you. ‘s not creepy. Not at all.”

The Hunter merely hummed in response, hauling her to her feet and guiding her across the remaining distance to the horse, fingers clasped over her throat. He was… concerned was as close as he could come to describing the feeling swirling in his gut.

The initial sputtering that came from accidentally ingesting his blood? That he had expected. Perhaps the clawing, as well.

The screeching? The obvious hallucinations she was experiencing? It was something he’d not entirely expected.

Even now, she was slumping over like soggy bread, dulled eyes fluttering shut as she was sucked into a world that left her gasping in terror. But it didn’t start until she’d…

He drew short of the horse but in range of the lantern’s light. Unclasped his bloodied hand from about her throat. 

“Did she just soak up your blood?!”

Hand’s timing was impeccable. And not without merit.

Indeed. All the crimson fluid dripping down his wrist to his hand never made it past her open wound. Even now, he could see the last bit seep into the torn flesh. Like a drain in a sink. Or rain to parched ground.

One question burned on the tip of his tongue.

“What are you?”

Eyes an unnaturally vibrant shade of cornflower blue opened. And she scoffed.

Not even the coming of dawn could take away from the disgust displayed in her gaze.

Chapter Text

November 03, 13,012

She was dreaming, again. The knight in tarnished armor was there. The pale, winged demon, too, with a face eerily similar to the Hunter, but altogether different. Dressed in armor black as pitch that tainted the air and sucked the life from the plants at its feet.

No, there were no flowers this time.

Fields aflame spread their taint.

Skies aflame.

Yet somehow, just as dark as the dripping armor encasing the demon.

She was swept away in a flood of… was it water?

Blood.

She was choking on it. Lungs crying for air but receiving only the clabbered substance. An ocean, filled with stolen life. And the demon was its source. Floating in the near-endless expanse of vermillion liquid.

And she was still drowning, clawing for what she was sure was up. Surely, that light must be the sun.

The moon?

The fires?

She didn’t care. So long as she reached it soon.

But fingers struck glass.

Turned to sludge and collapsed with the force.

Flesh blackening and sloughing off abnormally pliant bone like clay beneath a child’s hands.

And the painfully strong blood absorbed it.

Consumed it.

Phantom fingers clawing.

Tearing.

Devouring.

Left leg.

Left eye.

Panic gripped a failing heart.

Suddenly, she was falling through heavy clouds of smoke. Burning. Choking on fire and almost wishing it was the blood. If for no other reason than to soothe the burn. But something glimmered through the soot surrounding her. A shining beacon, so to speak.

The Tarnished Knight.

He stood tall, feet planted firmly on the ash hanging in the air, armored and adorned head angled down. If she had to guess, he was glaring daggers at the demon beneath the crimson glass. But she didn’t have time to ruminate the possibilities. Her fall was coming to an end.

The ocean rushing to meet her.

If she broke through the heaving glass, would that demon escape? Would he devour her? Rend her flesh and pluck her Soul from the tattered remains of a doll well-used?

The flutter of wings.

---

The Hunter stared at the girl in his arms. Glazed, bright blue eyes stared back.

They didn’t just stare. They narrowed in agitation and she seemed to be studying the air surrounding him. His aura. She clucked her tongue in distaste. “The Prince wishes to know, but the Prince can’t know what isn’t known. Maybe not a Prince. A success? Where does that leave me? An affront to nature. A… not Human? Super Human? Not super. Not…”

She trailed off, eyes unfocused and breath harsh. Body rigid. If it weren’t for Hand’s quiet quip, he might’ve been standing there, mouth agape, shocked into a momentary lapse of character. This was not what he expected when he first saw their blood mix and sink back into her wound.

Not that he’d expected that.

She suddenly went limp, jolting in his hold as he lowered them to the ground. “I’m forgettin’, again. Was I even rememberin’? No. Jus’ sinkin’. Burnin’. Drownin’. Wings o’… starched lace?” Her face scrunched up. “I’m… forgettin’, again. Was I even rememberin’? No. Jus’… sinkin’.”

There didn’t seem to be many dull moments with this girl around. But the entire situation expounded on the idea that she was, indeed, not Human. Even if she was, it was only in part. However, now was not the time to unravel this mystery. He needed to tend to her wounds and –

“We need to get the hell outta Dodge before our friends draw in more!”

Again, impeccable timing, Hand.

But as he drew back, he realized there was no need to fetch the bandages. If not for the blood smeared across her pale flesh, one would never guess she’d been wounded. They might even deduce that it wasn’t hers. And without looking, he could hazard a guess that her leg was likely healed, as well.

Far off in the twilight, he heard a howl.

If these were cycle-bound shifters, there wasn’t much worry. But if they were being drawn in by the carnage, it was likely others would come calling.

Leaving the girl there, D flew through the motions of saddling the antsy steed and securing the lantern. Stuffing her dress into a saddle bag and all but slinging Krista on as he mounted. It wasn’t that he wouldn’t be able to handle the threats coming their way, but…

His dark eyes flickered to the strange girl bouncing limply about as the horse galloped across the sands. He wasn’t about to put her danger-prone self needlessly in the path of more danger. And thus, they flew like a bat out of Hell.

By midday, Krista was flailing and squawking, a slew of curses and disoriented babbling bubbling past her lips. But she couldn’t really help herself, not with the sun decidedly trying to bake her and her mind telling her that she was back in that fiery field, burning alive and wishing she could be swept away with the flood of blood.

Blood that was strong, heady. Filled with spice and vim and vigor.

Something within her craved another taste.

Begged for it.

She didn’t realize the Hunter had halted the horse and dismounted until she realized she was reaching for empty air. Quivering fingers outstretched for the spot D once resided. And there she sat, frozen, before abashedly slapping the extended hand across her face. Rubbing hard and moaning. Head throbbing.

Had she been reaching for the Hunter’s arm? Intending to get that second taste? Or was it third?

‘Bloody Hell. What’s wrong with me?’ She smacked lightly, tongue feeling dry and foreign in her mouth. Nasty. Maybe she just needed a drink. “D?” she croaked. “Do we have any water left?”

An insulated canteen pressed into her clammy hands. And despite the water inside being disgustingly warm, it was still cooler than it could have been given the circumstances. For this, she was grateful. But as her eyes twitched to gaze up at the stoic man, she found herself flinching back. That voice screeching, ‘Don’t trust him!’

‘And why the hell not?!’ she mentally hissed back.

It was silent for a good minute before finally admitting, ‘I can’t… remember.’

Well, there was no way she was going to give up on a good thing without a solid reason. This Hunter was the last person in her life she found she could trust. It was likely she’d be hard pressed to ever lose it. In fact, her mind turned to the previous night. Her mouth filling with blood that tasted so good –

No.

A rough, not necessarily unpleasant, shiver ran down her spine. No, she needed to apologize properly. She passed the canteen back into his hands. “D, I’m sorry, again, that I bit you. I don’t know why, but I honestly thought you were one of those beasts.”

“Think nothing of it,” he murmured.

“Well, I am. And I was thinking… an eye for an eye?”

With an inquisitive hum, he turned around to face the girl still stretched across the saddle. Of all things he expected, the soft brush of her fingers against his lips was not one. He tensed, hand snapping up to grip hers and distance himself.

Surely this girl was not serious?

No. Judging by the determined look in her steadily brightening eyes, she was entirely serious. And despite his almost painful hold on her wrist, she persisted. “Bein’ a Damm… damn… uh…”

“Dhampir,” he supplied.

“Yeah! A damper – “

“Dhampir!” Hand interjected.

“Daaaaammmmpurr…”

“Peer!”

“Dhampir?”

“Gods, yes!”

“… Right. So, bein’ a damper – “

A frustrated screech interrupted her, and she merely chuckled, a mischievous look in her eyes. “Alright. Dhampir,” she stressed. “Anyway, you bein’ one, I figured that… if Nobles drink blood… Well, I haven’t seen you eat anything since we teamed up. You even said you hadn’t. So, if you bite me really, really hard… that will make up for me biting you…”

Krista trailed off, but it didn’t take a genius to see where she was headed with this conversation. And as her small fingertips skimmed across his lips, once more, some dark part of him was certainly tempted by the offer. Teeth aching. Throat burning. Wondering if she would taste as sweet as she smells.

Instead, he metaphorically threw his hunger to the ground and stomped it into the dirt.

“Y’know… perhaps a simple ‘no’ would have sufficed?”

Or, perhaps he literally threw the source of his hunger to the ground?

A grunt and giggle escaped the girl as she struggled to right herself, small hands grasping at his coat and the nearby stirrup. She was weak. And she assumed it was from all the happenings. Maybe she needed to eat, again?

“D, seriously!” the girl moaned. “You gotta eat sometime! Do you filter feed?!”

The Hunter’s lips quirked as he stared down at the girl that closely resembled a petulant child, her crimson hair a wind-whipped mess and near-gaunt cheeks puffed. It was a classic case of the pot calling the kettle black. Krista was so small, and he could almost swear she’d lost a tiny bit more since the beginning of their trip. If anyone needed to eat, it was her.

“Speaking of filter feeding, how do Nobles get blood? Do they have to cut everyone?”

D mounted the cybernetic steed as Hand replied, “Nah, kid. They bite to draw blood.”

“Bite?” she intoned inquisitively, pulling herself up into the saddle but making it no further than her belly. She didn’t seem inclined to sit properly, so he nudged the horse onward once she settled. And she snorted. “I can’t imagine needin’ to bite someone as hard as I had to bite D last night every time I got a bit peckish. Seems like an awful lot of trouble and a big mess just waitin’ to happen.”

The countenanced carbuncle chortled. “They have fangs. Really sharp and long canines.”

“Wouldn’t they just bite themselves? Sounds like a free lip or tongue piercing.”

“I knew you were a bit in the dark, but this is just sad!”

Without retorting, Krista turned her attention to her hand. Specifically, the meaty section betwixt her thumb and forefinger. And after running her tongue across her teeth, she began the arduous task of attempting to draw blood. Chewing at the flesh in an attempt to understand.

It wasn’t even her canines that drew first blood.

Jostled by the horse galumphing over uneven terrain, applying too much force in pressing her hand to her teeth instead of the other way around, it was her hand that drew first blood.

And D could smell it. Fixing her with a disapproving stare, he popped her back. It wasn’t her fault she was so unknowledgeable. If she barely knew of their existence, how could she know the scent of blood could easily send a Noble or Dhampir with a lesser will into a frenzy? How was she to know that offering up her life source, even a paltry amount, could lead to an untimely demise?

But as she twisted to cast him a sheepish, bloody smile, he came to terms with the fact that the girl would likely bring about her own end.

“Kid… Did you really punch yourself in the face trying to figure it out?”

---

Pain. It seemed like it was something she was getting to know a little too intimately. That small throb she easily ignored when she first awoke turned into something ugly. Something akin to the strike of a sledgehammer. And she was certain it was trying to crack open her cranium in a bid to escape.

Hell, she wanted to escape. No amount of eye-covering and face-rubbing helped ease the pain, and even then, her arms were getting tired from holding her hands up. She couldn’t duck into her cloak for too long. It was too hot. The sun’s glare bouncing off the sand was too bright for simply closing her eyes. And with it hanging so low in the sky, raising her hood was no good. Maybe she could just hunch over with her arms braced against her thighs?

“Hurgh…” Nope. Too much pressure.

“You okay, kid?” Hand enquired. It wasn’t hard for him or the Hunter to see she was distressed. But watching as she twitched and whimpered, fingers massaging at her neck, it was almost painful for him.

“I feel like… someone is trying to crack open my skull,” she moaned softly. “The light hurts, too. This is, without a doubt, the worst headache I’ve ever had.” And it was true. She’d never had one escalate this far.

“Sounds like a migraine.”

Another groan. “I suppose. Good thing the sun is starting to set.”

“Not quite yet,” the Hunter breathed.

“But it’s getting… darker?” Krista’s head cocked to one side, and she did well to mask the discomfort the movement brought as she focused. “What is that noise?”

It was a deep, mournful sound that cut through the quiet. A tune one might expect to come of wind rushing by buildings and trees. Of glass wind bells chiming and dead leaves colliding and clattering down a cobblestone street. And the longer she focused on the sound, the louder it got. The harsher it became until it was something comparable to the roar of waves against a rocky cliff in a storm. Cannons firing and houses burning and plaster cracking and walls exploding and –

“Kid?”

The noise was gone, nothing left in its wake aside from the sting of claw marks marring her scalp. And a hand lightly grasping her shoulder.

With a shaky breath, Krista turned a watery smile towards the Hunter. Crimson fingertips trailing down her face until her arms fell limp at her sides. “I’m good?”

He didn’t believe her. It wasn’t difficult to see that hard edge to his gaze, but he didn’t comment. Instead, he cast his attention back to the sands and veered the horse towards an unassuming divot in the landscape. He would thank his lucky stars if this proved to be what he hoped for. If not…

D nudged the beast onward. He would not enjoy running the beast to its death to evade the storm steadily eclipsing the sun.

“Is that… sand?” queried Krista.

Again, not quite.

The horse stamped at the divot, and a thin layer of sandstone crumbled in. And Krista watched nonplussed as the man cloaked in black flew off the back of the creature and disappeared with a loud clatter through the stone. Sand and dust clouding the vicinity.

She waited.

“Did the ground eat you?” she yelled, immediately regretting the action as her head pulsed angrily. But she pushed on. “Because, if you seriously flake out because you went crazy and flung yourself into a hole in the ground…” The girl didn’t say it, but it was high on her list of ‘shit that should not kill this man’. It was just absurd.

However, instead of a response, a shrill whistle pierced the quiet. The horse nickered and pranced in place. Shaking and stretching each leg. With no further warning, it reared back and dove towards the opening in the ground. Like a performer executing a graceful swan dive. But the performer was a gigantic horse.

A behemoth of a beast that decided to practically belly flop into a very dark hole in the earth.

The noise that fled Krista’s mouth as they descended was painful, at best. For her and her companions. And the panicked sound bounced around the shallow cave she found herself in until it petered out into a pathetic, wheezy squeak.

“Welp,” she yelped. “That was… an experience. Glad I’m here.”

She didn’t sound glad.

“Glad I had this experience.”

Sarcasm. This was definitely sarcasm.

The Hunter merely watched as the girl lurched off the horse and peered up at the opening they’d burst through. Skies quickly darkening. And he was, indeed, thanking his stars for this shallow cave. Large enough to house the travelers and the steed, but not so deep he would need to fear something crawling out of the depths of the cave.

Well, unless something burrowed through the earth to reach them.

The probability of that happening was… low.

Maybe.

“So!” exclaimed Krista, face twisted into some awful combination of a grin and grimace. Perhaps just constipated. “What are we doing down here? Spelunking?”

“Evading the storm,” replied the Hunter. Fingers carding through the mane of the steed, he gently guided it further into their dwelling. He could almost feel her curiosity hanging in the air, but instead…

“This is a really cute lizard.”

… What?

“D, what kinda lizard is this? It’s kinda long, and it’s wiggling its tail at me.”

A loud, girly squeal.

“Is it some freaky cross between a dog and a lizard?!”

The man in black was suddenly there, forcibly wrenching the large ‘lizard’ away from the girl. It snarled and snapped at him, but dangling by its striped tail, that was all it could manage. Aside from trailing bubbling acid along behind them.

“Is it a bad lizard?”

“Venomous.”

Hand piped up. “They aren’t usually the nicest thing to have around. And I’m kinda surprised it let you come so close. Maybe it’s sick.”

Coming to a halt at the ‘mouth’ of the ‘cave’, D waited. Head cocked to one side. It would be simple to flick his wrist and kill the creature. But he ran the risk of slinging its venom everywhere. Despite the girl’s inhuman regeneration, he didn’t want to see if she could keep her face from melting off.

Well, maybe a part of him did.

Said girl approached cautiously, once again wearing her ugly-as-sin dress. “Whatcha waitin’ for? I mean, won’t it just run back in on its stubby legs if you throw it out?”

“That’s why we’re waiting on the storm,” supplied Hand.

“But it’s just a sandstorm, isn’t it?” she prodded, starting for the opening to peer out. “What good is that gonna do?”

Before she could get far, a strong hand clamped down upon her shoulder. The quiet howl became a fearsome roar, and he chucked the creature out the cave. Holding the girl still. Forcing her to watch as the sand consumed it. Flesh dehydrating and shredding as it twitched feebly beneath the storm’s wrath.

Mouth agape with horror, Krista skittered back with an undignified squawk. “Yeah! Okay! That’s… gnarly! Now I know why the towns have walls!” Hand shaking, she gave his arm a hearty pat. “I’ll just… I’ll just go curl up in the corner with the horse, now.”

The Hunter watched as she did exactly that, knees pressed to her chest and chin cradled in their created groove. He couldn’t necessarily blame her for her, almost, childlike reactions. But God, help him. At this rate, it appeared he would be teaching her more than her schooling did.

Honestly. Who looks at a girl and says, ‘Keeping this knowledge from her is a good idea’? Who looks at anyone thinking such nonsense? It’s not far from simply signing their death warrant.

Well… he doubted many of them were still alive.

Busying himself with removing the saddle and bags from the horse, D pushed everything to the back of his mind. At least, for a moment. Contending himself with taking stock of their medical supplies and such. Listening to the girl come out of her shell and mutter sweet words to the horse.

If not for the storm now raging outside the cave, it might have been fairly peaceful. A serene atmosphere that he might have taken a moment to enjoy.

He supposed he could still enjoy it.

Parchment marked with possible necessities slipped into the folds of his coat as he settled himself against the cave wall. Positioned to clearly view the opening and keep an eye on his companions. And there he resided as night fell upon the desert, their shelter becoming darker than pitch.

The girl had long gone still, and he was left to assume she was sleeping. Possibly to sleep away her migraine. Even if she was awake, he doubted she would be protesting the dark.

She suddenly stirred. Pushed off from the wall and rose to her feet. Hands clamped down over her eyes as she stumbled across the cave. If he had to guess, she was in pain. An excruciating amount of it.

His hair stood on end, flesh puckered and crawling as he rose to halt her advance to the mouth of the cave. The air was heavy and charged. The closer he stepped to the red-head, the more his skin prickled. The feeling reminiscent to being lightly shocked. Or being too close to the strike of lightning.

Pressing against Krista’s clammy forehead, Hand grumbled, “D, what the hell is goin’ on?”

Honestly, as he pulled the shuddering frame close, he didn’t have an answer for the creature residing in his hand. Only the assurance that he was just as in the dark (literally) as him.

---

“Mama?”

The voice, small and squeaky in an endearing and childlike way, bounced around the tastefully decorated, yet modest, entryway. The beige walls filling her with a sense of warmth. A sense of belonging that could only be described as home.

“Mama?” Krista called, again, taking a moment to admire the round clusters of pink and purple flowers occupying the vase on the table. “What did Mama call these? Rode… Rode-duh-doo… Ron-rons?”

“Din-druhns?”

“Close enough. Now, where’s Mama?”

‘Mama’ was suddenly there, curls the color of midnight bouncing and swaying in time with her hurried steps as she snatched up a small hand and whisked the child down the hallway. Brows furrowed and almond-shaped eyes pinched with worry. But as the child queried where they were rushing to, she remained silent.

A wood door, dark and worn with age, met them at the end of their ‘trip’. And it swung outward beneath the woman’s hand with a painfully loud screech, hinges groaning from lack of use. The room beyond was musty and cool. Dark. Recessed a few steps into the ground, with only leveled earth as the floor. Much like an incomplete root cellar. The woman seemed pleased with its state, however, turning a decidedly grief-stricken look to the small child.

“What’s wrong, Mama?”

The mother still did not answer. Merely smoothed out the pastel pink sundress the child wore and pulled her into a long, too-tight hug. “Remember what Daddy taught you about hiding?” Her voice was soft as she posed the question. A sweet, lilted tone.

And she knew it was a shame that such a sweet voice be warped by sadness. “Yes.”

“Good. I need you to hide behind the crates. And don’t come out for anyone,” she stressed.

“Are you leaving?”

Again, no answer. But she pulled back and a bittersweet smile curled her thin, rosy lips. “Mama loves you,” she breathed. “Bo-”

Anything she’d been about to say was interrupted by a thunderous crack.

The girl watched as amber eyes hardened, and with a soft shove, she was thrust into the storage room. Door slamming shut with an air of finality. And no matter how hard her tiny hands pushed against the wood, it did not budge. Did not give in to her soft sobs. Did not fall to her gut-wrenching wails. “Mama! Please come back!”

Minutes passed. She fell quiet, realizing the door could not be swayed, and threw herself to the ground. Wriggling around in the loose dirt until she was sufficiently covered, her once pretty dress looking like she’d scrounged around in the gutters for a living. From there, she flew to the back of the room and scrambled up the shelving there. Pressing herself into a space that should have been too small. Shoulders pinched uncomfortably between the wall and a crate.

Silence and dust alike settled about the room. In the cramped space, she pulled her knees to her chest. Calmed her breath. Fell unnaturally still as she strained to hear anything within the home.

Thump thump thump thump.

Soft, yet heavy footfalls rushing down the hallway. A distinct bare-skin-against-wood patter with each step. ‘That’s Daddy.’

More silence.

The shelving and crates lurched, the supporting wall heaving just before she heard the roar of… thunder? A cannon?

She couldn’t tell, ears ringing as dust and bits of plaster showered her head. And she cried because she just knew… Whatever defenses Mama had once claimed would keep them safe… She just knew they’d failed. And if they failed, what chance did they stand?

The ringing faded and… dear Gods, it wasn’t ringing.

Screams, sharp and shrill, echoed through the house.

Biting back a whimper, the child pressed her hands to her ears. As much as she wanted to flee, and as much as another voice literally ordered her to bolt, she stayed. Huddled in that small space. Eyes screwed shut as she cowered. Body twisting uncomfortably as she forced herself further into the hole.

She grew stiff, tiny fingers and bare toes going numb.

She knew not how long she hid there, arms slackening until, eventually, her ears were uncovered.

Silence.

But not the comforting silence that lulls one to sleep. No. This was more akin to the silence that falls over graveyards and funeral parlors. Long after the living have vacated.

Not that she could pinpoint that as the same feeling.

A creak. Of old hinges protesting their use.

Slowly, oh so very slowly, she craned her neck just enough to peer through the gap between crates. The door to the room was open. And in its frame stood a mountain of a man, eyes spilling blood light rolling about the room in a jerky, manic fashion. Searching.

This man was not Daddy.

“Baby?”

And despite the voice being Mama’s…

“It’s safe to come out!”

Panic twisted and curled through her. Heart attempting to leap into her mouth. Beat its way out of her chest. Everything in her wanted nothing more than to run. But she willed it to quiet, fingers digging into the flesh above the fluttering organ.

This man, this imposing person…

He sniffed the air, lurching into the room as a cruel smirk curved his thin lips. Head tipping to one side ponderously. “Honey, it’s time to stop hiding.” Closer he stalked, body twisting this way and that to search. Until once at the back of the room, he froze. Lips lifting with a snarl. Bushy brows pulled low with anger.

With a few choice words, he swept far more gracefully than should be possible for a man of his stature out of the room.

A shuddering breath left her as a hush settled over the house, once more. She dared not move, knowing he might not be far, and strained her ears.

Tap.

Her head swiveled around and she stared owlishly at the wall. Closer to the door than her, but still along the same wall as herself.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Closer the raps came.

Tap.

Closer.

Tap.

Closer still.

Tap.

Ta-tap.

Ta-tap.

Ta-tap.

Ta-tap.

So very close.

“Such a strong heart!”

In that moment, her heart felt anything but strong. Lurching to a halt in her chest as the deep, booming voice seemed to rattle the rafters and her fear consumed her. A large hand burst through the wall, debris from the wood laths and plaster pelting her flesh. Burly fingers curled through her hair. Pulling. Yanking her through the hole as she clawed desperately at the shelving and crumbling wall.

“Ah, don’t fight, kitten! Wouldn’t want you to end up like your ma and pa, would we?” the man guffawed, holding her at a distance as she flailed and screamed. And with a gleeful laugh, he lumbered down the hallway, calling, “Brother! I caught the little bitch!”

An almost wiry man dressed in charred flannel and breeches came flying out of the kitchen with a loud clatter, pots and pans scattered across the floor in his wake. He looked… excited as he rushed to meet them. That expression…

Despite being so young, it still made her skin crawl. Nothing good came of looks like that.

“Ho, she is pretty. And so small, too,” he gasped, cupping her chin and leaning in close. “I bet you’ll feel better than that other whore. Sound better. Taste better.”

The child’s stomach churned and clenched in terror as she clawed at the hands holding her aloft. Never mind the throbbing pain brought on by being suspended by her hair, worsened with each jarring kick she aimed at the man before her. She just… needed away!

Away!

Away!

Away!

The men holding her faltered before laughing. And gently, like she was a fragile and cherished doll in need of new clothes, a set of thin fingers slipped beneath the strap of her sundress. Tearing it in two as though it were merely paper.

“Don’t worry, kitten,” he moaned, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to her bared shoulder. “We’re just gonna have a little fun.”

“Riedikke!”

The child slapped into the ground with a painful smack as the men startled like children with their hands caught in the cookie jar. Even with her head wrenched back by the hand still grasping her hair, she could say this was probably less painful. Not comfortable. But at the very least, she didn’t feel like her scalp was in threat of ripping loose from her skull.

Slowly, they turned to view the well-dressed man standing to one side, his fingers hooked in his grey waistcoat. The pale person fixed them with a disapproving stare and ran a slim hand through his sandy hair. “Both of you must be responsible for the mother’s current condition.”

The two holding her captive seemed to straighten and puff up at the accusation. But it was the brute that scoffed and challenged him with, “And what’s your point, Laun? Nothin’ sayin’ we couldn’t do what we wanted with them.”

 “Must I remind the two of you of your orders, Jarrod? Riedikke?” he growled in response. “I am quite certain ‘violate the targets’ was not on the agenda. I’ll be back in half an hour or so. Keep yourselves in line and complete your tasks. Do I make myself clear?”

The brothers, whether by blood or not, scowled and bit out their reluctant affirmatives. But neither moved until the man called Laun disappeared. Their faces twisting with a warped sense of glee as they gazed upon the child, once more. “Maybe we can play a different game,” said Riedikke, tugging her to her feet. Even as she bit and clawed at his arm, he was not deterred. Mind filled with ideas for this new ‘game’.

Through the house he skipped, child and lumbering brother in tow. Past the storage room and beyond the hole in the wall. Into a study dyed vermillion. And with a harsh shove, she sprawled across the floor.

Not that he minded the view that graced his half-lidded eyes. The way her dress hitched up and exposed her legs. Her backside. The way she squirmed –

But he was here for a reason.

As he towered above her, however, the girl found she only had eyes for the blood-stained riding boots just beyond her fingertips. Disregarding the possible danger she was in as horror, winding through her and rolling in her belly, halted any thoughts of escape. “Mama?”

“Yes! It’s Mama!” Riedikke grabbed her head and snapped it back. She needed to see this masterpiece in its entirety! Not just the gorgeous boots. “Look at her! So beautiful, isn’t she?”

The soft-spoken woman was barely recognizable, slouched down in the chair like a sack of flour not quite full. A once heart-shaped face, now bloodied and swollen, stared down at her. Cheeks split open and jaw slack and off to one side. Through the film of red obscuring her vision, she could squint and almost see a hollow smile in that mangled face. And from this angle, she could just barely see the gaping hole in her throat.

Some dark part of her wondered if that was how the Neanderthal acquired Mama’s voice.

However, a larger part of her continued to be paralyzed by fear. Disgust. Eyes landing on the cavernous cavity that once housed the entrails now arranged neatly to one side. Dare she think of it as organized?

No.

Not with the way blood painted the walls and dripped from her belly and –

A soft gurgling filled the air.

The wiry brother moaned throatily, even as the child’s mouth gaped and bile sprayed the floor. “Oh, I do love those noises.” He handed her to Jarrod, slinking over to the mother. “If you wanted attention, all you had to do was ask.”

Back pressed against the larger brother’s chest, the child could see it now. The strangely unmarred chest shuddering, struggling to work lungs that were no longer available. Head bobbing as it struggled to raise.

Another rasping gurgle.

But Riedikke was there to help as the woman failed, his arm curling under her chin until he palmed her cheek and pulled her close. Nose nuzzling the curve of her neck like a lover. Fond and caring. Lips curved in a deceitfully gentle way as his opposite hand, fingers splayed, trailed over her breasts and ribs and plunged into the dark opening with a squelch.

Another.

“Kitten,” he called over the noise, giving her a sidelong glance with those hooded eyes that burned scarlet. “I was thinking of playing a little game of dress-up. I promise, you’ll look absolutely stunning by the end.”

Pop!

The noise that followed could be closely likened to raw meat being crushed under a too-forceful grip, muscle popping and breaking down. Bursting between the fingers. Juices splattering against the counter.

The body in his hold convulsed before gradually stilling.

“Now!” The arm within the body jerked. “I have the perfect shade of rouge for those pretty cheeks!”

And so it began; a macabre fashion show where she was the unwilling participant. Where blood was delicately dabbed against her cheeks until they were rosy. Intestines looped about her neck to the point of choking in lieu of a cloth scarf. Eyes pinned to her scalp to adorn the crown of her head.

The deranged man started detaching fingers for… well, she really didn’t want to know. But she was infinitely grateful when Jarrod said, “Brother, we’re runnin’ out of time.”

Undeterred, Riedikke smiled widely and snapped off one more finger. Just for fun, she was sure. “Well, then this was a good start! Kitten, let’s go visit your old man!”

It was hard to struggle when pinned as she was, body so little and a captor so large. But she continued to flail. Even when she was ready to give up hope. Even as they passed through the entryway, now little more than an irreparably charred and still smoldering crater in the home, she fought, despite seeing the destruction and knowing that if her parents died to these men, so would she.

The ceiling heaved and groaned as they passed. However, not much farther down the hall, they stopped. She couldn’t see past Riedikke to know why he suddenly giggled, manic eyes alight with malicious intent. He swooped down, scooping his prize up from the floor. “Kitten, why don’t you give Daddy a kiss?” he suggested.

Slowly, he pivoted, until she stared into eyes the color of polished emeralds. Or, what used to be polished. Now clouded with death. Rolled back the slightest bit in their sockets. Drooping. Dripping. Fluids marking a path down his gaunt cheeks and square jaw.

She screamed.

One might think that, by now, she might be out of the screeching stage in this nightmare. But seeing her father’s decapitated head and sunken eyes only served to reaffirm what she already knew.

There really was no hope.

Riedikke pulled the head to his chest. Cradling it as he carded his stained fingers through the pale locks. “That wasn’t very well mannered of you,” he said, brows drawn down and lips pouted. “You’d think they’d have taught you better than to greet someone like that.”

“Why?!” she cried, straining all the more to slip free. “Why are you doing this?!”

“Well, you see, kitten,” he started, lowering the head to the floor with care and gesturing for Jarrod to do the same with her. “You’re needed for something.”

His foot drew back, and after a pregnant pause and pointed look, he said, “Your parents were in the way.”

For a moment, the girl thought he might kick her. Body positioned in such a way that it would be so easy. Especially as Jarrod forced her to her knees. But instead, his leg snapped up and came down, the head bursting open much like a melon under too much pressure.

It was then that she realized she was in the perfect position to be bathed in the resulting explosion of gore.

“It was a problem that needed to be crushed underfoot.”

She barely heard him. Instead…

Was that a chunk of brain clinging to her lips?

More bile spewed past her lips parted in horror.

That darker part of her made sure it splattered against Riedikke.

Even as she struggled to see past the tears flooding her eyes.

“Oh, poor dear. Let’s go.”

He twisted a hand through her hair, dragging her down the short stretch of hall remaining by the crimson tresses.

Not that he had to try hard.

She did not struggle.

Fight!

Her body limp.

I don’t want to.

Eyes clouded.

You have to!

Not even seeing the gouges in the wood floor as she was drug across them.

What’s it matter?

Not noticing their halt.

Please!

Not hearing them speak until…

Maybe it’ll be faster this way.

A large hand descended upon her cheek like the wrath of the Gods.

“Ah! There’s our good little kitten.”

The child watched as he shook his hand, bits of crimson hair slipping from his grasp. Ears ringing and eyes shuddering.

“It’s time,” Jarrod chuckled.

“F-for what?”

“For goodbyes.”

The brothers shifted. And behind them, she could see a broad-shouldered torso, dressed in a loose cotton tunic. Arms outstretched and bent at queer angles. Nails imbedded in the floorboards. They kicked the body over.

The scent of charred flesh and tangy blood filled the air, and with a deep breath, Riedikke smiled. “Your old man had a lot of fight in him. Even with his shit ruptured and burning.” He quickly turned his decidedly lascivious smile toward her. “Exciting stuff. Maybe you’d like a closer look?”

It didn’t sound like she had much of an option. But still she screeched out a broken refusal, wide eyes unable to look away from the gaping, gooey mess. Blackened offal and an angry red bubbling and swelling. Flesh still decaying. Still weeping.

And as a pale arm wrapped about her waist, gone was the notion to take the abuse. She whirled. Attacking the man in flannel. Fingers clawing and teeth tearing into anything available. Blood like acid flooding her mouth.

Riedikke laughed, watching the child attempt to maul him. Admittedly, she was doing an impressive job on his arm. He shuddered. “There’s that fight!” he cried, grasping her by the scruff of her neck. “But I insist!”

With a speed that disoriented her, he twisted her around, shoving her face-first into the body’s open cavity.

She flailed, hands scrabbling on the floor and her father’s dead body. Desperation and panic stealing her breath. Horror muddling her thoughts as the chilled viscera pressed into her eyes. Her nostrils. Her lips. Her tongue as her body commanded she breathe.

When she choked and sputtered, limbs growing heavy and movements turning sluggish, she thought for sure this was the end. But the hand on the nape of her neck curled to the front and pulled her up.

She gasped, greedy lungs gulping down as much air as they could muster.

Tears poured down her face.

“Please!” she wailed, voice raspy and strained. Sobs wracking her small body as the man pressed himself closer to her.

In that moment, the child knew not if she begged for an end to the torment or for an end to her life.

“I like when you beg, kitten,” Riedikke breathed. He pressed his hips closer as she continued to plead, the hand not occupied with her tender neck massaging her lower belly. “Laun isn’t back. Not yet. Maybe we can reward you for being such a good girl. What do you think, Jarrod?”

The voice that answered him was not his brother’s.

“I think you should have planned your night better.”

Riedikke slowly turned, casting an innocent smile at the man standing there. “Speak of the Devil.”

Such a noble looking man, truly befitting the name Noble, with royal blue eyes that twinkled like sapphires. He snarled, razor-like canines bared as he stalked forward. Hands curled. Ready to strike if need be. “I warned you, Riedikke. I warned you, and still you attempt to go through with your vile acts. If you weren’t needed, I’d rend the flesh from your bones. Snap your ankles and break all your toes. Take each finger as payment for all of their woes.” Closer Laun crept. “Pluck your eyes from your skull, so that you might never cast that lascivious gaze upon another. And once I was satisfied, I would turn you over to Doctor Edmont, so that you might never use your manhood against another, again.”

While normally one to smile at everything, Riedikke found himself wanting to cower from the Noble before him. Lips turned down in light of the threat from a typically calm man.

Not that Riedikke was one easily deterred.

But as Laun reached out and took the child from his grasp, he stayed his hand.

“Now, your task. I completed mine, so do not expect me to make the mistake of leaving a second time.”

The child flinched under the light hold, turning her blurred gaze upon Laun. “Please…” she sobbed, face feeling tight from the drying blood as she openly cried. “I’ll be good, I swear! Just… please! Don’t let him touch me, anymore!”

“I’m sorry.”

His head tipped down and… that look upon his face…

It was nothing like the one Riedikke had given her. And she knew, he was sincere in his apologies.

That he wouldn’t (or couldn’t) stop what was to come.

She became…

Resigned.

“Kitten.”

The grip on her shoulders tightened. Still, she turned in his hold to face the demonic man. Stomach twisting just at the sight of him. Heaving as he trailed a finger along her jaw.

It did not linger in its exploration, the Noble at her back growling much like a feral dog.

“Fine,” Riedikke huffed. From his pocket, he drew a leather glove, the once pale hide stained and scored with arcane seals and runes. He jerked it on, forming a fist no less than five times until each mark glowed like smoldering coals. Ensuring every miniscule barb penetrated his flesh and fed the symbols.

“Little kitten, who knows when you’ll remember this. Who knows if you ever will? But we’ll be back for you. In fact, we won’t be too far. We’ll practically be neighbors!” He tapped her nose, making a soft ‘boop’ noise.

She might have laughed at the gesture if it’d been done any other time. If her parents weren’t mutilated heaps of flesh. If she was oblivious to his true nature.

She almost did. Because to see this side of the maniac…

If she squinted really hard, he looked almost like he could be a wacky uncle.

But he turned that disgusting grin upon her, once more. Fingers housed within the archaic glove trailing over her tender scalp. “Oh! I thought those had fallen out!” He paused in his mission to briefly tweak the pins still imbedded in her scalp. “And don’t get your panties in a twist, Laun. I’m just removing them.”

He did.

Slowly.

Painfully.

Only satisfied when she was whimpering pitifully and Laun looked ready to kill.

“There! All done!”

And as he ran his gloved hand over the bleeding marks, even the child looked eager for his life. Vibrant, two-toned eyes narrowed and lips drawn up over her teeth. He smiled and pressed on.

If she had to describe what it felt like he was doing, she might say she was on the receiving end of a massage given by a hot, stone hand. Tapping and pressing. Kneading the flesh and growing warmer.

Warmer.

Scalding.

The child made to flinch back.

She couldn’t.

Muscles cramping and going rigid.

“You’re forgetting.”

Her vision swam and…

Where is…

No.

“I said forgetting. No fighting.”

No.

“Forget your troubles and sink into that dark abyss.”

An ocean stretched before her.

Dark.

Darker than dark.

A void.

“That’s it, kitten. Let it wash over you.”

It looked so calm.

Comforting, but…

I’ll drown.

I’ll…

The water rippled and heaved.

Climbing and twining about her legs like clingy ivy.

No!

The waters receded.

“Naughty child. Don’t you want to forget this nightmare?”

Yes… no…

…

No!

“Then maybe, someday, you will remember, again.”

The waters rose.

Spiraling into spires higher than she could see.

“If you play your cards right.”

The columns curled inward.

Points emerging from the dark.

Converging.

Pressing into her scalp.

“Until then…”

They penetrated her.

It hurts!

Wriggled like maggots in her mind until…

“Forget.”

---

In the dark of the cave, a single rune burned like dying embers upon the girl’s forehead.

Chapter Text

The Hunter shook his head, almost as if he could shake loose the ringing in his ears as her wails reverberated about the enclosed space. He still held her, now kneeled upon the ground with her arms tucked against her sides. Effectively ceasing the clawing she’d started.

Halting the shed of his blood. Her blood.

It still trickled down her forehead. Flung every which way as she thrashed like an animal caught in a trap. Her eyes wide but unseeing. Chest heaving as she struggled for each panicked breath. Stomach juices and saliva dripping past parted teeth and onto his arm. Not that he minded. Nor did he mind her fingers spasmodically digging into his thighs.

How long did he stay crouched there? Arms encircling the small woman gradually growing rigid as her muscles fluttered and constricted. Perhaps only a quarter of an hour. But he could feel the shift in the air. That charged feeling steadily giving way to the soft serenity that typically surrounded the girl as the smoldering rune faded.

A horrifying mixture of laughter and sobbing abruptly erupted from her. Her body rocking in his hold with the force of each vocal expulsion of air.

This was anything but serene.

Perhaps he’d been thinking of someone else.

But this girl in his arms… she continued her laughing and her wailing as the scene faded like a bad dream. The sour smell of her bile shortening each breath and only serving to heighten her hysteria. She knew! She knew there was a reason why that bastard –!

She retched.

Loudly. And fell into another fit.

A soft grumble filled the air.

Was that… a growl?

A purr?

And something warm and soothing slid across her eyes. A hand. Pulling her head back until it rested against an armored chest that vibrated and rumbled, a calm settling about her mind. Her body. Perhaps not her Soul, but she felt so… at peace. If only for a moment.

“What did you see?”

Oh.

His voice was… so very soothing. And she’d almost started to…

“Forget…”

Another burble of giggles poured from her mouth.

“I… forgot! I forgot! But now I know! Laun! And that… man! That son of a bitch!” Her breaths were coming too quick, again, rushing in and out like the ocean waters during a storm. Eyes rolling as she began seeing things that no longer existed. “And if I could! I’d go back! And I’d make him suffer sevenfold!”

That unhinged, howling laugh erupted from her throat, once more. And again, that rolling noise was there to tamp it down. Almost a soothing balm for her fracturing psyche.

“What did you see?”

But it throbbed like an angry wound at the question.

In the same moment, she couldn’t help but feel compelled to answer him. And she was almost unwilling to fight the feeling. Not when he was shifting them back, hands pulling her close to his breast much like a swaddled babe. Not when, in that moment, she felt safe.

So, with a soft sob, she delved into parts of the memory she deemed relevant. Vague renditions to gloss over as much as possible. Her fingers squeezing the firm flesh of his thighs because it was still the only thing the bloody digits could worry. Especially when her breath came too fast or too harsh. When her stomach rolled and cramped. When she finally asked, “What were my parents in the way of? What could have possibly made them deserve… that?”

The Hunter did not have an answer for her. He merely shifted until the shuddering girl was nestled against his side, finding himself partially unsatisfied with the faux farmer’s demise. This girl… While rape wasn’t necessarily uncommon, some Nobles truly took the cake. Low enough to consider children and twisted enough to make some sexual deviants seem tame.

A shuddering sigh escaped the girl as she scrubbed her face semi-clean with her sleeves.

“Welp. At least my head doesn’t hurt anymore. But I should probably… clean that up.”

She didn’t move. As drained of energy as she was unwilling to ponder how she could see the gloopy pile of sick in the deep darkness of the cave. Unwilling to discover why she could see anything.

“Any minute now.”

A handful of minutes passed with her staring blankly ahead before D stretched out one leg, kicking loose sand at the small pool of bile. The smell to begin with was not horribly pungent, but at least now, soaking into the fine grains, it was all but gone.

“I guess that works, too. Still gotta move it outta the way.”

Another bout of silence and dead staring.

Slowly, she slunk down. Stretching out and wiggling her foot at the pile until it scattered from an errant twitch.

“Poop.”

It was the Hunter’s turn to sigh, the action little more than any other exhalation. “You should sleep.”

“Don’t wanna,” she pouted like a petulant child. And while she shrank under his piercing stare, she would not give in. Instead, she stretched out a hand and pawed at his cheek, attempting to lazily turn his gaze away. Had she not been unnerved by the look in his eyes, she might have laughed at the smooshy-face this gave him.

No. No laughing happened when his hands came in to cup her face. Left hand pressed to her temple. Right hand ensuring she could not look away. Her face scrunched up in confusion and, perhaps, just a bit of fear, the memory still a raw, festering wound. But… she trusted him. So, if he wanted to play, she would.

Her other snapped up, pushing at his cheek until his lips pursed. “Squishy-face!”

Error.

D.exe has stopped.

“Squishy! Face!”

She smooshed his face more.

Ah.

Slowly his hands came together.

“Harder.”

Closer.

“Harder!”

Every bit of her face was puckered up before she was satisfied, eyes squinted and lips unable to close. But still she laughed and exclaimed, “Sqwooshy-fehs!”

It was settled.

She was definitely a child at heart.

A very… sheltered child.

Who else would dare attempt to get away with doing ‘squishy-face’ to the fearsome Hunter?

“Best! Face! Ever!”

Cue a timely eyeroll.

But, if it helped cheer her up and take her mind off things... Again, he couldn’t blame her.

Much.

“Sleep,” he breathed. With a diminishing chuckle, her eyes rolled back. Arms falling limply to her sides as she did exactly that.

There was a beat of quiet as she softly snored.

“I assume,” Hand started, “that you want a look into whatever she saw?”

In answer, D slid his left hand around. Pressing the palm firmly into her forehead. With no further prodding, the countenanced carbuncle delved into the depths of her psyche. Dragging them deeper and deeper. Down until he floated in a sea of information. Watching her memory crawl by and analyzing each aspect of it until he was left with a better understanding.

Some answers.

More questions.

Hand pulled back as they slammed against that fuzzy, black wall, once more, tiny face twisted into a scowl. “Deplorable bastards,” he spat. “No wonder she was acting odd around that guy. But the differences between Laun of Puregon and there. It’s like night and day.”

D hummed in agreement, standing to sweep the vomit-soaked sand off to one side before situating himself by the horse.

“Y’know… I want to think that Riedikke guy dying is what caused this. But I’m not so sure,” Hand murmured to himself once the Hunter was settled. “Because, if it was that… wouldn’t she have remembered everything immediately?”

Again, however, the man in black had no answer. Sword at his side. Propped against the saddle and bags as he thoughtfully observed the crimson-haired girl.

In time, darkness sucked him down, visions of a feral Krista muddying his thoughts.

---

It was cold.

A testament to the harshness of the desert and a sure sign of the approaching winter, the chill that settled about the chamber did well in waking Krista. Her body shaking as she wiped a line of drool from her chin and headed for D.

Or more importantly, the bags he rested upon.

Specifically, a thermal blanket.

She silently thanked the Gods that she could still see enough to dig like a mad rat and that he wasn’t laying on it. But as she wrapped up in the one blanket, she quickly realized that… it wasn’t helping. Determined, however, she collapsed in her previous spot and rolled herself up tighter.

This did little to halt the invasion of the chill. If anything, she felt colder.

With a pathetic whine, she resigned herself to her fate.

She would leech the heat off D.

Still rolled up in the blanket, she wriggled like an inchworm over to the Hunter. Scooting awkwardly closer until she came within touching distance of him. Wondering how he could be so unbothered by the temperature.

Head cocked to one side and lips pursed, she studied him, once again unaware the look was being returned.

Perhaps he wouldn’t mind? But… she was doing this consciously this time.

‘Gods, help me.’

‘Pfft. You wish. Just you, me, him, and his hand.’

She was quiet for a moment too long. “Why do I feel like I’m missing something?”

Her answer? Something she’d come to expect at this point. A boisterous laugh that bounced around in her mind. Taunting her and, for a reason she couldn’t fathom at that moment, bringing her comfort. So, with an ungraceful flop and a too loud grunt, she shimmied in close to D’s side.

Immediate relief.

And she was asleep before she could finish apologizing for the intrusion.

November 04, 13,012

“Too warm!”

She’d never been to a sauna. But as sweat dripped from her brow, she imagined it might feel something like this. Panting, she snapped up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Taking the moment after to let them trail lazily over the man at her side. Fingering the edge of his coat that he’d somehow encompassed her with.

Outside, the storm still raged.

And while the wall of sand blocked a good deal of sunlight, the area was bright enough to accommodate her eyes. The breeze doing well to cool her as she stood from her ‘nest’ and folded the blanket. Not that she really wanted to. However, there was no need for her to be clingier than she already was. No need to encroach upon the Hunter’s personal space more than she did.

‘You keep stuffin’ that thing and it’s gonna pop.’

Too right, the voice was.

She’d been attempting to shove the blanket back into the bag without thinking. Now, the saddlebag was more reminiscent of a poorly and overly-stuffed teddy. Seams looking ready to burst. Made one wonder how he managed to pack it in the first place.

‘Just leave it.’

Hanging half out of the bag, she did, and fell with an overdramatic sigh to her rear. Or perhaps groan was a more suiting description once her fingers found her hair. The tangled, matted, crusty, tacky mess making her lips twist in disgust.

And simply dragging her fingers through it wasn’t helping. In fact, it was probably exacerbating the issue.

“Fine! Fine!” she hissed, hands flung into the air. “I’ll just be nasty!”

Not that they had the water to spare for a good cleaning, anyhow.

So, there she sat, grumbling. Waiting for the Hunter to show signs of life. Almost wishing there was something she could do. But then, when was the last time she’d had a day where she did not need to run? When was the last time D had been able to just… rest?

She was sure the man lived a life on the move. Maybe that was why he was still asleep.

With a shrug, Krista dug her pointer finger into the sand and drew. Idle drawings marking the ground. Filling the space surrounding her. And she only stopped when the muscles in her back were stiff and her legs were numb.

Also when faced with her embarrassingly cartoonish renditions of her traveling companions and other figures.

Worming her way to D, she called his name.

No response.

Worry clawed its way to the forefront of her mind. If she had to guess by the amount of light now filtering through the clouded air, she’d wager it was sometime around noon.

“D?”

She chewed on her lip and eyed the Hunter. He looked… ‘Deader than dead.’

‘The deadest of dead.’

She’d yet to really catch the man sleeping. Perhaps he was just a deep sleeper?

‘Real deep sleeper.’

“You’re not helping!” Krista suddenly exclaimed.

‘Not tryin’ to,’ the voice quipped. ‘But you could try kickin’ him.’

“Nah. I’ll give him a few more hours.”

And she did.

Barely.

Perching above him as the allotted time came and passed.

But still, he did not rouse.

If he breathed, she could not see or feel it.

If his heart beat, she could not hear it.

Brows scrunched with concern, Krista called his name. Hand’s. Yelled them, her hands gripping his coat.

‘Stab him,’ the voice supplied. ‘If he wakes up, great! If not… Well, you’re one step closer to puttin’ him out of his misery.’

“How about… I pinch him.”

‘With a knife.’

“With my fingers.”

‘Killjoy…’

With a soft hum, Krista snatched up his hand and shook herself. Mentally preparing to pinch the ever-loving bejeesus out of him. “Maybe he’s just sleeping. Maybe this’ll wake him. But then again, he doesn’t seem to be fazed by much.”

With a terrified squeak, she squeezed her eyes closed and acted.

…

‘That… what you’re doin’ right there… that isn’t enough to even squish a fly.’

“…Crap.”

‘Just get it over with! Like rippin’ off a bandage!’

“Wait, kid! Don’t!”

But it was too late to heed Hand’s hoarse warning.

Almost without her bidding, the fingers of her left hand had already clamped down on the flesh. Violently pinching and twisting the skin. In the same instant, a grumbling growl filled the air and normally onyx eyes spilled a malevolent blood light.

The air rushed from her lungs. Sharp, jarring pains racing down her spine and through her skull. Through her neck. Stars sparking to life in her dark vision as dust clouded the air and pebbles plummeted from the cave ceiling. But through it all, she could see those burning coals. Irises framed by narrowed lids almost brighter than she could stand.

She’d goofed. She knew it by then.

And Gods help her. She was going to die in this hole because she decided to wake the Hunter and she couldn’t breathe and he was above her and poised to strike and –

Pale hands encircled her throat, but they did not tear or claw. Did not squeeze. Fingers merely prodding at the quickly bruising skin and tipping her chin up until the damage could be surveyed. But as he did this, only one thing went through her mind.

“We’re not… dying!”

Oh, that sounded horrible. Like she was eighty years old and she’d been chain smoking and shooting whiskey since she was ten. Maybe missing a lung. Or just terrible asthma.

Another wheeze. Her chest heaving with the effort.

Had she the energy, she might have been clutching at her throat and sternum.

Or slapping at the Hunter.

He was the whole reason all this happened!

“If you sleep… this deep… all the time…” She paused, panting for a moment. “Well… it’s no wonder… you barely sleep…”

“Sorry, kid,” Hand murmured as D continued his prodding. “I was gonna warn you but… I took the opportunity to catch some sleep, too.”

The probing digits coaxed her forward. “I apologize. This is not a common occurrence.”

A strained braying filled the air.

It wasn’t until the Hunter fixed her with an almost worried stare (he had, after all, just attempted to murder his client) that he realized she was laughing. Lips lifted and eyes crinkled in her mirth. Despite how the action surely pained her.

“I hope not!” With tears beading in her eyes and her breaths coming short, she gasped, “Next time… you look deader… than a doorknob… I’ll just not… and say I did!” Indeed. She reckoned she would not be inclined to disturb the man’s sleep in the future.

But at the same time, she couldn’t help but wonder. What had caused this? Some sort of Dhampir thing?

“You could say so.”

She startled. Cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

“Yes, you said it aloud,” the Hunter answered before she could ask. His right hand rose to eye level with her, fingertips greased up in a salve she never noticed him fetch. However, with his packing skills, she wouldn’t have been surprised if he kept it on his person. “Don’t move.”

It went on cool. Tingling and smelling much like a menthol compound. Or a mint. Something else that her nose couldn’t pick up. But at least the act of him rubbing it on was nice. Soothing. Calming. And already, her breaths came a bit easier. “That’s nice.”

While they sat there, D’s hand continuing to gently massage the greasy substance into her neck, she listened to the Hunter and the countenanced carbuncle explain what had happened. That this really was a rarity. A result of multiple incidents stacking and compounding until he was forced to rest.

Krista interjected, “The deepest of rests!”

Indeed.

And he was content to continue their talk of the sleep (dubbed the Deadening by the girl) until he eyed the ground marred by her drawings. Some looking… okay. Others appearing… well, they looked like they were suffering and needed to be put out of their misery. The debris scattered over the area likely did not help.

Despite all the different faces staring up at him, he only had eyes for one.

“What are you starin’ at?”

He briefly gestured at the countenance. Fingers itching to further ruin the drawing. Obliterate it. Ensure it could never cast its gaze upon him, again.

“Oh… um… Why? It’s not that great.”

“Where have you seen this face?” D queried in turn, eyes narrowing and flashing dangerously.

Her mouth fell open, prepared to answer. However, she snapped it shut with an audible clack once she realized she had no good answer. She almost replied that it was him. But, no. She could see his portrait set a few inches to the side. And the closer she looked between the two, the more she saw wrong,

“I’m not sure,” she eventually mumbled. “A dream? From yesterday?”

The memory was slipping through her fingers like rainwater. She just couldn’t place where she’d seen it. Not until she remembered thinking that the demon looked much like her companion. But wholly different in the same instant.

“Yeah… I saw that face yesterday. I guess I passed out?”

The Hunter was not sure that was exactly what the girl did, but he supposed it was close enough.

“He was in my dream. Kinda. He looked like this!”

From the fairly drawn head sprouted a network of root like structures.

No. That was a stick body.

With stick wings.

“You draw the face, but you can’t be bothered to draw a proper body?” Hand quipped.

“Yeah, well! I’m lazy and I can never get the proportions down! And I’ll prove it to you!”

Oh.

She proved it, alright.

“Those are clubbin’ hands!”

“I told you!”

“Kill it! Kill it with fire!”

D, body tense and jaw working, brought his right hand down and brushed it out of existence. For a good minute, all were silent.

“So… What’s the deal with the face?”

The man in black did not answer. Fingers clawing the dirt before he cast a dark look upon the girl. “Do you recall anything you said after you bit me?”

She had to admit, the look was a tad unsettling. And she wondered what made her garner his… dare she call it ire? “I honestly don’t. Not after I apologized. Just that I was walking to the horse with you and then… I wasn’t. I was waking up after my dream. Why?”

“He has been gone for a very long time,” Hand supplied after a terse silence.

“Oh.” What more could she say? “I’m sorry that I don’t remem-ow! What the fudge?!”

Midsentence, the Hunter had stretched out her arm and took a dagger to her upturned palm. And as she stared nonplussed at D, clutching the wound, he drew the blade across the flesh of his own palm. With no further warning, he clapped their hands together. Squeezing her hand so tight, she feared something might crack.

For a moment, she wasn’t in the cave with a ‘friend’. She was back in Puregon with an imposter. And it wasn’t something she wanted to associate the Hunter with.

“D, that bloody hurts!”

With a snap, their hands came apart. The sudden release flinging Krista back. But there she lay, eyes steadily glazing over until the Hunter knew she was out of it. Breaths short and panicky. Her fingers twitching as if she were grabbing for something.

Predictably, however, that electrifying blue engulfed her irises. Swiveling about the area until they regarded the Hunter with an air of disgust. “The Hunter. That Man. Can he be called a Man? Dressed in blood and birthed from the very depths of Hell. His son no better. And here he is with this failure. Ready to strike ‘em down like beasts for the slaughter. Is that it? Just a beast? A purpose no bigger than to feed… And burn.”

For a moment, the Hunter might’ve thought she was disintegrating before his very eyes. But as he blinked to clear his vision… no. He’d been staring too intently. With a lurch, he came closer to her. Brows furrowed as something akin to dread settled briefly in his bones.

“Go away!” she hissed, gnashing her teeth. “You’re the same! You’re… He’s… Dammit!”

It seemed this was the end.

That it would play out much like before.

Where everything slipped through the cracks. Flitted away with the breeze. Sank into the rising tides. “Drownin’. Burnin’. Sinkin’ further an’ further. It’s all the same. Can’t remember for all the forgettin’. An’ the cause? Fuckin’…”

She was gone. Eyes fluttering closed as her curse petered off into a soft snore. Muscles jumping and jerking.

D leaned back on his haunches, regarding the sleeping girl with an understandably severe stare. But in the end, what could he do?

“Creepy, isn’t it?” Hand chortled. “Kinda makes me wonder what she sees. Did you have anything in mind when you did that? Because I think you scared her half to death!”

“I was thinking of Doris and Dan,” he replied.

“Then, what she’s seeing can’t be controlled, it seems.”

It would appear that way.

But there he left her, taking a moment to cushion her head before retreating across the cave. Sinking into his thoughts and pondering the possibilities.

It was night by the time Krista roused, spewing profanities in the same fashion as the previous day.

But this time, it was directed solely towards the Hunter. Eyes alight with anger. Hurt. Betrayal. Shining brightly in the dark of the cave until… nothing. They dimmed, and she turned from him.

‘I warned you, didn’t I?’

Krista did not respond.

What could she say? The voice wasn’t right.

But it wasn’t wrong, either.

November 05, 13,012

Morning came. The storm was gone.

At least, outside it was.

The crimson-headed girl had not shifted much through the night. Not for comfort. Not for warmth. Rising stiffly from her spot only once the day’s light crept into the opening of their shelter. She breathed not a word aside from a grumbled query of their estimated departure time. And she could hardly bring herself to look into the Hunter’s face.

No. That dead stare was focused almost wholly upon the flesh of her palm. Flesh that no longer bore the evidence that it’d been sliced open in a quick, clean motion.

If she were honest, she wasn’t sure what upset her the most.

Because, don’t misunderstand, she wasn’t oblivious to the fact that D was not checking on the wounds she’d had merely a week ago. Or even from three days ago. But watching the flesh split beneath his blade and waking to it sealed? She had to wonder why it’d not struck her before.

And even as her fingers worked themselves under the bandages stretched across her back, she wondered how she’d overlooked the lack of pain. Fingers worrying the exposed stitches still in her leg, but no longer serving a purpose.

Maybe that impersonator… Riedikke… Maybe he was right in what he said.

‘I really am a freak.’

‘Nah… Well. Maybe.’

If this voice kept floating around in her brain, that ‘maybe’ would be a ‘definitely’.

She clawed out the black bits of thread while she waited for the Hunter and thought. Not that it mattered. What was a little more blood spilt when you’d never know it later?

Really.

What was a little more spilt?

“Kid.”

She jumped. Like a child caught wrist-deep in the off-limits candy bag.

“It’s time to go.”

Oh.

Fingers dug into the nearly-healed flesh before falling to her side.

“Okay. Coming.” And as she rose, she supposed her mood came from a combination of things. If she were Human, she shouldn’t heal so fast.

‘I’m an ‘affront to nature’.’

Apparently, she couldn’t be graced with a proper label.

‘What good am I to them? What use am I to him?’

A wonderous pair of questions. She was just… her. Ditzy, hare-brained her. Granted, she managed to pull off some pretty impressive feats upon occasion, but she wasn’t consistent enough to be of much use.

Not in grand schemes.

‘What the hell am I doin’ here?’

Not in keeping her hand from being slit open. Or staying out of trouble.

But her biggest problem?

While she thought she should be, she wasn’t really mad at D for flaying her palm. Upset? Yes. He could have warned her or explained his intentions! And why smack their hands together after the fact? Didn’t he know how much of a health hazard that was?!

Okay.

Never mind.

She was pissed.

‘But I’m sure he had a reason.’

Still pissed, though.

And as they traveled for the next few days, she stayed that way. Angry at the world and struggling to maintain that state of mind. The day they’d left the cave, it’d been easy. The second day? Still fairly easy. The third? She’d struggled. But self-hate was a wonderous thing. The voice was eager to stoke the fire, as well. But the fourth day? Gods, she just wanted an explanation or an apology! Maybe both.

The last day, as they passed from pale sands to dry shrubs and equally pale grasses, she found herself indignant. Confused. Tired. And more than happy when night came, because night meant stopping, stretching, and possibly getting over herself to talk to the Hunter now that she wasn’t irate. Now that she’d had time to think.

Like the graceful thing she was, she flopped out of the saddle and scrambled to her feet. Eyeing the man a tad too intensely as he tended to the horse. Only once he finished and was hefting the saddle and bags onto his shoulder did she call out to him. She had to wonder why she was so anxious. “D?”

He gradually turned, eyes flashing in the dark. Awaiting what she had to say.

“Do you have any diseases I should know about?!”

His brows arched the slightest bit. Not even enough to be noticeable in the dark. But based upon the flush overtaking the girl’s face, she seemed just as surprised it came from her mouth as he did.

“I’m sorry. Not what I meant to ask.”

Behind him, the horse nickered. Appearing almost amused as Krista floundered.

“Wait… can you catch the not-dead dead genes from someone?!” Boisterous laughter filled the air, and Krista stomped her foot. “Hand, stop! I’m serious!”

“It’s too late,” D started, hardly needing to raise his voice to be heard as he deposited his load.

“What do you mean it’s ‘too late’?!”

No answer. Only more guffawing from the countenanced carbuncle.

“D! You’re both being turds!”

Another moment of unbridled amusement came to pass before the Hunter gradually clenched his left hand. Stifling the laughs and signaling for his companion to quiet. To Krista he said, “I apologize. I should have warned you of my intentions.”

“Or you could have just… not done it at all,” she grumbled, not surprised when he inclined his head in affirmation. “But, I guess I understand. You were… seeing if I’d dream, again? Of the man?” Another nod.

With a soft sigh, Krista slumped forward. Understanding and relief washing over her. And she couldn’t help but laugh in the voice’s metaphorical face. “Okay. So, yeah. I get it, and I am half sorry I woke up yelling at you. But before you test something, again, please tell me. You just… coming at me was a little much.

“And, just so you know, I did dream. It wasn’t much different from the last. Still had that winged demon in it. Bloody creepy thing.” She didn’t elaborate, merely muttering about looping dreams and rotting teeth.

But when she fell silent, he did not press. Instead, he pulled out the lantern and, flicking the thing on, calmly explained that he had no diseases she could catch. Not without a conscious effort and some attempted neck-bites.

“Where on the neck? Here?” She poked the center of her throat, shifting her finger at his ‘no’ until it rested at the hollow of her throat. Another negative. Another shift. This cycle continued until the Hunter pressed his finger against the side of her neck, just over her artery. And with a loud squeal, she imploded. Shoulder snapping up and head twisting down so violently she shouldered herself in the face.

“Heh… I guess anyone looking for a snack might be hard pressed to bite me.” Eyebrows waggling and lips stretched in a wide smile, she squirmed. But made no move to straighten up. “So, if you could move your hand away, that’d be great.”

He shifted.

Her cheekbone dug harder into his hand.

“Just… pull really fast?”

Possibly not her best idea. Such strength. Much speed. Wow. She didn’t think she’d ever hit the ground faster. World shifting from upright to downright wrong in the blink of an eye.

‘I don’t know. I think you flew across the cave faster than this.’

Above her, the Hunter extended a hand. Fully prepared to assist her up. But in response to both, she laughed and said, “You know, this is actually pretty comfortable. Rub burn aside. I think I’ll just stay here.”

So, he left her. Fingers deftly unhooking the sword and its sheath from his back as he turned off the lantern and sank against the saddle in the sandy grass. And he watched. Watched the stars shift and twinkle. Watched the horse collapse with a deranged whinny, legs flailing as it wiggled about on its back before falling eerily still. Watched the girl eventually flip over to stargaze after worriedly observing the beast from a distance.

He’d not slept since the cave, and after he observed the surroundings, his aura stretching to encompass the area, he figured it wouldn’t hurt to. So, as he sank into that realm between wakefulness and sleep, he paid no mind to the girl gradually shifting. Letting everything he’d taken in since the beginning of their adventure swirl about in his mind until he came up with a plan that would surely give them some answers.

And Krista was content. Mostly. Fingers carding through filthy tresses. Snagging on knots and leaving her with the wholly-encompassing sensation of disgust. Perhaps she could ignore it if she stargazed a bit more? Or just slept?

But sleep did not come.

Instead, she turned her gaze upon the heavens, once more. And something within her trembled. Terrified and anxious. A general sense of unease settling in her very Soul as she gazed up at the infinite space stretching before her. Shaking her to the core.

‘That’s new.’ Perhaps she was just having an off night.

Her eyes snapped down, focusing on the dry grasses as she took a steadying breath. The effect was immediate. A calm like no other sweeping over her like a dense fog even as her nails bit into the flesh of her arm.

She drifted. Unaware of how long she floated in that purgatory the Hunter knew well.

‘Maybe short hair would be better.’

Ideas that invaded your thoughts while dozing had a tendency to sound either painfully stupid or incredibly brilliant. One could guess where this idea landed as Krista, eyes firmly closed, sat up. A slender hand trembling excitedly as it grasped for her daggers and pulled one free.

Crimson painted the ground as she worked, cutting with unskilled hands until her hair curved with her jawline. It was choppy. A mess of uneven lengths. But she was pleased with how the disaster felt against her fingertips.

It would be okay. Sure of it, a smile stretched across her face as she brushed aside the fallen hair. She stretched out on her belly and, sleep descending upon her, that voice she was far too accustomed to whispered, ‘You’ve lost your damn mind.’

‘Maybe so…’

November 10, 13,012

The soft light of dawn spread across the land. In the distance, desert birds squawked and hopped. Reptiles chittered and hissed. Air chilled, but not frigid. The morning was calm.

“What the fudge?!”

Was.

Because, apparently, his charge decided that now was the time to sing him the songs of her people. And what better way to wake the Hunter? A man built to kill and not easily startled. But in the time it took her to blink, he was standing with his blade drawn. Detecting no danger but well aware that stranger things had happened.

Who’s to say that, one day, someone or something wouldn’t find a way past the Hunter’s sharp senses?

This was not that day, and with a near-silent sigh, he sheathed his sword and settled it upon his back. This girl… oh, this girl. Eyeing the strands of hair surrounding her and clutched in her fists, it wasn’t hard to see the problem. But for clarification, he asked, “What happened?”

Her voice, though flat, relayed just how distressed she was. “My hair grew back overnight.” Before he could ask the reason, she continued. “I got upset over how dirty my hair was and I had the thought that it’d be better short.”

Her nails dug into her upper arm, once more. Scratching and digging at something he could not see. With little more than a quiet hum, he began searching for something.

“You know, I figure some people might kill for the ability to grow long hair that fast. I mean…” She trailed off for a moment, staring at the hair draped across her folded legs that transitioned from crimson to a stark black at the ends. “Even the black came back. What hair does that?”

More digging.

“Whatcha got there?”

The Hunter sat on his haunches before her. In his hand, he clutched two needles. Very similar in size and shape, but very different in make. Smaller than the ones typically used on foes, but having a purpose all the same. Rarely used, but always retrieved (when possible).

“Needles. Iron, and silver.”

“What are they for?”

“I’d like to test a theory,” he succinctly replied.

She was wary, still eyeing the instruments of torture no larger than a knitting needle when he requested her hands. And if she was entirely honest, she wasn’t sure she wanted to hand them over.

Snerk.

Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment at the noise, but she only pulled her hands closer to her chest. She was sure that the Hunter would respect her denial, should she give one. But with an over-dramatic sigh, the appendages were extended. “… Gonna hurt?”

It wasn’t quite a question.

“Possibly.”

This time, she huffed. “Thanks for the insight. But I am grateful you asked. So…” She shook her hands at him. “Do what you’re gonna do.”

Surprisingly, the needles went to one side. His hands cradling one of hers before his thumbs pressed into her palms. Rubbing. Kneading the flesh until her fingers were spreading invitingly and her eyes were closed. And she never noticed an absence of one.

However, she did not fail to notice the chill of cold metal against her palm. Blunt end rolling along the creases and divots, pausing only to wiggle in one spot. The needle was dull and not very shiny. ‘Must be the iron one.’

He grabbed the silver one gleaming in the early-morning light, repeating the process until he was satisfied.

“You know… if you were testing ways to make me calm and happy, I’m sure a few head-pets would’ve worked.” She nudged him with her foot. “Just for future reference.”

The Hunter logged that away. He wasn’t sure when it would ever be relevant knowledge, but surely it would serve some purpose. Even if for only a moment. Unfortunately for her, he had a theory he’d yet to test. With a flip of the needle, he dug the razor-sharp tip into the flesh.

The girl sighed. “Is this part gonna hurt?”

“Undoubtedly.”

“Bring it on.” She expected a small prick. Or a nick. But as the needle shot straight through her hand with a small flourish of his own, she screeched and about slapped him in the face. She might have done it, too, had he not caught the swinging limb and driven the iron needle through it, as well. “Bloody – Gods bless the country and save everything! That hurt!”

He said nothing of her colorful substitution for what was sure to be a very long, drawn out expletive. Only murmured over the countenanced carbuncle’s rambunctious laughter, “I warned you.”

“Warn me better!” she hissed, pressing her foot against his stomach and lightly shoving. Not hard enough to knock him over. Just enough to rock him as the laughter died down. “What would require this?! Couldn’t you have just… given me a small poke?!”

“You’re healing too fast for ‘a small poke’ to be of use,” the Hunter calmly explained, thumbs massaging her trembling fingertips. “Prolonged exposure will allow us to watch for any reactions to these two metals and further determine what you might be.”

“Pieces to the puzzle, so to speak,” Hand added. While his voice wavered with his mirth, he laughed no more. Opening D’s palm until he stared up at Krista. Or rather, stared at her hands. “How does it feel?”

“Feels like someone put a nail through my hand…” she deadpanned, and the creature groaned in response.

“I got that, smartass.” The beady eyes rolled.

But with her not focused on D, it gave the Hunter a small moment to collect her blood for analysis. Eyeing the dark green display of the micro computer as it struggled to read and decipher the information it was given. Struggled to infer the girl’s face. Struggled to tell him anything before releasing a shrill shriek. Error codes filling the screen at an alarming rate and the face it had attempted to generate twisting and warping. A glitched, screaming visage of what it could be before the error codes consumed it.

He switched it off and slipped it into the folds of his coat just as the girl snapped her head about to locate the source of the noise. He was a tad… surprised? The small machine was rarely incapable of completing its job. And yet, here was this girl.

“D, her hand is smoking.”

So it was. He pulled her right hand closer. Watched as wisps of smoke or vapor, belched forth from the wound, curled in the air. It smelled of… flesh burning on a hot pan. Of death. Of rot.

He could see it now. Flesh once red, blackening just around the edges. Spreading like ink in water.

The hand in his hold convulsed, blood gushing around the needle. Bubbling along the edges of the silver instrument until it turned to sludge and dripped like mud onto the ground. And Krista whimpered pitifully, squirming and stomping at the earth as the black receded only to come back stronger.

A handful of minutes passed as he continued to observe the spread.

It was fascinating. How her body attempted to flush out the irritant and only succeeded in further agitating the wound. Each spasm sending an angry pulse through her hand. The immediate area burning and itching with the wrath of a thousand rashes.

“D, can this experiment be over? Like, yesterday.” The girl flapped the hand with the iron needle in it about flippantly. Appearing unbothered by its existence as she inclined her head to the opposite hand, tears dripping down her cheeks. “Because I’d rather cut off my hand than continue this.”

“That’s a little extreme, don’t you think?” Hand laughed.

“No.”

“Well… better start cutting.”

One outraged squawk later and the Hunter was intervening. Swiftly extracting the metal needles with a sticky squelch before the girl could attempt to remove his hand. He might even let her.

She huffed a sigh of relief. But it soon turned into a throaty grunt as D cleansed and bandaged her hands. Tightly. “D, my fingers are turning purple. Is that necessary?” She gasped. “Are my fingers gonna fall off?!”

“Your right hand is more likely to fall off before your fingers.”

A heavy silence stretched between them. The Hunter, staring impassively. Krista, mouth agape with terror as she struggled to decide if this was some joke or a serious issue. It was only after she decided there was no way to tell with this stoic man that she pulled her hands from his and murmured, “Can I have a hook hand?”

The Hunter was about to respond. Tell her that it was unlikely she would lose the hand considering her body was actively fighting the reaction (and fighting it very well, at that) and would likely be healed within a few hours. But with a fierce look, she shook her stiff hand at him and continued.

“Because I swear upon all that is good in this world, if I lose my hand and don’t get a kickass hand replacement out of it because of your experiment, I swear I’m gonna shove you so far into pink frills you won’t be able to see the light of day for a hundred years!”

Hand started laughing. Of course.

D just had to wonder where this girl came up with her threats.

“Man, I bet you’d look great in pink!”

No. Just… no.

“But not an overly bright pink. No… a soft pink!”

Still a no from him.

“With a tutu!”

Her eyes were sparkling, shining with her mirth and awe as she dared to imagine the impossible. But by this time, the Hunter had opted to turn away from her delusions and focus on cleaning his needles. Packing everything away as she spouted literal nonsense. Ideas regarding the duo traveling the world and putting on shows where… she would attempt to perform but would inevitably rely upon him to save the disaster.

“Suppose we could make money convincing people she’s part of a circus act,” Hand murmured.

Maybe so. But he did not agree. Nor did he disagree. Simply stared into the baggage and stored his bandages as she concluded her farfetched dream of becoming a traveling contortionist. Already she was failing miserably. Proving that, while flexible to an extent, she was not flexible enough to… contort her body and not get stuck.

“Sweet, merciful Mother! What the Hell was I thinking?! And why is sand coming out of mah boot?!”

He glanced up just as her heel slipped over her shoulder and she kicked herself in the face. Laughing heartily despite the grimace dominating her expressive countenance. “Never mind! There is no way that is happening!” Another moment of her chortling passed before she began pulling at her split boot. “Now, get outta mah boots, sands!”

And the Hunter and the countenanced carbuncle found themselves unable to look away from the girl as she panted and struggled to remove the footwear. Specifically, the intact footwear. Grunting in a manner that sounded more like she needed a bathroom and less like she was disrobing.

“Seriously, think of all the money…” the creature whispered.

As if on cue, a pop and painfully loud squeal punctuated his statement.

“Why are sweaty feet a thing?!”

“Why not wear socks?” Hand suggested.

She huffed, clearly agitated at the boot and herself. “I didn’t think to grab any when I left town. Or more of… I didn’t wanna waste time looking for a clean pair? Besides, I’d still have sweaty toes. And then the socks would probably get crusty and nasty and eventually stand on their own!”

After a few moments of her struggling more, the boot flew off and spilled… nothing.

“Are you kidding me?” the girl hissed.

And the duo watched her struggle begin anew as she tried, and failed, to pull the boot back on. Thrashing and whining like a pup. Fingers unable to properly grip the worn leather with how tightly they’d been bound.

As seemed to be a reoccurring theme, D came to her rescue. Pushing her feet into the troublesome boots before pulling her up with a soft tug on her elbow. “We’ll be leaving soon. I’ll check your hands before we do.”

“You mean you’ll check them beforehand?”

There was a long silence that stretched between them before the countenanced carbuncled said, “Y’know, it’s not too late to ditch her.”

A smug, cheeky look curled her lips and crinkled her eyes. “Mmm, I’m afraid it is. You’d probably have to kill me to get me to leave at this point.”

Another silence.

“That can be arranged.”

She gasped. “How rude!”

Hand’s next response was muffled by the straps of the saddle as D fastened it down, but she imagined it was just laughter. It could have been something equally ‘rude’ as the last thing. Playfully rude.

“Hey, D?” He inclined his head to show he was listening. “Being so old… if you fall in love, would you technically be a cradle robber?”

Speaking of rude.

And yes, that was most definitely laughter emanating from his hand. But she continued despite the noise and out of character gawking the Hunter was doing. As much as one so stoic could gawk.

“I heard some of the girls in my class calling one of the teachers a cradle robber. I asked Miss Haldwyn what that meant, and she said it was what people were rudely called when they fell in love with someone younger than them. And she believed it to be okay so long as the younger one was an adult.” She eyed D critically at this point before snickering. “I’d imagine the pickings get sparse for your age range once you reach the thousands.”

A pale hand snapped forward and grabbed her ear, tugging the flailing girl toward the horse. Not that he was doing it hard enough to do more than pinch if her delighted giggles were anything to go by. But the moment did give D a bit of information that he somehow overlooked.

“Your ears.”

“Yes! You have my ear!”

They drew short of the steed with another soft tug on said ear, and brushing back her hair, he said, “You have Elfin ears.”

Her face became uncharacteristically blank. Eyes glazed over as she reached up to cup his hands. “I have… effin’ ears?”

“Elfin.”

Another blank stare.

“What’s that mean?”

With a small turn, his fingertip traced the upper point of her ear. It had a delicate curve with a pale blond dusting of hair. Not much larger than the average ear. Adorned with no less than five studs trailing from the lobe to the tip.

He supposed the best way to explain was to show her. And she watched raptly as he pulled back his dark hair to reveal an ear not unlike her own. Missing the curve and peach fuzz, yes. But undeniably Elfin.

“Oh! You have pointy ears too!” she squealed. “That’s so cool! I haven’t met anyone else with them! Is that what Elfin means? Pointy? Is it a genetic mutation?”

And on she continued as she missed the point entirely. Granted, she seemed to understand that she could likely not classify as Human, but he was hoping she would understand that even that small bit of information helped lead them to where she might fit.

Perhaps finding her place might convince her that she wasn’t an affront to nature.

Chapter Text

November 10, 13,012 - Sunset

God help him.

Or better, God help Hand.

The sun was setting on the horizon. Blinding. Brilliant. But nothing could outshine Krista’s glaring lack of musical talent. Or perhaps she was singing off-key with the intent to annoy the creature in his palm?

He couldn’t be sure. Not when she seemed to clear her throat and belt out lyrics to a children’s song in a pitch too high to be plausible. Her grin stretched wide as her voice cracked and turned into a breathy rasp.

Too bad. She might sound decent if she sang something more suited to her.

Then again, could anything really improve the song ‘Knick-Knack’ when you’re on the one-hundred and fifty-ninth verse and you have no choice but to make up words?

Doubtful.

“D, please! I can’t take it anymore! Cut me off and bury me in dirty underwear for all I care! But end my misery! There’s not enough liquor in this country to numb me to this!”

She sang louder.

“She sounds like a dying cat!”

It became worse. The words warped by her purposeful yowling as she strained to sound just like a famished feline.

The Hunter’s left arm jerked upward before coming to rest at his side. If she had to guess, Hand wanted to hit her. And D, like the sweetheart he was, was keeping him at bay.

How sweet!

The song was (thankfully) interrupted by a sudden burst of laughter as the thought struck her. She wasn’t sure exactly why it struck her as so amusing. Perhaps just the idea of the Hunter ever being called a sweetheart? Probably by a woman, blind in her old age, serving sweet tea on a hot afternoon. Thinking that he is perhaps her great-grandson come to visit.

She was hunched over, wheezing pathetically as her mind ran away with the imagined scene until the imagined D was dressed as one of the boys at her school. Unwilling to correct the elderly woman. Desperate to act the part of a loving teen.

“Noooooo…” she groaned at length. “Oh, no! I need it to happen!”

“Need what to happen?”

Divert!

With a quick snap of her arm, she held the still-bandaged hand before his gaze. “I need you to check my hand, muscle man!”

The horse plodded to a halt, and while she wouldn’t admit it, the stare she was receiving was making her skin crawl. She waggled her fingers, as well as she could, while waiting.

Nothing.

“I’m not gonna apologize for calling you ‘muscle man’ when you are very… beefy?”

Was that a defeated sigh her ears detected?

Or was Hand holding back a snort of amusement?

“Please check my hand? I don’t wanna see it if it’s still black and… yucky.”

This time, it was definitely the Hunter. But without complaint, he pulled her hand close and unraveled the bandages. Slender fingers poking and prodding at the tender flesh.

Very tender. But she was comforted by the fact that she didn’t hear any… squishing. “Is it safe to look?”

“Define safe.”

She cringed. “Doesn’t look like my skin is about to fall off?”

“Then it is safe.”

“Ew! Barely!” she exclaimed, stretching the skin and balking when it appeared liable to split open. “Please tell me this isn’t permanent.”

There was silence as he nudged the horse onward. The hand had not healed as fast as he first thought it might. But perhaps it was just a superficial thing. Healing from the inside out.

The first check had resulted in some startled screeching from the girl. Granted, it had looked rather grisly. Worse than it had when he’d first wrapped it with black skin weeping equally black blood. But if he had to guess, it was just her body’s way of purging the irritant and would soon be right as rain.

“D, how do you just pop up like daisies from everything?”

His train of thought ground to a halt at her question. Dark eyes watching as she twisted about in the saddle until she was facing him with her legs thrown over his thighs. And closer, still, she came.

“You took a sword to the heart with some kind of… poison on it. That, alone, made my arms numb! Then those dogs? Wolves? Things!” She was becoming excited, pitch rising as she squeezed his upper arm and came ever closer. Invading his space. “Those creatures chewed on your shoulder like it was a bloody roast! And it’s like it never happened! You didn’t seem fazed by the pain!”

Suddenly, Krista took a breath and rocked back onto her rear. Hand not blackened pressed to her face as she sighed. “Sorry. I guess what I’m gettin’ at is… did you work up to it? Or have you always been tough as nails? Unkillable. Quick to heal.”

She didn’t need to vocalize her other question for him to hear it. ‘Why am I the way I am?’

The horse continued on as he answered, “A bit of both, I suppose.”

“So, you’ve always had muscles in your shit?”

He glanced down at her just as she clapped her hands over her mouth. Cheeks flushed. “I suppose that’s one way to put it.”

And just as quickly, her embarrassment fled. Emotions flitting between disbelief and amusement before she outright belly laughed. “Oh, well then I guess I’m out of luck!”

“Not entirely. You’ve got time,” Hand assured

The statement seemed to strike something within her, as all chortling stopped and she straightened up. “Can you teach me to fight?”

Yes. That was a surprisingly good idea.

He tugged on the reins and slid off the rear of the beast, gesturing for Krista to dismount as she said, “Wait, now? Really?!” Really, what better time? They were still quite some distance from the nearest town. He needed to know where she stood in combat prowess. She was willing and already stripping off her dress and cloak.

“So, what are we gonna do?”

“Spar,” he answered simply. “What are you capable of?”

“I’m um… I…” The girl trailed off uncertainly, fingering the baton at her side. “If I tell you that most of what I pull off is only because of dumb luck, will that answer your question?”

“We have our work cut out for us, you mean?” Hand supplied.

Her shoulders and hands rose as she nodded in a ‘yeah, pretty much’ way.

“So, you knocking D off the horse?”

“I was scared.”

“Gutting the Noble in Puregon? And breaking his leg?”

For a moment, she seemed unsure of what he meant. But realization quickly settled across her countenance as she flinched and grimaced. Fingers digging into the flesh of her upper arm. “Angry. Same with the fake you. I was mainly angry any time I accomplished something that night.”

“We really do have our work cut out for us, D.”

That would be determined in depth after their little… match.

He stretched his arm back and unsheathed his sword, ordering Krista to do the same. “Show me what you can do.”

There was a moment of silence before she shrugged and gradually extended one blade. “Stab?” A bob and jab. “Bam, fool!” But at D’s steely stare, she drew in on herself. “Not what you meant?”

He advanced.

“Wow. You still look pretty intimidating. Almost as scary as when I first met you.”

Dark eyes gleamed in the night and she retreated.

“You aren’t playing around with this, are you?”

In answer, the Hunter leapt, sword clashing against her raised blades with a shrill clang. He struck, again, and her body lurched under the onslaught. Already struggling to keep up with the pace he’d set. Faster than that fake twat, but slower than she knew he could go. Slower than he moved with her attached to him.

It wasn’t a comforting thought.

‘He could half-ass an assault and we’d die.’

Krista agreed, but she couldn’t falter now. Not when he was advancing faster. Throwing more force behind each attack.

Or perhaps she really was that weak?

But perhaps if she used his strength against him?

With a flick of her wrist, she twisted one blade about with the intent to deflect his next attack. And she might have, too. If only he hadn’t anticipated it and parried her parry with a parrying dagger and knocked her on her rear. But she didn’t have time to lament the lost opportunity. Rolling to one side before blade could meet flesh.

“You should come at me with the intent to kill.”

“Well, this is a little more intense than what I had in mind for sparring!” she cried as she scrambled to her feet. And looking over her shoulder, she could see nothing. Only…

Darkness.

Too thick to see through.

Choking.

Unnatural.

Hairs rose on the back of her neck as she strained to see. Gut clenching and quivering. Eyes jerking until she was driven to pinch them shut as her skin prickled with fear.

“Use more than your eyes to search.”

She shuddered, thinking that perhaps her ears could serve her well enough.

But it was silent. No sign of life aside from her labored breathing. Not even the wind dared disturb them.

She sniffed.

Sand and baked grass.

“Damn it!”

“Focus.”

Dagger outstretched, Krista whirled about and met only air. Panting as she realized that, not only had she missed, she’d never heard him approach to begin with. Had barely felt his breath warm her neck.

‘You really are shitty at this.’

She knew this, but she didn’t want to hear it from the voice. “Shut up…”

‘I bet there are kids out there that are better at payin’ attention.’

“Shut up.”

‘Better at fightin’. Don’t have fits every time somethin’ ‘scary’ happens.’

Fingers clawed at her scalp and ears. Drawing blood in a desperate bid to silence the voice.

‘And aren’t completely useless bags of flesh!’

“Just shut the fuck up!”

Her anger flared and… there! With a sudden clarity, she could see him. Eyes wide and wild as she tracked the figure drifting through the shadows. Not simply blending in with the dark due to his attire.

He shifted, and the shadows followed. Clinging to him. Distorting his figure until he was practically one with the inky blackness. He appeared aware that she’d found him, however, and began retreating. Shadows wrapping about him.

But Krista was already on the move. Charging across the ground with all the rage of a hell cat. And with a soft hum, he noted she was moving faster. Her eyes alight with bloodlust. Not the same kind that took hold as she mauled Riedikke, but a bloodlust all the same.

One that had her in his face in a matter of moments. Daggers poised to strike and deflect. Despite her increase in speed, however, she was still leagues slower than the Hunter.

And it showed when, with a mere flick of his hand, she was stumbling to one side. Doubled over with a broken wail.

“Anger is not the most reliable tool,” D murmured as she shook and clutched at the gushing gash threatening to split open. And everyone there knew that if it did, she’d be scooping her entrails up. “It can land you in hot water.”

“Well, it’s not like I intended to get angry!” she hissed in return. “I just… can’t do anything right.”

“Now, that’s not true,” said Hand.

The look she cast them was withering, at best, as she gestured to the wound just barely starting to heal. Blood still leaking around her arm.

“You’re untrained, that’s all.”

“Worthless. Probably untrainable.”

“You need to stop that.”

The girl didn’t respond. Instead, she assessed the state of her wound and stood with a soft groan. Casting the Hunter a sidelong glance with eyes that shined a tad too brightly in the night. Wavering between their typical acidic green and cornflower blue.

She swung.

Shadows enveloped him as he drifted back just out of range of the blade. Something had shifted in her. That voice the cause. Truth be told, D didn’t know if it was a good thing. Sure. She was stronger, perhaps. More agile on her feet.

But reckless.

Impulsive.

He didn’t care for it.

He’d seen too many die for that very reason.

Suddenly, Krista was leaping. Countenance fierce as she attempted to land a single hit. Surprisingly, her blades were sheathed, back to their baton-like state. But he realized the reason as she swung like a player at the bat.

With a crack, his hand went slack and his sword dropped to the ground. It had served its purpose in the beginning. But now, he figured it was time for a hands-on approach.

‘D, you’re gonna have to hold back a bit less. This rage is not something to treat lightly.’

The creature was right.

She ducked out of view, but this time, he would not underestimate her. He pivoted, arm braced to weather the blow she aimed at his head.

Another crack.

His arm did not give.

Another.

The Hunter pushed her back with a sharp shove, driving the heel of his palm into her chest. Not hard enough to cause internal injuries. Just enough to wind her.

Not near enough to deter her.

She would get him. If he wanted to spar like this, she would make him bleed.

A cracked bone or two? Nah. She wanted to see red splatter on the ground!

And as these dark desires flitted through her mind, she continued the assault. Receiving and returning blows. Eyes wild. And if she didn’t think it would wind her, she’d have been laughing, as well. Laughing over his corpse!

Time seemed to freeze as her leg collided with the Hunter’s side. Despite the distance between them, she could hear the crack of ribs and… something being crushed or punctured. A lung? She would guess yes if the blood staining his lips on his sharp exhale was anything to go by.

But she was horrified. At herself. At her thoughts.

‘How does he do that?!’

She didn’t understand what the voice was referencing. Then again, she did not have much time to think on it. Not when he was driving his fist into her thigh with enough force to make the muscle cramp.

Yes. That’s all it was. A really bad cramp. Like the ones you get in the morning if you stretch too hard.

She fell, but as she twisted, it looked more like a purposeful maneuver. And she braced herself before she kicked much like a donkey. Striking his knee and shin, the limb buckling beneath his weight.

But even as this happened, he was grabbing the still-extended leg and dragging her towards him. Pinning her flailing legs with his own.

This is where reckless behavior landed someone.

At the mercy of another, more skilled fighter.

She realized this (among other things) as he stretched her arm out, snapped it around with a burning twist, pinned her hand to her back, and pushed it up.

And up.

And up.

Up until she was whimpering pitifully as it popped out of place and wondering how she got to that point.

Not that she couldn’t remember. But aside from the one moment where she realized her thoughts had taken a frighteningly grim turn, she felt rather… detached. Almost like she was in a dream. And eventually, much like she had standing over Riedikke.

That bloodthirst that would only be quenched by eliminating the person in her way.

… Had she truly desired for the Hunter to die?

Krista shook her head. On the verge of tears, but unwilling to shed them now. She’d made an ass of herself, she felt. And while she hadn’t felt completely in control of her actions… well, she didn’t have much else to blame her behavior on. The confusion wasn’t helping with the haze floating about her mind, either.

“Y’know, kid…”

When had he released her? Although, she supposed it didn’t matter. She didn’t much feel like standing. A fitting place for trash.

Furious scrubbing at her eyes ensued as she turned her head to listen.

“You have it in you.”

She scoffed.

“We’re serious. But you need a hell of a lot of training to enhance what is already there.”

“Multiply zero by any other number and it’s still zero.”

An audible huff. “It’s not zero. But we need to work on bringing out what you have without you being angry.”

It was now that D interjected with, “You’ll die on this path. Anger may get you somewhere faster, but it should not be the sole reason you are able to accomplish things.”

Dear Gods, she was openly sobbing now. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve had some issues since we met up, but I swear, I’m not usually like… this. I don’t know what’s wrong with me!”

‘You’re pathetic. That’s what’s wrong.’

“Are you just gonna insult me every chance you fuckin’ get?!”

‘I wouldn’t if it weren’t so very easy and very true.’

She felt it then. A swell of emotions not quite her own. She was amused, but angry. So very irritated. At herself? At D. It was focusing on the Hunter.

No. Now… on her? Not her. Herself, but not herself.

The fires burned brighter. Hotter.

Just so!

Her head throbbed.

“D… I’m… just gonna walk for a bit.”

The Hunter watched as she took off running. In some senses, she was an open book. Her past? No. Of course not. But her emotions?

Good Lord. What he didn’t show, she more than made up for. A real ‘heart on your sleeve’ type.

Not that she was overly emotional, but this was likely the longest he’d been stuck with one person in quite a while (aside from his ever-present hand companion), and he was becoming better at reading her. Detecting minor shifts in her disposition. But whatever was happening in her mind was still a mystery to him.

“Go after her.”

He intended to.

He gathered their gear, and with a soft click of his tongue, he and the horse followed at a distance. Giving her the space she so clearly desired. And she honestly appreciated it. However, if he’d have bothered her at that moment, it wouldn’t have seemed she was.

Not when her eyes were narrowed in pain and fury. Because damn it all! That wasn’t a cramp. It was a cracked femur. And while running on it was doing her no favors, it was helping to clear her mind. Toss away the shroud of misplaced and unjustified anger.

Grounding her as she decided she wholly disliked the fact that this voice was manipulating her thoughts and feelings and perceptions like she was a tool.

What she wouldn’t give to go back to how things were. When voices in her head were her own and she could depreciate herself without another’s input.

Granted, she wasn’t really one to depreciate herself very often. She was rather happy with how she looked. But her intellect and grace? There was no denying that she was painfully lacking in both. Or maybe just common sense?

‘I’m not dumb. I’m just…’

‘Sheltered. Childlike. Oblivious. An idiot.’

She stuttered to a halt, breaths harsh as she attempted to retort. “See… can’t you just be nice? You started off okay… and ended it like a turd! A big, smelly one! Like the one that kid planted in the middle of the hallway!”

‘He was a bastard.’

“He needed love! Shit, I think he was there longer than us.” The voice was silent to this, but if the staticesque whine in her head was anything to go by, she assumed it was upset. “Wait. Were you around even then?”

‘I told you,’ it huffed. ‘I’ve always been with you. But… tired. You couldn’t hear me.’

“But you were there in the memory thingy. I could hear you then.”

So, what changed?

Another whimper left her, but this one stemming entirely from frustration. She just wanted answers. And the answers seemed so close! But each moment she tried to think on it, it slipped through the cracks.

“Kid.”

She jumped.

Good Gods. When was the last time someone just said her name? Not that she minded ‘kid’. But… When was the last time? And how did he always manage to startle her? Making her feel as if she had something to hide.

“Like a thief!”

The Hunter and his companion stared at her for a few solid seconds before opting to ignore her outburst. And as D grabbed her still-limp arm, Hand asked the one thing on their minds.

“Kid, do you talk to yourself or someone else?”

And it had to be asked because the slight changes in her voice could be due to her emotions. Talking in her sleep. Talking to herself. All of this could be part of a typical quirk or some hallucination. Mental derangement.

Or… she could truly be talking to another person.

“Myself? I think. It hasn’t given me a name. And it’s so mean and cynical and almost my exact opposite so what else would it be if not just some form of me?!”

‘I’m not an it and I am not you, you tard!’

“Don’t call me a tard! That’s mean!”

‘I wouldn’t call ya one if ya weren’t one!’

Her jaw jutted before she snapped, “Don’t you have an off switch?!”

The Hunter was about to cut in and interrupt the very obvious bickering match taking place, but he was stopped short when the girl clucked her tongue. Turning her decidedly not-green eyes upon him.

“I don’t know about an off switch, but I’ve certainly got an on switch,” she said, lips curling in a decidedly not-Krista fashion.

If D didn’t know any better, he might believe that was an odd way to say she had no chill. However, that look told a different story. It was an innuendo. No doubt about it. But he took the smallest breath and…

Yes. Definitely a sexual innuendo. With the barest hint of arousal curling through the air, there was no denying it. It was sweet and musky with just a hint of something earthy. Certainly pleasing to smell, but…

Not natural coming from Krista.

In one sharp movement, D pulled her arm out and slipped it back into place with a loud pop. She yowled, the electric blue fading from her eyes. The soft scent of arousal dissipating as she bounced away with a stomp of her small feet.

“Why so rough?!”

He did not answer. Twisting her about until she faced the horse with a squeak and some indignant squawking. Something he greatly preferred. And with her flung across the horse like a sack of potatoes, they were off. Pointed southwest, but not so west they would end up at the sea. But… Perhaps traveling by sea would be faster.

No. It would be better to travel by land. Chances are they would come across useful information staying on their current path. Rumors. Leads. Anything suspicious that would point to the pound of flesh to be paid, and any clues that would lead to the main base of operations on the Southern Continent.

And most importantly, it would give them time.

God knew this girl draped across his knees needed time.

“Hey, D?” He hummed, and she took that as her cue to continue. “Do you have any ideas as to what is going on with me? Since you know so much, I figure you must have some theories.”

Oh, what a question. He had a few theories, yes. And he said as much, but he did not elaborate. There were too many variables. Too many ‘what ifs’. There was no way for him to provide a concrete answer at that moment.

Mutant.

Shifter.

Dhampir.

An entire spread of creatures.

But none of them explained the delay. Not one of them gave reason to the sudden onset of abilities plaguing and changing her. And so, he would not get into it. He would wait, as Hunters are sometimes best to do, and tackle the problem once he had more to draw from.

“At least your heart sounds nice. Slow. Really slow.”

The Hunter glanced down at his charge as she drawled the statement. Grinning a dopey, sleepy smile as she swayed in time with the horse.

“Is it okay for it to be so slow? And quiet? You must have really weird blood pressure. Or does you being a Dhampir negate that? But how? Slow heart, normal pressure? Or slow heart, low pressure but no effect on you?”

She seemed more alert with each word, but it was almost strange to witness her thinking so hard about this one thing.

“Is that why those not-dead dead guys were so cold? But if that’s the case, do they have a heartbeat at all? How do they get oxygen to their brain? And do they have a blood pressure? Is it low? Is it normal? If they have none, but their blood still squirts out… it’s a paradox.”

A loud moan filled the night air, and if anyone else had the misfortune of hearing it, they might think there was a stranded/dying animal around. Or an obnoxious ghoul.

“Kid, you might be better off not thinking about the logics of Nobles and their workings,” said Hand, stiffly patting Krista’s back in a ‘there, there’ motion. “It’s like asking why some can’t stand running water.”

All was quiet.

“Like… rivers and rain?” At Hand’s affirmative, she twisted around to stare expectantly at the Hunter and his hand. “Do any of them ever shower? Can they even bathe?”

No answer. But then, D wasn’t typical. Running water. Large bodies of water. Stealing his left sock. Submerging him in milk. These were not things that could affect the stoic Hunter. People were lucky if even a stake to the heart did more than inconvenience the man.

“I bet a person who runs everywhere is a Noble’s worst nightmare, huh?”

There was a long stretch of silence before the countenanced carbuncle dryly muttered, “Running water. Ha ha.”

---

The sun crested the eastern horizon as the travelers drew upon another walled town. This would likely be the last they’d see for quite a while. So close to greener pastures, but still in danger of errant storms. And even from their current distance, the Hunter could see the shimmer and crackle of a barrier erected around it. They would need to hail the guardsmen for entrance if it did not fall before they arrived.

In the meantime, however, D had more pressing matters.

Keeping Krista upright.

The girl had eventually opted to sit correctly in the saddle after worming back into her disgusting dress and cloak. Listening attentively as D and Hand turned her pun into a small lesson. Until she wasn’t. Slumped back into the Hunter. Snoring louder than should be feasible.

While he wasn’t normally concerned with such a thing like sleep, it did pique his interest with her. Such strange sleeping habits. But, if he had to guess, he supposed it was just her body’s way of recharging after heavy bodily damage.

Not the most productive method. But at the very least, she didn’t pass out immediately after or in the midst of trouble.

Conversations were free game, apparently. However, it still wasn’t terribly convenient. He’d tried rousing her a few times since the town came into view with varying degrees of success. Currently, she was muttering about exploding pickles being a good game.

Perhaps it was only because she trusted him?

“But there was that time she did this when we first got her. And she punched you.”

True, but the Hunter had already written that instance off. She’d been on the edge of death and… He wasn’t entirely sure that it had been Krista to swing.

“Those pretty blues didn’t shine, but it still could have been it manifesting.”

It was decided. They would be treating this as more than a bout of psychosis until proven otherwise.

“Oh? Am I an ‘it’ now?”

D opted not to entertain it. Keeping a decidedly more-than-firm grasp on her shoulder. However, the voice didn’t seem to mind, never shifting Krista’s body. Never doing more than a one-armed shrug, still slumped over in the seat. And just as quickly, it was gone.

“Hey, D? You’re kinda hurtin’ m’arm.”

He released her like she was a hot coal, and she went down just as fast. Flopping into the ground with a muffled thud. But she was too tired to care that she was getting reacquainted with the sand, and she said as much.

“Think you’d care if it involved new clothes?” asked Hand.

The next sound to rise from the girl was some unholy mix of defeated and mild intrigue, rising in pitch until it was an tiny squeak and she was wriggling excitedly on the ground. “Sign me up!”

Another pause.

“Why do I keep waking up to pain and the ground? Does this have to be a thing?”

“This time was unintentional,” said D. And Krista barked out a sharp laugh as she struggled to her feet. “But this is a larger town. The tailor might be better equipped to clothe someone of your… stature.”

And more laughing. “Aw. That’s just a nice way to say I’m a short shit.”

That wasn’t untrue.

But he could practically feel his constant companion itching to say she looked like an underdeveloped teen. He didn’t. He wanted to. A sense of self preservation won out, however, when Hand realized it was likely a very good way to end up detached and shoved into a too-cramped saddlebag.

“That’s not exactly what we meant, kid, but okay.”

That was a safe path to tread, and Krista commented no more on it. Charging ahead with a vigor she did not previously possess. “Well, what are we waiting for?! Let’s! Get! Those! Clothes!”

The gate.

They were waiting on the gate.

Once the girl realized this, standing too close for comfort to the barrier, she shuffled over and slumped against the Hunter’s knee. The hour-long trot had not drained her of energy, but she didn’t particularly like the idea of having to wait. Normally, waiting didn’t bother her.

But…

“Clooooooooooothes!”

“They aren’t going anywhere,” said Hand.

She scoffed in reply. “Is there a way to get their attention without looking like turds?”

“They spotted us half an hour ago.”

“Then why haven’t they opened?”

Should they tell her it was likely the guardsmen didn’t want to?

But before either of the two could say anything, there was a shout from the top of the wall. A few F-Bombs dropped. A rushed exclamation for the travelers to back up as the barrier started falling. Had Krista still been in range of the dispersion, she might have received a nasty shock.

The ‘door’ folded into itself with an obscenely great clang, shaking the very walls and earth as it tucked into an opening above their heads. It wasn’t the most comforting sound. Not when it resembled the noise a manual can opener makes as it cuts through metal. Or the sound of someone cutting tin? Amplified to levels that made Krista’s ears twitch and ache.

“Sounds like it needs servicing,” said Hand, earning a small hum from D.

She was glad she wasn’t the only one to think so. Especially as they passed beneath it and it lurched down a good foot. “Someone is gonna get smooshed someday. And it’s gonna get messy! No guts, no glory!”

She froze. Eyes wide as she saw something he couldn’t. But he could guess it was a flashback of some sort.

“Let the first to experience it be someone who desperately deserves it!”

The gate lurched down another foot.

“Maybe we stop talking about the gate,” said Hand.

Another groaning jerk.

The travelers did not hesitate to hurry further into town. Away from the literal death trap. Away from the too-harsh glares from the top of the wall.

“Why are they staring like we just demanded their first born?” asked Krista once they were around another corner. “Didn’t anyone tell them that it’s rude to stare?!”

“Best not think about it now, kid,” answered the creature. “They let us in. Odds are, they’re just paranoid. I don’t think they will be bothering us.”

“Hmm. If you say so.”

D tipped his head in agreement. He highly doubted anyone would attempt to chase them out or attack them. Not when he could already hear whispers of his name on the breeze. Because people were stupid, but they weren’t that stupid.

“So!” Krista chirped hopefully. “Clothes?”

“Clothes.”

“Where clothes?”

The Hunter eyed the shop behind her, pointedly, before saying, “There clothes.”

“New clothes! Thanks, D!”

And she was gone. Leaving him with little more than a quick arm squeeze and a promise of not being long. She didn’t have very high hopes as she entered the small building. Not because it wasn’t absolutely filled to the brim with clothing. Only because she didn’t want to screech over a dress, again.

So, she searched.

And searched.

And searched.

Continuing as she listened to a man younger than herself softly list out sizes before he exclaimed, “Oh! It’s my lucky day! The last pair!”

Her head snapped around and she eyed the tag dangling off the breeches in his hands.

Her size.

‘We could punt him outta the way and take them for ourselves.’

And thus started the obnoxious groaning as she sorted through the remaining racks, because punting a boy and stealing his clothes was not going to happen. No matter how badly she wanted that pair of breeches.

So she double checked.

Triple checked.

Shrieking in terror as D rested a hand on her shoulder to keep her from futilely attempting to squeeze into children’s clothes.

“You have terrible luck with clothes.”

“No kidding!”

“Another dress?”

The look her two companions received in response told them that option was off the table. A very hard no.

“Well, kid, it’s not like there’s much choice,” said Hand.

Krista agreed. “I know! But they’re horrible! And impractical! Useless! Heaps! Of fabric!”

“Maybe I can be of assistance?”

With a jerk, she snapped about at the rough voice. Flinging the shirt too tiny for even her onto the Hunter. As if she hadn’t been desperate enough to try it on. There stood the owner of the business (she assumed), fixing her with a patient, knowing stare. His grey hair slicked back. Held in place by a pair of thin spectacles. And, with a sheepish smile, she murmured, “I’d appreciate it, but how so?”

“I’m a tailor, girl,” he said kindly. There was a loud pop as he stretched his back, hands braced against his hips. “We’ll take some measurements and have you set in a few days.”

Would they even be able to stick around that long?

“You’re both Hunters, yes? Places to go, people to kill?” Krista shook her head. “Even if you’re not, girl, your clothes are still seeing their fair share of grief. Give me two days, three maximum, and I can have you a small set of clothes that will take a beating better than…” He turned a critical eye to her fugly dress, nose wrinkling. “Well, better than that thing. Look better, too.”

She was prepared to turn him down. Resigned to her fate. But the Hunter had other plans, it seemed, as he ushered her forward and draped the toddler-sized shirt across a neighboring rack. “You need them.”

“I do, but…”

Oh… that was a look that left no room for argument.

“Dang. Yes, Sir.”

She’d never been so fussed over in her entire life. At least, not that she could remember. It left her flustered and embarrassed as the tailor measured and tutted at her. Muttering that he was certain his teenaged granddaughter was bigger than her.

“I’m 18!”

“And she’s 14 and half a head taller than you.”

“Then she’s gonna be a behemoth, too!” It’s what she… it? It’s what the voice wanted to say.

She’d never fought so hard to keep her mouth shut. ‘We can’t just go around calling everyone behemoths!’

‘I wouldn’t if it weren’t true. Besides, you’re not one to talk! What’s one of the first things you called him?’

Her eyes twitched to look at D. ‘No comment.’

Krista was eerily still and quiet, eyes a tad vacant despite their small jerk. And while D could see she was elsewhere, the older man paid no mind to her temporary mental absence as he continued his business. Taking note. Measuring, once more. Taking note, again. Using a moment to sketch out a simple design that was promptly scratched out betwixt a slew of questions on her color preferences and armor placement.

He tapped her on the nose with the blunt end of his pencil, bringing her back to the present. “Again, what colors do you want?”

“Whatever you have is fine.”

“You’re going to be stuck with these clothes a while. Are you sure you don’t have anything in mind?”

“I’m…” Honestly, she was beginning to feel overwhelmed. It was one thing to be picky about the type of clothing, but the color? “I’ve… always just grabbed what was available. Or what was handed to me. I don’t know.”

Those troubled, too-bright green eyes fell upon him. He could almost see her every worry. Concerns about how long anything would last. How well it would hide a stain. How little it all mattered. And he silently observed the Hunter as he stilled the hand scratching at her arm.

Such a small thing.

“Alright, girl,” the tailor started. “I’ve got some designs I think you might like. Check back in tomorrow evening. Or the day after. Day after tomorrow is probably your best bet. I can put a few low priority orders on hold. Turn my machine up to maximum overdrive.”

Krista was a little worried about the inflection put upon ‘maximum overdrive’, if she was honest. “Please don’t strain yourself.”

He barked out a laugh in response. “Strain? No. A challenge? Yes. But I’ll get it done! Just you wait. Let’s talk payment.”

They agreed upon half down. The other half upon completion. And the red-head was infinitely grateful for her allowance. She had more than enough to pay for it outright. But the tailor insisted, because “Paying for a job not done is just bad business.”

They left. Her coin purse a little lighter. A feeling of utter joy and excitement clawing its way through her body as they ambled down the street.

‘Don’t do it.’

She did it.

With a shudder and a squeak, she hunched over and hopped, one hand raising to flap in the air. And it was probably the second small outburst he’d been able to witness. Although, it did garner a few open stares as she carried on, prancing in place with the widest grin.

It was… endearing, in a way.

The countenanced carbuncle twisted D’s palm around just enough to see, saying, “You’re really excited about those clothes, huh.”

“Heck yeah!”

“So, you feel up to some more ‘training’?”

“Hell yeah! I gots the energy for it! Let’s do it!”

---

Krista stared blankly at the playground before them.

Devoid of energy.

Of understanding.

What training could they possibly accomplish surrounded by frolicking children? Sure, there was plenty of equipment. No shortage on space. However, she didn’t really peg D for the type to… do this.

She eyed the colorful roundabout and tiered chin-up bars. The raised platform and jungle gym. The slide and swing set. Seesaws. Rockwall.

“I don’t really like where this is going,” the girl finally breathed. “I feel like there’s gonna be pain. Probably self-inflicted. Most likely because I can’t walk without taking something out.”

“We just wanna see where you stand for now.”

“Oh. Good.” With a pat to D’s arm, she quipped, “See? Here I stand. Bye-bye now!”

A chilled hand grasped her dress before she could escape. “Now, now! You asked for this!”

“I didn’t ask for this! I asked for nothing that included public humiliation!”

“Who says you’ll be humiliated?”

“It’s me!” she wailed. Desperately trying to escape the hold on her clothes. “I just said the ‘how’! Being humiliated is just a side effect!”

“You’re calling attention to yourself with all this hissing you’re doing, as is.”

She faltered, because he had a point. “Shit.” With a suffering sigh, she said, “Okay. What do you want to test?”

“Balance,” the Hunter stated.

And it was such a simple thing. Balance.

So simple!

But it filled her with more dread than the prospect of sparring did.

“Never mind. Just put me out of my misery.”

A firm hand guided her to the roundabout that was sans children (why, she couldn’t say, as she loved spinning on them), and D gestured for her to stand in the center. It was well-kept. Large, with corrugated metal for the base. And cool to the touch.

Perfect for a lazy day of cloud watching.

She stood in the center of the multicolored disc. “I get you can test my balance if you don’t go too fast, but if you decide to put your scary musculature to the test…” A quiet moment stretched between the Hunter and the red-headed girl as she stared pointedly at him. “I can’t counteract centrifugal force.”

“Noted. Now, close your eyes. Find your center of balance.” D observed as she did as instructed. And God help them, she was already unsteady.

This fact was not unknown to her, and she giggled. Which didn’t help her concentration. “Okay, I’m good. Want me to keep my eyes closed?”

“For now.”

“You got it.”

A couple of minutes passed. Her mind wandered. Part of her still focused on keeping her center of balance in mind. But, it was nice to just be.

To listen to the birds singing in the trees.

To listen to the children across the park and playground squeal and frolic.

When everything was said and done, she wanted more days like these.

The roundabout suddenly jerked to one side, and she lurched into the nearest bar.

“Pay attention.”

She groaned and rubbed at her side.

Maybe less days like these.

… but still with D.

“Okay. Okay. I am no longer daydreaming.”

They were spinning.

A lazy pace that immediately had her wobbling about. She wanted to open her eyes, for no other reason than to see the Hunter walking the roundabout. It was such a mundane activity. If someone had told her he would be spinning her around in the middle of the day, she’d have laughed in their face.

But then… it really didn’t surprise her. It was in line with ‘training’ and he’d even chased her through the desert after his hat. She knew he could have easily caught her. Instead, he had indulged her childish side.

Honestly, she felt a bit… flattered? Privileged?

Their spin sped up and she lurched to one side, again.

Less of that.

She would swear he was purposely doing it when he detected a lapse in attention.

Thud.

Yes. Definitely on purpose.

And now she couldn’t straighten back up. Hunched over a slim bar with her hair slapping her in the face.

“D? How fast are you spinning me?!”

“Fast enough.”

“That’s not a good answer!”

At the same time, it was enough of an answer. She could feel the pull of gravity and, despite knowing it could only end in disaster, she shoved herself up.

Out went her feet.

“Shit!”

There was no point in keeping her eyes closed now.

Although, she might as well have. Everything flew past in a blur as she fell head over heels.

Tumbled once.

Twice.

And eventually skidded to a stop on the soft grass that didn’t feel too-soft a moment prior.

“Best training ever, D,” she eventually groaned, moving to stand. She could feel the grass and dirt shifting with each movement as it settled in her armor and clung to her dress.

Hand chirped, “Well, you were right. You can’t counteract centrifugal force! So, whatever creature can, you aren’t!”

“And y’all are turds.” With an unsteady gait, she headed for some trees at the back of the park. Out of sight of little ones and their parents. Fingers pulling at the cloth as soon as she was able.

Krista wasn’t upset at the Hunter or his handy companion.

Snerk.

Good Gods, she needed to not make that noise.

She wasn’t upset at them. In fact, she was mildly amused over the fact that D was willing to push her that far. Maybe because she said ‘can’t’? She didn’t want the word to mean she was issuing a personal challenge to D to see if she could.

With a mighty grunt, she began whipping the tree with her dress. Throwing the entirety of her meager weight behind each swing. Leaving D to watch as she tired herself out before diving back in. And when that trash was cleared out, she hunched over to dig at the small garden planted in her armor.

What she didn’t expect while down there was for D to lay a hand upon her back. Her head snapped around, but she did little more than that. “What’re you doing?”

“May I look at your back?”

Her eyes went wide, but she merely muttered a long, drawn out ‘okay’ as she stretched out her back and continued digging. Wholly confused, but willing to let D do as he pleased. Not that she would complain about the soft sweeping his hand was doing. Even if she wondered why he was doing it. It was nice. Comforting.

However, all good things must come to an end.

A shock ran up her spine, making her simultaneously shudder and want more, and go rigid and want to escape. And what fled her mouth was some unholy mix of moaning and squawking that devolved into nervous laughter.

The Hunter hadn’t done anything other than prod at the base of her spine. And she was glad that his hand immediately retracted at her… exclamation.

“My apologies,” D said as he stood back. “You have a knot at the base of your spine. I hadn’t guessed it would be… sensitive.”

“It’s… ticklish?”

She honestly didn’t know what evoked such a reaction from her. Typically, any time she’d felt of the knot, it had been exactly as she claimed. Ticklish. But under the man’s probing fingers? Ticklish? Not quite. She didn’t have anything else to compare the feeling to, however.

So, ticklish would be her answer. And she really didn’t want to think about it too hard.

“Subject change!” the girl shouted as she snapped upright. “What training can we do that doesn’t involve merry-go-rounds?”

A quick glance around the park revealed there wasn’t much unoccupied by tiny tyrants. Nothing aside from the tall trees looming above them. And with a dubious look, Krista followed his gaze.

“You’re not serious.”

He was, it seemed. “The climb will work your muscles and test your reflexes. It’s a chance to display your agility.”

Despite the laugh that erupted from her, her face was twisted into a scowl. Eyes dark as she glowered at the tree. “I think I displayed enough of that when you found me in the tree.”

“You were half dead,” said Hand.

Her frown deepened as she eyed the trees. Tall things littered with sturdy branches and covered in a pale, rough bark. But even if she jumped, there was no way she could reach the lowest branches. She threw her dress down and circled the base of each, looking for anything to grab.

There was a moment of silence as she hugged the tree and hopped. Booted feet wrapping as best as they could around the trunk.

Not that it seemed to help as she slid down the tree and fell loose. With no small amount of hissing and groaning.

“I don’t think this is gonna work. Maybe you should show me how you do it?”

There was a crunch, and she jerked back to watch as D climbed the tree. His slender fingers sinking into the flesh of the tree with little effort despite the bark.

‘Yeah… okay. Pfft.’

For once, Krista agreed with the sentiment. But she still tried.

And went nowhere.

But her efforts were rewarded with a broken nail.

D dropped down before he ran at the tree, launching himself up in two quick jumps. Once from the ground, once against the trunk. Almost appearing to float up to the branches. And it looked so bloody graceful and awe-inspiring that she was immediately excited to attempt the maneuver herself.

She was uncharacteristically confident.

“Heck yeah! I’m gonna do it!”

The Hunter watched as she stepped back. Started. Stopped. Backed up. Shook herself out. And finally, took a running start at the tree. From what he could see, Krista had good form, with her back straight and her steps purposeful.

As if she’d done this a hundred times before.

He genuinely believed she could make the jump.

The first leap came.

And everything quickly deteriorated. The foot in the split boot slipped partially out of its leathery prison, and effectively botched the next leap. Any momentum she’d built up to propel herself upwards redirected into the tumble forward.

And the point of impact?

“I’ve never seen a more glorious faceplant, kid.”

Where else? Did any of them really expect any different?

“D, maybe you should just help me up if you expect me to do any climbing in my lifetime?”

“As soon as you quit kissing wood.”

Her brain stalled, and she pulled her scratched-up face away from the bark with an expression that bordered on terrified. “Is this the textbook definition of kissing? Smashing your face into something?”

“Technically?” Hand laughed. “Grab hold. This won’t be that bad once you’re up here.”

Somehow, she doubted that. Turning a critical eye upon the hatless Hunter as he dangled upside down, branch pressed firmly into the crook of his knees. And despite his precarious position, Krista was confident that he wouldn’t slip off the branch in his attempt to haul her up.

If he did… well… That would be a thing. An amusing thing.

Arms outstretched, she jumped, and just barely managed to grab hold of his hands as Hand retreated. Her smile wide as he adjusted his grip.

But all too soon, her grin was slipping. Lips turning down as the muscles in his arms tensed, and she met his steely gaze. “D, don’t you dare!”

One brow twitched up.

“Don’t look at me like that! I mean it! Don’t you dare!”

The look continued.

When did she get so good at reading him?

“I could die!”

“I doubt that,” he softly responded.

“Look at me!” She attempted to gesture at herself, but only succeeded in rolling her shoulders and kicking her feet. Shooting him a wide-eye glare. “I’m not tough like you! If you go slinging me around, I’m gonna slap against the ground like a wet rag and die! My reflexes are poop!”

“Only one way to find out.”

The ensuing scream did well to scatter the people at the park. Mothers and fathers scrambling to gather themselves and their children, despite inherently knowing there was no danger.

They still wanted no part of it.

Krista wanted no part of it.

And yet, there she was. Rocketing through the air. Proudly exclaiming her terror for the world to hear. Only quieting once her fingers found purchase on a passing branch. Pulling herself up before she dared looking down.

Oh.

‘You’re an idiot.’

Compared to her flight in Puregon, the Hunter had done little more than toss her into the air. Like a father entertaining his daughter. Hardly any effort going into the movement.

She was a tad jealous.

“If only I had your freakish strength!” she panted. “Then I, too, could fling you about like a small sack of taters! But…” Here, she leaned back onto the branch and eyed D. “I don’t know how it works. If every action has an equal and opposite reaction, how do you not send yourself flying any time you exert yourself? How do you keep yourself from crushing everything you touch?!”

A slight shift of the shoulders.

“Did you just shrug at me?!”

The Hunter merely gazed back as she gaped at him, incredulous and not quite believing her own eyes.

“Practice and self-control,” he said.

“And I get that! But all of that does not mean you should be able to break physics!”

“Well,” said Hand. “We don’t have much of an explanation aside from that.”

“Will I be able to break physics if I get that strong?” A pause. “Stupid question. I’ll never get that strong.”

There was a long moment of silence. Calm. Quiet.

Why couldn’t life be like this more often? Just let her stew in peace.

A pair of pale hands wrapped around the branch before her.

Ah, yes. Now she remembered why. Because life is life. And she had to stir the pot and make things difficult by trying to learn and survive. And that left her in a strange situation where she was fortunate to have been hunted by D, a man willing to listen to a turd like her. But also incredibly unfortunate in having to be hunted in the first place, with people wanting her for shit she didn’t understand.

And here she was. On a trek across the Northern Continent with the Hunter. Learning more in a couple of weeks than she would have ever learned in the orphanage.

At least regarding her knowledge on creatures and beings not Human.

“Come on.”

Krista looked up at the Hunter currently perched on the branch. Balanced beautifully on the thinner part of the bough as it swayed in the breeze. “That looks like it shouldn’t support you.”

She just knew that if they switched places, she’d already be hitting the ground. But as she was having these thoughts, he was pointing up. Jumping and floating up to the next branch in reach.

That was her cue to get a move on.

She stood. She wobbled. She leapt.

And damn near fell to her untimely demise.

She didn’t want her last words to be ‘aaaAAAUAaghaaaaag’.

With no small amount of panting, she clawed her way back up. “I almost died.”

“You wouldn’t die from here…”

“Fall just right and any fall can kill you,” she grunted in turn.

“Touché. But with that logic, everything’s gonna kill you.”

“… Touché.”

But up she climbed. At a speed that impressed the Hunter. But not for the reason most would hope for.

“Yer goin’ so slow! You moved faster half dead!”

“Adrenaline!” She did find it sad, but she wouldn’t let it get her down. Not that day. Not when she knew this was something that needed doing.

And so, the hours passed sluggishly as D attempted to demonstrate proper balancing and tree climbing. Not that it helped much. And in the end, she felt thoroughly judged and lacking.

Because, damn it all, she was slow.

She was clumsy.

She was a mess.

Even if the Hunter did not possess a judgmental bone in his body. It didn’t change how… pathetic she felt.

“Maybe yer not tryin’ hard enough.”

Krista flopped over the side of a branch. Stretched out to rest in the shade. “Maybe.” She sniffed, scratching at her upper arm. “Maybe it’d help if I closed my eyes.”

“That’s a terrible idea.”

“Or it’s ingenious.”

There was a long pause.

“Y’know what? Knock yerself out.”

“Not sure I would recommend that,” Hand interjected.

Krista turned her eyes upward to eye the Hunter and his companion. And she honestly felt drained. Always looking up. Never quite reaching him. “Well this isn’t working. Don’t see the harm in trying an eyes-closed approach.”

“You were convinced you were going to die earlier. You’re not afraid of that now? When we’re higher up?”

She struggled to her feet. Closing her eyes and shrugging before she could sabotage herself by looking down. “Maybe I’m being hypocritical. But I can’t be afraid if I can’t see it coming.”

“Can’t catch yourself either.”

“Matters not!” And with an excited shout, she launched herself off the branch.

And if she died…

Well, you can’t be anyone’s toy if you aren’t alive.

‘But I don’t particularly want to die.’

Fingers found purchase.

‘And I don’t know where these dark thoughts are coming from. But I have to go.’

Bark chewing up her skin as her body swung down and around.

‘I have to learn.’

She curled in on herself as – despite her lack of sight – her world righted itself. Bracing her feet against the bough before she shoved herself up. Bleeding hands outstretched for another.

‘I have to live.’

Her eyes opened just as they found purchase, once more.

‘But how the hell am I doing this?’

And she was falling. Bouncing off the branches. Staring up in wide-eyed shock at D as she plummeted. But no, the drop couldn’t be quick. It had to pass in slow motion.

‘Where have I seen this before?’

Her left leg throbbed angrily as it slapped against a tree limb.

That’s right. What did people say? Stupid people are doomed to repeat past mistakes?

No.

Well… technically?

It didn’t matter.

Here she was.

Falling.

Again.

She blinked, and the Hunter was gone. Reappearing a short distance from her. Hand outstretched as if to catch her. And his fingers curled around her hand just as her perception of time decided enough was enough.

That it was time to speed things up.

There was a brief moment of panic. She wanted to grab D back. But her grip came too late. And while the man was strong, that didn’t prevent her from slipping out of his grasp.

It was, however, just enough to spin her around in time to execute a belly flop of epic proportions.

And some part of her reckoned she deserved this. In some messed up way.

She groaned, frustrated, as D landed beside her. “Perhaps the key to success is a change in mindset.”

“Perhaps,” he agreed.

“Or perhaps I’m doomed!” she wailed.

“Nah,” said Hand. “We just need better luck and more time.”

“And if I have neither?”

“We’ll make the best of what we have.”

There was a long pause as Krista continued to lay there. Only shifting enough to wriggle like a worm into her dress. To watch the Hunter pick up his hat and beat it thrice against his thigh to rid it of trash. She wanted to ask what happens when the best you have isn’t good enough, but…

She figured she needed to tone down her negativity.

And at this point, D might agree with the sentiment. Returning his hat to its proper place as he observed the playground and the very limp girl. He wasn’t normally bothered by pessimistic attitudes. Wasn’t normally one to spout optimistic prose.

But, again, he was concerned with the effect this voice was having on the girl’s moods.

It could be a combination of things: the voice, the circumstances, the inability to keep up with him.

But the voice was the biggest problem in his opinion.

“You will never be me,” the Hunter eventually murmured as he turned to face Krista more directly. “Just as I will never be you. Everything takes time and training. You will grow in your own way. We have time.”

She was silent for a long moment. Eventually, she sighed and pushed herself upwards, nodding slowly. “Yeah. I guess we have all the time in the world. It’s not like you’re gonna die any time soon, right?”

And he watched as she swung her gaze up to his face and paled considerably. Swallowing thickly with a broken curse. He didn’t have time to ask what had suddenly shaken her. Not when she was practically running away towards the previously abandoned roundabout.

“That was… odd.”

D agreed. And with his question in mind, he trailed after her. Watching, brows furrowed, as Krista flopped onto the textured metal disc and slowly began to spin.

“What’s on your mind, kid?”

Her mouth opened. Snapped shut. And slowly, with her eyes wide and her pale forehead beaded with sweat, she rolled her head to one side to eye him.

She looked decidedly ill. Fingers digging.

“I can’t…” Krista’s eyes twitched as she forced herself to meet the Hunter’s gaze. If only barely. “Are you sure? That we’ll have time?”

Now, her previous discomfort was turning into desperation. Panic.

Without a word, the man stepped onto the roundabout. Crouching above her head. And while he didn’t touch her or whisper words of comfort, she felt just that.

Comforted. Protected, almost.

“For realsies. What if there isn’t time? I mean, I want to find a family.” She scrubbed at her eyes. “Start a family. Lots of children running around.”

D was still silent, but attentive.

She was grateful. “I know that shit happens. People die. But…” She choked out a wet laugh. Taking a moment to breathe and leave the what-ifs unsaid. “I could adopt? It’d be nice to have one of my own.”

And he watched as her face scrunched up, tears still flowing but eyes shining with curiosity.

“I don’t know how. D, who has the baby? It’s girls, right?” At his nod, she met his stoic gaze head on. “Can boys have babies?”

“Not typically.”

“But some can?”

A nod.

“Can you?”

“Not that I am currently aware of.”

“Well, now if I just knew how babies…” She stretched out her arms and rolled her wrists a bit, pantomiming a swollen belly with a huff. “Became babies. How do babies baby?”

There was a long beat of silence that was only broken by the squeak of the roundabout as D and the countenanced carbuncle pondered her question.

Her very… childish question.

Once again, however, they did not have time to press for clarity. Krista was sitting up. Fingers scratching at her arm as she eyed the area. “Boy, I am just one sad sack today, aren’t I?”

“Yeah. Kinda,” Hand chuckled. “We’ll get there.”

Her brows drew together, doubt coloring her features but left unsaid this time. “Can we… take a few more minutes? Let me get my head on straight?” And at D’s soft nod, she stretched out. Digging her heel into the ground to slowly spin them.

‘Sleep makes everything better.’

She dozed. Drifting in and out as large, fluffy clouds gathered in the sky. Thinking on her vague ponderings and forgetting them as soon as they were born. Finding solutions to problems. Coming to terms with everything bothering her.

Wondering for a moment if perhaps she was sleeping too much. But thinking that maybe it didn’t bother the Hunter too much considering they were still spinning.

Once again, taking comfort in D being around.

Once again, content in simply existing as her brain sorted its shit out.

The roundabout lurched to a standstill, and her eyes snapped open. Watching the Hunter reach for his sword.

“What is it, D?”

“A Demon.”

Now if she only knew what all ‘Demon’ entailed.

Chapter Text

November 11, 13,012 - Afternoon

Of all the things Krista figured ‘Demon’ entailed, she didn’t imagine a large, black, ridiculously fluffy dog.

She wasn’t really certain what she thought it might be.

Riedikke? Probably. And just the thought of him sent a nasty shiver down her spine. So that probably was more like a big, fat yes.

But a puffy puppy?

Nah.

“Demons look like that?”

The Hunter could hear her incredulity. “Some.”

“Well… how intelligent are they?”

“Hard to say.”

And together, they watched the fuzzy beast prowl through the shadows. Pawing at the ground. Eyeballing them from a distance. Disappearing and reappearing. Like that weird ink you only hear about when jokes are involved.

“I’mma pet it.”

The Hunter’s head whirled around at her declaration with a look that bordered on cross. “You will not.”

She might have been impressed with the display. If not for her sudden determination to do as she wanted. “I’m sorry. What was that?” She cupped her ear. “Do mine ears deceive me? I do believe I just heard you agree!”

The look intensified.

“I did not.”

But she continued on as if he never said a thing. Already creeping forward. Giving the Hunter a wide berth. “We may lose a finger, men!”

Somehow, she danced away from D’s grasp.

“Maybe our hand!”

Another lucky dodge.

“But in our conquest for puppy glory, the sacrifice is well worth the rewards!”

And this was how D found himself marveling at the girl. Because God help her. If she wasn’t motivated, she had the reflexes of a sloth. The agility of a pea. The grace of a tree stump. But give her an objective to shoot for and she was a completely different person.

Trash on a mission, as it were.

She continued her dancing and skittering away from him. And at this point, they both had to wonder if he was even really trying to stop her.

Admittedly, he was a tad curious as to what would happen. He would be near to protect her if needed, but he honestly wanted to see the results of her naiveté. “If you insist upon doing this, you’ll want to catch him before the residents of this town do.”

Krista faltered. No doubt with a question on her tongue. But she seemed to think better of wasting time and scurried forward. D keeping a bit of distance, but still able to rush forward if needed.

“Heeeeeeyyy, puppy.”

The Demon whipped its head about and snorted. Ears laying flat against its head as it stretched one paw towards a neighboring shadow.

“It’s okay,” Krista assured in a soft voice. Hands outstretched and posture small. “It’s okay. I just wanted to say hi. We’re not here to hurt you.”

And with no small amount of incredulity on its part, it eyed the Hunter still grasping his sword.

In answer, she flapped a hand at the man. Taking a few cautious steps forward despite the warning growl the creature released as lips pulled back over a row of shark-like teeth. “Don’t mind him.”

But the creature did mind. The rumbling warning rising as D shifted. Not closer, but not farther away. Grasp on his sword still firm.

Krista moved into its line of sight. Partially blocking its view of the Hunter as she advanced just a bit more. “You hungry? The way D talks, it’s like you shouldn’t be here. So, I’ve gotta assume you came for food, right?”

No answer, but she didn’t really expect one.

She just really hoped this creature was intelligent enough to understand the words coming out of her mouth. With the way the growl was continuing to rise in intensity, she was beginning to have doubts.

But it hadn’t run off yet.

“Hey, D? Will they try to kill him if they find him first?”

“Undoubtedly.”

Determination renewed, her hand settled into the shadows with the Demon as she inched forward. Within touching distance.

Violet eyes widened in alarm, and Krista watched in mild terror as two more sets peeled open. Its jaw unhinging before it lunged and bit into her still-outstretched arm.

Pain.

Sharp and blinding.

Dark and acidic.

“Fucking shit!”

Despite the pain, Krista glanced up, watching as time crawled to a slow, once more, that day.

Watching as dress and flesh shredded and painted too-sharp teeth crimson.

As violet eyes rolled in terror.

As D unsheathed his blade and aimed the tip for the Demon’s head.

And despite the circumstances, the childish girl couldn’t allow D to kill him.

She wrapped an arm around the Demon’s neck and dragged it forward. Twisting and kicking out at D. Not to harm. Just to…

Well… she wasn’t really sure why she chose to kick. But if she had to guess, it was probably a kneejerk reaction intended to make him falter. Make her desires known.

Whatever the case, it worked. D’s hand was stayed, and death did not come for either of them.

“I’m so stupid! I could have gotten myself stabbed just now!”

Even as D agreed, she stayed perched over the canine that looked very surprised. And very confused. The tiniest noise coming from between its bloodied teeth as it looked between the two people.

“I couldn’t let you do it,” she said to D. “He’s just scared. And maybe…” Here she turned her attention back to the Demon. “Maybe you’ll understand I’m not looking to hurt you. And quit biting me.”

Contemplation.

“I just wanted to pet you.”

Indignation.

“And maybe feed you.”

More contemplation.

“You’re smart. You understand, right?”

The violet eyes rolled, and she was sure that if her arm wasn’t occupying its mouth, it’d be nodding.

“So, you let go. D won’t kill you. If food is what you were looking for, we’ll go get it. And I’ll protect you from the people of the town. That sound fair?”

This time she was really hoping it would understand and just. Let. Go.

Because she was beginning to realize that she was being idiotic.

As much as she wanted the creature to understand, she couldn’t make it. And she couldn’t stay here forever with her arm clamped between its teeth.

But thank the Gods for small miracles. It let go. And it looked apologetic, but wary.

Blood quickly soaked her dress sleeve and dripped onto the dry grass below.

“We’ll need to clean that, kid.”

The acidic burn from before seemed to be diminishing, but she did figure a good cleaning was in order. And all at once, she became increasingly more uncomfortable. Aware of how her dress looked.

Of how disgusting she was.

“Yeah. Did y’all already get a room?” At D’s nod, she stood. Gently patting the Demon’s head while pulling her injured arm closer. “Maybe I should just clean up before we eat. I can’t possibly look or smell good. But what are we gonna do about him while I do that?”

There was a small pop before D or his companion could respond, and they all cast their eyes down to the Demon.

The… tiny Demon.

The tiny Demon that was now no larger than a palm-sized puppy.

“That… that works.”

---

Of all the things Krista expected to be doing, she didn’t imagine she’d be smuggling a Demon into a smoke-logged tavern.

In her cloak.

Failing at being inconspicuous.

Eventually just taking the stairs two at a time in her bid to reach their room before anyone could notice. Partly to keep the ‘dog’ hidden. Partly to get clean and patch her arm.

If it didn’t heal before that.

Not that she had to wait long. D unlocked their door with a quiet click and she charged in without taking the time to inspect the room. Promptly seeking out the bags deposited prior to their abrupt entrance.

And Krista stripped of her rags right there in front of God and everybody. Sneering in dismay at the lack of clean underwear as she gathered up every article of clothing she owned, the near-empty medical kit, and a bar of soap. “I’m stealing your soap!” she squealed.

Just as quick, she was gone. The door to the bathroom snapping shut with a bang and leaving behind one resigned Hunter and countenanced carbuncle, and one confused Demon.

However, D said not a word. Merely settling on the bed next to the Demon as they waited.

And waited.

And waited.

The quiet of the room only interrupted by a slew of curses from the petite woman in the bathroom as she proclaimed her idiocy. Screeched out her frustrations in the most subdued way imaginable, followed by the slap of wet cloth against the rubbish bin.

“No… better just let it dry.”

Water hitting the basin.

Her grunting.

And finally – “Hey D? I did a stupid.”

The Hunter watched as she exited the bathroom. Fidgeting with the buckles on her armor as she purposely avoided his gaze. “Wash your clothes?”

“Mmm…”

“And nothing to wear.”

She sighed. “Yeah. I know you’ve seen me like this before. And that I went through that one town long enough to get that dress. But, I’m not sure I’m okay with just traipsing about this town for a while without anything over my armor.” Now, she looked up. Smoothing the bandaging on her arm. “You got anything I can wear for a bit? Pretty please?”

He rose and crossed the room to the saddlebags. A short dig providing him with a cotton poet shirt.

Which he promptly tossed into her face.

“Oh, thanks! It’s so nice!” She fingered the plain, off-white cloth for a moment. Admiring the simple ruffles on the cinched wrists and tall neck. “You sure it’s okay for me to wear this?”

A nod.

“Thank you, again. I will try to keep it clean!”

---

Spoiler alert… she was already failing.

Not that D knew.

He was off… somewhere. Speaking with the tavern keeper about… something.

‘Jobs?’

Maybe. She couldn’t remember. Or maybe just keeping an ear to the ground. Listening for any whisperings regarding their current objective.

And here she was, drink dribbling past her lips as she giggled at the tiny Demon currently lapping at the liquid on her chin and glass.

Some help he was.

But for the moment, she was content to sit there and play with the ‘dog’. Neither of them paying any mind to their surroundings. Because outside their little bubble, it was the typical tavern scene. A cloud of acrid smoke hanging in the air. A few tables seating the too-early-to-be-sensible drunkards. And the handful of patrons that kept disappearing into the back of the establishment.

Not that they cared.

Not until a man, tall and well-built, sauntered up to their table. Soft brown eyes twinkling with interest as he leaned across the table.

Krista felt…

Exposed?

Uncomfortable, for sure. But she couldn’t quite put her finger on the whys.

She pressed a hand to the top of the Demon, keeping him down as she stared up at the stranger. “Can I help you?”

He crossed his arms atop the smooth wood and shot her a charming smile. “I think you certainly can. Care to keep me company?”

The Demon in her lap growled, but at a volume so low she only felt it. “I could, but I’m waiting on someone. He’ll be here in a few minutes.”

“Well, I could buy you a drink.”

Her finger tapped her glass. “I already have one.”

“I was thinking something stiffer.”

“Ice?”

A flash of annoyance crossed his face. Blond brows twitching downward. “Something alcoholic. Something sweet for you to remember me by.”

It was Krista’s turn to pull a face. Her brows pinching in confusion. “Sorry, but why would I need to remember you?”

Another twitch. “I’m looking for a good lay. Maybe after a bit, you’ll keep me in mind.”

More confusion. “Well, I haven’t tried the beds, but I assume they’re plenty comfy. I still don’t know why you’d want me to keep you in mind, though.”

And out came the vein on the man’s forehead as he slapped a hand against the table. “I’m trying to buy your services!” he hissed, effectively drawing the attention of nearby tables. “Now quit being a stupid, prude bitch.”

Krista felt her eyes twitch. That something-dark in her mind writhing in agitation as she stared at the man. Not understanding the sudden change in his mood, but definitely not appreciating it.

She wanted to escape.

Instead, she found herself looking to each side. Above herself. Before turning a critical stare upon the man. “Do I have a sign nailed to my forehead advertisin’ somethin’, you pushy prick?”

Anger, and perhaps embarrassment, colored the man’s face red. Mouth flapping. But any words he was prepared to say died in his throat as a chilled hand grasped his shoulder. He whirled around and flinched back as if he’d been burned. Not managing to shake the hold but making his distaste apparent.

Of course, it was the Hunter standing there. Staring him down with a look that Krista couldn’t quite read, but knew she’d never want directed at her. “I think it’s best you leave,” D warned.

Somehow, the man found his voice, again. Despite the darkening aura D emitted. Throwing over his shoulder at Krista, “I see. Human cock not good enough for you? You’d rather be this thing’s whore, huh? Uppity bitch.”

They watched as he stormed across the tavern and out the door, with D sliding into the chair at her side. And all Krista could think to say was, “What the hell does a rooster have to do with all of this?!”

‘No! That’s not what he-! Ugh!’

But Krista was already gone. Painting a too-vivid picture of a rooster with ‘beefy man arms’ and ‘beefy man legs’. With painfully large teeth occupying its humanoid mouth.

“Does it still have wings?” Hand encouraged.

She thought about it, but ultimately decided it could probably climb or bash down whatever (or whoever) was in its way. Just in time for a waiter to drop off a plate of steak and tomatoes.

“Oh, I didn’t order a steak?” She’d intended grab something at the end to feed the Demon outside. Not now.

“I did,” D said. Taking a moment to stab a knife into the meat. “I would like you to try it.”

She poked a tomato at the dog, watching as he sniffed it. Devoured it. Looked for more. “I’ve had steak before, D.”

“Rare? Medium rare?” D watched her nose scrunch up, but still cut it into chunks. “Try it.”

“D.” Blood was pooling on the plate. “Did they just take the poor thing and drag its ass across the fire a few times?”

He ignored her, pushing the plate into her space.

“You’re serious.”

“Always.”

“Doubt!” She plucked up the nearest chunks of meat. Shoving one into the Demon’s muzzle and the other into her own mouth. And she remembered why she thought about waiting to feed it.

Because her fingers were becoming the food. “Hey! That’s me you’re munchin’ on!”

“… sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Krista muttered, nursing her nibbled fingers. “You’re hungry and I… I…”

Wide green eyes met D’s steely gaze, a similar (if not more subdued) look of surprise there. And together, they turned their eyes to stare at the Demon stretching towards the plate. Watched as the puppified Demon inhaled another few tomatoes and meat bits before freezing.

“You can talk?!”

The exclamation was able to draw, once again, the attention of neighboring tables.

And in a stage-whisper, she said it, again. “You can talk? Why didn’t you talk before?!”

The Demon looked between them for a moment before letting out an audible sigh. “… hard.”

Krista gasped as if she’d just been given an extravagant gift, and everyone would swear she had stars in her eyes. Hands rapidly patting at the air around her cheeks and the table. Small feet lightly stomping.

And then came the weird squeaking accompanied by more hand flaps and full-body shudders.

The Hunter and his companion had only seen her fall into this type of fit a few times. But watching her now? It seemed to stick around for a bit longer. The shudders a bit more prominent.

Even if it was endearing, it was a tad odd.

“Are you okay, kid?”

“Peachy!” she squawked. Body still shaking. Hands coming up beside her head as she hunched over with another set of small squeaks and foot tapping. “I just think that’s so neat! He can talk!”

She turned an ear-to-ear grin upon the hound. “You can talk! That’s amazing!” Her shoulders drew up for a brief moment with another gasping squeak, but she pressed on. “Wha… Ha! I gotta ask the most important question since I don’t know how much you can do this! What’s your name?”

There was a long silence, and while Krista (and, to a small degree, D) was eager to have a name for the Demon, she was content with waiting. Even if it took him another day to answer.

However, eventually, the Demon did answer. A series of syllabic sounds interlaced with hisses that did not help her at all leaving his small muzzle. Any energy Krista previously gained quickly depleted, and her eyes glazed over.

But D nodded once the Demon was finished as if everything made sense. “Would you mind a nickname?” he enquired.

The Demon shook its head.

“I appreciate you both so much right now,” sighed Krista. “Yes! Please accept a nickname because the only way I’m ever going to repeat your true name is if I am under the influence of something. Or if I have knocked myself silly.”

“I’ve heard worse than–“ And out of D’s mouth came the same headache-inducing nonsense.

Krista tried to understand. She really did. But her mind simply could not comprehend the noises. Try as she might, it only left her with a bitter taste in her mouth and a soft throbbing behind her eyes.

She eventually interrupted with, “I vote for Geoffrey!”

A shake of the head.

“Alright. Ricky.”

No.

“Toby?”

Another no.

From her mouth poured a litany of names. All rejected. All very good names in her opinion, but she wouldn’t fuss.

“Billy? No? Damn, that’s a good one, too.”

Much.

“What about Fluffers?”

If there was ever a time for a dog to look affronted, it was then.

The Demon did.

Very much so.

“I’m sorry! I’m running out of names! D!” She slapped at the Hunter’s arm. “Help me!”

Another long silence stretched between them as D pondered. Eyeing the hound critically before eventually deciding, “Erembour.”

In turn, the Demon overemphasized his contemplation. Humming and hawing with his head cocked to one side. Eyes narrowed. But even Krista knew the answer before the puppy head began vigorously nodding.

Thus, Erembour joined the party.

And devoured the rest of the meat on the plate.

“Dude.” Krista pointed her hands at him. “I only got one piece.”

---

D ordered the red-headed girl another slab of meat. Still bleeding, of course. He didn’t eat it. Wouldn’t eat it. But he watched the girl chew thoughtfully. Swallow. Pick up another bite just a bit faster. Suck all the juice out of it. And continue on in that way. Occasionally handing the drained bits over to the (surprisingly) still hungry puppy.

Alright. Perhaps he would have one piece before it was all gone.

Mm.

Still not his preferred food.

At Krista’s inquisitive stare, he lightly shook his head. Thankfully, it was enough of an answer for her. Allowing him to simply sit and begin to ponder and plan their next actions. Think of ways to help her eat better.

The random bouts of hunger were going to kill her. She looked fair for now. But if she lost much more, she’d look sick. She was borderline, as it was.

Perhaps he just needed to murder a few animals on their path and she’d be okay.

If her drinking the bloody juices off the plate was anything to go by.

But perhaps he should just be content that she wasn’t on the verge of vomiting with the size of the steak. Because, if half of an apple was enough to put her there, it should have already hit her.

“Matoes!” the girl suddenly cried.

Just as suddenly, tomato seeds sprayed his chest.

“Sorry!”

A small hand reached out with a napkin, wiping him off.

“Maybe the next one won’t do that.”

The Hunter lifted his napkin just as (predictably) the guts shot out the end of the next tomato.

“Maybe I should just eat them whole.”

And off she went with a mouthful of red berries and her money in hand, paying for their lunch as D gathered the Demon into his arms. Watching as she came skittering back, hands clasped at her chest.

For a moment, she looked like an entirely different person. His shirt left her looking like a child playing dress-up, but she’d managed to make it look more like a dress by wearing her old belt over it. But it wasn’t just her state of dress.

Her skin was a few shades darker than he recalled her having when they first met. Which wasn’t anything out of the ordinary considering all of their traveling and her better health. But having seen beneath her dress earlier, it was odd that she didn’t have any tan lines.

But she looked happier, too. Mischievous. If not a tad tired. And with her mood earlier, he was–

Pop!

Tomato guts painted his vision red, and he cleared his eyes in time to watch the giggling woman take off for the tavern door. Leaving a trail of confused patrons and one overturned chair (which she had fallen over) in her wake.

In his arms, Erembour let out a questioning grunt. But he said nothing, simply sweeping out the door in pursuit of Krista.

Not that he had to look far.

She was just a few feet outside the door, hands covering her face as she coughed and hacked. And a quick glance around provided him with all the information he needed. From the scuffs in the dirt covering the brick street to the few spatters of blood right where her face would have landed.

“You’re just willing to kiss any ol’ thing today, aren’t ya, kid?” Hand teased.

She let out a wet laugh, followed by more hacking. “I don’t know what happened. I was running, and then I wasn’t. My left leg cramped up, I guess. But I don’t…” Another one. Followed by a sniff and another coughing fit. “Ah. It doesn’t matter. I’m just being stupid.”

“You okay?”

“Wha? Oh! Yeah. Peachy.”

They still hadn’t caught a glimpse of her face. But by this point, bright red blood was dripping through her fingers, threatening to soil the shirt she borrowed.

“Y’know, I might need help. I think my nose is broken.”

Yes, she did sound a tad nasally.

The Hunter curled a hand through her hair and pushed her hands out of the way. Feeling of her very broken nose as he kept her head tipped down.  And with some muttered curses and childish stomping from her, he set her broken nose with little issue. Dipping a handkerchief in the nearby trough.

Because, while he could very well lap the blood off his hand, he didn’t figure it would be wise. Or that Krista would appreciate it. And as that dark hunger rose, beckoned by the cloying scent, helping her clean her face busied his hands and preoccupied him enough to tamp it back down.

“Does it make you hungry?”

Well, so much for keeping his mind off it.

“The smell or sight of it?”

The Hunter sighed. Running the damp cloth over her busted lip. “Both.”

It was Krista’s turn to sigh as she scratched at her mending brow. “Well, unless my blood smells bad to you, I can’t imagine I’m helping any. Have you even eaten yet?”

“I will.”

“Gonna filter feed?”

“Perhaps.”

Snerk. “Yeah, okay.” She wasn’t entirely pleased. Hell, she didn’t even know where he would be acquiring his meal. “Y’know, what I said still stands.”

“Hmm?”

“When I was trying to pay you back for biting you?” She paused. “Wait. I guess I didn’t really say… implied? What I mean to say is that I don’t mind if you ever wanna!” And this time, she paused to chomp at the air.

To this, D turned from her and started down the street. Patting Erembour to ensure he was secure and covered. However, he was done with the conversation. Done with her for a moment. Fingers digging into his palm when he realized that, briefly, part of him considered her offer.

“I was being serious,” Krista said as she caught up to him. “But I figure you know that… Oh well. Back to my first mission!”

Like the child she sometimes was, her arm snapped up and displayed a deflated tomato. Which she promptly threw at his forehead. And even faster, she was tearing off down the street with a series of excited giggles.

Long after she disappeared, Erembour whispered, “… play chase?”

Not like he had much choice in the matter.

Well… he did. But not that he would ever admit that he, the fearsome Vampire Hunter, was actively choosing to participate in her childish games. Because in this world where children are forced to grow up too soon, it was still refreshing to see an innocence like hers. Refreshing to allow such little indulgences so long as she kept growing and didn’t let it get in the way of her survival and health (mentally or physically).

---

Krista crouched low on a slanted roof, fighting to hold in her giddy little noises. Fingers struggling to maintain their grip. Knowing D would eventually (hopefully) come looking for her had her in a weird mood that she couldn’t quite understand, but she knew she was happy.

Ridiculously so.

Honestly, she was barely able to focus on listening. She knew she needed to. But… what good would it do if the man never made a sound?

As if on cue, there was a soft sound behind her. A sound that had the fine hairs on the nape of her neck raising in alarm. Her head swiveled about, green eyes searching before she crept to one side to scan the ground.

Nothing.

The other side yielded the same results.

Another noise.

‘He’s gotta be messin’ with you.’

Maybe, but she did not say anything in response. Merely pulling herself over the ridge as quiet as a mouse.

Nothing.

… It was time to leave. Whether or not he was actually there. Possibly watching as she crept away.

“Y’know,” she said aloud. “I bet he’s up above, throwing down rocks or somethin’.”

Not long after, there was a clattering on the roof tiles to her side. She did not gasp. Did not scoff. Her head turned gingerly to the left and angled upwards. And just as she suspected, there was the Hunter. Standing a floor above her. Hand cupped to hold a few pebbles and lips curved in a soft smirk.

Something in her belly clenched.

Nerves?

She wasn’t sure. But she released her grip on the roof and pushed off. Ungracefully running (stumbling) towards the right.

Honestly, she was surprised that, as she dropped off the side of the building, the owners weren’t poking their head out to see what the commotion was. And just as surprised that D was bothering to mess with her.

She guessed she shouldn’t have been. All things considered.

There was a soft thud at her back as she ran down the alley, dodging rubbish bins and skidding around a few corners. Trying with all her might to keep ahead of him but knowing that it wasn’t happening. Not one bit.

The next turn she took threw her onto the main street.

Threw her boot, too, and it tumbled gracefully across the bricks.

The split leather boot must have decided it was time to give up on life as footwear. Perhaps it would rather spend its final days as a street performer. Already, it had a small gaggle of gossipers and ogling onlookers.

Scandalous.

Never mind the small, clumsy girl now running awkwardly down the street missing a shoe. Lamenting the loss. Wondering if it wasn’t for the better.

She’d go back for it.

Eventually.

Once everything was said and done.

Once D had caught her.

If she didn’t run out of steam first.

As it was, compensating for one bare foot was slowing her down.

She had circled back towards the park before she had the thought to ditch her other boot. Without breaking stride, she kicked out with the intent of flinging it off.

Just as D appeared before her and caught her.

For D’s part, he did not react much as her shin collided with his groin.

Aside from his brows furrowing.

And his fingers digging into her shoulders.

“I’m so sorry!” she giggled unconvincingly.

Despite the soft laughing, he knew she was genuinely apologetic. And by the way she was still wiggling her booted foot, it was painfully obvious what her intentions were. “It’s alright,” he eventually murmured as he released his hold on her.

The next moment, he watched her tear off after her rogue boot. Exclaiming that it was too young to be alone, working the streets for money. And he had to wonder how he’d gotten to this point. Where this road was taking him.

“This was supposed to be a simple job.”

Far off in the distance, the thunder rolled.

---

“I gotta figure out a way to make you smile or something!”

The Hunter turned his steely gaze upon the girl at her very random exclamation. “Do you?”

By this point, the group was deeper into the park. Keeping a careful watch on the incoming storm clouds but enjoying the fresh air and subsequent smell of wet earth carried on the breeze.

“Yeah! It’s gonna happen!”

At least she was confident.

“I just don’t know how or when!”

Mostly.

But outside of pondering her possibilities and being miles away within her own head, the girl was quiet as they walked. Simply enjoying the cool winds and companionship. And D could honestly say the same.

Considering the shield surrounding it, there was little happening in the town. Erembour the little aberration in the situation.

It was nice.

“Are we not gonna train some more?”

With a soft shake of his head, D continued on. Eyes on the covered stage not far ahead. And one could accuse him being soft, but he wanted it for the strict purpose of it being a place to rest.

He couldn’t explain it, but he had a feeling Krista might enjoy the downtime. Outside, yes, but with nothing pressing and occupying them.

Perhaps it was from watching her calm down and doze on the roundabout.

It was just starting to sprinkle when D hopped up onto the platform. Hand dipping into his coat as he sat down to retrieve Erembour. And with the tiniest little bark, Erembour hopped down and exploded into his larger form. Stretching out with a muffled groan.

Krista was slow to join the party. Eventually dragging herself over to them. And she dropped like a sack of bricks at their sides.

Her face had that haunted stare, once more.

“Hey, Erembour?” The Demon released a quiet, inquisitive wuff. “You think you’ll stick around with us for a while?”

“… have a choice?”

“Of course.”

There was a long stretch of quiet filled with the rustle of tree leaves and the patter of rain. But it wasn’t a heavy silence. It was companionable.

“… might. It’s something different.”

“Cool.” She pressed her temple against Erembour’s snout momentarily. Face pale. No sign of a smile. “It’ll be fun.”

Another stretch.

“Are you thinking too much, kid?” Hand eventually asked.

“Maybe.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

Her face screwed up. Relaxed. Paled more. And she swallowed down too-thick spit. “Nah. Same shit as before. Just some anxiety. And like you said, too much thinking.” Here she smiled, but it was a mere impression of her normal expression. Not quite reaching her eyes. “I don’t think my brain was meant for all this action.”

Back to silence.

But this time, the Demon shuffled a bit. Turning until he curled around Krista’s head and shoulders. Because if she was going to protect and engage with him, the least he felt he could do was provide a modicum of comfort to her.

Even if that meant he smothered her with his fur.

She was glad to be smothered. Less glad to have her mood plummet abruptly.

So, with the sound of rain to lull her, she closed her eyes. Briefly wondering if it was healthy to sleep away her troubles.

She couldn’t bring herself to care.

Not when Erembour’s bushy tail was thumping softly against her belly and thigh. His breath a slow, steady rhythm in her ear.

Rain pattering against the roof.

A soft, low voice slowly filling the quiet. Dark. Rich. Surrounding them with its dulcet tones. It was a melody she didn’t recognize. Perhaps even in another language. And it certainly wasn’t coming from the Demon.

Krista opened her eyes just as the song began to fade. Momentarily confused and disoriented as she realized she wasn’t surrounded by a mass of black fur, nor the encapsulating aura of the Hunter.

Her surroundings slowly came into focus.

There was no wind.

No rain.

No stage.

No sky to speak of.

Only a black, mirror-like ceiling. Casting back a faint reflection of herself.

“Gods, I look like hammered shit,” she breathed at length. Not at all impressed with the emaciated figure with dark circles under their eyes staring back at her. “Absolute hammered shit.”

“Young lady, you know we don’t speak of ourselves like that in this house,” a soft voice suddenly reprimanded.

Krista snapped up to eye the… man? Woman. Whoo boy.

That was D.

Looking very much like a woman with his hair curled and pinned up in a very beautiful twist. A touch of rouge coloring his cheeks and lips. Dressed to the nines in a pale pink dress and shiny black heels. A frilled, white apron tied about his waist.

“You’re looking very pretty,” she said after her stint of gawking. And the sunniest smile imaginable lifted his (her) painted lips. One she wanted to see more of.

“Thank you, dear. You’re looking very… er…”

“Childish?” she supplied. Very amused and enamored with this personality.

“Yes. I suppose so.” He (She) looked embarrassed and apologetic, but it didn’t last long as he (she) looked over her head. Into the vast darkness stretching into the horizon. As he (she) did, his (her) hands came up to gently clasp her shoulders. Gently rubbing. “But I believe it is time for you to go. You have other duties.”

“Like what?”

“Things to learn. People to meet.” He (she) pressed his (her) lips briefly to her forehead, and even quicker he (she) was turning her about and shoving her into the abyss. “Try not to get into trouble!”

Shocked and panicked, Krista fell for a solid five seconds with an undignified scream. Feeling rather betrayed as she landed with a heavy thump and grunt, right into a myriad of personalities, in all shapes and sizes.

A veritable Sea of Ds.

Just waiting to draw her into its depths and eat her alive.

Was it too late to climb back up to the first D? Hide away from the excessive amount of people clogging the space?

She looked upwards in an attempt to spot the first D. To no avail.

Just a far-reaching blackness and the same mirror-like ceiling.

“Fine,” she muttered. “Places to go. People to see.”

Treading forward into the crowd wasn’t an issue. All of the Ds were busy going about their business. And the farther she went, the more she realized she was in the midst of a very lively city. With buildings that stretched into the ceiling and street vendors peddling their wares.

A thin, wrinkled hand snagged her by the shirt and tugged her in. Gentle, but insistent. “Care to buy a pendant before you go on your way?”

A heavily lined face peered up at her through wiry curls of grey hair. With a hooked nose and a few missing teeth to boot. And so taken aback by the D before her, Krista yelled the first thing that came to mind.

“Dear Gods, you got old and creepy!”

“Oh!” the old crone crowed. “Naughty child! Go away! Oh!”

“I’m so sorry!”

“Go!”

“I’m sure you’re very nice!”

“Git!”

“You just look very different from what I’m used to!”

Another wail. And Krista, pushed forcibly back into the throng, stumbled right into another D.

“The hell?”

The D whipped her around to face him. Dark brows furrowed as he scanned her figure. And as a skeevy grin lifted his lips, Krista could honestly say she didn’t like this one.

Not one bit.

Not when he looked so close to the original D in age and build.

But the way he held himself? Completely different. From the way he walked to the way he talked, D’s presence commanded respect. Whereas this man seemed the type to demand respect, wearing over-the-top leathers and smelling of cheap mead and cologne.

And there was something in the way he eyed her that made her think of Riedikke.

She hated it, and made a mental note to take a sniff of D once this was all done.

“Hey, baby,” he finally started. His stupid grin widening. “You look a little lost. Why don’t you come to my place? I’ll give you the tour.”

Krista backed up but his hold was firm. “No.”

At her refusal, he appeared surprised. Perhaps a bit irritated before he could hide it with another wide, albeit strained, smile. Jerked her close, again. “Don’t worry, doll! I’ll treat you good.”

“I don’t want to be treated good. I want to leave.”

There was a quiet click and a sharp prick to her side.

She didn’t have to look down to know he was threatening her with a knife. Hand placed just so to appear as if he were innocently holding her.

Her mouth opened.

“Scream and I’ll gut you.”

It closed. And her heart skipped a beat.

“So, this change your mind?”

It did.

Fear is a tricky thing. And at that moment, despite not wanting to follow this ‘D’, it dictated she go along with him. Past the small market. Through a few more streets. Down an alley that reeked of piss and booze. The blade now in her back an ever-present motive to keep going.

And once again, she spouted off the first thing that came to mind.

“Is this your home? It suits you.”

Her vision snapped to one side, momentarily blurred as pain exploded along her cheek to her ear. But before she could gather her wits, his hand clapped over her mouth. Squeezing hard enough to bruise.

Part of her wondered what sane person takes verbal jabs at people holding them at knife point from behind.

Not as if it was out of character for her. Her first meeting with the Hunter had gone much the same way. ‘Man, I am stupid. You’d think fear would keep me from saying shit that can get me killed.’

Hindsight is 20/20, however.

Little good it did her now.

Her mind came back to the more pressing matter at hand as the thug curled his free hand further around her belly. Pulling her close to his body. He was speaking, but again…

‘Knife.’

She couldn’t see it in the hand below. Couldn’t see it in the hand across her mouth.

‘If I can’t see it ready to stab me, maybe I can get out of this without turning into a pincushion.’

Not to mention, she highly doubted this man was as strong as the true D. Doubted he had the pain tolerance or constitution, too.

Her mouth opened. Quick enough that he couldn’t react. And she bit down until blood flooded her mouth. Blood that tasted like hot garbage.

He was screaming. Panicking.

‘Shitty copy.’

There was a sharp punch to her side. But she was already pushing against the ground. Driving him into the wall with a grunt. Shaking him loose and running out of the alley.

Straight into another D whose voice was small and timid.

“Oh good! I’m glad I finally… found you…”

Krista was gone. Not pausing to hear what the new D had to say as she weaved through the crowds. Forcing herself to keep running even as each breath sent a sharp pain shooting through her side. A white-hot burn that left her gasping.

Which caused more pain.

More gasping.

But she persisted until she was on the outskirts of the dark town. In a place that looked much like a park. Just as filled with Ds as the rest of the ‘world’. And with dogged determination, she headed for the only structure she could see. Bobbing and weaving and skittering along. Occasionally shoving others out of her way until she reached her destination.

A pretty little gazebo.

She ascended the stairs and collapsed. Gingerly touching her side and grimacing when she felt polished wood and metal.

The touch irritated the wound and left her fingers a tacky mess.

She hissed. “Damn. I might’ve enjoyed looking around if not for that bastard.”

And it was the truth. Despite all of the inhabitants looking like D in some way, and despite there being no identifiable source of light, it was a fascinating place. A small world full of life and quirky little people.

So, while she lied there and debated the practicalities of leaving the blade in her side, she suffered and listened.

Listened to birds sing (and she refused to look for them to see if they resembled her companion, too) and children frolic (that she feared looking at because they could either be unbelievably cute, or they’d be babies with a grown-up D face).

“Aw, I gotta look.”

She rolled over to her good side and peered between the posts at a child scurrying past.

With its tiny curls and cherubesque face, she could declare… it was adorable.

And it made her heart ache.

“Shit, I shouldn’t have looked.”

But she didn’t regret it.

Soft vibrations shook her from her musings of tiny children. Undoubtedly someone coming up to join her.

‘What if it’s that ugly one, again?’

She could look over and see.

She didn’t want to.

“If I die, I will wake up. Then no more pain.”

A soft chuckle. “I’m afraid you wouldn’t want to die here,” said the timid voice. “You die here, you might die out there.”

“Oh. It’s you, again.” With a grunt, Krista rolled over. Eyes immediately drawn to his azure cardigan over his white button-down. He looked… fashionable? “You look cute. Who are you?”

“Oh!” His face flushed prettily, and in his embarrassment, he swept a hand through his short hair. Pushing it out of his bespectacled eyes. “Thank you? I’m D!”

And out his hand came. A hand that was slimmer than D’s. The D’s.

In fact, all of him was slimmer. His shoulders. His waist. His height.

Could height be slim?

She groaned, again. Brain hurting. “I’m thinking stupid things! And you don’t wanna shake this!” Her right hand came up. Caked in fresh and old blood.

He eyed it. Then her face. Down to her side.

“Oh! And I thought your face was bad.” His expression became more severe as he pulled out a handkerchief. “Really pissed that one off, huh? That’s okay.” He wet it with a bit of spit and set about scrubbing her face. Ignoring her muffled ‘ew’. “I should have gotten to you sooner, so it’s partly my fault. But that other girl took a bit more time than I allotted for.”

“Other girl?”

“Yes. You look a lot alike. But you’re a little shorter.”

“Of course I am.”

“And she’s…” He waved his free hand for a moment. Reaching for a word that aptly described the mystery woman. But eventually, he settled for saying, “Well, you will find out soon enough.”

“That doesn’t worry me. Not a bit.”

“Good!”

More spit.

More scrubbing.

And Krista couldn’t help but roll her eyes just a tiny bit. Waiting for him to finish.

“So…”

“So?” he probed.

“As much as I appreciate you cleaning me up, I’m ready to get this show on the road. Should I leave the knife in or take it out?

He eyed the hilt a moment. “Hmm… I don’t know how well you will heal here. It might be best to just leave it for now.”

She was afraid he might say that. So, with a louder-than-necessary grunt, she pulled herself up and away from the D’s attentions. Knowing that if the blade stayed for her mad run, it would stay for a leisurely stroll. But just in case, she pressed her bloodied hand around it.

Only now noticing her lack of weapons. “Great.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” Krista waved him off and lurched down the steps. “C’mon. Guide me. Teach me. Do whatever it is you need to do.”

“I’m simply here to guide you safely… ah…” D paused and made a strained noise as he eyed the knife still jutting out of her.

“How about you tell me why everyone here is a D?” she interrupted. If his expression was anything to go off of, he appreciated the diversion. “You’re all D. Why so different?”

He shrugged. “I can’t explain the whys. Only that… looks do not equate personality. No life is exactly the same. And just because we might share his looks in some way doesn’t mean we came with any of his personality traits.”

“That makes sense, I guess.”

He nodded. “I will warn you, however, that we will start running into personalities that don’t make much sense.”

“Yeah? I’d say it was already that way considering y’all exist at all.”

“That’s rude!” he squawked. “There are things I could say to you that I don’t! Don’t you have a brain-to-mouth filter?!”

“Right now? Apparently not.”

“It’s going to land you in hot water!”

Krista swept a hand grandly over her bloodied midsection with a wry smile. “I think I’ve been there and done that.”

And she watched as he pursed his lips and looked away. Muttering, “You’ll see what’s ridiculous in a bit…”

---

What do you get when you combine inane ideations and people?

Exploding statues.

Yep.

They were currently staring at a statue. A chiseled statue in the likeness of D that shuddered and groaned. Moving forward at a snail’s pace because each step resulted in him shattering.

And occasionally exploding.

Krista felt bad for him, but some part of her honestly thought it was fascinating. Watching him jerk forward an inch, break, and then reform. Only to do it all, again.

Maybe it was also admirable. Because he could give up and ask for help. Or just… do the statue thing.

“Statues statue, don’t they?”

“What?”

“Never mind. Why are we watching this poor D?”

“To prove a point.”

She looked around and took note of all the other D’s inhabiting this part of the ‘world’. It was different. That much she would give him. More barren. With little rhyme or reason behind the personalities she was currently spotting. And they didn’t follow a pattern aside from being an extreme or being too literal.

Want a D that was a polar opposite to the original D?

Here! Have a dark-skinned, fair-haired, small, overdramatic girl wearing the brightest mishmash of colors imaginable.

Don’t get her wrong. Krista thought she still looked lovely. But the emotional range the D was displaying made her head hurt. ‘It’s me on a bad day.’

Then, there was the bodybuilder. Flexing this way and that. Surrounded by a gaggle of seemingly-normal female Ds. And she shuddered.

She could see the beauty in just about any form, but the way his muscles looked ready to burst out of his skin unnerved her. ‘Can he move very well?’

Perhaps it wasn’t so bad. She could, after all, experience every emotion possible on the Hunter. And that was amazing.

They were far past the marble D when her guide threw up a hand. Effectively halting her advancement. “What’s up?”

“Shush.”

Krista raised her upturned hands and cast him a confused stare. But blessedly, she kept her mouth shut and looked around for the cause of his cautious attitude.

There… wasn’t much. More black mirrors and what appeared to be a wall maybe two hundred feet or so out.

Beyond that?

A D.

No. Two Ds.

They were close enough she could make out what they were wearing to a degree. Surprised that they both used a monochromatic color scheme but dressed in vastly different attire. One awash in chaotic patterns continuously shifting and torn jeans. One… surprisingly dashing with his black slacks and button-down shirt, accentuated by a white tie, belt, and shoes.

But the most striking thing to her was that the patterned one seemed to be pacing. Prowling. Back arched and teeth bared as it circled a small area. Bound by something she couldn’t see.

Imprisoned, almost.

And the other D it’s guard. Staring with an intensity she’d never witnessed before at the more feral one.

“What’s going on?”

“Hmm… Core traits. They usually stick to the outskirts, but he must’ve wiggled free.”

There was a short pause as her guide considered his options. Looking about. Inspecting. Planning. Eventually huffing in agitation as he realized they didn’t have many options on the table. “We normally call the one in the box ‘The Clown’.”

“He doesn’t really look like what I would consider a clown?”

“Not in that sense, no. But… let’s put it this way. If the Clown was without his Ringmaster, he’d run amok. Occasionally, he slips out.” He cast her a sidelong glance and ignored the increasingly confused look she was casting back. “We’ve got to move on. It’d be best if we just slipped by.”

And they did. Her guide a few steps ahead of her. Stepping softly. Quietly. But not really watching the D he was trying to fly under the radar of.

Krista was.

She was intrigued by the personalities. ‘Core traits.’ Although, she couldn’t really see how they were. And if this was a creation of her own doing, why would she put such labels on these two particular Ds? Why not any other D?

There had to be something different about them.

They were just past the two Ds, her eyes already turned away, when she heard it.

The hollow ring of someone tapping on glass.

With a soft sigh, Krista turned back around to eye ‘The Clown’. And she was taken aback.

He stood there, hands raised. Fingers pressing into the glass. A too-wide grin stretched across his face. But what really caught her eye was the change in his coloring. No longer a simple black and white scheme.

No.

Now, he was bathed in reds of every shade. The shapes and patterns still as winter-time waters.

Completely different from how she first perceived him.

Krista did not approach, but she also did not back away. She stayed. Watched as he cocked his head one way. Then the other. And eventually curled one finger, beckoning her over.

If she were honest, she wanted to go.

She refrained, and instead shook her head from side to side.

The D’s arm swung around, gesturing at her side. At the blade protruding out.

But again, she shook her head. Finally took a single step back.

The patterns on the D’s shirt swirled. The red flashing brightly for a moment before calming. Lips parting as he purposefully released a puff of hot air to fog up the glass. And with his hand still pressed to the glass, he wrote a message.

‘Come here.’

Another step back.

And again, his shirt flared. Flashing twice.

A warning.

‘Where the hell is the meek D? Surely he could tell me what to do.’

The fist against his invisible prison clenched.

“Forget it.”

Surely if she just ignored him, he would go back to whatever it was that he did.

With this thought in mind, she turned on her heel with the intention of catching up to her guide. Quickly realizing just how much blood she was possibly losing as each step thereafter felt heavier than before.

Her guide appeared. “What are you doing still back here?”

She cupped her side. Jerking a thumb over her shoulder. “He tapped on the glass. Wanted me to come over.”

“Did you?”

“Nope. He didn’t look very happy about me turning around, though.”

Now, he looked over her shoulder. Eyes going wide as his face paled in terror. “We need to run.”

“Why?”

“Dammit! Don’t ask! Just–!

His sentence was cut short by the sound of shattering glass.

Chapter Text

Krista wasn’t sure why she was surprised.

‘Core trait, pfft.’

But she was.

Frozen.

Unmoving as ‘The Clown’ shattered his prison and used his first moments of freedom to close the gap between them in a single leap. Hands wrapping about her stiff shoulders and pulling her up and away from her guide.

Silence.

Deafening.

Stifling.

Hanging about them like a thick fog.

Everyone too afraid to break it and unsure of what would garner a violent reaction. But eventually, Krista whispered in a small, terrified voice, “D?”

Her captor’s head tipped to one side. Much like a dog’s when presented with a noise it couldn’t quite discern. And it was eerie when one considered that this D was a carbon copy of the D. Just slap on a terrifying grin, some headache-inducing clothes, and bam! You had ‘The Clown’.

“Please… put me down.”

She wanted her feet on the ground. Needed it. And surely if they were ‘core traits’, there was some of her D in there. Somewhere.

Maybe.

The Clown’s mouth opened. More clearly revealing shark-like teeth that gleamed and dripped with venom as he smiled and leaned in.

“D, please!”

She didn’t know if she was begging for the Clown to see reason. Or for the Guide to get her out of her predicament. Or for the Ringmaster to come over and put a stop to all this nonsense.

Maybe she begged for all of it.

Whatever the case, the D did pause. And he eyed Krista much like a piece of meat.

A piece of meat that was talking far too much. But also making a bit of sense.

At his back, her Guide was creeping around. Tightly clutching a blade that was more likely to be an irritation rather than a hindrance between two hands. And she was correct in thinking as much. Watching, horrified, as he valiantly attempted to free her. Sinking the blade into the center of his back.

With a snarl and a screech of fury, shirt flashing crimson and shapes jerking about like angry bees, her captor wrenched an arm back. His closed fist striking the Guide across the face. Blood spattering across the mirror-paneled floor.

She was down. But unable to move. Small body jerking futilely against the hand now clasped about her wrist. His hold doing little more than tightening with each tug.

Much more and he might very well break the bones there.

‘Why is he still turned that way?!’

The noise around her fell away. Replaced by a high-pitched whine as her eyes snapped down to her side. Observing the handle of the knife.

‘I can use it.’

Her fingers wrapped around the smooth wood, and she pulled. Screaming through grit teeth. Wanting little more than to curl up in a corner and cry. But instead, she kept her arm moving as the Clown turned about. The blade sinking to the hilt as she struck her target.

A place that would likely take him down for a few minutes. But if past experiences were anything to go off of, it wouldn’t kill him.

His heart.

Previously blown pupils narrowed into slits as the D observed the blade protruding from his chest. Head tipping in confusion.

Irritation.

Lips curving down as he stared at it. As if attempting to burn it away.

Aside, he seemed unfazed. As if it were a mere inconvenience.

An insect on his shirt.

“Shit.”

“Remove it,” he growled. Pulling her close, once more.

Behind him, she could see the Ringmaster finally rising. Shaking his head and turning narrowed eyes upon the three of them. So, perhaps she could buy enough time by distracting him? “No! You’re being a turd!”

His head tipped to the other side, accompanied by an audible pop. The scowl on his face deepening after another moment. “You don’t have a choice.”

“The Hell I don’t!” she screeched. And promptly threw her head forward. Headbutting the end of the knife with all the ferocity of a charging bull.

The attack was not very effective…

Unless one had intended to further agitate him.

If so, it was super effective!

And not far away, another girl could hear the ensuing growl of discontent and scream of terror. Of pain.

Wholly unconcerned about her own wellbeing, she snorted out a short laugh and turned to the one mirror in this strange land that wasn’t black. Its shiny surface reflecting nothing, but a mirror nonetheless.

She pressed her fingers to the surface and was, predictably, met with resistance.

“Damn it all. I shouldn’t hafta have that ditz with me to go through.” She crossed her arms with a huff. “Fine. Guess I’ll go see what she’s got herself into.”

In short? A mess.

She caught the scent of blood long before she saw it. Briefly taken aback by the seemingly large quantities of it spattered across the glossy ground. The eerie silence broken by pitiful whimpers and a voice she recognized as belonging to the Guide.

“Sit still!” he snapped.

The woman rounded a corner. Eyeing the scene before her critically without announcing her presence. Watching as the D, battered and bruised, attempted to stymie the flow of blood. Pulsing in bright vermillion waves past his fingers and the cloth he held.

Krista briefly sagged in his hold. “I really don’t feel too hot.”

“Yes, well, I’m sure you’d feel better had you not provoked the beast!”

“I was trying to stall for time!”

“I didn’t mean now!” He jerked his chin towards the exit before shifting his bloody spectacles with his wrist. Very clearly frustrated. Angry. “I meant out there! In the real world!”

“But I’ve never seen the Clown before now!”

He was unnecessarily rough in tightening the cloth down around her arm. Not faltering as she cried out. And the other woman could now see the cause of the bleed. The exposed and bloodstained bone a grim sight, even to her.

But still, she was silent.

The Guide ripped off another long strip of cloth from his ruined cardigan. Wrapping it over the wound itself. “You never think! Your offering of blood tempts the beast, and then you act surprised when the beast accepts! If you don’t want to get bitten, quit offering him a bite!”

And Krista sputtered. Mouth flapping as she attempted to dissect his statement. Before understanding swept over her. Eyes shining. “My D wouldn’t do this!”

“No! Not your D!” he mocked with a sharp tug on the cloth. “Not your D who’s come close to killing you more than once! You don’t know him! You don’t comprehend that beast he hides!”

“Fuck off!” she spat. Jerking away. Rubbing furiously at her wet eyes.

“If you don’t listen to me here, that beast will be the death of you!”

“She’s not gonna listen,” the woman finally interjected. “I’m in her head all the time. She’s too stupid.”

With a jolt of fear, Krista looked up just to be met with a cold gaze. Electric blue eyes piercing her with their predatory intensity, set within a face she would almost swear was her own. Sharper. Darker. Framed by curls black as pitch.

She felt no comfort in finally having a face to fit the voice.

She was terrified.

The voice should not have a face!

Should not look so uncannily like her!

She stood. Swayed. Eventually fixed a hard stare on the woman before realizing that she was decidedly taller than herself. Even if it was only a few inches. And determined that was wholly unfair.

Determined many things in that short amount of time.

Determined that she wished she didn’t feel intimidated.

“You?!” she finally choked out. Fingers digging into the edge of her wound.

“Me?” The woman gestured at herself, brows raised in a display of confusion. “Me what?”

“Fuck you! That’s what!”

The dark-haired woman suddenly leaned in. Laughing, but far from amused. Finger jabbing Krista in the chest. “Now listen here, ya little dipshit,” she growled.

But anything she’d been prepared to say was put on a back burner as their Guide stepped between them. Hands raised placatingly. “Ladies, please. We need to get you both out of here. Preferably in one piece because neither of you can leave without the other.”

Not at all what Krista wanted to hear.

And the woman could see it in her pretty green eyes. A wicked grin curving her lips. Hair seeming to dance with a life of its own. “That’s right! You’re stuck with me forever!” she sang. “And now, I remember my name.”

Krista wouldn’t lie. She was curious. Horribly so. Wanted a name to go with everything she’d been given. But… “I don’t wanna hear it.”

Any semblance of a smile fled the strange woman’s face. “You’re really startin’ to piss me off.”

Her fingers dug into the wound once more, and she sagged against a neighboring wall. Eyes closing in exhaustion. “I don’t care.”

And the world around them trembled. Glass walls clattering and cracking. Shifting in a way that surely spelled destruction.

“We need to leave. Now. Before she bleeds out.”

And it was only now that the other woman kept her mouth shut. Seeing that things were falling apart and would likely collapse if they didn’t hurry. “C’mon, you.” She wrapped an arm around Krista and hauled her up. Dragging her towards the exit.

“Am I gonna look like shit when I wake up?” Krista asked the Guide.

“You always look like shit.”

She ignored the woman, pointedly staring ahead as she pressed for an answer. “Am I gonna be bleeding everywhere?”

“Unlikely,” the D answered. “Although I can’t say for certain how you will look and feel, you might be tired for a short time.”

“Awesome.”

The floor heaved and in the distance they could hear more glass shatter. Soon followed by the soft pitter-patter and clickity-clack of two vastly different ‘Cores’ running in their direction.

“I think we need to pick up the pace!” the woman urged Krista. But Krista, if anything, seemed to slow down. It was more likely that she wasn’t. That it was just her impatience affecting her perception on things. “Seriously! Come on!”

“Y’know, if dying here really means that I die for good, maybe I should.”

“What?!” the woman screeched. But she didn’t wait for an answer. Rushing them towards the in-line-of-sight mirror. “I know I’m usually all for those dark, fucked up thoughts, but I kinda wanna live! So get your sad ass through that – heugh!”

Both girls toppled over backwards a scant twelve inches from their exit. Watching in shock as the Ringmaster, with his arm wrapped about the Clown’s throat, whirled around. Violently flinging the Clown into the nearest wall with a loud crack.

Despite his dapper appearance, he looked frightfully fierce. Face twisted with a scowl as he lifted the crumpled D by the back of his neck. Tired of his manic counterpart if his expression was anything to go by.

But Krista was less concerned with that. She found herself more transfixed by the disembodied, ethereal hand slipping through the mirror. Its surface rippling like disturbed water as it stretched forward, palm up. Fingers gently curling.

Uncurling.

Gesturing for her to grab hold and follow it through the mirror.

And as the world around them shifted and shuddered, the hand seemed to motion just a tad more urgently. Beckoning with a small hand flap.

She looked to one side. Staring at the woman who was entirely preoccupied with the Clown and the Ringmaster. Her vivid blue eyes staring in wonder as they fought. The Clown using his fists and teeth. The Ringmaster brandishing a blade that – while invisible – was stained red.

They were almost equally matched at the moment.

Back to the hand her eyes went. And without much thought, she stood.

Quickly.

Quietly.

Slipping her hand into the other without much concern.

It felt like… D.

Less substantial. But that strange mix of protective warmth and bringer-of-death chill that danced across her fingers was undeniable. So very D in how the digits felt when laced with her own. So very comforting, because she didn’t mind that he killed for a living. He didn’t seem the type to kill without reason.

So, why should she ever fear a man like the Hunter?

Even if ‘the Clown’ lie buried somewhere within him.

The hand gave a soft tug. Retreating through the mirror with her in tow.

‘So maybe I don’t want to die.’

Krista stepped through. Eyes closing as the frigid liquid washed over her. Bringing with it a small revelation. One she couldn’t quite give words to but could feel.

Her left hand curled around the edge of the mirror. Still steadily dripping blood. But she moved no further. Gently pulling back against the phantasmal hand until she could turn about and look at the mirror.

On the other side was chaos. Entire walls crumpled down as the two Ds continued their battle for dominance. And the woman amongst the wreckage, staring in terror at the mirror.

She could leave her.

Be rid of one of her problems.

…

No. She couldn’t.

‘We’re gonna have to figure something out. But I can’t just ‘kill’ her.’

She pushed her hand through just a bit more. Just enough to do as the hand before her did.

Wiggle wiggle.

The woman, with her brows drawn together, relieved, grinned and lunged for the proffered hand. Crashing through the mirror without all the mess.

“Damn! I thought you’d left me!”

Krista rolled her eyes and slowly trailed along after the hand. “Yeah. For as much as I’d like to not deal with you, I couldn’t.”

“Watch it.”

“Don’t be a turd and I won’t say shit you don’t like.”

The woman said nothing. Huffing. Arms crossed. Unwilling to admit to any such nonsense.

“But I am really tired,” Krista started. “I feel like I could sleep for days.” A short pause. “I don’t know why I’m even asking, but how are you?”

“Better than you.”

“Fair enough.”

“Look, can ya just focus on leavin’? Walkin’ is nice and all, but I don’t wanna be stuck here forever.”

“Well… I don’t know how to leave. I thought you might.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

And here, Krista laughed, albeit a bit dryly. “We’ve said that word a lot today.”

“What? Fuck?”

“Mmhmm.”

“So? It’s a good word! Lots of emotion behind it. You should try sayin’ it more!”

Krista didn’t have time to respond. Cringing in dread and terror as something that felt particularly invasive forced itself into her thoughts. And she felt that, if she were to turn around, she would not care for what she saw.

“I think something is here that isn’t meant to be.”

The woman faltered. Eyeing the dark, featureless surroundings. Seeing nothing. But pointedly not turning around to look.

“Okay. So… perhaps now is the time to focus on leaving?”

“Well, I’m starting to think that… I might be asleep. My wounds aren’t hurting anymore.”

They both took a look at her arm. And sure enough, it was on the road to recovery. No longer bleeding. Flesh building back up.

“Pinch me.”

“Gladly!” The woman reached over and pinched her underarm. The most painful stretch of flesh to tweak.

Krista felt it, but the pain was muted. Everything was still dark and bleak.

And suddenly, the woman was flying away from her with a shrieked curse. A familiar figure standing before her. Vermillion shirt throbbing. Shapes swirling as the skin around his eyes blackened and his mouth gaped.

He leaned in.

Krista screamed. Throat burning with the strain as she kicked at the figure hovering over her. Arms swinging in her panic. Fingers digging into his crimson eyes. Attempting to push back the blood-thirsty beast.

A low, soft rumbling filled the air. A noise she immediately recognized. And as the fog cleared from her mind, she could see for certain that it was her D. A little scratched up, but her D. Giving her an unreadable look. But if she had to guess…

He looked concerned.

She couldn’t say for sure.

“Gods, I am so sorry D,” she gasped. Unbothered by her pinned position. Unconcerned with the all-over ache she currently felt. A tad upset that she’d probably beaten Erembour away. “I didn’t think… you were you. I thought you were…”

She stopped, because saying ‘I thought you were bad you’ just sounded childish. And there wasn’t a bad D, per se.

“Sorry,” she murmured again. Ashamed that she didn’t immediately see a difference between D and the Clown. “I didn’t mean to claw at your eyes.”

“It’s alright.” He sat back on his haunches. Hands still clasping her wrists. “Are you here?”

“Am I here?”

“Awake?”

“I sure hope so!” she chirped.

Now he released his hold on her. Standing back but eyeing her thoughtfully. “Bad dream?”

“I guess so.” And without any prodding, she explained the gist of her dream. Not delving too deep. Not mentioning that each character was a D. But just enough.

Just enough to start the churning in D’s brain.

Sure, he had seen her flailing. Had decided to reach out to her once he realized she wasn’t strictly sleeping. But the cause?

He couldn’t say for certain, but the entire ‘dream’ felt… self-imposed. “What do you know of psychological attacks?”

Her brows furrowed. Nose scrunched. Mouth gaped. “Is that a fancy way of saying ‘stroke’? Or ‘anxiety’? ‘Depression’?”

“No, it’s not,” Hand laughed. “But it is an interesting way to look at it.”

“Then… what? An attack launched on your mental…” She massaged the air around her head. Face scrunched in thought. “Mental state? Mental you? Mental mental.”

“Very eloquently put.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re on the right track,” D said. “If you kill the mind, you kill the person. Tricking the opponent into thinking what is happening is reality certainly helps, but there is always something that tells you it is not.”

“So… why tell me this?”

“Your ‘dream’ was a moderate attack. Could you tell?”

She snorted unattractively. Gingerly sitting up and feeling the full effects of her adventures. “If I hadn’t, I would question my own sanity. Because each player in my dream was you… in some way.”

“Me?”

“Yeah!” she exclaimed. Eyes alight with wonder. “All different yous! But still you in some way. I’d be okay with going there again, honestly. Maybe not make so many angry.”

And now, everything made more sense. But he said nothing. Quietly speculating and coming to conclusions as Krista babbled. Stood. Circled the stage and its occupants as she talked.

D frowned after a moment. Not entirely liking the fact that she experienced the attack in the first place, but if it was formed in her own mind there wasn’t much to be done. He couldn’t hunt down the person responsible.

That would just be redundant.

Silly.

At his back, Krista suddenly buried her nose in his hair and sniffed with the force of a horde of dogs. Gently patting his shoulders after a moment. And at his curious gaze, she sheepishly smiled. “I told myself I’d smell you once I left… here.” She circled back around to Erembour, pointing at her temple with a shrug. “You smell much better than that guy that stabbed me.”

“Yeah?” Hand asked. “What does he smell like?”

“Strong. I can’t put my finger on what it is, but it makes me think of… something not hot. But spicy.” Her face scrunched up and she put a hand to her head. Rubbing. Gingerly grinning after a moment as she sank to her knees. “And apparently gives me headaches to think about?”

Concerning.

“Ah. It doesn’t matter.”

It did.

“Why don’t you teach me more about… things? Thingy things!”

Classy subject change. But he would go with it for now. “What would you like to know?”

“Everything! I want to know about you! Or Dhampirs? Nobles! Those giant dogs!” She reached out and planted a hand in Erembour’s fur. “Demons!”

The Demon groaned. Rolled onto his stomach and eyed her.

“I’d ask you, but you already said it makes you tired to talk.”

He rolled his eyes. Muttering, “… true.”

“So!” Krista inched closer to the Hunter. “Please!” Another small scoot forward. Grin wide. “I want to learn about the things in this world the orphanage never taught me. And if I know of something, I’ll tell you!”

“Alright.”

And the next few hours were spent there on the stage. Secluded. Krista attempting to absorb everything D told her. From Nobles and their settlement on the Moon, to Shifters and Mints.

“The ones you eat?”

“The ones that eat you.”

“Ew!”

He told her of Mutants and the Clan of the Barbarois. Living indebted to the Nobility for their flourishing life and land. Their life previously on the brink of ending due to toxic fumes.

He told her of previous adversaries and clients. Of being offered a place by the sea, to live as a fisherman. And he could see in her pale-green eyes that she was thankful. Appreciative that he was keeping her desire to know more about him in mind.

And that she was amused by Hand’s more colorful, embellished stories.

Outside their little world, skies darkened. Winds cooling and clouds roiling as the storm built. Rain dripping off the edge of their shelter.

And eventually, all talk ceased. A companionable silence enveloping them.

For at least a moment.

“D?” Krista started. “I don’t think you ever said. Does running water bother you? Assuming there is a difference between bathing and walking through rain.”

“It does not.”

“Are there many Dhampirs affected by it?”

“Yes.”

Here, Krista frowned. Turning to eye the rain. “That’s… sad. Rain is so refreshing. If I couldn’t just be in the rain… I don’t know what I’d do.”

“You’d not know anything different. Perhaps you would long for it, but it would never be within reach.”

Krista’s face fell even more. Very obviously off-put by his very logical observation. “That sounds right, but I hate it. Thanks!”

Without another word, he watched her shirk his shirt and slide out into the rain. Eyes closed as she soaked it in. And like a snake, Erembour followed. Slinking off into the evening shadows with a low groan. Fur plastered to his skin.

As the Hunter stepped into the downpour, he honestly expected nothing less of the girl. And he could admit that it was a shame more of his kind could not enjoy such a small thing.

---

Night settled upon the town. Blanketing the community in darkness broken only by the intermittent lightning. Briefly illuminating the tavern room occupied by two lovers. Softly panting and moaning as they fell upon the bed.

Krista, in the midst of gathering items for another bath (because wrestling with Erembour had become a thing), paused. Cocking her head to one side. Hearing the soft noises floating from the neighboring room. “What’s that?”

“Our neighbors.”

“Okay, but… should we check on them?”

With a silent shake of his head, D stripped of his coat. Watching as the girl stared in horror. Mouth gaping.

“But they sound like they’re in pain!”

Hand chuckled. “They’re fine, kid. Quit worrying.”

Now, Krista kneeled on the bed to press her ear to the wall. Her brows furrowed before she muttered, “Why else would they moan? They must be in pain.”

The countenanced carbuncle outright laughed, his chortles serving to temporarily mask the noises.

And render D’s arm practically useless as it shook with the force.

Not that he needed it.

“I’m so glad you find this funny, Hand.” But she didn’t move. Listening intently for more sounds of distress. “They could be dying! And you’re just gonna laugh it up!”

A cool hand pressed into her shoulder, guiding her down to her rear and away from the wall. And she blinked owlishly at the Hunter in surprise. Taking in the assortment of items cradled in his still-quivering left arm. “Going to bathe?”

“I am.”

“Alright. Have fun! I’ll just sit here and…”

“Eavesdrop?”

She squawked. Face flushing. Unable to retort as she watched him disappear into the bathroom. Leaving her to stretch out and listen to the spray of the shower and the endeavors of their neighbors. Try to fathom the reasons for their groaning.

Was it a strange new language?

A new style of singing?

An incantation?

She scratched at her head. Staring into the dim room before yelling, “Why are y’all makin’ all that noise?!”

Silence.

Faintly, she heard D shift beneath the water, quelling Hand’s laughter. From the other room? Soft giggles and whispered words. Followed by the harsh squeal of a mattress spring.

It answered nothing.

Only made her wonder why they were now bouncing on the bed.

The longer she stared into the darkness, the warmer she felt. Skin prickling and belly feeling strangely aflutter.

Anxious.

A soft sigh.

“Sounds nice, huh.”

It still almost surprised her just how easily the lilting voice left her lips.

“Hmm?”

“Y’know. What they’re doing.”

Krista scoffed. “No. Sounds painful. But if they say they’re fine, I guess I shouldn’t worry.”

Was this going to be the new norm? Conversing with herself, but having someone answer back?

“Have you always been this dense? This innocent?”

“I didn’t think I was.”

“Then tell me how babies are made,” the voice challenged.

She couldn’t, and the voice knew. Laughing victoriously when Krista’s face scrunched in displeasure. “Why don’t you tell me?”

“Don’t wanna. I want you to stay in the dark a little while longer.”

Another long stretch of silence.

“Well… maybe D will tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

With a start, Krista jolted upwards. Embarrassed. Eyes to the ground as she skittered across the room. “Shower first! I’ll ask in a bit!”

This time, it was D left in the dimly lit room as Krista ran into the bathroom. Doubling back long enough to snatch up a very reluctant, very muddy Demon.

“Still givin’ it Hell in there, aren’t they?” Hand chortled after a moment. His answer a soft hum. “Think that Demon will stick around long? You know how his kind are.”

“Who can say?” the Hunter murmured. Bending down to dig for a whetstone and oil. And everything he would need to polish and clean up. “Perhaps our travels will appease that wandering nature. Perhaps he will decide he is better suited to travel alone.”

Silence.

A shrill screech suddenly filled the air. And D was across the room, blade at the ready, before he heard Krista yell, “Holy Gods! Why is this so hot?! Does he use cold water?!”

Ah.

“Well, you can’t say you won’t know when she’s in danger.”

True.

---

Bathing Erembour should have been easier than it was.

Despite his intelligence, he still managed to act like a proper bath-phobic dog.

“Erembour, seriously! Are you really gonna act like this?”

“I hate water.”

“You can’t sleep in the bed with me if you are covered in mud and smell like Death!”

“I’m supposed to smell like Death.”

“Not in my house!”

After half an hour of furious scrubbing (something her sore, tired body wholeheartedly protested), the Demon was reborn.

He was unhappy (secretly proud), but he was clean. Looking like a proper sheep.

“Thank you for letting me clean you!” He grumbled out a reply she couldn’t quite hear, but his tail was up and wagging as she opened the bathroom door long enough to release him. And with a sigh, she rubbed her eyes with the sleeve of her dress.

Her very hairy dress that she was thankful for, if only for a moment.

She looked it over, eyeing the tears and the coloring.

Washing it had done very little to rid it of the bloodstains.

“Time for the trash. And I won’t pull you back out."

There was no response. But she didn’t really expect one. Not when the tattered mess was already slamming into the bin with all the fury she could muster.

As it was, she figured she would simply wear D’s shirt one more time. But not tonight. It was in the other room, folded and on the end table. Which meant she wouldn’t have anything but her armor.

Did it really bother her?

Her stomach cramped just a bit as she began unhooking the clasps on her armor. Stripping and gingerly stepping into the shower.

Nerves?

She didn’t feel particularly nervous. Maybe slightly nauseated. But maybe she just got a little too wet and cold and riled up.

Her quick scrub didn’t help. Neither did the warmth.

Outside the shower, she didn’t feel much better. Dry, but stomach decidedly upset. Naked, but too warm as she dabbed at her armor and cleaned it up. Dried it off. And eventually began wiggling into the worn leather.

Despite feeling ill, there was something so very comforting in the way the armor conformed to her shape. Sure, she only had protection over her torso and groin, but it felt secure. Even if she should have been protected from most of her wounds.

So, perhaps her armor didn’t serve much purpose. But it made her feel safe.

“Gods, I feel like crap,” she sighed. Taking a moment to unbind any pinched skin around her thighs and tie up unused straps before she leaned over the sink. “And I forgot my underwear.”

She turned her eyes to the small pile of undergarments set off to one side. Neatly folded by hands that weren’t her own.

That, she would admit, was embarrassing. But more concerning was the ever-increasing cramp in her belly.

Hot water flooded her mouth and she spit into the basin.

“You look like you’re gonna puke.”

Bile dripped between clenched teeth. She wanted to tell the voice (the girl) to bugger off. But anything she was prepared to say died in her throat when she looked up at the mirror. Staring into the face of the woman from her… ‘dream’. Blue eyes overly vibrant considering the condensation clouding the reflective glass.

Lips curled into a smirk.

“Don’t look so surprised. In fact, you might start seein’ more of me soon.”

She shook her head, stomach churning and gurgling unhappily. “Go ‘way.”

“Nah.” Her head cocked to one side. “I’m tired of being here. And you’re weak.”

Another cramp. And this time, stomach juices the color of the evening sun spattered against the basin.

‘Blood?’

She heaved again. Sagging against the sink before she could get another look.

Yes, it did look worryingly red. But her mind supplied that it likely wasn’t from lunch. It would have been brown by that point.

Then why was it red?

Running water in the sink, Krista chanced a glance at the mirror.

Nothing.

Nothing at all.

Honestly, no reflection seemed easier to stomach in that moment. Much easier than staring into that sneering woman’s eyes.

---

D silently closed the door to the bathroom. Crossing the floor to his sword where it rested on the left side of the bed. Unfinished. Unpolished.

The Hunter was… definitely leaning towards feeling concerned.

Troubled.

Only time would tell just how much of a problem the blue-eyed entity would be. Because, at this point, it was already an issue. The cause for the girl’s sickness? He couldn’t say for sure, but he was inclined to believe it was.

“D? I think it’s sharp enough.”

True to Hand’s observation, D studied the blade in his grasp and found the edge excessively sharp. He clucked his tongue with distaste and set about polishing the blade. An almost strained silence settling about the room.

“Worrying about what will come of this won’t do much good,” Hand eventually said. “I admit that the other entity is worrisome. Sounds like she wants to fight for control. But at this rate, she will have to figure it out and fight on her own.”

“I am aware,” D replied. Continuing to polish the blade.

“Then why fret?”

To describe the Hunter as someone who frets was a bit of an exaggeration.

Mulling was a more apt description.

With an uncharacteristic sigh, D gingerly ran a fingertip down the edge. Satisfied with the end result. But that’s as far as that went as he attempted to mentally piece together a puzzle he didn’t have all the pieces to.

The door to the bathroom opened with a quiet creak.

D glanced upwards, eyes tracking Krista through the room as she set about depositing her bathing items and underwear. And while the girl and the term ‘graceful’ had never gone hand-in-hand, she seemed even less blessed with grace than usual. Lurching about and looking positively ill.

One misplaced step was all it took to send her tumbling. Landing facedown with a soft fwump in D’s blessedly blade-free lap. That she was prompt to shove herself out of as she thanked the Gods that be for the Hunter’s quick reflexes. “Sorry, D. I… really don’t feel good.”

And with a disproportionately loud grunt from her petite body, she scuttled up onto the bed. Pausing just long enough for D to gently brush his knuckles across her feverish forehead before turning and lying atop the duvet. Limbs stretched out.

“Where’d Erembour go?” she asked after a long while.

A low grumble answered her, and she lifted her face from her pillow just as the bed dipped beneath the Demon’s weight. His large form gingerly making its way over her before slotting itself between her and D.

“That didn’t mean you had to get in the bed if you didn’t want to.”

“… wanted to. So hush.”

Well, he didn’t have to tell her twice.

And with nothing else to do but rest and suffer, she found her eyes wandering back to the Hunter.

A very… shirtless Hunter.

Was he without his armor and shirt before she came out?

Yes. She supposed he must have been. But it still came as a surprise to see the intimidating man so open and defenseless. And she had to admit that the armor typically adorning the man left little to the imagination.

Even still, she studied him. Determined to memorize as much as possible. Everything from the shade of his strikingly pale skin to the barely-there scar from one-too-many stabs to the heart.

Honestly, she’d never been one to sit and admire another’s body. Too focused on avoiding potential bullies or trying to make sense of the world she knew. Even fleeting fancies had never been about looks. And after a few propositions for lunch outside the cafeteria ended in her prospects ridiculing her and saying words she was sure were meant to be insults, she stopped looking altogether.

Strange how people who acted nice were not always nice.

With a huff, Krista let her gaze follow the curve of D’s spine. Up to his enviously thick hair. Across his broad shoulders. Along each crease that outlined his musculature.

She twisted. Curling around Erembour to better see the Hunter until she was stretched across the pillows.

Again, she wasn’t normally one to pay attention to looks, but Krista could admit that the man was very handsome. Very well built. And she was not embarrassed to admit that she was enjoying the opportunity to observe him as he continued his maintenance on his miscellaneous weapons and armor.

D, for the most part, was unbothered by her studious stare. Inclining his head when she realized she’d been caught and gave him a weak grin. But he would let her have her fill. Continuing the methodical back and forth motion as he polished a broad-bladed hunting knife.

Overall, it was pleasant.

Well… ‘was’ being the operative word.

It was less pleasant when your sickly charge was massaging the nipple nearest to their hand. Staring with an intensity that would unnerve some of the most seasoned men as the muscle beneath rippled in agitation.

Should he feel bad if his first thought was to break the small finger (before he remembered who was attached to it)?

“What are you doing?” he eventually enquired, slim brows cocked.

“Since I have these, I thought girls were the only ones with them. But you have them too. What are they? Or… what are they for?”

“You’ve never seen a nipple that wasn’t your own?” He wouldn’t lie. He was a tad incredulous.

“Um… no. I don’t think I have.”

D leaned away from her probing finger, but she followed. Intent.

“You don’t tend to see much of anything when you’re forced into a separate changing room during physical education. And there were rules against going shirtless. So…” She circled her finger about his areola once more before looking down to her own chest. Contemplating. “What are they for?”

Now, the Hunter was sure the girl could see his brows climbing towards his hairline. Certain she wasn’t serious. “For women, they are for feeding their young.”

Her face scrunched up a bit more. “So… if boys have them, does that mean they can feed babies too?”

“I suppose some, if not many, have the capability to do so,” he said. Setting his blade and stone to one side as he turned to face her fully. Now beginning to question just how little she knew. Surely she knew the basics of Human anatomy. Being unaware of some of the most prevalent creatures inhabiting this world was strange enough, but to be unaware of her own body and its functions?

At her age?

“And you said it is mainly women who carry babies, right?” Krista continued. “Can you show me how babies are made?”

A heavy beat of silence.

When D shifted to rise from the bed, she grabbed hold of his wrist. Tugging. Watery eyes pleading. “This is what I wanted to ask earlier.”

Still, he stood. Gingerly removing himself from her grasp. “You should have learned this in your classes.” He passed the cloth between hands. Left arm beginning to quiver as Hand soundlessly chortled at the situation.

“But I didn’t.”

They met eyes. Krista searching for answers. D searching for any signs of trickery. Neither finding what they hoped to.

And for some reason, she felt ashamed. “I know the basics. Bones, muscles, digestive, et cetera. But you tell me what makes girls and boys different? Aside from having a more rounded chest, I can’t say. Aside from XX and XY, I can’t say!” Her voice rose. Angry and desperate. “Because everyone at that damned place decided that all talk of reproduction and shit they felt I wasn’t allowed to know was strictly forbidden!”

Silence.

Krista went limp against the bed. Huffing softly and swallowing thickly as her scalp crawled and her eyes watered. But otherwise, her face was eerily blank.

“Despite all that,” she started, rubbing her face into the duvet, “Miss Haldwyn wasn’t everyone else. I went to her for most everything. Asked her if she would teach me about reproduction. And she tried. Taught me to keep my no-no squares covered. But someone found out. Probably overheard me asking her at the school. And I didn’t see her for a few days.

“And I know I must look childish. Asking these questions. Acting like it’s the end of the world. But what’s the harm in knowing? Who does it hurt?”

The best questions, honestly.

The Hunter could theorize what might have happened. Wondering if, while under the rule of the Nobles, the orphanage director had decided there should be no chance for Krista to procreate. And what better way than to ostracize her and limit her knowledge of her own body?

And that meant no sexual education.

“Do you menstruate?”

Krista pulled her face from the bed. Eyes worryingly bereft of understanding. “Do I… men straight?”

Dear God, help him. “Do you bleed?”

Now, she looked very concerned. “D? Are you alright? You’ve seen me bleed.”

Now, in a very out of character display of emotion, his brows came together, and he pinched the bridge of his nose. Slim lips drawn tight as he sighed. Briefly wondering how they’d come to this moment. To this conversation. “Do you bleed from your… no-no square?”

She looked first at her chest. Then towards her groin. Back up at D. “Why would I bleed from there?!”

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’.”

“But why would you even ask that?!”

“Kid, listen,” Hand interjected. “It’s not important right now. It’s just hard to think that you were never told anything about your body. Or any body.”

She blew a raspberry.

“As for showing you how babies are made…”

“I cannot do that,” D finished. Watching as her face dropped and twisted. Dejected. Before she began kicking her feet. Not enough to be violent, but enough to convey her frustrations. He pressed a hand to her too-warm neck, and she stilled with a soft whine. “I cannot show you. Not today.”

“Tell me someday?”

“Perhaps.”

Unappeased but not willing to fight, Krista bowed her head. Slowly pushing herself to her side of the bed. Wriggling beneath the blankets with Erembour.

Yes, she would drop it for now. Still not caring for the unfairness of it all. But holding on to the hope that D would indeed someday tell her how babies babied.

---

The door to the mausoleum fell open beneath Laun’s hand. Grinding and groaning. Revealing a decrepit crypt that’d scant seen the light of day. And wasn’t likely to in the foreseeable future.

He closed it. Watching with mild interest as the walls and tombs shifted. Near soundless as they created a staircase leading down into darkness. And far in the distance, he could hear an alarm screeching at a frequency so high most Humans would be unable to detect it.

Down he went.

Down until stone turned to steel. Eyes, mechanical in nature but appearing very organic, bulging out of the ceiling. Studying him for a moment before retreating. And with a screech, the wall before him was snapping open. The alarm clicking off.

“Welcome back, Lord Laun,” a soft voice spoke as he stepped into the small room. “Doctor Edmont has requested your presence in his lab. Would you like to head there now?”

“That would be fine, Anyd. Thank you.”

“My pleasure, my Lord.”

With a thrumming hum, the chamber lurched forward. Whisking him through a small network of tunnels before taking him down with a speed that made his stomach churn. “Did Doctor Edmont happen to mention the reason for this meeting?”

Surely, it had to be urgent to warrant this speed.

“My apologies. He did not say, but I believe it has to do with the task you’ve given him.”

Another sharp change in direction.

“If my sensors are correct, he is not having much success.”

Everything ground to a very sudden halt. The braking mechanics squealing with strain. And when the doors opened, Laun went tumbling out. Appearing no worse for wear but feeling very unsettled. “Anyd?”

The chamber closed. Whisked away to another section. But one lone eye formed and rolled over the area. Eventually settling upon his perturbed visage. “Yes, Lord Laun?”

“Why the rush?”

The metal surrounding the eye curved inwards on one side. Giving the impression of a sly smile. “You know I am not permitted to speak on certain things.” It reverted back to its wide, unblinking state. “Besides, I feel… anxious.”

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes, I believe everything is… nominal.”

He didn’t believe Anyd.

“Have a pleasant night, my Lord.”

She was gone before he could press her for more. Eye sinking into the ceiling with a sickly squelch. “Anyd, if you ever need to tell me something, please do not hesitate.”

He didn’t receive an answer. But he didn’t necessarily expect one.

Instead, he turned down the hall. Towards the long, honeycomb structured facility. The first room he would soon occupy much like the others further in that were framed by many doors. Many windows. All of the rooms currently devoid of life.

Devoid of color.

Devoid of furniture.

They were honestly depressing.

But the first was the lab. A room he knew to be filled with a multitude of machines. A few tables. One operation table. Fluids and chemicals.

Things Laun had no hope of understanding any time soon.

There was an explosion. Door rattling violently. Smoke billowing through the cracks.

Laun rushed in. Eyes watering as the clouded, acrid air immediately sent his lungs into spasm. “Edmont?!” he croaked. “Edmont, are you alright?!”

A wall to his left that he could not see split open with a loud hiss. The noise followed closely by hoarse coughing and a machine kicking on with a loud whir.

Slowly, the air cleared. Smoke drawn out of the rooms and into the small vent in the ceiling. Gradually revealing a very disheveled azure-haired man. Everything from his protective clothes to his dark skin covered in unidentifiable fluids and soot.

With a soft sigh, the man removed the cracked spectacles hanging off one ear. Narrowed golden eyes studying the cracked lenses and warped frame with a small sneer. “I’m fine, Laun,” he eventually answered, pocketing the glasses. “Just another trial gone awry. Might’ve killed him.”

From the other room, a voice not dissimilar to Laun’s interjected, “Nah, Doc. I’m okay.”

A noise that had his stomach rolling filled the brief silence. Much like a raw slab of meat slapping against the ground.

With a copious amount of fluids.

Chunky fluids.

“I lied,” the voice called again. “My leg’s fallen off.”

Another wet schlop.

Edmont ran his slim fingers through his shaggy hair. Briefly tugging at a few strands before he mustered up the courage to ask, “What fell off this time?”

No reply came from the room.

“Might’ve killed him,” he reiterated. “Damn, he was one of the nicer ones.”

“Is this what you summoned me for?” Laun guessed.

“No.” Another sigh. And he turned towards the room as if to go in, but he faltered. “Well, not entirely. I called you before I started.”

“Tell me about it.”

Slowly, the Doctor plodded over to a console. Tapping a few keys. Eyeing the monitors before initiating a small lockdown. And together, they watched as shutters fell over the windows and already bright lights flared with life. Small spherical machines pouring from the ceiling to clean.

The neighboring wall lowered. Revealing to the two men and the cleaners a surgical table.

A slightly disfigured table covered in green sludge that spilled off the sides and piled up on the floor. Smelling of putrefied flesh and… freshly cut grass?

Edmont’s nose wrinkled further. And Laun released a soft puff of air. A poorly disguised laugh if ever there was one. He gently shoulder-bumped the distraught scientist. “Don’t make that face, Eddie. We might be doing more harm than good, but we’ll get there.”

“No. No.” The scientist waved a hand dismissively. Shoulders sagging wearily. “Part of me is almost glad to see one less clone running about, even if he was a good egg. I’m just… missing them. More than usual.”

Ah. Them.

“You know that genetic manipulation is not my forte. Never was. Likely will never be.”

Yes, Laun did know this. However, he said nothing. Merely followed along as Edmont navigated his way around the discombobulated lab. To another wall that, with the press of a button, revealed a thin spiral staircase winding up into a darkened room.

Up they went. Allowing the robots to do their business.

“I just don’t understand what went wrong.” Edmont flipped a switch at the top and illuminated a cramped and (from Laun’s perspective) unorganized bedroom. The long desk against the wall covered in piles of scribbled notes and figures. “I thought I’d finally stumbled upon a solution. Instead?”

He didn’t say, but Laun could practically hear Edmont screeching. Asking the Gods what would cause an explosion.

Why he was such a disaster with anything biological.

“If they were here, they could tell me what I did wrong.” And now came the frustration. Twisting the scientist’s face as he swept off the nearest stack of notes. Sitting with an air of defeat in the cleared space. “Or we wouldn’t be dealing with any of this at all!”

A stretch of heavy silence.

“What in the fuck was even explosive?!”

And as Edmont pressed his nails to his scalp, digging and tugging at his bright hair, Laun was there. Pulling the dirty man into his chest with a quiet ‘shh’. Replacing the dark hands with his considerably paler ones.

“I miss them, as well, Eddie,” he finally breathed. “One would think a decade of quietly lamenting their death would have us past this.”

“What is a decade to us?”

“True.” He took another moment to card his fingers through the scientist’s locks. “Eddie, let us clean up. Neither of us smell very pleasant, and I would very much like to spend time with you outside of business.”

Now Edmont seemed to perk up the slightest bit. Golden eyes twinkling at Laun’s suggestion as he stood. And yes. Now he could smell the putrid stench clinging to his attire. “Anyd?” he called.

No eyes came bulging out of the ceiling, but the soft voice answered. “Yes, Doctor?”

“Please make sure no one disturbs us.” Already, his fingers were working loose the tie in the paler Noble’s hair. Winding the fabric about his bed post. “Or, at the very least, inform us if someone is coming for a visit.”

“As you wish, Doctor.” Now an eye popped out. Turning upon them with that grinning stare. “Please remember to bathe well after your activities, Sirs.”

“Yes, Mother.”

Yes, this is just what they needed. A quiet moment to themselves. To forget about their problems.

It would be enough for now.

---

The bed groaned loudly as Krista rolled off the side, hand pressed to her lips. Skin beaded with a cold sweat. Stomach churning.

She had hoped that her ailment might leave by this time. Instead, it lingered like an unwanted houseguest. One that had well overstayed its welcome.

Sure, she’d been ill with stomach viruses a handful of times at the orphanage. With so many children in one complex, one would be crazy to assume otherwise.

But this?

She couldn’t quite put her finger on why, but this sickness was unlike those.

Unnatural feeling.

Hot water flooded her mouth and she ran the last few steps to the toilet.

And on the bed, legs crossed at the ankles, D listened to her quiet retching. Erembour pressed against his side. Both thinking in the same vein as her.

Sleep coming for neither that night.

While she had not explicitly said as much, they both could see the fear in her eyes as the lights went out. Fear for what? They couldn’t say. But it had been there. Clear as day.

As such, the Hunter had elected to occupy the bed for the night. Propped against the headboard. Watching. Ruminating.

And despite the fact that her head was currently hung over a toilet bowl, Krista sincerely appreciated the small act. Because the more blood that came spewing out of her mouth, the more her anxiety rose. And the knowledge that D would be there gave her some modicum of comfort.

The red-headed girl released a shuddering sigh. Flushing the toilet. Rinsing the coppery taste from her mouth. Bloody tired, honestly. But she waited there as her stomach cramps dwindled with a weak gurgle.

Not willing to believe it was over.

With no small amount of trepidation, she chanced a look at the dark mirror.

It was just her. Pale green and blue, almond-shaped eyes staring back.

Wait…

“Since when has my left eye been blue?”

“It’s me, dipshit.”

Oh.

Perhaps it wasn’t just her.

“Can you just go away?”

“Nah.”

The fingers of her left hand twitched. Slowly starting up a rhythmic tapping against the basin.

She hated that she had no control over the action.

“What in the…”

Try as she might to stop the hand through sheer force of will, they continued.

Tap tap tap tap.

Tap tap tap tap.

Tap tap tap tap.

Her right hand over the top of the left. Pressing down.

Tap tap tap tap.

Tap tap tap tap.

Tap tap tap tap.

Panic wormed its way through her.

Heart stuttering and stomach rolling.

“Fucking stop!”

A sharp laugh left her lips. Arm now rising above her head.

“Be glad this is all I can do.”

The thought almost made her sick again. Tears springing to her eyes as she stared at that bloody limb. And through gritted teeth, she hissed, “Go away!”

“Fine. But only ‘cause I’m tired.”

The blue faded from her eye. Left arm, suddenly lifeless, swinging downward until her hand slapped against the sink.

It was probably going to leave a bruise. But she couldn’t feel any pain to know for certain.

Would it be okay if she just curled up on the floor to cry?

---

D stared into the dark of the room. Listening to the rain slap against the window pane with each gust of wind.

It had been a good hour since the girl assumed the fetal position in the bed. Wrapped up to her head in the blankets as tightly as possible. Shuddering at first. Silently crying. Before stilling and softly snoring.

The Hunter didn’t blame her.

Having checked on her for most of her bathroom runs, he witnessed the entity taking control of her left arm. Watched as she fought.

There was a chance he could help.

Perhaps.

But only if he could delve into her psyche and not absolutely destroy her.

He wasn’t sure he was willing to chance breaking her already fragile mind.

But the amount of blood she’d managed to vomit was worrying. In fact, he was almost surprised that her eyes had not yet faded to grey.

Raspy snores rose from the Demon.

D turned his gaze upon Erembour, now lax and sleeping at the foot of the bed. Then to Krista as she gingerly uncovered. Still unconscious. Her typically slower heartrate sitting at a pretty eighty.

She was pale. Terribly so. Any color he’d noted earlier that day washed out.

She appeared thinner, too. Armor loose about her waist. But perhaps it could be attributed to the lighting. As each pale-white scar marring her back from the lashings in Puregon seemed to glare up at him, whereas they didn’t seem so prominent beneath the tree.

The girl had probably earned a bit more of his respect that day by putting up such a fight.

He expected her to fight just as vehemently for her own body.

Hand formed in his palm. Twisting about to eye Krista as she slept. “If she doesn’t, it might kill her.”

---

It was early morning.

Perhaps.

Laun was almost positive. It left an almost dreadful ache deep inside him. A warning.

A yearning.

He pushed himself upright in the small bed. Taking a moment to shake himself awake and admire the very naked scientist at his side.

Doctor Edmont. A genius analyst. A brilliant chemist.

A terror in most other fields.

Physics: broken.

Genetics: warped.

Perhaps it was because he was, himself, a walking, genetic mess.

Laun found himself taking another moment to drag his fingers through the man’s azure hair. Sighing contently at the silky texture.

Because whatever force designed him decreed his hair should be outside the realm of ‘normal’.

Gender? Male or female? Why not both? An ability to sew and hips to birth.

Not that anyone besides Laun knew.

His fingers trailed down along Edmont’s soft jaw.

He yearned.

Throat burning and teeth aching.

Laun was out of the bed in an instant. Digging into the one drawer reserved for him in Edmont’s desk. Deep in the back there was an amber glass bottle. And a quick shake informed him that it still contained a few capsules.

He had his own supply. However, he was not about to call Anyd and traipse about the compound as naked as a picked bird. Not when his patience was so low he couldn’t be bothered to dress. And luckily, the supplement the scientist provided him was just enough to keep him satisfied.

In the attached bathroom, he filled a cup with hot water and dropped the vermillion capsule in. Watching it dissolve and dye the water red.

Perfect.

Down it went. The beast momentarily quelled.

In the silence that followed, as he stepped into the bath, his mind awoke. Thinking back a little over ten years in the past.

Thinking of them.

Wishing he never had to be a part of all this.

Especially not in their deaths.

It had started off much the same. A call for them to collect another prospect. But neither Edmont nor Laun were expecting their family to pop up on the docket. At least, not yet.

The airship they took was a fast-traveling transporter. Not built for heavy loads. Able to travel between the furthest ends of each continent in little over half a day.

He stayed awake long into the afternoon to ensure he could warn them. Praying that no one would overhear his panicked whispers to the person on the other end.

When night descended upon them, they’d still not slept. Watching in horror as their airship approached the moderately sized home, painted with a handful of vibrant colors that lost their charm beneath their shadow.

Standard procedure dictated they approach the home in question and obtain the prospect.

Usually of childbearing age.

Sometimes not.

He hated it.

But this time, something was wrong.

In the loading bay, he waited for the all clear to disembark.

None came.

His finger depressed the nearest call button. “Am I allowed to exit the ship?”

The answer was immediate. “Negative, Lord Laun. You’d be caught in the blast.”

“Blast?!” he shouted back. “There is no scheduled attack! We’re supposed to retrieve!”

“Sorry, m’Lord. Change of plans.”

“As of when?!”

A quiet rustle. “A quarter of an hour ago. Upon arrival, the household erected a barrier.”

Laun wanted to throw his collected façade out the window. To scream and rage because damn it all, they should have left!

Instead?

“They will lower it if you allow me out to talk to them,” he implored, trying to persuade him.

Another voice came through. One that was far less compassionate sounding than the previous. “Lord Laun, it is too late. The cannons are readied, and we will not deviate from our orders. Not with this one.”

He was terrified to ask. “Which cannons?”

“One that will deliver an EMP round. One that will be… a bit more destructive.”

“You could kill the subject!”

“Oh, I highly doubt that. We’re aiming for the front door.”

“Please! Reconsider!”

No reply.

“One side, Laun.”

The Noble whirled about at the overly chipper voice. Attempting to school his expression into one of disinterest. But wholly horrified at the two people standing behind him.

The brothers. Both handsome enough. Sweet smiles. But they were despicable. Wolves in sheep’s clothing, so to speak. “Riedikke. Jarrod. What brings you here?”

The wiry brother smiled wide and passed a hand through his dark hair. “They want to send us in this time. Clean up the riffraff.”

The larger brother, aptly described as a mountain of a man, nodded along with his brother’s statement. “So, we’re gonna knock some heads in.”

What in the Hell was becoming of this mission?!

“Then I should come along to collect the prospect.”

“Nuh-uh,” Riedikke said. Wagging a finger in his face with a smug smile before pressing the same finger into the call button. “Riedikke and Jarrod here. Care to tell Launie what’s going on?”

“Can’t be bothered to tell him yourselves?”

“He’s not gonna believe us.”

An audible sigh from the woman. “Jarrod and Riedikke are to depart the ship and eliminate the parents and anyone that might get in their way just after the shield is down. Without your assistance.” The shit-eating grin on Riedikke’s face grew as the woman continued. “We are no longer aiming for finesse, as we have reason to believe that the people occupying this home have gone against their contract. You will be sent in only once the adversaries have been neutralized.”

“So, until then,” the farmeresque Noble finished, “just sit back and enjoy the show!”

Out the hatch they jumped.

A moment later, the airship abruptly lurched and rocked. Throwing him to one side. His ears ringing in the sudden, unnatural silence.

A thunderous roar was quick to follow.

He flew for the nearest window that faced the house. Afraid to look.

Afraid to not look.

Where a quaint wooden door once stood now lie a gaping, charred maw. Aglow with dying flames and lights in the house that struggled to maintain their life. The yard leading up to the entrance, once flourishing with pretty flowers and weeds, now blackened and dead.

In the midst of the wreckage stood one broad figure. Staring up at the airship, then out at the two brothers quickly advancing. And he willed the person to run. To flee.

Anything.

Wondering what the Hell they were thinking.

‘… just sit back and enjoy the show!’

~~~

He did not enjoy it. Not one little bit.

It seemed to take entirely too long for the brothers to ‘neutralize’ the ‘adversaries’. And while the people in the control room could hear and see everything through the live feed, they said nothing about what was happening.

Not until that woman was addressing him over the intercom. “They’ve not yet located the prospect. However, you may now disembark and search the house for anything that might prove useful. And ensure everything is in order for the Council.”

As Laun waited for the hatch and prepared to jump, the voice provided him with one more bit of insight. “Last thing. Riedikke has been instructed to wipe the slate clean with this one once found. Ensure this happens.”

He wanted to scream.

Instead, he leapt from the airship. Landing with a soft thud on the charred ground. Still warm against the soles of his shoes. Up the blackened path. Into the entryway that crackled and groaned around him.

He turned and made towards the furthest rooms in the house.

First, a guest bedroom. Painted a warm brown. Bed dressed in crisp sheets and a fluffy down comforter. Painfully normal compared to what the outside once was. But still, he half-heartedly rifled through the end table.

As expected, there was nothing.

Next, he went to the only other door on that hall. Stepping into a study birthed from his darkest nightmares.

He wanted to cry.

To vomit in disgust.

To kill those brothers.

He dug through the papers littering the room and drawers.

Nothing.

A loud crash.

Laughter.

High pitched screeches of terror.

His stomach churned. And that’s when he heard the largest brother shout, “Brother! I caught the little bitch!”

~~~

Laun got there in time to stop something truly heinous. To command Riedikke to do his job. That he’d be back in half an hour. Because, as a Leader, he knew Riedikke would not attempt to rape the child for that length of time.

But he had to make an effort to search the home.

Back past the entryway.

Eyeing the head and body of the olive-skinned man. The pale hair stained with blood.

He silently despaired but pressed on. Dipping into the next available room there. Mindlessly searching.

Turning up nothing.

But what did he expect to find in the family room?

He moved on until he stood in the bedrooms. Undisturbed. Mostly. Littered with some dust and bits of plaster knocked loose in the blast, but otherwise, they appeared frozen in time.

He couldn’t bring himself to admire the rooms too closely. Merely shuffled through the bits of paper he found. The end tables and dressers. Gently pushed aside small toys. And cursed everyone he could think to curse.

The bathroom was much the same.

He doubled back to the family room and crossed through the dining room into the kitchen.

Seems dinner had been interrupted.

Nothing more of note.

He stepped outside into a wonderfully vibrant garden filled with herbs and seasonal vegetables. Somberly scanning the overgrowth with a sad sense of nostalgia.

But there was nothing.

No other buildings.

Nothing that could ‘prove useful’.

Not for the Council.

Not for him and Edmont.

~~~

Laun was finishing his walk about the house (now checking switches and knobs and bobbles) when Edmont approached him. Expression cold and calculating, but his golden eyes were weary. Haunted. And his typically coffee-colored skin was horribly pale.

They gave each other a once over. Looking for the feeds they could see attached to the brothers. Taking in their appearance.

“How are you holding up?” Edmont eventually breathed.

There wasn’t an adequate descriptor for how he felt. With a shake of his head, he hooked his thumbs in his waistcoat and changed the subject. Knowing they could talk without fear of eavesdroppers later. “Are they on the carrier?”

“Yes.”

They started for the destroyed entryway.

“Cleaned?”

“Mmm… Define ‘clean’.”

Laun’s eyes went wide. Brows drawn. Lips a thin line.

“I cleaned their tiny little body of all gore. I just didn’t expect to find them covered in seminal fluid after fetching them a clean set of clothes.”

Edmont watched the ashen-skinned Noble’s face contort with rage. Blood light spilling from his sapphire orbs as he scanned the yard for Riedikke. “You’d best be mistaken,” he growled. Because while he let the bastard off with a warning after finding him pressed against the child a second time, he would not again.

And it had been over half an hour since that very descriptive warning, so it was entirely plausible he’d been idiotic enough to try something.

As if summoned, the brothers rounded the far corner of the home. Still out of sight. Guffawing and chortling as Riedikke recounted the experience.

Marking the child.

Claiming them as his own.

“It’s too bad I didn’t have more time with my little kitten. I was really hoping to see just how tight she was!”

“Think you could have shared?”

“Ah, I bet we both could have taken her at once!”

Laun was done. Long past the point of reason.

Once the brothers came into sight, Laun was upon them. Clawing and tearing with an animalistic ferocity. And Edmont watched. Shoulders shaking with mirth as excitement bubbled through his veins.

He took great satisfaction in listening to the brothers scream. Watching their blood paint the surrounding earth.

When one tried to escape, the Noble was there. Dragging them back.

The only thing that was missing was his propensity to rhyme when terribly upset.

It was a long time before Laun had his fill. Thin lips and fingers stained with blood he had no desire to ingest. Too afraid they would somehow spread their taint to him, and he really did not want to start lusting after everything that moved.

Or didn’t move.

A distinctly unpleasant shiver ran down his spine as he left the two moaning mauled men lying on the grass and wandered back to the scientist now waiting by the transporter. Looking entirely too pleased. But he sighed. “Please tell me,” he started wearily, “that he did not touch the child.”

“As far as I can tell. It was only on the belly of the dress.”

“Oh, good!” he gasped.

“Yes.”

Silence stretched between them. Thick and heavy.

“Laun?” A hum in response. “I’ve been instructed to stay behind for a few days. Just while the child is being delivered to an orphanage on the Northern Continent. From what I hear, they will have a thrall present her to the director. Make a deal with the man and keep an eye on her until she comes of age.”

“Grooming her?”

“To despise Humans? Most likely.” He glanced around. Looking for anyone who might overhear before whispering, “I’ve heard Riedikke will be stationed there. Along with the first of Project Alpha.”

“That spells disaster.”

And it most certainly had.

Within five years, the First was sitting pretty in the desert town. Leading those stationed with him with ease. They snatched up lone traveling merchants. Beggars. Slaves.

People no one would miss.

But the longer he lorded, the more his derangement revealed itself. Hidden artfully beneath a regal façade until most everyone followed his every word.

A few months before the child’s eighteenth birthday, they started culling the town.

Taking anyone they deemed appropriate despite the fact that it was not time.

When they disappeared, all Hell broke loose. From there, the Hunter was on the case.

Something Lord Laun was very thankful for.

A small click interrupted the Noble’s thoughts. “M’Lord and Doctor Edmont, you have a visitor. I’ve attempted to dissuade her, but the most I can do now is give you a few minutes.”

Laun leapt out of the bath. Skidding across the tiled floor with a panicked yelp. “Edmont!”

There was a noise to his side. Much like a person wading through chest-high water. And he turned in time to watch a very nude Edmont, eyes wide with terror, dive for the still-full bath. But he didn’t have a moment more to spare. Slinging on his attire with a frenzied sort of look.

By the time he stood in the lab, awaiting their visitor, he was very composed.

Externally.

“Anyd, who is visiting?”

Down the hall, he could hear the transporter squeal to a stop.

“Aston, my Lord.”

Lord Laun was not one to throw expletives around willy-nilly. But as his face contorted, twisted by distaste and annoyance, he was not afraid to say a few. And when Edmont finally sped down the stairs and attempted to look deep in thought over some charred notes, it was a look he recognized well.

“No.”

“Yes.”

Edmont soon matched his lover’s expression. Both of them wondering if they could escape before it was too late.

“Lord Laun! Doctor!” a cheery voice called out.

They cringed harder.

It should be a crime to sound so deceptively sweet.

---

November 12, 13,012

Morning light filtered into the tavern room. Bronze colored walls appearing ablaze.

The covers undulated. A tuft of messy crimson hair sinking further into the mound. Further away from the cool hand attempting to press against her forehead.

A slim hand appeared briefly to wave dismissingly at the Hunter by her side.

“Go ‘way.”

Her answer was a soft hum.

The covers began lifting from the bed.

“No!” Krista screeched. Clinging to the duvet as if her life depended upon it. But with a final tug, she was flopping loose with a small whine. Chilled and wondering why she couldn’t just sleep. So with a childish puff of her flushed cheeks, she crossed her arms and glowered up at the man. Enjoying the cool touch even if she was upset by being disturbed.

“So… what’s your verdict?”

He softly clucked his tongue. “You could use some fresh air.”

“But that’s all we get,” she grumbled. But with her nausea near gone, the only thing keeping her so obstinate was her exhaustion. As Erembour gingerly crawled atop her, she laughed. “See? Demon agrees we needs sleeps, not airs.”

One stern look from D had the Demon changing his mind. Shrinking with a pop and climbing up to the stoic man’s shoulder. Briefly changing into a black parrot. Just long enough to squawk and strut about. Plume raised. Looking rather happy and at home on his perch.

A pirate captain and his parrot.

“Argh!” Krista suddenly cried. Springing to her feet with a sudden flourish. “As you command, Cap’n!”

They watched as the red-headed girl scurried about the room. Slipping on her borrowed shirt. Securing the belt overtop. Slinging on her cloak. And screeching to a halt once she came to her boots. Eventually opting to go barefoot.

“Not worried about the rain? Or your feet getting cold?” asked Hand.

She hummed and shrugged. “Not really, I guess. Besides!” She grabbed hold of D’s arm and attempted to tug him to the door. Failing terribly, but not giving up. “A little water never hurt anyone!”

---

“Captain!”

A wet smack filled the air.

“Cap’n!”

A dull thud. And a low moan left her trembling lips. “Oh! Right in the kidney, Cap’n!”

A laugh erupted from Hand. D’s combative stance momentarily shaken. “You’re being awfully dramatic today, kid. That was your solar plexus.”

“I like dramatic!” she said. She settled into a stance much like D’s, with her fists at eye level and elbows tucked in. Though she doubted he had much of a need for it, his reflexes quick and awe-inspiring. However, having something to copy helped.

Distantly, a single child frolicked. The day far too wet and dreary for most others. On such a day as this, they had no want for solitary. The park at their disposal, so to speak.

A sharp smack sent her reeling.

“You’re distracted,” D remarked. “Perhaps another activity.”

“Aww! But I wanna learn! I promise I’ll pay attention, Captain!”

The Hunter eyed the smaller person pouting up at him.

Yes, she had been the one to insist they spar. That he teach her defensive and offensive hand-to-hand combat. A few hours had passed since they began, but she’d been rather absentminded for the past hour.

Considering her bout of sickness, he did not think it wise to keep indulging her. God forbid he smack her stomach a bit too hard and make her vomit everywhere.

“Another day,” he promised.

“Well, I still wanna do something.”

He cast a sidelong glance at the tiered chin-up bars. With a small incline of the head, he led her to the equipment. Silently suggesting simple climbing and balancing. But… hmm… Perhaps that would prove too strenuous as well.

Although, she didn’t seem inclined to just cool down if she was outside. Strange how she wanted to sleep and do nothing, but now she couldn’t be bothered to sit still.

“… she is confounding,” murmured Erembour.

To this, D could agree.

It was too late.

With a squeal, Krista leapt past them. Clinging to the middle bar. The chipped and mottled green paint flecking off in her hands as she swung to and fro. Wet, mildly muddy toes wiggling with her glee.

A slight vibration caught her attention. So very minute she almost assumed she’d caused it. But she looked up. Watching in wonder as the Hunter stood tall upon the highest tier. Perfectly at ease upon the slim bar.

He jerked his chin up, and while she could not outright say the look he gave her was expectant, for a man so inexpressive, it came close. “You want me to come up?”

“If you can.”

“… alright. If you stink so.”

He watched as she slung her slim leg up. Flailing a bit in her attempt to pull her self into a seated position. Slowly wriggling until she was crouched on the balls of her feet, unsteady and panting.

“Alright,” she gasped, fingers tightening their grip. “I made it, Captain!”

“Try to stand.”

She released a rather ugly noise. Staring up at him with a look that clearly accused him of being mental. But she tried. Wobbling. Arms pinwheeling comically. Rear in the air as she squeaked and struggled.

Hand resisted the urge to goose her.

 “Gods! If I had half your sense of balance!”

She was finally up. Smiling uncertainly. And with a small bit of alarm, D noted that one eye was most definitely not green.

“What’s with that look, D?”

Was he giving her a look?

“Your eyes are just a bit… narrowed. Like you’re upset.”

A short pause as D revealed nothing.

But then, he didn’t have to say anything as her left arm quivered.

She felt like vomiting again. Panic rising and crawling up her throat.

“No! No, no, no! You stop that right fucking now!”

The trembling ceased.

But she waited. Staring at the limb like it was a wild animal.

“D?”

“Come down,” he softly commanded.

“Yeah. Sure. Sounds good.”

She stretched down. Reaching for something to brace herself against.

There was never time.

Her left leg kicked out, slinging her off the bar with a startled yelp. And any attempt to catch herself ended in a cramp to end all cramps. Instead, D was there to break her fall. Gently settling her upon her feet but not releasing his hold on her.

Probably for the best.

The entirety of her being seemed to vibrate in his hold. Perhaps induced by nerves.

Perhaps because she was slowly losing control over her own body. Eyes closed tight as she concentrated. Quietly pleading for everything to stop.

A handful of minutes that seemed to take hours passed. And gradually, everything came to a standstill.

No shaking.

No pleading.

Only a soft sigh of relief.

But D could smell it.

It wasn’t something he would have immediately noticed had she not been bleeding. But as it was, she turned her head to one side and spit out a mouthful of it.

Her blood smelled sour.

That is not to say that it smelled foul.

No, the stoic man found his hunger rising to the surface almost as quickly as any other time he found himself dealing with her blood. But there was a distinct difference between what he’d smelled the previous day when she’d busted her face against the ground and now.

Krista smelled of sweets. A favorite candy or ripe melon you could eat yourself sick on.

This was more like sour candy. Or a tart fruit. Something tangy enough to be just as addicting.

While the Hunter would never admit such a thing aloud, both made his mouth water.

But the sour was not Krista.

“Who are you?”

For a moment, she continued to hack and spit up blood. Eyes he knew to be blue pinched with pain. But eventually, a sultry smirk curved her lips. “Ask me that two days ago and I wouldn’t’ve known. But it’s Rhea. And it’s so good to be out.”

Now she turned her electric eyes upon him. Studying him as if seeing him for the first time. And in her half-lidded gaze was a primal look that could make any normal, sane man weak in the knees as she cupped the back of his head. Fingers weaving through his dark hair.

She was surprised he did not immediately pull back. “Think you could get used to me, D? I think I’d be a better companion in the long run. In every sense of the word.”

The Hunter thumbed her lip in lieu of an answer. Dragging it down gently. Slowly.

Any attempt at being alluring flew out the window as D suddenly pulled down her bottom eyelid. Clucking his tongue in distaste.

“You are killing her.”

“Um. No. I am killing us.” She snorted. Drawing away from his touch. “If she’d just let go, it wouldn’t be so bad.”

The right side of her body began twitching. Shaking her balance. And her heart flubbed. Beating faster than normal, but weak. Irregular.

“You are too weak to continue suppressing her.”

Despite all this, as if to prove a point, black began staining typically blood-red hair. Blue eyes shining with her excitement as her once attractive smile became all teeth and she pointed a slim finger at the man. “For now. But I’ll tell ya what! Y’all better pray that this ditz can dig herself out of the Hellhole I’ll stomp her ass into when I get more strength! Because at this point, it’s just a matter of ‘when’!”

She laughed. A sharp bark of noise that ended in a stomach-churning retch. Blood pouring past her parted lips.

And as all life fled her limbs, D caught her. Watching as cornflower blue eyes faded to a pale grey and stared blankly upon the world.

Chapter Text

Things never seemed to go exactly as expected.

For instance, D never expected a simple job to land him in this position.

Staring down at a lifeless girl he’d been hired to hunt as he stretched her out on the ground and hovered above her. Hands clasped over her sternum as he prepared to start chest compressions.

Because her heart was still.

Silent.

And what a way to go.

Erembour paced around them as the Hunter began.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Seven.

Eight.

Nine.

Ten.

Eleven.

Twelve.

Thirteen.

Fourteen.

Fifteen.

Sixteen.

Seventeen.

Eighteen.

Nineteen.

Twenty.

Twenty-one.

A weak little flutter.

Nothing more that he could hear or feel.

Twenty-two.

Twenty-three.

Twenty-four.

Twenty-five.

Just a few more compressions before he needed to give her rescue breaths.

Yes. This was never part of the plan. But he’d be damned before he let her die like this.

Thirty.

He gently pinched her nose and slotted his lips against hers. Breathing once.

And then he felt it.

Krista’s lips moving gently against his as she quietly said in a nasally voice, “Thanks for the air. But why’ve you been shoving on my chest?”

The Hunter wrenched himself back. And for her part, Krista did not move. Eyes still pitifully grey as she coughed. Tears building and dripping down her cheeks.

Slowly, she rubbed her chest. “D?”

“Hush.”

Her mouth clamped shut, and she watched as he closed his eyes. Intent. Listening.

In the silence, he could finally hear it.

A heartbeat so faint that he was impressed she was even conscious. And logically, she probably shouldn’t have been.

D released a soft sigh and sat back on his haunches. Allowing a very anxious Demon to crawl up to his shoulder. “Chest compressions. Your heart stopped.” She nodded. “How are you feeling?”

“Kinda like death. Really tired. Scared and don’t wanna think about what just happened.” He nodded in understanding, pressing his left hand to her temple as she glanced down. Moaning loudly and pulling at the borrowed clothes. “And I ruined your pretty shirt!”

“I think that is the least of my worries,” he murmured. Taking in the damage.

Honestly, if they hurried, he could clean the stain right out with a bit of peroxide. But first, it was unwise for her to be seen with her lips and chin smeared with blood, so he pulled out his handkerchief and dipped it into a nearby puddle. Dabbing at her face.

“That can’t be sanitary.”

“No worse than the trough.”

She snorted and gently smiled. “At least it isn’t spit.”

The smallest spark of amusement lit the Hunter’s eyes. “Would you prefer–”

“No!” Now she was laughing. Still seeming out of sorts as she batted at his hand, but better. If only marginally. “Give me more dirt water. I’m good with that.”

An easy silence enveloped them as he continued to clean up the blood.

“Hey, D?”

A soft hum.

“Can I eat again? I’m really fudgin’ hungry.”

“… I second the motion,” said Erembour.

Well, if she was ready to eat, he wouldn’t deny them. He stood, pulling her up with him. “Let’s clean up first.”

---

The stain came out wonderfully. And while the shirt was wet and a tad see-through from rinsing it, Krista was content with wearing it. Noting that, since it was just the front, she could do as she did to enter the tavern.

Cover it up with her cloak.

As such, she was currently bundled up in her cloak. Munching on her third steak with a bit of help from Erembour. And D gently swirled the liquid in his near-full mug, eyeing the red substance thoughtfully. Painfully aware of the stares directed at their table.

The stares were not a result of his choice of drink, as no one had seen him slip in the capsule. And while he did not appreciate them, he was not about to tell Krista to quit her eating.

He closed his eyes and took a small sip.

“D, you feel okay?” she gingerly asked around a mouthful of food. “You keep closing your eyes. Are you tired? Did I keep you up last night?”

Hand openly snickered.

“What?”

Silence.

The man shifted to face her a bit more. Away from curious stares as he swallowed another drink.

Slowly, under her curious and confused gaze, one eye flickered open. And a strikingly ruby-colored iris gazed back.

Her confusion nearly became a tangible object hanging overhead.

Yes. She wouldn’t lie. One of her first thoughts was of ‘The Clown’. An aspect of the D she adored and trusted.

She didn’t like it, but it did not scare her because that was not all D was. And that was something she could distinguish.

Next, she thought of the flash of red she’d seen when waking the Hunter in the cave. It’d been so brief. A reaction. Something she did not hold against him.

Last, she thought of the large man from her memory. Eyes that shined in the dark. Spilling their blood light as he searched for her.

But he was not D.

Aside from all of that?

“They’re pretty.”

“And what you see as ‘pretty’, most people can’t or won’t tolerate,” said Hand.

“Why?”

“Because most people don’t want a bloodthirsty monster in their midst.”

Her brows drew together, confusion intensifying. “You’re not a monster. You’re not gonna eat them”

“Good luck telling them that.”

She fell silent. Feeding a very pushy Demon. Observing D for a moment before she stretched across the table to eye his cup. Eventually sniffing. And in a too-loud voice she started, “Where did you get blo–!”

A squeak of surprise fled her as D clamped his hand over her mouth. Quietly hushing her. And slowly, she wriggled closer in the rounded booth. Hands raised in surrender.

He relinquished his hold.

“Duhlub,” she finished in a barely-there whisper. “Where’d you get it?”

Intrigued, she watched as he pulled out a small container and dropped a vermillion capsule into her quickly proffered palm. “So, a dried-out supplement? That you can reconstitute in water?”

At his nod, she leaned in and sniffed at his cup. Nose wrinkling in distaste. “Smells weird. Can I taste?” When he pushed it into her hand, she took the tiniest sip. Just enough to have the taste coat her tongue.

She was handing it back before she declared (quietly), “Tastes like shit compared to yours.”

The comment did not surprise him.

What did?

“Why don’t people just donate blood?”

The mug stopped halfway to his lips. “It’s not that simple.”

“Why not? Don’t any Nobles ask? Or do they all just take it by force?”

A chair scraped across the floor with a harsh squeal, and a rough voice quietly interjected, “Little Miss, where are you from? You’re awfully curious about the Nobility.”

A heavy silence fell over the small group while life in the rest of the tavern continued on.

Krista was, to an extent, oblivious. Noting the Hunter’s suddenly rigid posture as he quickly downed the remainder of his meal, but not immediately recognizing why. She turned towards the man with sun-kissed skin and flashed him a bashful smile. “I’m sorry. Are my questions bothering you?”

“Not really, but it’s odd for someone to be so curious. Most of the time, people know the basics and that’s enough.”

“Well, I didn’t learn of the existence of Vampires and such until Puregon was… attacked?” She eyed D. Looking for confirmation. Or help.

“Victimized. Terrorized.”

“Yeah! What he said!”

“Puregon?”

“Mmhmm!”

The man ran a hand through his auburn hair. Gently rubbed at his bearded chin. And eventually grumbled, “I’ve been up there. They didn’t seem so ignorant.”

“I’ve no doubt!” she chirped. “But it was knowledge they deemed unimportant where I was concerned.”

“That’s… strange,” he admitted. Hazel eyes wide.

“No kidding. But D’s getting me all caught up.”

“D?” Excitedly, the man swung his chair around to their table and squinted into the shadows. “The D?!”

At the quiet affirmation, the man clapped his large hands together with a hearty guffaw. “Boy, it’s been thirty or so years since I last saw you! And you haven’t aged a bit!” He lightly bumped Krista’s shoulder. “Helped my family out when I was in my teens. But Hell. That was down South.”

“Fieri of Tupir,” D said.

“Yeah! That’s me!” His voice lowered slightly as he leaned in. “Y’know, after you helped us, Ma an’ Pa had a few good harvests. More than a few. And I saved up the coin to buy myself a rig. Now, I travel with a caravan and sell SEC goods. People up here go batshit for it.”

“SEC?” Krista tipped her head. “What are SEC goods?”

“It just stands for Southern and Eastern Continents.” Fieri pulled over a napkin as he fished out a pencil from his pocket. Roughly sketching the landmasses before placing three dots. Two on one. One on the other. “See, I used to live around here. Now, I go back home about every six months. Resupply at the farms. And then, I meet up with a supplier from the Frontier. Crazy bastard found an old terminal and hacked its systems. Got one of their aircrafts up and running.”

For a moment, Fieri looked about. Seeing if anyone might be listening before he whispered, “If you ask me, I think he’s got connections to the Nobility. I’m just not sure how. Maybe he’s a Dhampir. Or maybe he’s got him a lover.”

“Does it really matter?”

He snorted. “No, not really. He’s good people. I just like to speculate.” With a low grunt, he stretched out of his chair. Pointed briefly at the red-head. “Sorry, but what was your name, little miss?”

“Krista.”

“Krista. Very good. Y’all should come see me before we leave. We’ll be here until the fifteenth. But if you can’t find me out on the street, I’m in room 107.”

Just as he was spinning his chair about to his original table, Krista called, “Fieri, did you stay there last night?”

“Yeah. In fact, my wife is there now.”

He watched in fascination as the crimson-headed girl gasped and squeaked. One hand flapping as she leaned in. Pale green eyes wide.

“We’re in 109! It’s you we heard last night!”

Mortified, cheeks flushed, Fieri looked for an escape.

“Are y’all okay? It sounded like y’all were in pain!”

The large man doubted he’d ever been so flustered by an acquaintance. Looking to the Hunter for help. Had he not been so rattled, he might’ve sworn on his life that the stoic man looked rather amused with the situation at hand as he turned his head from Fieri.

In his memories, he could hear a voice much like Krista’s. Yelling. Confused. And he could see the concern written all over her heart-shaped face. Something so genuine he was almost taken aback.

It just didn’t change how embarrassed he felt.

But if she was unaware of what really happened, he could get away with lying.

“Oh! Yeah!” He flapped a hand. “We’re better now. We just… ate… something bad?” Now, he cringed. Because it sounded so unbelievable. But when Krista nodded in understanding and stated she was glad they felt better, Fieri decided it was best left alone.

Together, the group watched the merchant flee. Running for the streets as if his life depended upon it.

“Why’d he look so uncomfortable?” Krista eventually asked. Picking at the remaining chunks of meat on the plate but no longer eating.

And while Erembour released a low, grumbling chuckle, Hand had the decency to say, “Don’t worry about it.”

Even if he was quietly laughing while saying it.

Silence fell over them. Filled with the chatter of the tavern. But comfortable.

Slowly, Krista turned her gaze fully upon the Hunter. Observing him as he crossed his legs and settled into the booth to wait. Gently prodding at Erembour. “Hey, y’all want the rest of this?”

A no from D, but the Demon crawled atop the table with all the grace of a puppy to devour the last of it.

D must’ve caught her brief look of discontent. “What’s bothering you?”

She sighed. “The meat is really good. And I… Well…”

He waited as she gathered her thoughts. Having an idea of what was on her mind. While he did not necessarily want to pressure her, he thought that saying it for her might help. “Not satisfied?”

“Yeah.” She pushed at his cup. “Do you feel satisfied?”

“Depends.”

“Makes sense.”

Her head thumped against the table.

And out came the groaning.

Blessedly quiet groaning.

Then, she was gone. Slumping up to the counter to pay without a word while D pilfered a bit of her water to rinse his mug.

He could admit. It was odd that she’d eaten so much but was not satisfied. So much consumed. More in that day alone than all their time traveling together thus far. But perhaps they’d simply found something that agreed with her stomach.

If that was the case, they would definitely need to go on an animal killing spree. Otherwise, she’d eat through her funds.

“Y’know, D,” Hand suddenly piped up. “I’ve wondered something.”

“Hm?”

“Being an orphan and a pariah, how did she come by her money?”

The table shuddered roughly as Krista abruptly and bodily slammed into its wooden frame, startling the countenanced carbuncle and the demon currently licking the plate as she leaned over to stare at Hand. Smile too wide as she gleefully answered, “I cut firewood!”

“Cutting wood doesn’t pay that well.”

She pressed a finger to his tiny lips as she settled on her belly beside Erembour. “Shh. I’mma explain! See, before everything went to crap, I would sometimes walk a few miles north to where the trees started growing. And a little ways in lived a lumberjack.

“The lumberjack didn’t talk much, so I don’t think he ever listened to what people gossiped about. He let me work for him. Just a bit. So, I had some coin saved up. But once I left Puregon, that little bit quickly disappeared. And when I tried to find some work… Well…”

She cringed, and they could both see it. The brief flash of memories that showed her fleeing for her life in multiple towns. And yes, they could both admit that they missed things as they’d really only been looking for more emotionally charged memories. Glimpses into her character and who she might be.

“You know that town you took me to so you could get paid?”

“Hard to forget.”

A ruddy flush crept over her cheeks. “After a few failed attempts to find work and find you (or anyone), I got desperate. I had just gotten into town that evening. Got turned down everywhere I went. And eventually decided I would try to pinch the coin purse off someone who looked well-off.”

Dear God.

When he was told she was a terror and menace to society, he didn’t imagine this was what they meant.

A menace to the wealthy.

“… you? A thief?” Erembour sounded highly incredulous, and none of them could blame him.

“Yeah. Once it was evening, I wandered about the little open market on the far side of town. Most of the produce merchants were packing up, but the ones that were selling trinkets and jewelry were still dealing. And I saw someone that looked like a likely prospect.

“He was dressed well. Built like someone who lives well. And he had the fattest bloody purse on his hip. Biggest I’d seen yet.” The girl’s eyes shined as she recalled the night. “He was carrying around so much, I assumed it was just some to flounce. So, I crept up behind him when he was leaving and cut it loose.”

There was a moment of quiet as Krista slid off the table and back into the seat at the Hunter’s side. Sighing softly. And they all knew what was coming.

“I tripped.”

Mostly.

“I had to walk past him to get back to the gates that we came through. And I fell right into him. Knocked us both to the ground. And he, of course, noticed the purple bag with what I assume is his name sewn in gold letters on the side.”

D huffed out a soft breath. And Hand said what he was thinking. “So, you pickpocketed the head honcho of the town and he put out a hit on you.”

“Seems that way,” she laughed. “I can’t really do anything right. But I guess it gave me y’all, so that’s one in my favor.”

As the girl continued to regale her three companions with her harrowing tale of escape from a very irate man, D’s mind briefly wandered as he wondered what else they might have missed. If she had any more surprises hidden up her sleeves.

Thinking that this walking mystery continued to steep in her own flavor of enigmatic juices. Presenting him with a puzzle with smeared and missing pieces that he was expected to salvage.

---

Long into the afternoon, the sky was dark once again. Clouds heavy with rain. Air cool against their skin.

The Hunter was seated on one of the few benches littering the park. Fingers gently massaging the scruff of the Demon’s neck as he huddled beneath his coat.

Not far away, Krista giggled like a child. Trying her hardest to scramble up the slope of a metal slide. But with all the rain, her bare toes could not find purchase on the slick surface. And even still, she tried. Skittering along until she slipped and flopped against the metal surface with a painful smack.

With a grumble, she turned her sights to the jungle gym. Pausing long enough to straighten out the cloak and now see-through shirt clinging to her slim body. But seemed very unbothered with the wetness otherwise.

Honestly, D was enjoying the reprieve.

It was another rare moment where he found himself appreciating the quiet. When there was no worry of Nobility. No concern for much of anything.

Just a moment to be.

And listen to Krista screech like a banshee.

Together, they looked up. Staring at a very disgruntled Krista currently dangling upside-down. Held captive by one slender leg that was twisted between a couple of bars. Unable to get the leverage needed to pull herself free.

“You should help her,” remarked Hand.

“I should.” However, the Hunter did not move from his spot. Content to watch her flail for a bit longer.

A few minutes more passed. Filled with the soft pitter-patter of rain and her whimpering as she attempted to wiggle free. Hooking her free leg on the bars to hopefully lift herself up.

She made no progress. Unless one considered, amidst all her flailing, her ankle painfully popping ‘progress’.

There was a long silence as Krista fell limp. Body swaying to and fro. Chest heaving.

“Love me!” she eventually wailed, arms extended towards him. “I’m stuck and I need to pee!”

“Love you?”

“Yes! I really need to pee!” And she watched, with no small amount of relief, as D pushed up from the bench with the Demon in tow. Smiling despite the angry throbbing in her ankle. She looped her arm about his neck as he armed her up. “These random bouts of needing to pee are really inconvenient.”

Working her leg loose, he asked, “Have your habits always been so inconsistent?”

“No. I think I went every day at the orphanage. It just kinda… got to this point.”

He hummed. Gently maneuvering her ankle. “When did you notice?”

“Can’t say I noticed immediately.” She grunted at a particularly painful shift but continued on. “Just woke up one day and realized I hadn’t been hungry or needed to pee for a few days.”

Odd.

“But I don’t mind not going. I just wish the need wasn’t so sudden. Like my bladder is fine, but suddenly yells, ‘If you don’t pee now, you’re in trouble’.”

Perhaps there was no use in trying to determine what exactly she was. At least, not right now. Perhaps down the road, when more of her lineage came to the surface. Whether that was only a few days, or several months.

Her ankle suddenly slipped free of the kiddie death-trap, bruised and red but quickly recovering. He shifted to set her down.

She clung to him.

“Hold on.” Krista started giggling and snuggling deeper into his hold. Rubbing her cheek against his chest as she listened to his heart. “You’re really warm. And if nature wasn’t calling, I might be hard-pressed to leave this spot!”

Strange that he actually let her be for a moment longer.

But eventually, she did drop from his grasp. Shuddering. Gently shaking her leg. Missing the Hunter’s warmth. “I’ll just use the tavern’s public restroom, okay?” At his nod, she turned and departed with the assurance that she wouldn’t take long.

She clutched her cloak about her. Tearing off down the path. Spying the caravan down the street and determining it was a must-visit as she shoved open the scarred door to the tavern. The glass pane rattling loudly with the sudden movement.

A whispered apology to the door and she was off again. Trudging through the wall of smoke until she was turning to a doorway at the end of the bar. Clearly marked with signs indicating she was heading in the correct direction.

But she paused. Casting a look towards the stairs and the hall at its side. Watching pairs of people disappear into what she assumed were more rooms.

Wondering if people pet cats here, too.

Another shudder shook her as her bladder reasserted its need.

She went through it. Turned past the owner’s quarters. Bypassed the door to the kitchen and what appeared to be a breakroom with a singular occupant. And nearly squealed in delight once the bathrooms came into sight. Her journey at an end.

For a moment, her skin crawled. That prickly sensation one gets when being intently observed far too long.

She felt stalked.

But… surely it was just her imagination. And intense need to pee.

She needed to assure herself, however. Looking left. Then right. Left again.

To her right, a window that looked out upon a too-close tree.

To her left, the barren hallway.

Pressing her ear to the door, she knocked.

“There she is!”

The sudden declaration startled her, and she turned to stare owlishly at the man now occupying the space to her left. “I’m sorry. Can I help you?”

The man, tall and kindly looking with eyes the color of a clear, springtime sky and slicked hair the color of wheat, smiled broadly. Rocking back on his heels. “I believe you most certainly can!”

The crawling feeling traveled along her spine in the most unpleasant way.

“Yeah?” She felt herself tensing. Prepared to run, although she wasn’t entirely certain why she felt threatened. But something was definitely wrong. “Well, I need to pee, so maybe it can wait until after?”

Now, his smile widened. Perfectly straight teeth bared. “Afraid not, girl. See, I’m on a bit of a time crunch, and I need you sooner rather than later.”

Her feet were on the move before she knew it. Pushing her back into a body much larger than hers. Perhaps not taller than D, but broader. And equally large hands fell upon her shoulders with a tight squeeze.

Them’s clubbin’ hands.

It was at that moment that Krista realized she needed to escape. Elbow jerking back into the man’s groin. But where he faltered with a low groan, more were there. Coiling their arms about her midsection. Clamping a hand down over her mouth. Pulling back on her hair until she was forced to stare at the ceiling.

She needed her blades.

With a shock of terror, as fingers met only belt, she realized she’d never grabbed them on her way out of the room that morning.

Her mouth opened, but oh, they were clever. Maneuvering their large hand to keep her from biting. So, she licked.

It tasted like Death on her tongue.

“What the fuck is with the sandpaper tongue?!”

It was a small distraction. All she needed as she flailed and kicked until she found purchase. Driving the person at her back into the nearest wall. Nearly managing to wrench herself free.

The ‘kindly’ man, who’d been ushering them towards the bathroom and digging through a bag until this point, rushed to restrain her. Fingers digging into her sides.

Arms.

Neck.

Air cut off.

She gasped for breath. Clawing at the hand clasped there. Heart pounding as she looked for any way out of the situation.

But she could only see the strangers and the tiled walls of the bathroom. Plainer than what she’d been expecting. But she wasn’t sure why she was expecting a dark dungeon.

Another set of hands suddenly grasped her chin, wrenching open her jaw just a bit wider until an object, tapered at one end and hollow, could fit between her teeth. Over her thrashing tongue as she attempted to force it back. And finally, just the slightest bit down her throat.

With finality, the object was strapped into place.

She was pressed face-first into the floor. But now she could breathe. Sucking in large gulps of air. Still struggling as rough rope wound down around her arms.

“Don’t worry, dear. If you’ll relax, this won’t be so bad.”

If anything, she felt the opposite was true. That her predicament would only get worse.

She screamed.

No sound aside from the rush of air leaving her lungs.

Panic descended, and desperate, she tried again as they rolled her back over. A total of five men hovering above her. Smiling in a way that reminded her of Riedikke.

“Finally find out what that piece in your mouth does?” the ‘kindly’ man asked. Huffing and puffing as he sat atop her thighs. Fingers gently unfastening her belt. “Yes, as much as I would love to hear your pretty voice, I think a bit more discretion is required in such a public setting.”

Gods damn them.

The tanned man at her head pulled out a switchblade. Pulling up D’s shirt and cutting through it.

It concerned her that she was more upset about that for a moment.

He ran his hand along her throat and over top her armor. “She’s pretty in the face, Clark, but flat as a board.” And ‘kindly’ man nodded in agreement.

“Like a doll. Or a child.”

The men turned to the one who’d spoken. All regarding him with a perturbed look.

Who she now knew to be Clark wrinkled his nose. “Let’s not compare her to a child.” He froze. “You are an adult, aren’t you?”

She didn’t answer, but her brief moment of indignation must’ve given him the answer he searched for.

“So Liam wasn’t mistaken,” he responded. Fingers searching for the straps joining her armor. “Had to be searching if you were dressed like this. But too stuck-up to consider a normal man, or even just outright tell him no. Had to play stupid.”

Tears blurred her vision. Panic melding with her confusion. Feeling horridly vulnerable and weak, because no amount of her struggling was helping.

“Once we’re finished with you, no man or thing will ever want you. And while I’d love to take things slow with you…” He paused and checked his watch. Frowning. “I’m running out of time. But the rest of the boys will take you elsewhere and take their time.”

The clasps on her armor were finally undone. Bottoms shifting down despite her attempt to clench her legs.

“Always keep your no-no squares covered,” Miss Haldwyn instructed. “Fight them if they try to force you to uncover. They are bad people.”

Krista bucked beneath the men’s holds. Screeching in terror. Anger. For a moment, the device in her mouth was unable to compensate for the inhuman noise. And it stunned them long enough for her to wrench a leg loose.

She kicked. Knocking one man into the wall with a loud crash. But her leg was quickly pinned down once more. Harsh grips spreading her legs and jerking down her armor as the man at her head leaned in and ran his tongue along her jaw.

She thrashed. Still screaming. Panicked and desperate. No longer just angry.

Irate.

Furious.

Her chest felt fit to burst as her head snapped forward and collided with the man’s. With a sickening crack, the man slumped to one side.

Another crack echoed about the tiled room. Black spotting her vision. Ears ringing as blood blurred her vision.

And Gods, the pain.

Sharp and blinding.

Deep and confusing.

Her head felt like it was splitting open, and her brains were leaking down her face.

Oh. No.

Still blood.

Or tears.

She couldn’t seem to think straight. Vision swimming and body heavy. And no matter how much she willed her armor to stay on, she still felt it slip off her feet.

She looked up at Clark one more time. Barely able to focus on him. Seeing his lips move. Hearing nothing. Feeling her legs be moved, but not understanding what they intended to do.

She wanted D.

D wouldn’t do this to her.

---

The door to the tavern snapped open for the second time that afternoon.

While the patrons had paid barely any mind to the drenched girl, no eye was left unturned where the Hunter was concerned. Watching as the man, surrounded in an aura that promised bloodshed and raised the fine hairs on their necks, swept through the room and disappeared through the doorway at the end of the bar.

He’d set them on edge. But he couldn’t bring himself to care much. Not when he’d been able to smell the cloying scent of Krista’s blood the moment the door opened. And where his hunger was typically quick to rise at the prospect of fresh blood, it was eerily quiet.

The man couldn’t say what precisely set him on this path. Erembour tucked into his coat as he searched for the girl. But something was wrong. And he was entirely prepared to shed blood.

He reached the bathroom, fingers wrapping about the handle and twisting it. And it was locked, because why not.

“Occupied! Use the other one!”

The locking mechanism snapped, but the door still did not budge.

Wonderful.

A repeat of Puregon was in order.

Inside, the men froze. Terror gripping them.

Crack!

The door bowed inwards. Splintering. And slowly, it swung open.

Without the door as a buffer, the Hunter’s aura was like a miasma. Stifling and choking. And Clark turned to stare upon the imposing man that seemed to be growing before him. Shifting just enough to reveal the knife he had pressed to Krista’s neck.

“Any closer and I’ll slit her throat.”

Time screeched to a halt.

Beneath the shadow of the broad-brimmed hat, slim eyes burned like coals. Pupils mere slits as they took in the scene.

Dared him to make good on that threat.

Clark quickly realized that he had fucked up. But despite this, he dared. Despite knowing the Hunter was horribly upset. Pressing the blade against the pale neck until blood bubbled up around the edge as he ordered the men surrounding him, “Get him.”

Clark watched the Hunter strike with deadly efficiency as the men came pouring out of the bathroom. Sidestepping the swing of a bladed wedge. Elbowing the wielder in the jaw. Kicking out at the next man and effectively knocking his knee in the wrong direction.

He didn’t catch what happened to the third man. But he knew he was dead when his body merely crumpled to the floor.

Cannon fodder.

That’s what they were to the Hunter. And in a small aspect, even to the girl. Because he’d lost two men. And all over one girl. But then, what should he have expected?

Perhaps if he’d seen her ears before attempting to go this far, he might’ve declined the job. But here he was. One man dead at his side. One dead in the hall. And one very upset Dhampir looking at him like he was the top dog on his shit list.

It was no wonder the other guy didn’t want to do this himself.

Unless he had not realized either?

Clark swallowed thickly as the girl beneath him started to stir. Silently sobbing as she spotted the fearsome man now advancing on them. And behind him stood the owner and the sheriff. Neither watching what was sure to unfold. Eyes instead on the two men moaning in the hall.

“Look, man,” Clark started, attempting to extricate himself. “It was never meant to go this far. I truly apologize for targeting your whore.”

Chilled fingers lashed out and snatched him up by the scruff of his neck. Sharp nails digging into his flesh. Lifting him off the floor until he stared back at that terrifying gaze.

“You’re only sorry because you were caught.”

It was said so softly. So quietly. And honestly, that calm fury was one of the most panic-inducing angers he’d ever witnessed.

The cold crimson eyes turned down and narrowed, and he followed the look. Horrified at the thought that the Hunter could very well be considering removing his still-exposed family jewels.

Too right he was.

But D knew that might land himself in hot water given the circumstances. Killing two men who’d attacked them could be written off as self-defense. But mutilating a man under the supervision of the sheriff would be too far.

Not that the man didn’t deserve it.

Instead, he turned and threw the man into the hall for the official to deal with. More concerned with Krista and her still-bleeding face.

A part of him was infinitely grateful that his hunger was still nonexistent.

Gently, he tipped her to one side and worked loose the frayed rope from her arms. Unstrapped the device and pulled it from her slack jaw. And slowly, she worked her jaw as he pressed his left hand to her wound.

“Hey, D,” she rasped after a long while.

“Hey.”

Briefly, she smiled. Her relief palpable. “My head has the ouchies.”

A small flash of amusement. Mostly veiled by his irritation and worry, but something Krista could still see. “I’m sure.”

“I’m tired and cold. What’s the dablage?”

Should he consider that an accident, or just her attempting to find some humor in the situation?

“You have a concussion.” Her eyes were closed before he could finish, and with a small shake he said, “Try to stay awake.”

With a jerk, her eyes snapped open but were still glassy. “I was jus’ blinkin’.”

“Have shorter blinks.”

“Fuck.”

D stretched back and snatched up her discarded belt and armor. Gently maneuvering it over her feet and up her legs. Briefly deliberating on checking her for signs of trauma while simultaneously keeping her hidden from prying eyes as the sheriff stiffly made his way over. Cane clacking sharply against the wood floor.

A quick visual check that she didn’t protest.

No blood. No seminal fluid.

A small sniff.

He could smell the men’s prior arousals. Nothing more.

“Does your no-no square hurt anywhere?”

Her brow furrowed, thoughts still a bit muddled. “No? Well… my hips? Those are kinda in the square.”

She was fine. Because he could have been wrong, but he was sure that only one had attempted anything by the time he arrived. And from what he could see of the man’s privates, he’d been clean. But the reassurance was nice.

Over her hips the bottoms went.

“Been in town less than two days, Hunter. Already attractin’ trouble,” said the sheriff, voice gruff.

Without a word, D armed up Krista. Wrapping her in the last bit of his shirt and his coat.

“You should take her over to the clinic and get her looked at.”

“I have her.” The Hunter turned to face the older man as he openly scoffed. Cane striking the floor. But D ignored him. Turning to the tavern owner as she eyed the broken door and blood-stained bathroom. And broken tiles in the corner. “I will pay for the damage once I have her settled.”

The woman nodded dumbly. Her horrified stare slowly taking in Krista’s sorry state and looking decidedly ill as she studied the headwound. “Don’t ah… don’t worry about it. There’s nothing I can say or really do to make up for one of my workers doing this to her.”

Too true.

------

The lab was in absolute disarray. Tables overturned and crumpled. Notes blackened and scattered about the floor like ashes. And in the midst of the chaos stood one girl. The epitome of a healthy Human teen raised in the sun with her honey skin tone and her sun-bleached hair. Rosy-cheeked as she skipped about the wreckage, humming and giggling excitedly.

Aston.

A name that easily gave most the willies.

And for those it didn’t? They were probably just as twisted as her.

Her origins were up for debate to most. Some believing she was birthed from the Earth itself. Others, that she rose from a pool of toxic waste.

Laun and Edmont knew better.

She crawled out of Hell.

Or… that’s what they wished.

In reality, she was an experiment that proved useless for the purpose the Council desired. But she’d been so quick to kill and take command that the Council pulled her into their ranks.

Both men were grateful they’d not been the reason behind her existence.

They just had to deal with her shit.

And that meant staring in despair as months of research were destroyed by her touch.

She lifted a torn page to her face. Dual toned eyes a mix of mud and spring grass narrowed as she studied the scribblings. “More notes on things you aren’t supposed to be focusing on!” She didn’t sound surprised, but she threw the paper to one side and continued on.

Edmont snatched up the note just as it began to droop. Blackening from her prior point of contact and spreading like ink. Frustrated and with a barely contained snarl, the scientist threw the page to the floor and watched it turn to dust.

He hoped her own ability would cause her flesh to rot.

“Now!” The woman spun about and eyed the men. Edmont clearly fuming. Laun close by, but calm. “Perhaps you will focus on your designated tasks? After all, the clones are fine.”

Laun stepped forward, appearance still calm. But silently, he was incensed. “Aston, as I tried to inform you earlier, I requested Edmont look into this. Their bloodlust needs to be staunched. It is becoming a problem.”

A slow smile curled Aston’s cherry-red lips as she drifted closer. Petite feet the color of graphite just barely touching the ground. And equally dark fingers patted Laun’s cheek once she was able. “There is no problem, Lord Laun.” The first two fingers of her opposite hand crooked twice. “This ‘problem’ is exactly what we need. In fact, I wish they were all as wonderful as the oldest one. It’s a shame so many are so timid.”

“You mean ‘kind’.”

A thick silence fell over the room.

The pale Noble’s vision snapped about. The flesh of his cheek blackening and sloughing off as he stumbled back. Face twisted in pain. And while it killed Edmont to see this and do nothing, that’s exactly what the scientist did.

“Lord Laun, I said what I meant.” Aston’s voice maintained its sweet, playful cadence, but underneath was a threat the men knew she’d make good on. “No more deviations. No more foul ups. Start gathering the people we discussed.”

Now, she paused. Face contorting in an ugly show of shark-like teeth. “I want that bastard out of the picture. Are we clear?”

“Crystal.”

------

“Always keep your no-no squares covered. Fight them if they try to force you to uncover. They are bad people.”

Krista turned her gaze up to the woman.

Miss Haldwyn.

She loved Miss Haldwyn. Sometimes wishing the teacher could adopt her.

She thinks she tried.

Krista pressed a hand to her chest. “Why? I mean, I already do because of the rules.”

The teacher smiled sadly. Briefly removing her glasses to rub at her tired hazel eyes. “Only someone you love and want to be with forever should see your no-no squares. And doctors, but only for health reasons. Even if I teach you nothing else, please remember your no-no squares.”

“Do boys have no-no squares?”

“Only one,” she murmured. “And the same rule applies.”

“Only look if I love them and want to be with them forever?”

“Exactly. You both have to want it. You both have to be sure.”

After a quick glance around, Krista slowly eased her head into the woman’s lap. Ignoring her hunger for just a moment longer as the woman’s slender fingers carded through her hair.

---

Pain that was bone deep and body wide roused Krista from a sleep she didn’t remember entering.

In fact, she was having trouble remembering much of anything about the day.

With her one eye, she glanced about the room. Fingers searching and finding fuzzy warmth.

Erembour.

She could feel now that he was pressed against the length of her body. Large head nestled against her belly. And with a groan, she inclined her head enough to look around.

Violet eyes blinked back before the Demon rubbed his snout against her.

But she kept looking about. Searching. Seeing nothing. “D?” she called, voice wavering.

Why was she anxious?

Why did her stomach feel so upset?

Why did she hurt so much?

Why couldn’t she remember?!

Even her dream was attempting to slip through the cracks. And while she knew it was just a memory, to feel it attempting to float away and become something more distant hurt.

‘I never really stopped to grieve her…’

She released a shuddering breath. Frustration building until her eyes watered and her head pounded angrily. Previous pain seeming to explode.

A chilled hand pressed to her forehead, and a calm swept over her. Pain briefly abating.

“Calm yourself.”

Part of her didn’t want to calm down.

Part of her wanted to rip and tear.

Destroy everything around until all that remained were those she cared for. Safe and sound.

But nothing she did would ever bring back the dead.

So, she calmed. Staring up at the Hunter and the glass of water he held.

And boy, did her bladder ache.

“My bladder’s gonna pop…”

“Not on the bed.”

“Yup! It’s gonna do it! Ka-pow! Pee everywhere!” She softly giggled. Closing her eye before sighing. “Jokes aside, can you pull me up? I feel like an overcooked noodle.”

He did. Setting the glass of water to one side. Helping her up. Watching her every move. Every expression. And the man could see that she was in a great amount of pain. Lightheaded and dizzy as she waddled off to the bathroom.

The door was cracked, but that didn’t stop them from hearing what sounded like a cow pissing on a rock.

“Gods! I feel so much better!”

She wasn’t even finished.

“Seems her concussion is healing,” said the countenanced carbuncle, forming in his palm and twisting about to eye the door. “But her face… not so much. I guess her body is focusing on the more severe issue?”

At the man’s quiet agreement, Hand sucked in a breath. “Shame. She has really poor luck.”

“I be a danger magnet!” she called.

“Finish peeing!”

“I did! I’m just sitting here. Hurting. Tired.”

This time, D was the one to call out as he sat on the edge of the bed. “You need to drink.”

A long pause.

Eventually, she muttered a soft ‘okay’.

Water running as she washed her hands.

Water off.

“Yo! What the fuck happened to my face?!”

Another pause.

“Better question; why am I just now realizing something is wrong with my face? For fuck’s sake, I can’t even open my left eye.”

The girl exited the bathroom then and shambled across the room. Flopping down at his side and quietly taking the glass. “Thank you for the water.”

D nodded. Watching as she sipped on the drink. After a moment, her brow furrowed. Eyes glassy and distant. And he knew that she was probably beginning to remember. When her hand raised and began digging at her arm, he gently pushed it back down. But he said nothing. Letting her process.

“Oh…” she eventually breathed. Fingers feathering over the stitches stretching from her forehead to her cheek before she reached out to tightly grip his forearm. Saying nothing for another long moment.

“Sorry about your shirt.” Up his brows went. But she finished by saying, “And thank you for rescuing me.”

“I can’t imagine why I might blame you,” he murmured.

“I’m just sorry that it was ruined. I feel a bit at fault, I guess. That guy said that I had to be searching with the way I was dressed.”

D clucked his tongue, and (unless her eye was betraying her) she’d swear his eyes spilled a malevolent blood light for a split second.

For some reason, she was comforted with the thought.

“It’s an excuse for the immoral. They justify their actions by placing the blame on the victim.” D slowly turned to face her a bit more directly. Pressing on the area around her wound. Feeling for the crack in her skull and finding it smaller than before.

“People like them do not view you as a person. You become an object to be used and disposed of. Never think you are at fault. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He nodded. Pointing to her glass. “Drink.”

Back the glass went. Cool water settling heavily in her belly. But it stayed down, and she half-grinned, half-grimaced at the man. “Thanks. Am I allowed to sleep?”

She was stretching out before he could answer. Letting Erembour curl up against her once more as D pressed Hand to her forehead.

The cool warmth was so very nice. Already pushing her to the brink of sleep. Mind calming.

“Yeah. Rest up, kid.”

She hummed, lightly cupping the hand against her head as she slipped further into slumber.

She didn’t think she would ever stop being thankful for her companions.

---

Rain blurred D’s view of the street as he gazed out the window. Hand still pressed against the girl’s forehead. While she didn’t stir much, she clutched at his hand with any small movement. Whimpering pitifully. Occasionally startling into semi-alertness before drifting off once more.

Brief flashes of lightning illuminated their room.

Again, he would not sleep this night. He was on high alert. Watching over Krista, yes. Making sure her state did not deteriorate. But… something stirred the air.

“… Hunter.”

D turned to eye the Demon still curled around Krista, and he determined he was not the only one on edge. However, neither commented.

Instead, the Hunter pulled his hand free. She whined weakly but did not fight. Leaving him to silently rise from the bed’s comforts. As he approached the window, a lurid light coursed through his eyes. His aura spread across the tavern. Searching.

There was nothing in the streets that he could see.

No malicious persons occupying the tavern that he could feel.

But he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that the town had a pest skulking about.

He drifted back to the bed. Passing his hand across Krista’s forehead as he settled in. She was quick to latch on. Unbothered by the pressure it put on her wound.

While he hadn’t said as much, thinking of her wound disgusted him.

Those men had disgusted him.

He could put together what happened. Seeing behind closed eyes: her struggle. Putting up too much fight for them. Killing one. And them deciding that the only way to remove some of her fight was to strike her with the bladed wedge.

It was abhorrent.

And added one more scar to her body.

It added character, he supposed. But it was a shame that she was so young and so marred. Some scars nearly invisible. Some still a fresh pink.

A couple added by his own hand.

Most not.

D sighed and turned back to the window.

---

November 13, 13,012

Krista lurched up in the bed with a gasp, startled awake by outlandish dreams. Nightmares. She felt that’s what the majority of her mornings consisted of. Honestly, she was tired of jerking into consciousness.

But for now, she attempted to clean off the sweat dotting her brow and irritating her wound. Attempted to calm her heart as it beat heavily and quickly in her chest.

Dread settled in the pit of her stomach.

She cast her eye up at D. Able to meet his gaze with a smile. “Well, at least I didn’t start clawing at your eyes. Again.”

Hand snorted, agreeing. “Have bad dreams?”

“Yeah. You could say that.” She leapt to her feet and skittered to the bathroom where she scrutinized her appearance. Poking and prodding at her swollen eye and face.

It’d gone down a bit, but her flesh was black and blue. Bruised horrendously. And the stitches in her face didn’t help.

“I so pretty!”

“Quite.”

Her cheeks flushed as she laughed. Not entirely sure the person to answer was teasing her. “Hey, can we go see Fieri before the tailor?” She poked her head around the doorframe in time to catch the Hunter’s nod, and her smile grew as she came out to dig in the saddlebags. “Great! I’m gonna squeeze in one more bath! Do you need to pee before I shut myself in?”

Soap and undies in hand, Krista turned and promptly halted in her tracks. The Hunter stared pointedly at her, and after a moment, she noted his hair was damp.

The fact did not deter her from her original question. “But do you need to pee?”

More silent staring.

“Do you pee?”

No answer.

Slowly, she started inching back to the ajar door. “No? No pee? I’m the weird one? Gotcha!”

The door shut with a soft click behind the wide-eyed girl.

Yes, if nothing else, the girl was tenacious.

With Erembour still lounging on the bed, the peaceful quiet accented by the white noise of the running shower, D began rearranging the saddlebags. He made room for the extra supplies he’d picked up before he bathed. And eventually, near-exploding bags were relaxed and ready for more, if needed.

Not necessarily advised.

In fact, they would probably require another set of bags if they wanted Krista’s clothes to come with them.

By the time Krista was exiting the bathroom, D was back by the bed. Pulling on his coat.

“Oh, wow! There’s so much room!”

Then came the shriek. But he did not look. Taking the time to strap his sword in place.

“Why isn’t it fitting?!”

Grunting.

He was simply refusing to turn about at this point.

“Maybe if I put some in another bag?”

Another screech.

“Deeeeeeeee!” she wailed.

Finally, he turned to face her. Taking in the small explosion of items surrounding her, and the two limp bags within her reach.

Yes.

She surely was a walking disaster.

“I don’t know how you do it,” Krista muttered. She poked and prodded at the scattered objects, eyes narrowed in irritation. “Teach me your secrets.”

D shooed her off to one side, packing everything up again. Mindful to place the girl’s undergarments and soap on the very top.

No sense in repeating this every time she needed to bathe.

But as he was finishing the second bag, he spotted Krista leaning over. Finger outstretched.

The contents within burst out at her small touch. And the man turned a critical look upon her. Asking through look alone if she could restrain herself.

She only laughed, skittering across the room to gather her weapon and boots. Strapping on her belt and cloak. And a few moments later, she strutted about the room with her torn boot flopping comically. Declaring she would leave him to the packing despite her insistence that she packed much the same way as he.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re using magic to make everything fit.”

And if he were so inclined, D might’ve shaken his head at the girl’s antics as he shouldered the saddlebags and scooped up the Demon.

---

Rain continued to steadily pour from the dark skies.

In fact, Fieri didn’t think it’d stopped once over the past day.

It was bad for business, but he’d be damned before he left the protection of his rollout awning. Knowing that someone would eventually come. He just needed patience.

But as he sat beneath the shelter provided by his armored vehicle, chin resting atop his knuckles, Fieri would admit to one thing: the weather made for a long, sleepy day.

The large man adjusted himself in the chair. Eyeing the wet streets and his fellow caravaneers. The lot of them slumped in their seats. Some huddled beneath umbrellas and awnings. Others pulling their hats and hoods down further.

An older man rivaling himself in height stopped before him, downturned eyes tired. “Hey, Marty,” Fieri greeted as he unfolded a chair. “Care to sit?”

“Gladly,” the fair man groaned, sinking down. He pulled off his hat and shook it free of water. “A fair bit of the group is planning on packing it up.”

“On such a lovely day?! No!” Fieri snarked. “Someone is bound to come by.”

“Maybe the two drowned rats?”

“Huh?” Fieri leaned forward to peer around Marty, a broad smile brightening his features. It didn’t take much for him to recognize the pair as they strode down the street. “Oh! Looks like they’re stopping in today!”

“The Hunter and the girl?” At Fieri’s enthusiastic nod, Marty rubbed at his neck, head shaking. “I dunno about them. Heard they got into a bit of trouble yesterday.”

“They’re good people.”

“Fieri, two men were pronounced dead on the spot! And two others were carted off to the hospital!”

“Not for no reason!” the darker merchant snapped. “That man doesn’t kill for pleasure.”

Silence, and they waited as the two travelers came up to Fieri’s stand.

As he stood to greet them, Fieri felt his guts twist anxiously at the sight of Krista’s face. Horrified that the gash stretched so far. Looked so deep. “Sonuvabitch.”

“Aren’t I pretty?” Krista responded playfully. Limping up to him. “I think D did pretty good with the stitches.”

“What happened? Marty mentioned there was some drama yesterday, but he didn’t elaborate much.”

“Well, I went to pee in the tavern’s public restroom. A few guys later and I look like this!” She ran her fingers over her closed eye. Frowning briefly. “I remember a bit more now, but some bits are still a little foggy. And I still can’t figure out what they were trying to do.”

Fieri listened attentively, but he found his eyes wandering her body. Taking in the bruising littering her flesh from the neck down. The rope burns twisting about her arms like snakes. And slowly, he turned a critical eye on D. Silently asking how she didn’t know.

In a movement so slight he almost missed it, D shook his head. And Fieri knew then to drop it.

He didn’t entirely agree with the Hunter’s decision, but he said nothing. If the man thought that this was best for now, he would leave it be.

“Well! Next time, you try to give someone the ol’ what-fer!”

“Oh, I’m sure D will get me all learned up!”

“He better!” he laughed, but he cut his eyes at the man in black one more time.

To his surprise, D softly nodded.

Alright.

“So, did you come to see the stuff?”

“The stuff? Oh! Yes, the stuff. Show us the stuff.”

Fieri turned and reached for the large hatch. Sending Marty a smug smile as he waved him to one side. It popped open with a loud hiss, fog cascading out and down the sides. “So, what are y’all looking for? Fruits? Vegetables? Grains? Dairy? Nuts? Because I know D doesn’t eat much. But you!” He shook a finger at her and laughed heartily. “You can eat!”

“Sometimes!” She laughed a moment before it petered off into an uncomfortable smile. Wishing her stomach wasn’t so finicky. “Do you have any tart fruits? Or just… not sweet food?”

“Of course!” He flicked open another hatch and pulled out a slim cannister filled with slices and chunks of various fruits. Pointing out the ones she’d want.

And from there, they moved through his entire inventory. Anything that would keep for a long time (because Krista seriously doubted they could install an icebox in the horse) and would not upset her stomach. Bits that were poked at D were ingested, but he didn’t give her much input.

In the end, she walked away with a bag of spicy seeds that popped in her mouth, dried meat, fire-salts cheese, and two jars of pickles. One that was plain dill. One that was Fieri’s own making that had a bit of kick.

And D watched the girl hop from foot to foot in her excitement. Purposefully ignoring her aches and pains for just a moment as she held the jars above her head and danced about.

Yes. Her personality and innocence were still a welcome change in this world that seemed to have it in for the best of them.

---

With the streets empty and slick, Krista found herself bouncing around like a maniac. Stomping in every puddle along the path to the tailor’s shop. The activity seeming to stretch out her sore muscles and bring her a small amount of relief. And she had no fear of being seen without her cloak. Arms spread wide.

By the time they arrived, she looked as if she’d just stepped from the shower. Hair dripping and clinging to her forehead. Beneath the awning, she kicked off her boots and draped her cloak over the top.

The bell above the door clanged loudly.

Sitting against the far wall, the tailor and sheriff chatted. The gruffer man tapping his cane to a rhythm only he could hear. But all talk ceased once they entered, and the sheriff’s bushy brows rose into his hairline.

“Well, color me surprised,” he said. “I didn’t expect you to be up and about today.”

Krista gave a small shrug and an even smaller smile. “D is pretty good at patching me up.”

There was a heavy pause as the man leaned forward and rapped the cane on the floor with a loud clack. “But he can’t patch up everything. Can you, Dhampir?”

She was immediately uncomfortable. Shrinking back until D pressed a hand to the shoulder closest to him. When she looked up at him, he inclined his head towards the tailor.

“Try on your clothes. I’ll be here.”

Her eye turned back to the sheriff warily. But eventually, it found the tailor. Much more pleasant and welcoming in appearance. At his little wave, she followed him into the back. Out of sight of her companions. Into a small room with a shiny cardboard box in the corner.

“A couple of things to know about your clothes, girl,” the tailor started. “One: they might be a bit loose. I planned them that way to fit your armor and any filling out you might do.”

“Okay.”

He held up two fingers. “Two: they are made with a self-mending fabric blend, then treated with you-name-it resistant dyes.”

“But I shouldn’t expect to fall into shit and come out smelling like roses?”

The older gentleman pushed his spectacles up until they were safely nestled in his hair as he released a sharp laugh. “Yes, I suppose that’s one way of putting it, girl.” He reached around the corner and pulled out a few more boxes. Handing them over with a grunt. “And I took the liberty of contacting the cobbler on the off-chance you didn’t.”

Krista’s eye sparkled as she took them inside. Giggling excitedly, she shut the door with a squealed ‘thank you’. Rushing to look through the new clothes.

Poet shirts.

Beautiful pastel poet shirts.

Baby pink. A soft teal. Pale green. And a light, earthy brown.

And four pairs of riding breeches.

For a moment, she felt it was too much.

She felt spoiled.

But wiggling into the soft material, she decided it didn’t matter.

She gingerly ran her fingertips over the stitches in her face as she pulled her hair out of the pink shirt. Smiling broadly. “I love it!” she exclaimed.

No response.

With a hum, she tried on the boots. Wondering if he just needed to tend to someone else as she found the pair that fit. It was as she was gathering everything in her arms that she heard it.

The sheriff’s gruff voice. Carrying across the store and rising in intensity.

And then, a crash that had her scrambling, boots in hand, towards the front of the store. Stumbling to an abrupt halt at the corner as she smacked into the Hunter’s agitated aura.

“She needs to settle down! Not go chasing after creatures of the night! And after what she went through yesterday, you think continuing this with her is smart?! That girl looks ready to buy the farm!”

“She is stronger than you think, and she chose this path. I will help her see it through.”

She could hear them clearly now. D’s low timbre, soft but threatening as he rebutted what the sheriff said. And even if the sheriff wasn’t angry at her, the way he said ‘that girl’ made her want to escape.

Slink out of the shop and scrub the dirt off her flesh.

She couldn’t explain it.

“See it through?! The only thing you’ll help her see is an early grave!”

She peeked around the corner.

If she hadn’t wanted to flee before, she certainly did now.

Mustache as fierce as his steely gaze twitching, the sheriff had angled up his cane. Jabbing it into the Hunter’s chest as his free hand waved and flapped with each word.

But that cane kept prodding.

She figured that if the older man was smart, he’d stop. Because while she just barely remembered the expression on D’s face the prior day, she was still surprised to see him in such a mood at that moment. A dark look that pulled his lips tight and narrowed his gaze shadowing his face.

She didn’t like that they were upset at one another, but there wasn’t much she could do. Except hope that the Hunter’s patience didn’t run out, because the tailor didn’t seem to be defusing the situation much (try as he might).

“What with the way you refused to have the doctor tend to her! What if she has trauma?! Or is now carrying –!”

“He didn’t make it that far, on either account.”

“How do you know that for certain?! Did you ask her?!”

“She does not understand.”

“What do you mean she doesn’t understand?! She’s a grown woman!”

Krista ducked back around the corner. Ashamed, but not sure why.

“She was never taught, and I don’t find right now to be an appropriate time for such a discussion. Nor do I find it to be any of your concern.”

“And somehow you’re more entitled to decide when and what she learns?! If you aren’t her father, her brother, or her lover, I don’t think even the mighty D has the right to keep her in the dark!”

“I will teach her, but not now.”

Silence.

Leaden.

Uncomfortable.

“Garrett, I agree with the Hunter. At least… for the time being. Someday, she will have to know.”

More quiet.

A soft sigh.

“Krista, you can come out.”

She crept out. Still uncomfortable. Wishing she weren’t so in the dark, but unable to stop the curving of her lips as she approached the Hunter. “Hey, you said my name.”

“I did.”

Without another word, Krista dipped down to deposit her items. And it wasn’t until there was an explosion of clothing that she remembered she had a cursed touch.

As her boisterous laugh bounced around the room, D found himself momentarily and minutely staggered. Knowing she was in pain, physically and emotionally. But still so quick to laugh. Something he’d taken note of before that moment.

Especially the night prior. When she was visibly upset but still able to joke about her bladder popping.

Yes, she had her ‘everything is terrible’ moments, but it was moments like these where her nature truly shined.

As he was repacking the bags, the tailor took Krista off to pay. When they came back, the man was carrying a set of medium saddlebags. He passed them off to D with a subtle glare aimed at the sheriff. “Consider the bags a… consolation gift, if you will.”

D nodded in thanks. And in the bags went everything that belonged to Krista so they could avoid another explosion of items.

It was nice. Air lighter in the room as she bounced about and admired clothes she would never wear. Chatting with the tailor. And the sheriff seated in the corner, not saying a word.

But of course, all good things must end.

The hair on his neck rose and, from the inner folds of his coat, Erembour growled.

Shouts echoed from down the street.

“Put on your boots.”

She leaned into his view, grey eye wide. “Because of the yellin’?”

At his nod, she tugged on the boots and profusely thanked the tailor who hadn’t yet heard the commotion. Meeting D outside to pull on her cloak and toss out her ruined boots. The sheriff did not follow. And she doubted they knew anything was going on.

In the distance, they could see the crowd clogging the street. People yelling and running about. Krista looked back at D. “Can you catch what’s got them riled up?”

Eyes closed, he listened. Turning his head just a bit. “Someone has been found drained of blood.”

“And they think it was us?”

“Perhaps.”

She glanced about. “Can we avoid them to get to the stables?”

Another bout of listening. “There are people watching for us there.”

“Then we just walk into their little group and see what’s up?”

“Not much choice.”

“Well, we could ditch the horse and sneak out the gate,” Hand interjected.

D and Krista both threw that option off the table. And that was just before they all heard the screech of the gates slamming down. So…

“Seems that even if we wanted to, we can’t.”

Trapped. Like rats.

And only one thing they could do.

D led the way. Guiding her down the street with a calmness she didn’t feel.

It took everything in her not to tear off screaming when a man stepped out of an alley to their left and yelled, “You there! Have you seen…”

She whirled around to look at him. Watching as his face scrunched up in disgust. Then realization. Finally, anger.

He leveled his gun at them and loosed a sharp whistle. “Oi! I found ‘em!”

And the people descended upon them much like ants to sugar. Effectively surrounding them and blocking their exit. And the man from before, wary and suspicious, said, “Woman was found drained of her blood. Seein’ what you are and how you two killed a couple of men yesterday without any problem, you happen to be our only suspects.”

Krista turned her petrified gaze upon the Hunter. Feeling decidedly ill as she realized just how dangerous their situation was, and that two people had ended up dead. “D?” her voice wavered. “Did we kill someone?”

“Oh, don’t play stupid!” A woman stepped forth this time with her rifle at the ready. Muzzle aimed at Krista’s chest. “Because of you, my brother and his friend are dead!”

The air thickened with the mounting tension.

And Krista?

Krista felt like crying. Any sense of safety flew out the window. Any bravery she’d managed to gather.

Gone.

“We did cause the deaths of two men,” D eventually spoke. Watching as the crowd became abuzz with this confirmed information. Watching as Krista paled in horror. “Although, I believe self-defense and murder are two very different things.”

More murmurings as the crowd contemplated the implications of his words.

But the woman persisted. Jerking her firearm as she shouted, “Yeah? And what about your raw steaks?!”

Krista threw her hands in the air. “What does that have to do with anything?! I haven’t been able to eat properly in the last two months! So forgive me if an undercooked steak is the one thing I can eat more than two bites of without wanting to vomit!”

The woman snorted derisively. “Or you found out your steaks just weren’t cutting it and tried to find something fresh. Probably earned that ugly scar and realized that not all Humans are weak!”

Now, Krista did openly weep. Overwhelmed. Briefly wondering if she did deserve her wound as her fingers trailed up the line of stitches. Nails digging in. But she knew.

Knew that nothing she did earned her anything she received in the bathroom.

In place of all else, anger reared its ugly head. “I just wanted to pee! I don’t see how that earned me a spot on the bathroom floor with a fucked-up face!”

This seemed to take the woman aback. Green eyes wide for a moment before she turned her sights to D. “Well, that doesn’t excuse the Dhampir!”

“That ‘Dhampir’ is the Vampire Hunter, D!” came a booming voice. And with a few shoves and choice words, Fieri pushed his way through the crowd until he stood at their side. Angled himself between Krista and the muzzle of the rifle. “One would think he’d avoid becoming the very thing he hunts.”

“And you could very well be a thrall,” she growled. “Saying all of this just because they willed it.”

“And maybe your brother deserved what he got!”

The resounding blast silenced the aghast crowd.

With nary a sound, Fieri crumpled at their feet.

Chapter Text

The crowd was still.

Watching, doing nothing.

Collectively in disbelief.

They’d been prepared to shoot the Dhampir and his companion.

But to shoot a Human that had a chance at being saved?

“Mary, I think that was too far.”

“Bullshit!” she cried. “How many more people are you willing to lose to these monsters?!”

“You’re the only monster I see here!” Krista shouted. She had never been so bloody horrified and so tremendously incensed at once. Watching as the blood pooled around the man with a sense of morbid fascination that she hated.

But she was disgusted.

Irate.

Heat filled her chest, and it felt fit to burst.

Just like in the bathroom.

But this time, her ribs felt like they were breaking. Spreading apart to contain all her rage. Her heart beating far quicker than it typically did.

It was uncomfortable.

She thought it might be attempting to escape. Perhaps to beat the woman to death.

She could hope. Because at this point, she realized what this was.

A lynching.

To Hell with proof.

She pitied the poor souls that didn’t stand a chance against something like this.

Mary, face twisted in contempt, chambered another round and watched as the Hunter pulled Fieri close. “I won’t stand idly by as you get away with everything you’ve done! And if that means pruning a few weeds, then so be it!”

Her back tensed uncomfortably. Because how dare she compare people to weeds?

How dare she think that Krista wouldn’t ruin her day.

She didn’t realize she’d started forward until D’s hand clamped down on her shoulder. Tight and uncomfortable. Perhaps painful. But she could hardly bring herself to care.

“No, no!” the woman tutted, a sort of desperate air about her. “Let her go, Hunter! Let her reveal her true self!”

D maneuvered Krista backwards, wholly ignoring Mary. “Calm yourself,” he breathed, voice commanding despite the soft tone. “Killing her will accomplish nothing.”

“I wouldn’t kill her.”

The look in her eye said otherwise, and when she attempted to pull herself away, D’s grip hardened. The bones beneath his hand cracking and popping in an unpleasant way.

He wasn’t entirely sure it was because of him.

“Fieri is still alive. Only unconscious.”

This gave her pause. If only for a moment.

“I’d still like to slap her around a bit,” she admitted.

However, she did not move. Slumping beneath his grasp in defeat as D said to the woman, “I suggest you look closer to home for your killer.”

Affronted, Mary looked about the crowd. Down the street. At the man in black. “I still don’t see anyone that is closer than you. More capable than you.”

“Humans are far more capable than you realize.”

“I absolutely refuse to believe that!”

“Alright!” Krista suddenly snapped. “We get it! Humans can do no wrong in your eyes! So can we at least have Fieri taken to the clinic?!”

At her gesture, a handful of men rushed in and dragged Fieri’s large form away.

Well… that was one problem dealt with.

And while Krista was somewhat calmed by this, she was still incredibly frustrated. Body aching with a vengeance. Head pounding and teeth aching.

And horribly drained.

As if each limb were weighted and her head was too heavy for her neck to support.

She felt terrible.

And the scent of Fieri’s blood wasn’t helping.

She ran a hand across her face, no longer hearing the woman speak. Mind drifting off into another place. “D, I don’t feel too hot.”

The man turned his gaze upon her, and he had to agree. She looked rough. Skin pale and clammy in appearance.

“I need to go. Please.”

At this point, some of the crowd was beginning to thin out. Wanting nothing to do with what was happening. Attempting to locate the sheriff. Search the house of the deceased one more time.

But Mary… Mary was determined. “That’s it. I’m done with this back-and-forth bullshit.”

The end of her rifle belched fire.

A second shot rang out.

One aimed at the Hunter.

One at the girl.

D sidestepped the shot, and as Krista went to her knees with a gut-wrenching scream, he turned his gaze up to one side. Eyeing the man with blond hair as he attempted to duck back into the shadow of his perch.

At the same time, Mary looked absolutely petrified. Staring at Krista as if she couldn’t believe she was actually crippled by a bullet. And as she turned to stare at the house D had seen the man in, he could see the earpiece she wore.

And never once did her rifle waver from D.

Her lips barely moved as she breathed, “Please don’t kill them.”

“Perhaps you shouldn’t have missed.”

She spotted D. Watching as the Hunter held a slim finger to his lips and crept inside.

“Liam, what the fuck has come over you?”

“Well, y’know how I said I was going to the tavern for a drink?”

“Yeah?”

Clack.

“I ran into this pretty little thing there. Turns out, she’s a total bitch. Made a fool of me. And I found out she’d rather play stupid than have sex with someone who isn’t that Dhampir fucker.”

Clack.

“So you were going to fucking cheat on me?!”

Clack.

“Baby, please. I’ve had side girls for a while. Whores there keep their pretty mouths shut and know how to pleasure a man.”

Mary felt her eyes burning. Heart hurting. But she said nothing. And the ring wrapped about her finger felt more like a shackle.

Clack.

She kept her eyes on the house as the sheriff tapped her shoulder and leaned in to listen.

“Anyways, that’s not important. We were talking about the bitch. Dressed like she was just waiting for someone to come over with how much thigh she was showing. And when I found out she’d rather be that creature’s whore, I figured I’d hire some boys to teach her better.”

She looked down at Krista as the girl whined, hands clasped against her bloody belly. Yes, she’d pulled the trigger on the merchant. She didn’t like it, but it’d been necessary.

But watching Krista attempt to staunch the flow of blood, tears dripping down her cheeks, she felt horrid.

“And one of those boys was my brother.”

“Yeah! Who knew he’d be down for such a dirty job, huh?”

She wanted to vomit.

She loved her brother, but supposed he wasn’t as innocent as she first thought. So, she couldn’t blame the girl for fighting back.

“But Clark told me last night, when I visited him in his cell, that the girl wasn’t Human! Fuzzy little ears! And everything made so much sense! So… why not set them up?”

She closed her eyes, ashamed that (to an extent) she’d known about this plan. Willing to frame them for an attack because of her brother.

Had she known then what she knew now, she wouldn’t have been so angry. Wouldn’t have wanted to deal with any of this insanity. But she hadn’t known it would involve his already deceased mother. And that once she tried to dip out, everything would go to Hell.

Obviously, nothing was turning out in her favor.

He’d pulled out her younger brother and threatened to kill him.

Threatened to kill them all if he spotted anyone coming after him, because he’d be watching.

How could she refuse?

But now?

“Is my family still alive? Ma and Pa? Little Billy?”

“For the moment. I still haven’t heard you try to kill the Dhampir, again.”

“Because I’m hoping he kills you!” she screamed.

“What?!”

And inside the house, the Hunter dropped Erembour to the floor. Watching as the tiny puppy waddled up to the now frantic man.

D had long since released the three family members on the bottom floor and told them to stay put. Merely waiting in the shadow of the hall. Listening to the idiot explain his motives in a very cliché way. And now he listened as the man laughed at the tiny hound.

“This? This was your big plan?! You really think a puppy is going to do more than cute on me?”

The cutest, tiniest bork.

“Great plan, Mary. I’m so proud of you.”

There was an explosion of cold, rancid wind. Darkness flooding the room as Erembour swelled. Shadows and space around him rippling as he towered above the man.

If the Demon wanted to deal with this sociopath himself, so be it.

D made his way through the house. Ushering the family out into the streets as the man began screaming. And there, waiting for him, was Krista. Fingers digging into her belly. Sinking into her flesh. Pulling and tugging.

If she thought she felt bad before, she was certainly thinking she’d rather feel that way now.

Mary stood at her side, apologizing profusely. Attempting to help Krista up.

But Krista was having none of it. Snarling, “Bloody hell! I forgive you! But don’t fuckin’ touch me right now!”

The woman recoiled as if burned. Staring in horror at the smaller woman. And D could see why. The teeth she bared at the woman were far from normal. Canines extended beyond their typical range. And eyes that were previously grey flared with an angry light.

The Hunter stooped and pressed his hand to the nape of her neck. “Calm yourself.”

How many times would he need to remind her?

“I’m trying!” she hissed. “But my insides feel like they’re melting and I just wanna leave!”

“We need to tend to your wound.”

“Not here!” She stood, hunched but up. New clothes on the mend, but the red of her blood had yet to rinse out with the rain. “I’m done with this damn town! And I’m leaving whether they like it or not!”

He believed her. Could see the promise in her eyes as she turned her sights towards the gate.

---

The gates opened for the travelers without issue. Astride their dark horse, oversized Demon close behind, they fled the city.

To the west, the mountains were ending. A barely visible, jagged silhouette. And for a moment, D considered the possibility of angling towards the coast. But quickly decided against it. Knowing that it’d be faster to travel as the crow flies.

Well, assuming the mountains they’d be heading into soon enough didn’t hinder their speed.

Perhaps it’d be smarter to cut through to the east and go through the plains.

Either way, they didn’t stop until the city walls were out of sight.

Until tall trees loomed above them and rain struggled to seep through the canopy.

And Krista looked like death warmed over. Skin a sickly pallor as she heaved and shook. But any suggestion that was made regarding stopping before reaching the forest was out of the question. At least, it was once she spotted it in the distance.

In reality, it hadn’t taken long for them to cover the distance.

But it was long enough for smoke to start curling out from beneath her hand and a red rash to begin splotching her skin.

“How you holdin’ up, kid?” Hand enquired.

A rather unladylike snort erupted past her lips as she clawed at the skin around the wound. “Feel like hammered shit. And the hammer’s still hittin’ it.”

“Understandable.”

“But aside from ‘my guts are meltin' and itchin' like I got fleas’, I’m feelin' really sleepy.”

At least she was not attempting to play it off.

Further into the grove they went. The large redwoods soaring in height.

Once upon a time, redwoods wouldn’t have grown so far out. However, eleven thousand years and plenty of meddling and scientific engineering in the Nobles’ behalves had effectively given the ancient trees new life. A broader range of biomes in which they could thrive.

“Who just carries silver bullets around? Aren’t they expensive?!” she suddenly shouted.

“Since silver works well against Shifters, some towns make it a point to carry silver ammunition and blades,” said D. Pausing as Krista leaned over the side of the horse and vomited. “Especially if they have a particular problem with Shifters.”

Although she appreciated the tidbit of information, Krista grumbled in disgust. Shivering violently as she sniffed curiously. “I smell water.”

“Well, it is raining,” Hand remarked, wriggling under her lax hand to press against her wound. She was burning up.

It took a moment for her to register the sarcastic words. But when she did, her upper lip curled. “Har har… No, I smell water.”

“I got that.”

She grunted. “No, I smell water. Like, water.”

“Rain is water.”

“No!” she whined. If she could, she might’ve stomped her foot in a childish display of agitation. Instead, she lifted Hand away from her belly and pulled him close to her face. “I. Smell. Wa-ter.”

The countenanced carbuncle chortled. “D, help me out.”

“She smells water.”

“Of all the times you could develop a sense of humor!”

There was a short pause before Krista’s eyes brightened. “Water! From a pond!”

And now, Hand felt utterly dense. “Water.” Yes, he could smell it now. It smelled a bit like a lake turning over, although not as pungent. “How did you even smell that, kid?”

No response. Krista was slack in their hold. Eyes closed and breath a tad too shallow.

Perhaps it was for the best. D didn’t figure she would much appreciate him digging around in her belly for the bullet and any possible fragments.

Once the Hunter found a relatively dry area, he pulled the limp girl from the saddle and stretched her out on the thermal blanket. Working quickly to remove her shirt and damaged armor.

Much like her hand, the fetid wound belched smoke and blackened blood. Skin around the entry point beginning to slough off.

One could only imagine the effect it was having on her guts.

Admittedly, removing every piece was a chore. But capable hands meticulously prodded at every plausible inch of her stomach. Probed at the viscera in the immediate area until he was certain. And as for the dead flesh? He would keep an eye on it. If the need should arise, he would cut it out.

For now, he had some faith that her body would cycle it out on its own and simply dressed it as best as he could.

“Maybe digging her a hole to rest in isn’t the worst idea,” Hand murmured. “No harm in burying her for a bit.”

The Hunter agreed. Fingers easily clawing up the damp earth. And cocooned in the blanket, he buried her. Wondering if he’d ever needed to care for one person as much as he did her.

Not that it mattered.

Within an hour, her fever was on the decline.

---

Krista woke slowly, foggy mind chasing the remnants of a soft voice that seemed to be fading too fast. Trickling like sand betwixt spread fingers as her head pounded. And Gods, she wanted to understand what it was saying.

But…

It was gone.

Overshadowed by the all-over ache, wherein she felt as though she’d been put through the wringer.

No, she didn’t feel right at all.

Perhaps it was her belly?

She pushed herself up and blinked stupidly at her body.

Is this my body?

It didn’t look right.

It looked… too large.

Too dark.

Too… too…

She scrambled out of her hole. World spinning as she lurched to her feet. Breaths coming in short, gasping squeaks. Because damn it all, she shouldn’t be this tall!

A loud crack ruptured the silence, the ensuing pain forcing her to her knees amongst the damp leaves. Every bone feeling twisted and broken. Every muscle and tendon stretched and swollen.

Crimson hair dropped to the ground in large tufts.

What is going on?!

Bile flooded her mouth and tears left tracks down her cheeks.

And the one name she attempted to scream rasped in her throat until it died with an ugly yowl.

---

The Hunter capped off the canteen after dropping in a small tablet. Turning his attention to the five ugly-as-sin fish he currently had skewered by the tail. At his side, the horse drank heavily from the stream. And the Demon had stayed behind to watch over the girl.

There wasn’t much in the forest. Miscellaneous wildlife. Not many predators. He had no real cause for concern. But considering the stream was a few minutes from her, he would rather she be watched.

God forbid her state suddenly deteriorate.

With a soft sigh, he pulled up the two needles and fish.

In the distance, there was a low, distressed howl.

He pricked his ears.

He didn’t hear it, so much as he felt it. A prod for him to come back. And looking at the surrounding shadows, he could see slim tendrils of darkness writhing in agitation.

With a cluck of his tongue, he was off. Trusting that the horse would follow.

Within a matter of moments, he could hear the wailing. A shrill noise that had him on edge. Prepared to kill without a second thought. But all he found when he arrived at the small camp was an empty bed of soil and one very distressed Krista.

One very… misshapen Krista that smelled wild. Untamed.

She was an absolutely wretched sight. Skin that jumped and twitched cracking open as her slim body swelled in size. Face disfigured and twisted in agony as she cried. Seams of her breeches strained by the change.

At her side, a man he did not immediately recognize ran a hand along her rippling back. But it was almost too obvious. With skin the color of obsidian and eyes a startling violet as they turned up at him, and he looked understandably worried.

Erembour said nothing. Likely could not. Merely attempted to comfort Krista as she continued to scream in pain.

This was something he could admit he wasn’t expecting to come back to, and he wasn’t entirely sure how to help her through the transformation.

---

An hour passed.

One very long hour.

And at the end of that hour, he could (with confidence) say that something was not quite right.

Yes, everything had come to an end. No longer did her bones snap, crackle, and pop like a good rice cereal. Nor did her muscles writhe like snakes beneath her flesh. He’d managed to remove her pants before they succumbed to the strain. And now, staring at her form as he ran a hand along her scalp and through the small shock of red hair, he wondered if he should have done the same with her replaced armor. With each quick pant, he heard it groan. Leather squeaking in protest. And he’d loosened it as much as it could.

But…

Once upon a time, the Hunter stumbled across a village. A tribe of sorts, really. The homes built of the forest’s natural resources. Clay from the river to build anything they desired. And people who walked around in custom armors and simple leathers. Some with tails coiled about their bodies. Others with stubs that flicked from side to side.

Some with pointed ears sitting high on their heads. Others with elfin ears.

And there was such a wide range of skin tones. Pale as alabaster. Dark as ebony.

The village had a very homey and welcoming feel to it. But he could remember being approached by the Chief, the older woman concerned about the reason for his visit considering how secluded they were. However, he’d merely explained he was passing through. Observing the tight-knit community.

And eventually, a gaggle of children scurried past them. Some appearing the same as many adults. And some appearing outwardly Human, or with very little deviation.

He’d enquired. Curious.

Mix-breed children. Remarkable. Loved. But unable to learn everything they could. Forced to wait until they were in their late teens before their first transformation. And the way the Chief stressed the importance of waiting for the Spiritual Leader made him believe it was for good reason.

The Chief brought him to the current Leader. An excitable man who explained, with no prompting, how the children practically needed to put a cap on their emotions. Reminders to calm if too excited. Too stressed. Too angry.

“Shifting can be such a fickle thing. Some change because they sneeze. Some change because they become overjoyed. Each person is different. Each beast is different. And some things that draw out the beast for one may keep the beast at bay for others. It’s difficult keeping an eye on the little ones, but everyone has a little help.”

And Krista? She’d been under so much stress. So many emotions assaulting her.

But where he had expected her to fully transition into a beast form, he was left with something in between. And that is where he knew something was wrong.

Having witnessed the forms that tribe could take, and having dealt with plenty of shifters in his life, he’d never witnessed such an incomplete shift.

The knot at the base of her spine did not extend into a full tail, and instead, she was left with a stump that did little more than twitch from side to side in her sleep. Not even a true bobtail as he'd seen in the tribe.

D softly snapped his fingers above her exposed ear.

Yes, it was now covered in silky black fur. But it sat far too low on her head. Had changed minutely in shape but did not possess the ability to swivel. Merely twitching at the sharp sound.

To his surprise, her face was fairly complete. A bit anthropomorphic, but very cat-like. Her nose sloping down into a slim snout. Eyes, one lined with grey fur that stretched along the path of her stitches, set a bit further apart. No whiskers, but perhaps they were just hidden beneath the fur.

And her hands.

Erembour intently studied with the Hunter, her hands being his current obsession.

They were Human, fingers still petite and slender (despite their increase in size). But covered in more soft fur and little pink pads on the underside. Confusing, but adorable.

Despite everything wrong with the form, they could both say that she made a very gorgeous ‘cat’.

---

It was night before Krista started to rouse. And all D could think was he’d need to catch fresh fish.

The Demon devoured the five fish with little hesitation once he saw Krista would not be waking up before they spoiled. And he’d promptly thrown himself onto his belly at her side. Content and sleepy until Krista bolted upright. Yowling in alarm. Confusion.

For a moment, she forgot where she was. What had happened.

But staring down at her enlarged form, still stiff and sore, made it all come rushing back.

The pain. The terror.

After a moment, she ran her clawed hand through what remained of her crimson hair. Silently wondering if it would grow back and cover more than just the top of her head. Wondering if she’d ever look as she once did, or if she was cursed to look like this for the remainder of her existence.

D crouched before her. “Can you hear alright?”

Her mouth opened, but instead of ‘yeah’, she was embarrassed by the kittenesque ‘mroaw’ that came out. Deeper, but still on the small and squeaky side.

But D seemed to understand nonetheless. “Has your eyesight changed?”

After a long pause with her looking about through (blessedly) both eyes, she shrugged.

“Do you hurt?” Her hand wobbled from side to side before she extended one arm and pointed to the muscle on her bicep. Then her elbow. He nodded, and with a gentle grasp, he said, “Stand with me.”

Good Lord, she looked positively disgusted by the suggestion. However, she still lurched upwards. Standing as tall as possible with her hands clasping D’s. And found herself startled by her increased height, almost able to stare directly into the Hunter’s dark eyes.

Although, she doubted she’d ever be as tall as him.

But it wasn’t so bad.

Rumble-rumble.

D cocked a slim brow at her. Watched as she glanced about in confusion before staring horrified at him. Rubbing her throat.

Big cats don’t purr. At least, most don’t.

Without a word, he studied her legs and feet.

Digitigrade.

Her metatarsals were stretched out. However, standing on just her toes didn’t seem to be bothering her. But slowly, he released his hold on her. Backing away only once she was steady. Slightly hunched, but balanced.

“May I check your bone structure?”

An uncertain nod.

“We don’t have to do anything you are uncomfortable with.”

Relief, but still, she grabbed for his hand and pressed it to her sternum. Closing her eyes and huffing out a soft breath. Because she understood why he wanted to do it. Knew that something must have been a cause for concern with the man.

So instead of denying him, she decided to enjoy the poking and prodding. The soft touch of his fingers as they trailed down her spine. Blessedly avoiding the nub of a tail as he went on to her hips. Feeling of the arch. Tilt. Position.

She was legitimately enjoying it.

In fact, she felt as though she could fall back asleep.

And then, he was carefully manipulating her arms. One hand pressed to her scapula, feeling of how it shifted.

She was purring again.

Alright. She no longer cared. After everything she’d been through, she’d purr if she wanted to. But by the time he was done, she was sore in the back and her hips. Body gradually sagging forward until she was more hunched than before.

“Need to rest?”

She chirped out her affirmation. Stretching out on the forest floor. Writhing a bit as her armor pinched her flesh and restrained her chest. She attempted to reach around and unfasten the straps, just for a bit more breathing room. But whatever was going on with her shoulder blades affected her ability to stretch in such a way.

As such, her fingers could barely catch on the bottom-most strap.

She didn’t need to vocalize more than a discontented huff before D was carefully popping the latches. And with a grateful sigh, she shrugged the armor down. Wriggling against the ground contently.

There she stayed as D finished his examination. Or perhaps it wasn’t an examination. He was walking his fingers down her spine. Gently touching, but some spots just plain hurt. Tender. And he could tell. Although, she wasn’t sure if it was because she possibly reacted or if he could simply feel a difference.

“Deep breath.”

In it went as he situated his hands (thumbs up and touching) on either side of her spine.

“Hold it.”

She did.

In a sharp movement, he pressed down and out and tore the most pathetic yowl from her mouth.

But it hurt good.

He was moving down, her back popping and cracking as he went. And with a bit of maneuvering, her hips were doing the same. And…

Well…

She definitely didn’t feel so sore anymore. Which was incredibly pleasant.

“I don’t believe this form facilitates bipedal movements,” D eventually breathed as he moved one of her legs. “Nor do I believe you can comfortably walk on all fours.”

The look she sent him easily said, ‘Then what the Hell should I do?’

“Try whichever causes you the least discomfort.”

In the dirt, she wrote out an obscene curse.

He didn’t blame her. Everything about the situation, everything about her form, was rather abysmal. So, if she wanted to grouse and pout, he wouldn’t judge her.

There was a moment of silence. Broken only by the steady drip of rain.

A gentle prod.

D watched her finger dig into the dirt. ‘Hungry.’ And with a tip of his head, he headed back towards the stream. Watching her slowly rise to follow. Attempting to walk on all fours. Stumbling. Standing on her hind legs. Lurching about. And eventually, she settled into a slightly hunched posture. Arms folded over her midsection.

She walked a bit like a chicken.

She seemed to realize this. Her lips pulled back in an ugly show of sharp teeth, and she started overemphasizing the bobbing gait. Chirping and yowling her discontent.

“She is a very angry pussy,” Hand whispered.

To this, D could agree.

---

Krista had her fishies.

She’d only managed to fall on her face a dozen times. And only five were due to her childish fit. But she had them. None were caught by her. In fact, she probably hindered D’s ability to hunt them.

But she had them.

And despite her stomach rumbling in anticipation, she couldn’t bring herself to eat them raw.

Back at their camp, she watched D start a small fire. And while he tended to it, he asked her to gut the little fishies.

She wasn’t sure she wanted to.

She already felt bad enough because they were still alive.

Even if they were the ugliest little fishies she’d ever had the pleasure of seeing.

Even if all D heard was a crap ton of meowing, she voiced her displeasure. Wondering if she could cut off their stupid little heads before she gutted them. Wondering if they really needed to be gutted.

Any fussing she’d been doing turned into terrified screeching when one fish fell still. A long, black wormesque creature slithering out of it and onto her.

Yes, it definitely needed to be gutted.

Although, she wondered if they were safe to ingest even after being gutted.

Her nail pierced the fish’s belly and sliced it open. And with little hesitation, she began digging out its innards. Practically crying when more nasties came pouring out of it. Wriggling about on her hands. And if she didn’t know any better, she’d say they were attempting to burrow into her flesh.

Something pinched her hand.

With a panicked yowl, she threw everything into the fire. And it wasn’t until afterwards that she realized she’d stabbed herself with a fishbone.

If she didn’t know any better, she’d say the Hunter looked rather amused.

No. He definitely had that small twinkle in his eyes.

Without another sound, she continued her gutting spree. And balked in horror at all the worms that came spilling out.

If she listened really hard, she could almost hear the little bastards scream as they burned.

Sksksksksks.

D started spearing the cleaned fish as she (what he assumed) chuckled deviously. Listening in delight as the parasites burned. But with a small pop, one of the creatures burst and sprayed her with its juices.

And they were back to her yowling in disgust.

Perhaps the next time they acquired food for her, he’d be a bit pickier. Perhaps it’d be better to find warm-blooded mammals. However, there wasn’t much to do at that moment. And the fish would tide her over.

He angled the fish over the fire and waited. Gingerly turning it after a bit of time. And quickly had to bat at Krista’s reaching hand.

Oh… oh no.

She looked so wounded.

She was giving him the most pathetic look, and he wasn’t sure she was doing it intentionally.

---

Krista was fed.

She wasn’t satisfied, but it was something. And now? Her energy returned with a vengeance.

It was late. Their only source of light being the lantern. But the only way she could describe her current mood was by saying she had the zoomies.

Which left D and Erembour sitting to one side, watching her scramble and flail on all fours from one end of the camp to the other. Her mad running tearing up the ground. Eyes wide and wild as she made tiny little grunting noises.

Too suddenly, she threw herself to a stop in front of them. Chirping. Small tail twitching excitedly behind her. Pupils blown wide.

“What’s up, kid? Cat got your tongue?” Hand joked.

Sksksks.

Her shoulders continued quivering with mirth as she wrote in the soil. ‘Can we play?’

“What’d you have in mind?”

Up her shoulders went with a quiet meow.

Despite her zipping about like a maniac, D seriously doubted that she’d be able to outrun him. But… perhaps if he gave her a head start and a chance to hide?

The bit in him that loved a good hunt rose to the surface as he considered the prospect.

“Oh,” the countenanced carbuncle chuckled. “Feeling hide-and-seek?”

Krista watched raptly as the Hunter, with his arm still resting on his propped knee, held up three fingers. And despite his relaxed posture, the air around him churned. Charged with energy as he said, “Three minutes to run and hide.”

The hair along her back bristled. Had she ever seen the Hunter look so… wolfish?

No.

Not when he circled the tree when they first encountered one another.

Not in the town she fled to.

Not one instance came to mind in which she’d seen this (justifiably terrifying) expression on the man’s face.

That’s not to say he was snarling or frowning, nor was he glaring or grinning. However, something in the way his eyes gleamed in the dim light…

He truly looked like a Hunter.

A predator.

She felt her muscles start to bunch in anticipation as the Hunter lowered one finger and stated, “Two minutes, 50 seconds.”

There was no need for more prompting. Krista turned tail and ran. Muscles straining to give their all for just a moment. But in a matter of seconds, she was speeding across the forest floor with all the zest of a cub. Legs flailing in her excitement.

Strange that being hunted would excite her.

How far should she go, though?

‘Need to do somethin' soon,’ Rhea suddenly whispered into her mind.

Voice wrapping around her thoughts like a thick fog until Krista found herself stumbling. Sprawled out in the dirt as panic, sudden and intense, took hold.

‘Calm down, idiot.’ She sounded so tired, but Krista didn’t care. Just wanted her gone. ‘I’ve barely got the energy to talk. I hate only observin'.’

This did calm her some, but she was wary. Eyeing her left arm with no small amount of trepidation. And slowly, she breathed. Digging her fingers into the earth as she reaffirmed that her body was her own.

If Rhea was truly too weak to do anything at the moment, then… she had no reason to worry.

And she was wasting time.

She needed to hide her scent, and she rolled about in the loose soil and leaves. Her memory suddenly making much more sense as the debris clung to her fur.

A small sniff.

Yup. Smelled like nature.

Now, she proceeded a bit more carefully. Attempting to move swiftly, but without leaving a painfully obvious path for D to follow. Attempting to not thunder about like a drunken behemoth, because hiding her scent would do no good if D could hear her from the campsite.

‘I can’t believe we’re a giant fuckin’ cat.’

She rolled her eyes, continuing to weave around the large trees. Hunting for a suitable hiding spot.

‘Did you get to see the change?’

‘Pfft. Duh. Shit hurt.’

Silence.

She wasn’t sure how long she ran, but she knew that her three minutes were long gone.

Maybe she could hide in the trees.

With this in mind, she scanned the towering plants. Wondering if she could climb well enough to reach the branches. And really, there was only one way to find out.

Her nails sank into the wood with ease. And she could easily say that it was odd that her feet had retractable claws. Strangest feeling ever. But, at least they gripped just as easily.

She was a bit clumsy, but she managed to skitter up the tree in a matter of seconds. Climbing up the branches until she was certain she was fairly well hidden. And with a small huff, she settled in to wait.

---

Contrary to what the girl thought, he’d not been able to hear her after half a minute. Left to listen to the pitter-patter of rain and the soft song of nighttime birds. But once those three minutes were up, D rose to his feet and gestured for Erembour to follow.

He took a deep breath through his nose.

Through the rain, the scent was faint. Fairly reminiscent of puppy paws and sweet flowers.

Wet fur.

Death.

His nose wrinkled and he eyed Erembour, to which the Demon gave him a rather sheepish look in return. With a sigh, he took off into the forest. Following the first scent that hung low in the air.

Sweet. Earthy.

Gone.

He froze, taking a deeper breath.

Her scent was gone. All that surrounded him was the smell of wet, turned earth and the local trees.

Dark eyes glimmered. Searching. Observing the ground as he pivoted on his heel.

There.

He could see the skid marks from where she’d tumbled. Where she’d dug her fingers in. And at the center of it all, the ground was disturbed and wallowed out.

“Clever girl.”

---

Something was wrong.

Krista, with her knees to her chest, gingerly cradled her head in her hands.

The pain had struck like blue lightning. A sharp, throbbing pain that curled around her head and sank into her eyes.

The cave.

She wasn’t sure she was ready to deal with such pain. Not again. And if the pain was a prelude to memories…

‘If it’s okay with you, brain, I’d rather not remember anything right now!’

Another angry throb.

A slow build.

It burns.

Her vision blurred. Twisting and warping until she wasn’t staring at the bark of a tree.

Instead, she stared at an olive-toned man, his eyes like polished emeralds. Auburn hair framing his strong jaw. He grinned broadly, teeth a tad too sharp to look normal. But it was a beautiful smile.

“There you are!”

His voice was warm and deep. It wrapped around her like a blanket and reminded her of home. And softly, he knocked on her noggin.

“Come back to Earth for a minute!”

She blinked owlishly at him. Confused. Eyes watering. “It hurts, Daddy.”

“Oh, I know, baby.” He scooped her up out of her hiding place (a closet, to be exact) and cradled her against his chest. Cupping her cheek as she listened to his heart beat out a steady rhythm. “And it’s hard. When I was your age, I had the same problem.”

“You did?”

“Yup!” His fingers trailed through her hair. Pulling loose tangles and rubbing her scalp. “I was an excitable boy. I can’t imagine how hard it is to contain the emotions of two very different little girls in one very small body.”

“But why does it have to hurt?”

“Your seals just might need a bit of tweaking. That’s all.”

She huffed, digging her fingers into his tunic. “And you think Grandpa can fix it this time?”

“Of course!” He stood now, carrying her through the hall, into the family room, through the kitchen, and out the back door. “Grandpa has been… studying. Very hard. Learning as much as he can. And we’ll go visit him tomorrow.”

“Grandpa’s funny.”

“I know, baby. So, even if he doesn’t know how to fix your seals yet, we’ll still have a nice time. Won’t we?”

Now, Krista gave a small smile. Mumbling a soft affirmation as she pawed at his gently waving tail. Something much softer than the stubble he was currently using to scrub off her skin with as he nuzzled her cheek.

She was laughing. Pushing at his face as his frame rocked with his belly laughs.

It was nice outside. Warm. But then, it was always warm, wasn’t it? Pleasant. Good for their garden.

She wiggled out of her father’s hold. Springing for the fragrant flowers and herbs that blanketed the yard. How her parents kept the plants looking so healthy all year round, she’d never know. But she loved it.

“Can we take Grandpa flowers?”

“I think that sounds wonderful.”

There were so many flowers. And almost every type had an assortment of colors to choose from. So many, in fact, it was daunting.

“What should we pick?”

“Well…” the man huffed, crouching at her side. “I’ll tell you a secret that Grandma and Grandpa taught me.”

Slowly, his large hands covered her eyes.

---

D was still in the midst of tracking Krista when he felt his hair stand on end. Skin prickling in a familiar way.

He didn’t like it.

Erembour froze on the path. Hackles raised as he turned a curious gaze upon the Hunter. “… strong magic.”

At a quicker pace, they pressed on.

---

She couldn’t see.

Couldn’t breathe.

Couldn’t think to tell her body to move any quicker because she needed out of this damn tree!

She was probably over a hundred feet above the ground. Attempting to shimmy her way down because she figured that a 90 foot drop was easier on the body than what she’d been at.

Honestly, neither was good. And she was sure that either would kill her.

However, if she did survive a 90 foot drop…

She hissed as another stabbing pain shot through her skull. Spine tingling. And with a quiet whine, she dug her claws into the wood with as much force as she could muster. Praying to the Gods that she didn’t lose her grip and fall to her death.

Second verse, same as the first.

“There you are!”

---

The Hunter’s skin crawled uncomfortably as he eyed the area. Scanning the trees. Knowing she was near.

Not for the first time, he threw his aura out across the area. And like a type of echolocation, he felt her energy radiate back. High up in a nearby tree. Unmoving.

Worrying.

When he approached the tree and called out to her, he was met with no response.

Not even a little twitch.

With a barely audible sigh, he began his climb. Watching Erembour fly past him with a soft trill to gingerly land on her shoulder.

“… girl.”

She didn’t answer, but sitting on her, he felt wholly unsettled. Feathers fluffing up in agitation. He didn’t need the Hunter to know that a powerful seal was placed upon her mind. But what piqued his interest was its… strangeness.

“… who chained her mind?”

D situated himself at Krista’s back. Holding her steady and to the tree as he coaxed her fingers loose. And quietly, he told the Demon what he knew of Riedikke.

By the end, as they both stood at the bottom of the tree, Erembour found himself wishing that he’d been around to eat the bastard.

He’d have done it slowly. Thoroughly.

---

“Well, I’ll tell you a secret that Grandma and Grandpa taught me.”

Her vision went dark.

“If you listen hard enough, sometimes you can hear the Earth whisper back.”

A giggle bubbled out of her. “Daddy, the Earth can’t talk!”

“Sure it can!”

She was suddenly flying through the air, loud peals of laughter startling the nearby birds as the man tossed her over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes. Bouncing around the garden without ever seeming to trample the plants.

“Mahisuta!”

Everything froze.

“If you flatten the begonias again, we’re going to have words!”

Yes, his feet were precariously close to the white and pink flowers. Although, she wasn’t sure why they were more prone to trampling than any other plant.

“Why is it always the begonias?” he whispered. With his tail ramrod straight and bristled up like an angry cat, the large man carefully navigated away from the flowers. Pulling her small body down until she settled on his hip.

“Daddy?”

“Yes, baby?”

“When will we see Deedee?”

Now, his face screwed up. Eyes drifting to one side. “I don’t rightly know, baby.”

“Will we ever see Deedee again?”

He didn’t answer. She supposed that was all the answer needed.

Mother opened the back door, standing in the shadow of the small porch as she waggled a slab of meat. Unminding of the blood still dripping from it. “Come wash up and tell me how you want this!”

An excited grin spread across both of their faces. Because a recent, successful hunt meant painfully fresh meat. And it was something she dearly looked forward to.

---

D pulled back from Krista as she rubbed at her eyes. Prone on the ground, but calm.

She’d woken up and immediately sought him out. Meowing in a way that conveyed her desire to talk. But frustration mounted once she realized there would be no conversing unless she wanted to write it all in the dirt.

So, the Hunter offered two alternatives. Proffering Hand while explaining what would happen if she did not wish to wait.

Honestly, he hadn’t expected her to be so willing to have the creature delve into her mind. While awake, it could feel very invasive.

But now he knew who the Shifter in the family was.

It did, however, also leave him with something else.

A niggling sense of nostalgia.

Yes, he’d seen the parents before. But now… something just didn’t sit quite right.

Perhaps he’d seen the father in the tribe?

It would make sense.

In fact, it made a lot of sense.

“I believe I’ve met your grandfather.”

She suddenly perked up with a sharp meow. Sitting on her haunches. Waiting.

“It might be wise to pay him a visit.”

Her finger dug into the ground. ‘Still alive?’

“Only one way to find out,” he replied as he stood. Clicking off the lantern. “However, even if he is not, it wouldn’t hurt to visit your tribe.”

“Guess it’s a good thing that we’re already headed to the Southern Continent, eh?” said Hand.

To this, they could all agree.

---

Ash clouded the air.

Blackened her hair and stained her skin.

Skin that warped and twisted into something unrecognizable.

Beneath her, the ocean of blood was still.

But far beneath its glass-like surface, the winged demon still slept.

Far off on the horizon, fires burned.

There was a sound of metal armor shifting. Softly clanking as its wearer drew near.

The Tarnished Knight.

Perhaps a bit more tarnished.

But no less magnificent in appearance.

His adorned head dipped briefly before angling down to watch the glass.

Krista stared at him. Perhaps longer than was necessary. And eventually turned her gaze down. Staring in shock as she realized the winged demon was closer than before.

Still asleep.

But even more threatening than before.

His black-as-pitch armor seeded the blood. Blackening the ocean inch by inch.

Was she perpetuating it?

Feeding it?

A puppet.

… listen.

There was nothing.

… Listen.

Nothing but the voice.

Listen.

Deep. Surrounding.

Consuming.

Listen!

That’s all she could do.

Good dolls do as they’re told.

---

November 14, 13,012

As the morning light filtered through the canopy, Krista found that everything remained the same.

She was still a giant, deformed cat.

Still unable to talk.

Still… everything.

The Hunter was, predictably, already awake. Meticulously grooming the horse as it munched on stray plants. Its metal plates and mane shining beautifully.

The beast had three days in the stables. Being cared for and groomed.

Yet… D had him looking even more magnificent than before.

Perhaps she should ask him to make her fur just as healthy looking.

‘That’d be weird.’

‘But I’d be so pretty!’

Nothing more was said.

She didn’t want to stay in this form forever. But if she could go back, it wasn’t like she knew the secret to getting there. So, until that time, she was stuck. Forced to adapt to her current form.

She groaned. Frustrated.

Hungry.

Again.

However, she didn’t think she could handle the black parasites. Not again.

A loud rumble broke the quiet.

“Damn, kid!” Hand exclaimed. “Hungry already?”

A defeated meow.

“Well, you’ll be glad to know that the stream is filled chock-full of fish!”

A disgusted yowl that dragged on for a solid ten seconds.

And Hand merely guffawed as her hair bristled and she started spitting and hissing. Wholeheartedly voicing her displeasure as she hobbled closer. As D loaded everything up, she dipped a hand into the bag containing her spoils from Fieri. Pulling out the jerky.

She was terribly hungry, but the thought of the merchant instantly put a sour taste in her mouth.

As if reading her mind, D calmly stated, “Fieri will live. He was just in shock.”

It was comforting.

It did not change the fact that she absolutely did not like how the past few days had turned out.

She ran her fingers across her feline face. Glad that her face was healed. That the stitches had popped during the change. But she’d seen her reflection in the water. Had seen the streak of grey marring her face. She’d been too afraid to look close enough to see if her scarred eye was indeed narrowed or if it was just a trick of the water.

With a grunt, she stuffed some of the dried meat into her mouth.

Mmm. Tasty.

In the end, it still didn’t satisfy her. It was just good tasting.

She nudged Erembour. Offering a bit of the meat with a chirp. He ate it, but he didn’t push for more.

She couldn’t blame him.

It wasn’t long after she replaced the meat that D suggested they leave. Carefully tightening the straps on Krista’s armor before hoisting her up into the saddle. Tucking the tiny Demon into his coat. And eventually, after another look over the camp to ensure they’d gathered all of Krista’s currently unwearable clothes, he straddled the saddle and snapped the reigns with a quiet click.

He’d had a moment of insight during the night.

Assuming he’d heard correctly, or rather remembered correctly, there should be no need for them to angle towards the coast. Nor shoot east and cut through the mountains. Instead, they should be able to continue on their current path.

They would deal with the standard hills and plateaus for a while. Nothing they hadn’t dealt with in the desert. And then they would eventually hit a valley to travel through for a while.

It was nothing groundbreaking. They would still need to cross more hilly and mountainous areas. But that was later. And if he could avoid traversing goat trails for a bit longer, he would.

Through the day and into the evening, they traveled. Pushing through the forest and its small hills and rocky paths.

It was peaceful.

And any threats they encountered were easily dispatched by the Hunter.

And the Demon.

And Krista was jealous.

She was kind of wishing she could eat whatever, whenever. Just like Erembour. However…

Hrrrrrrrrrgh.

She wasn’t sure she was prepared to just chow down on a creature that looked like it was covered in slime. Nor that had enough teeth to eat her from the inside out.

Perhaps she wasn’t as jealous as she originally thought.

Surprisingly enough, however, D wanted to stop for the night. Despite having made them travel much longer in one sitting.

If he were honest, it was because he didn’t want to push her. He’d expected her to shift back into her standard form by this point, and the fact that she hadn’t was a tad concerning.

Nothing had changed.

She wasn’t shedding.

Wasn’t talking.

And now that they were settling in for the night, she was stretching much like a feline. Bobbed tail sticking straight up in the air as she let out a tiny squeak with a curl of her tongue. Fingers kneading the ground for a brief moment.

He watched her eventually curl up with a quiet chirp. Fur fluffing as the chilled evening air brushed over her. He would admit that the night was more chilled than the previous night, so as she dozed, he pulled the thermal blanket from the saddlebags and set it down at her side.

Perhaps the next day would be different.

---

November 15, 13,012

It was different.

Much different.

Somehow, despite how light a sleeper he typically was, he, Hand, and Erembour had all managed to sleep through Krista sneaking off into the forest.

Well, D dozed.

But somehow, he did not hear her!

Without a sound, D leapt to his feet and disappeared into the forest. Entrusting the horse to Erembour.

Surely, if she’d escaped without his notice (which was extremely unheard of), she had to be calculating her every move. Which was surprising. And something worth celebrating, in a way.

Not much farther out, he came across a rut much like the one she’d made the day prior. A sure sign that she was purposefully attempting to mask her scent. But surely, she hadn’t wanted to play without his knowledge.

To do such a thing could very well end in disaster.

But he followed her path. Tracing it as it weaved between the trees. Almost deliberate in how it shifted.

Perhaps she’d not been playing.

In fact, it seemed as if she was…

Hunting.

If that were the case, why had she opted to go alone? She was very obviously not confident in her form. So what would drive her to such a thing?

‘Hungry.’

Of course.

She’d been abnormally peckish (famished) the past few days. Even before the change. And with the change, he could understand why. Such a transformation would severely deplete the body’s energy and resources. And if it wasn’t getting what it needed, she wouldn’t be satisfied.

The Hunter tracked her for a solid half hour before he had his first sign of Krista that was more than an errant leaf or scuff mark.

After coming to his conclusion on why she might have left, he was prepared for what he saw. And he knew the girl wasn’t all there when she dipped her head and shoveled a handful of offal into her mouth.

The medium-sized creature was skinned, strips of flesh laid out to one side and belly split open to the sternum. From his spot, he could see that the heart was long gone. And what she currently chewed upon was the liver.

In fact, the only thing truly left by this point was the digestive tract still heavy with freshly eaten grasses. She’d stripped it of all else.

Should he step in? Or let her have her fill?

There was a crack.

She tipped her head back. Working her jaw until another crack broke the silence. And to one side went a handful of skull fragments. Clawed fingertips already working on stripping the muscle from the bones.

He stepped closer.

The hair along her back briefly bristled before settling. A loud rumbling filling the sudden quiet as her hands worked. Allowing him to creep ever closer without another sign of aggression. Continuing her eating as D slowly sat on his haunches at her side.

Was it possible to look innocent with blood dripping down your maw?

Somehow, she was pulling it off. Her pupils large and round as they focused on him. Seeming to smile as she chewed.

Still, there was something distinctly vacant about her gaze. Even if she was happy to see him.

“Seems you’ll need some work on self-control.”

With an inquisitive chirp, her head tipped to one side.

“Krista, it’s time to wake up.”

A slow blink. And gradually, the fog cleared.

Another drawn-out blink as she turned her gaze down. Licking one finger clean.

Sudden realization.

Horror.

Revulsion.

She covered her mouth with a loud retch. Throwing herself back from the mauled creature. Frantically scrubbing her hands in the dirt in an attempt to rid them of blood. Still retching.

But nothing came up.

“Calm yourself.” God help him, he sounded like a broken record.

Her head snapped from side to side and, without looking at him, she held up her forefinger with the back of her hand facing him.

 “If you’re telling me to ‘fuck off’, at least use the correct finger.”

Everything froze.

Tears still left tracks down her feline face, but slowly, she turned the most bewildered look upon the Hunter. Eyeing him as if he were a new creature.

Her dirty hand covered her mouth one more time. Eyes alight with awe. And her panic seemed to fly for the hills.

Sksksksksksks.

D supposed that, if all else failed, baffling her was the thing to do.

But he pulled her up by her shoulders and guided her away from the mess, walking at her side as they wandered back towards their camp.

“You’ve said you aren’t satisfied.”

Warily, she nodded.

“Are you now?”

Her lips pulled back over her teeth, but she still nodded another affirmation.

“Then as much as you may not like it, kid, this may be what you need to do,” said Hand. “At least, sometimes.”

They could see in her eyes that the idea did not please her. Not one bit.

“Would you rather attack Humans?”

Now, she looked affronted. Horrified. Yowling in a way that sounded eerily like a ‘no’.

“You lose control in a town, and that is what will happen.”

She looked truly disturbed now. Thinking long and hard about what they were saying. Her eyes going distant as she frowned the best she could.

It made sense.

Every bit of it.

She still didn’t like it.

But maybe that was more because she did feel satisfied. Once D managed to get her out of the ‘this is so wrong’ mindset with his terribly out-of-character moment, she found that it still bothered her. Not enough to feel physically ill, but enough to not want to do it again.

Then again, she didn’t really want to wake up with Human viscera between her teeth.

She would rather not personally kill period, but she’d rather consciously do it. Be in full control of all her faculties.

She’d rather learn how to hunt from an expert Hunter.

---

The Hunter knew her answer without her saying anything. Could see the resolve in her eyes. And as she roughhoused with an over-sized Erembour, rolling about in the leaflitter with plenty of growls, barks, and chirps, he plotted how to best teach her.

It could be fairly simple. Teach her the way he hunted. Using every resource available. Powers of observation. Sense of smell. Be quick but quiet. And perhaps, much later on, the aural pinging.

He was sure she would also appreciate pointers on how to quickly and painlessly kill whatever she caught.

But should he wait until she was in her normal form to start? Or seize the moment and get her out there now?

What if this became her normal form?

She’d be irate.

It would certainly make communication with her a bit more interesting.

---

November 18, 13,012

It’d been a few days.

Nothing changed.

They’d been making pretty good timing through the redwood forest. But Krista being unable to verbally communicate in a way that was more than chirps and such (while definitely interesting, as he thought) was becoming a bit of a hindrance. And she was, indeed, incredibly irate.

He couldn’t blame her.

She seemed acclimated well enough, but it was obvious she was ready to be who she once was. And she was actively trying to change but had no idea how. Which caused her more distress.

She looked rather consternated.

And constipated.

He would just keep that to himself.

It did not change the fact, however, that neither of them knew how to get her back. As such, they’d agreed that waiting for her to change to learn to hunt at this point was not the smartest idea. Surprisingly, she’d been quick to catch on.

Of course, they’d yet to kill anything, opting to only capture and release. But simply because she had no desire to eat at that time.

If the look now sweeping over her face was anything to go by, that might soon change.

Her finger dug into the soil. ‘Do I have to?’

At his minute nod, she huffed out a sigh and pushed up to her feet. Rolling her shoulders and shaking out her tension. She wasn’t ready, but she was.

She was gonna murder critters good!

---

She was sobbing.

And D was attempting to reason with her.

It wasn’t working.

The creature she’d captured, medium in size and painfully fluffy, sat calmly in her arms as she cradled it. Yowling and keening as she meowed out her reasons for not being able to kill the critter.

How could he get her to understand that creature was much more of a danger than it appeared? That slaughtering for sustenance was sometimes necessary? That it was an invasive species?

But then… what creature in this world wasn’t?

He sighed through his nose. Pulled the white-coated fluffball away from her. And gave her a very pointed stare when it began snarling and snapping at him. Acrid acid dripping from its suddenly fragmented jaw.

 “You must learn to get past this portion of the hunt.”

She looked so heartbroken with her kittenesque eyes wide and watery. Afraid to go in for the kill, but understanding that what he said was rational. Sane. Necessary.

Slowly, she retrieved the creature from D’s grasp. Sobbing openly as it immediately stilled in her arms. Staring up at her with the most trusting expression she’d ever seen. But with a grim sense of finality, she grasped its soft head and neck.

Crack!

---

Skinning and gutting proved harder than she imagined once she was able to get over killing the creature. The eating part came almost too easily.

She kinda hated it.

Rhea was content with everything and seemed to be gaining her strength once more.

Krista really hated it.

Hated the feeling of helplessness that swept in and attempted to drown her like a rogue tide.

Why couldn’t the other just accept that this was her body? Why did she have to be so nasty?

At least, if she requested it, D distracted her from it all with more knowledge and tales from his past.

The only good thing to come of all this.

Too bad she couldn’t tell him more about herself. Or rather, her time spent at the orphanage. Time spent with Miss Haldwyn.

If only she wasn’t a giant fucking cat.

Chapter Text

November 25, 13,012

It happened.

Krista had an epiphany.

This… cat form…

No matter how strange it was, how disfigured or incomplete, it was her.

This form was still her. Just as much her as the other form. And while visually different, there was no true difference in who she was. There was only a need for adaptation, but no need to think she wasn’t who she was before.

Honestly, she wasn’t sure why it took this long for her to understand such a simple concept.

Sure, it’d been a hard pill to swallow that there were more races aside from Human. That she likely was not Human. And while she’d felt rather ‘meh’ about being a cat, something obviously had been sitting at the back of her mind.

Not accepting the form as her own.

Not accepting the form as better than a burden.

But it wasn’t a burden.

An inconvenience at the moment? Yes. Without a doubt. Because being unable to properly communicate bothered her more than anything else.

But Gods help her. She felt so bloody enlightened.

So suddenly at ease.

She whipped about on the horse to express her relief and epiphany when the cramp hit her. The muscles in her back seizing painfully. Feeling like a too-wound spring. So with a careful grasp on the Hunter's knee, she turned forward once more. Shifting this way and that in an attempt to pull out of it.

It was getting worse.

Pulling until she could barely take little gasping breaths that rasped and squeaked in her throat.

The horse stopped in its tracks as D dismounted and circled around to her front. "What's wrong?"

It was happening all over again. Feeling like she was dying and no way to tell him. No way to ask for help or say what she needed.

She reached for him just as her sternum collapsed. Ribs sinking into place and squeezing her lungs with a sickening crack. And the ensuing screech she released was enough to send the creatures occupying the neighboring trees running for the hills.

Her skin felt aflame. The furred flesh dripping in large clumps off her frame.

She wanted to die.

She'd forgotten how painful the first change had been, but she didn't think it'd been this bad. Nor did she think her skin should be sloughing off, but that didn't seem to dissuade it.

Perhaps it wasn't her true skin, but Gods help her. It felt like it was. Her arms quaking and jerking as she attempted to hold herself together.

Melting.

Disintegrating.

She didn't know what to do, and she squeezed her eyes shut.

Terrified.

Hurting.

Truly believing for a moment that she was on the precipice of death.

And D?

He was there. Filling her vision with a calming little rumble.

…

When had he pulled her from the saddle?

Another long blink.

Why did the pain now seem like little more than a passing dream?

With a groan, she pushed herself up. Startled to find that she was very naked. Bundled up in the Hunter's worn coat. Tucked away in a small little hole.

She looked about the area. Spotting D sitting not too far away as he carefully repaired her armor as best as it could be.

It was odd.

She'd been in that feline form for so long that she didn't realize how different everything looked. How grateful she'd be to just see skin.

How touched she'd be to see the Hunter once again fixing her mess.

The leather had certainly seen better days. Between being stabbed and shot, it looked rather pathetic. And while still comfortable, it barely served any purpose. But he must've understood its worth (in some way) to Krista, as he was taking the time to repair the straps that had become strained by the size of her previous form.

She cupped her face in her hands and rubbed. Fingers quickly working through her blessedly full head of hair. 'Bloody Hell. What a mess.'

"Finally awake?"

She didn't look up. Merely croaking out, "How long?" And Gods, did it hurt.

Had she screamed herself raw?

"Not too long," the Hunter replied. "Only a few hours."

"…Erembour?"

"He's out hunting for y'all," said Hand.

Her stomach rolled. "…'s nice, but I don' think I can handle it."

"You'll need to replenish—"

"D, I really don't think I can right now!" she interrupted.

He leveled a calm stare at her. Minutely surprised by her outburst, but not terribly so considering she looked a bit nauseated. However, he did find it odd.

Anytime he'd observed a shift to and fro, the members of the tribe had been voracious. Devouring anything high in nutrients. And just when she needed it most, the thought of eating was literally upsetting her stomach.

Concerning.

He set the armor to one side and fully faced her. "Would you be willing to eat if it was cooked?"

She looked even more off-put than before.

"In your other form?"

A considering look, but still a firm negative.

"The blood?"

Here, her face paled considerably.

Not because it was unappetizing.

Without a word, she laid back down in the little dug-out spot he'd buried her in.

"You can't avoid what you don't like, kid."

"The Hell I can't…" she muttered petulantly. Pulling the coat tighter about her bare body.

After a long stretch of silence (and plenty of frustrated shuffling on her part), she pushed out of her hole and plopped down at D's side. "So… why am I nakey?"

"You have underwear on."

"Yes, but if you're gonna put undies on me, why not just put a shirt on me too?"

"I didn't anticipate you waking before I was finished."

"Fair enough." She leaned in to carefully watch as he worked. Wondering if she'd ever be able to do half the things the Hunter could. Thinking that she was being a bit ungrateful. "Well, thank you for fixing my armor. For as little protection as it gives. And thank you for putting underwear on me?"

She felt a tad weird. Because him putting underwear on her meant he saw her no-no square. Both of them.

Her face flushed.

But… then again, he'd seen her no-no squares plenty by this point. Hadn't he?

She pressed a hand to her side. Then to her sternum. Thinking on their first encounter. Then about the bathroom.

That's right.

Krista still found that night a bit foggy, but she could recall him briefly looking over her southern no-no square.

It didn't bother her as much as she thought it might. In fact… she couldn't say it bothered her at all. As D hadn't done anything to warrant her concern. And anything he'd done that crossed the line (for her) had quickly been rectified.

True, D wasn't a doctor. But again… she'd not had reason to distrust him.

As for everything else Miss Haldwyn told her?

She'd like to stay with him indefinitely. Forever.

'But we don't have forever, do we?'

She loved him?

'Is my love for D the love Miss Haldwyn meant?'

It wasn't like she could ask her.

Maybe it didn't matter much.

Maybe it made all the difference in the world.

Aside from the headache she was giving herself, she found she still didn't mind.

Well… she did mind that she was thinking herself in circles.

"Hey, D?" A light hum in response. "Really. Thank you. For everything."

He looked up at her. Brow cocked. "Something on your mind?"

"Lots. Probably too much."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Krista smiled grimly. Appreciating the offer. Ultimately deciding she still wasn't ready to talk about some things. Because if she didn't talk about it, she could avoid it for a while longer.

Probably not very healthy to do. But it was being done.

"Y'know, it was Miss Haldwyn that actually gave me my armor and dagger thingies." Daggers currently housed in a saddlebag. "I told her I was gonna leave to find help. And I guess she knew I wasn't gonna listen to anything she said."

Here, she paused to laugh dryly. Idly digging her fingers into the flesh of her arm. "I don't know if she already had it or bought it used, but she threw it into my lap and told me to be safe the week before I left. And I put off leaving. Hoping things would get better. And then gave myself a limit once I realized it was only getting worse."

They could both see the empty desks in their minds. The warnings from the teacher (who D now knew to be Miss Haldwyn).

"The daggers? She gave those to me when I first expressed the desire to go out and cut wood. I hadn't seen a reason for it at the time. That area was always creepily quiet. And she always held on to them for me once I got back.

"But when I left, she passed everything over and helped me sneak out in the back of a caravan cart. I hopped out once they turned east. I turned southwest. Immediately got fudged up by the giant sand puppy. And the rest you already know."

There was a long silence as Krista finished. Stretching out at D's side with a huff. Barely covered by the coat, but unable to care. But infinitely thankful that D was listening.

Not in the way she listened, but in his own way.

"Do you think she knew we wouldn't see each other again? Or that those not-dead dead guys wanted me?"

"It's a possibility," he replied as he continued his work.

Another beat of quiet. And in the meekest voice, she asked, "Do you think they found out she helped me out? And that's why they killed her like that?"

To this, he did not answer.

Of course, he didn't need to.

They both knew the answer without it being said.

---

When Erembour popped up and dropped his hunt in her lap, Krista nearly vomited. Swallowing down the bile with a choked-out 'thank you'. And even though she knew it wouldn't help, she cooked it.

Impossibly, she felt even more disgusted than before and gagged harder than she felt was warranted.

So, there she sat. Upset and famished. Unable to watch, much less listen to, Erembour devour the animal.

But she wholeheartedly refused to just slurp up an animal's blood. The idea disgusted her, but not to the point of nausea.

She thought to dig into her stash of pickles.

Another churn and gag.

"No! I love pickles!" she wailed, clenching her belly. "Don't take this away from me!"

But her stomach absolutely rejected the idea.

"You bastard! Let me eat my damn pickles!"

No.

"Cheese!"

No.

"Jerky!"

No~

Oh, Gods save D.

He was about to witness the ugliest tantrum to date from the girl. And all over a damn pickle.

"I'm fixin' to eat dirt, you picky bastard!"

Silence from her stomach.

"Why? Why have you forsaken me?"

There was nothing more to be done.

She would just pout.

Pout as naked as a picked bird in a very comfy coat.

That smelled more like D than the open road.

Krista sniffed and buried her nose in the fabric before declaring with a muffled shout, "You smell nice!"

"So you've said."

Her nose scrunched before she muttered, "Oh yeah. I did say that."

But thinking on what the smell reminded her of still hurt. Along with being a comfort.

To her side, Erembour crunched on a femur and eyed her warily. As if waiting for her to start screaming and shifting. Or begin vomiting.

Whichever came first.

"You can quit looking at me like that, Erembour."

"… I wouldn't look at you like that if you would quit your shit."

"So says the Demon determined to smell like raw sewage."

"Death!" he barked, slinging the hollow bone at her forehead. And when it bounced off with a dull thunk, he snickered and snorted. Snout tucked beneath a large paw.

Thus, he never saw Krista leap to her feet. Dwarfed by the Hunter's coat but wholly prepared to leap onto the Demon's back.

She would have as well.

If only D hadn't snatched up the back of his coat and halted her advance with a soft tug. Even if she did run in place for a solid five seconds.

"No roughhousing until you've eaten."

Harder the Demon snorted. Muzzle wide as he hacked and wheezed.

And Krista went back to her childish pouting. Refusing to relinquish her claim on the coat even once she was handed her armor.

---

November 26, 13,012

It was still dark when Krista crept into the Hunter's space. More than she'd already been. Fingers feathering across his forearm.

"Yes?"

She swallowed thickly, and could feel her skin go clammy as she quietly asked, "Say I wanted to entertain the idea of… drinking blood."

The Hunter shifted from his resting position, eyes gleaming in the dim light as he listened.

"Can I try one of your… supplements?"

Silence.

"Maybe? Never mind?" With a nervous chuckle, she started backing away. Ready to abandon the question altogether because she still refused to hunt down a living animal and drain it dry. Despite the hunger that'd effectively woken her.

However, perhaps D was merely taken aback by the request because he quickly halted her retreat with a raised hand. "Are you certain?"

"Unless you're willin' to donate."

The man in black watched as Krista recoiled as if struck. Eyes pinched closed and left arm held close to her body. But she did not acknowledge the voice. Eventually returning his stare with eyes that were not nearly green enough.

After a moment, he reached for a tin mug and filled it with water from the canteen. Briefly heating it with the lamp before dropping one of the vermillion capsules into its churning waters. Another moment later and he was passing it to the girl patiently waiting.

She did not appear very enthused.

In fact, the longer she stared at the concoction, the more her eyes narrowed and her nose wrinkled.

"Dammit… I wanted this," she muttered venomously.

Down the liquid went with plenty of grimacing and urpy faces.

"Gods dammit!"

Now, he observed her as she rinsed out the cup and drank down the watery remnants. Throwing it into the saddlebag with a snarl.

"Quit making me want shit, tummy!"

---

The hunger was not abating. And she wasn't about to do as she wanted.

Especially not when her stomach felt as though it was attempting to flee her body.

Plus, she didn't feel like making a mess of her pretty teal shirt.

"D?"

He glanced up from the path they were traversing and halted the steed. Inclining his head.

"I hate to be a hindrance, but my stomach is very unhappy. Can we stop in a minute?"

"Of course."

They'd been traveling for little over an hour, but he could see in her face just how miserable she was. And despite the feeding, her eyes were pitifully dull. Nearly greyed out.

Worse than they'd been before.

At the end of the path, Krista hunched over. Quietly gasping as she clutched at her stomach. She felt nauseated (big surprise there), but not enough to warrant asking for space.

But she did feel very much like a burden.

Overdramatic shift into kitty form that delayed their travels? Check.

Needing to have clothes specially made which ultimately delayed their journey? Check.

Getting absolutely fucked up or sick every few minutes? Uh-check!

"Sorry I keep putting a damper on our travels," she murmured towards D. "I think I'm more trouble than I'm worth."

"You're not."

"Kind of you to say, even though you're lying!"

The Hunter crouched before her, face unreadable as Hand groaned, "Sure, you could eat through less medical supplies!"

"Thank you."

D looked precariously close to an out-of-character eyeroll, but still said nothing. Instead, he pressed his hands to Krista's stomach. Gently kneading with his thumbs. "You're a bit bloated."

"But why?!" She agitatedly shook her hand at the pouch containing his supplements. Hissing, "It's just dried blood! What the Hell can even upset my stomach?!"

"Intolerance." He briefly ran his knuckles across her forehead. "There is more than simply dehydrated plasma in the capsules. Nutritional supplements and the like."

"It still shouldn't bother me! Not with all the crap I've eaten!"

"And yet, it must be."

With an obnoxiously loud groan, Krista slumped against the nearest tree. "I will kill and eat! Not grab and suck!"

Hand snickered. "I bet guys would love if you'd grab and – hurgh!"

D clenched his left hand into a fist. Possibly tighter than needed. But he'd not have the creature corrupting her. Not in such a crass manner. "We will need to find some source of nutrition for you."

"I know." Now, she sighed heavily. Eyes watering as her frustration built.

Frustrated with the situation.

Frustrated with herself.

Wishing she could simply go back to devouring raw meat and viscera because it made more sense than just blood.

Could she just will her stomach into accepting the dried capsules? Into accepting whatever was in it that was upsetting it?

'Is my life falling apart?'

'Nah. You're just bein' a little bitch.'

She did not reply. Warily looking back to D.

'You're not gonna be able to ignore me forever.'

The Hell she couldn't.

'I'm here to stay. And if I have my way, you'll be put in the backseat.'

A prisoner to her own body.

She was already halfway there.

'You don't deserve what you have.'

This was something she knew well.

'You aren't worth his time.'

Probably not.

'Givin' up would just be easier.'

Maybe so.

A sense of victory that wasn't her own swelled within her. But it was quickly drowned out by her surge of determination. Because as easy as it would be to roll over and let Rhea have her way, she wasn't quite ready to give up.

Not yet.

Krista scrubbed at her eyes. Telling herself that things would get better.

Perhaps they would get worse first.

But all things had to get better in the end.

---

The edge leading into the valley, while still being fairly hilly, was indeed a more enjoyable trek.

The land was pretty (and terribly overgrown) with a spattering of redwoods that reached for the heavens. And while it was a very peaceful area, she felt rather unsettled.

As it was, it was middle of the night.

Total silence, as nothing wanted to be within the vicinity of the Hunter's aura.

But she couldn't sleep. Her mind would not allow it.

In fact, her mind would let her do little more than wallow in self-pity and worry about things not in her control.

Slowly, she eyed D as he 'slept' against the tree. Tamping down her spiking anxiety.

'Just go to sleep and you'll stop thinking.'

Her eyes closed.

Darkness.

"Don't worry, dear. If you'll relax, this won't be so bad."

Her eyes snapped open. And she was able to still feel the phantom fingers wound through her hair. Too tight.

Perhaps, had her hair been shorter, she could have pulled free.

But then again, she wasn't sure why she was seeing scenes of that nature every time she closed her eyes. Not when the remembrance bothered her, but at the same time, she didn't feel particularly troubled.

What a strange thing.

She honestly felt more troubled by her interactions with Rhea. But something had to have stuck with her if she was having these issues.

Or… perhaps Rhea was somehow forcing the thoughts to the surface.

…

Nah…

Quietly, she told herself to quit thinking about what happened. Idly continuing to run her fingers through her hair as she cast D another sidelong glance. Catching his gaze and wondering if she'd somehow woken him.

'Heart.'

That would make the most sense. If her heart was racing, he might be able to hear the uptick. And even though they were both awake, she wanted to wait until morning to bother him.

---

Sleep didn't come.

Once the world was dyed in the soft hues of twilight, Krista was on her feet. Stomach cramping and growling. Attempting to gnaw a hole in itself as she dusted herself off and waddled into the Hunter's space.

He was just starting to rise when she held out a slim hand. "What is it?"

"This is probably gonna sound silly, but I want to know if you can and will cut my hair."

"I can."

"It might not be too pretty, but he can do it!" Hand teased.

To this, D said nothing. He dipped a hand into the nearest saddlebag and pulled out a leaf-shaped knife, gesturing for her to sit. "What engendered this decision?"

"Remember when I cut my hair in the middle of the night and woke you up with my screaming?"

He hummed out a soft yes as she sat before the stump and stripped off her shirt and cloak.

"Well, I kinda wanted it short. Wanted something easier to manage. And I kinda want that now. But I also kinda want… less grabbable hair."

Ah.

He took his seat at her back. Brushing out the long tresses with his fingers. Knowing now that this was likely the cause of her distress throughout the night.

"I don't necessarily want it shaved off. But less for someone to tangle their fingers in. Please."

And as he continued to work loose the tangles, she feathered her fingertips across the scar left behind on her face. A scar that was beginning to fade, but would likely never leave.

He didn't bring any of it up. Merely continued his combing and allowed Krista to lean into his touch. Teasing the wavy locks of crimson hair in an attempt to see just how curly it would become without the weight on it.

"Before you ask, I'm just gonna trust your judgement on this one. I don't know how short I want it."

Well, here was to hoping he didn't disappoint.

He angled the blade and began cutting away the long strands. Painting the ground crimson as he worked.

Could he recreate some of the shorter styles he'd seen in the tribe? Or would it be wiser to stick to something a bit more… poofy?

Hmm… best stick to what was simple. When they visited the tribe, she was free to decide if she'd like such a cut. For now, he cut until her gentle curls could frame her jaw. No more than chin length. Just long enough for her to tie back if she desired to do so.

To the side, Erembour muttered a soft 'cute'. Because once done, she looked a bit more childlike.

Maybe it would help keep her out of the minds of men.

… most men.

However, Krista was overjoyed with the cut. Using the horse's shiny plating as a makeshift mirror before leaping at him with a shrill squeal and many thanks. Clinging to his neck as if he'd presented her with an expensive gift rather than an acceptable haircut.

And gently, oh so gently, as she squished her face to his sternum and nuzzled him with a happy little trill, he patted her back with one hand.

Idly wondering how they'd come to this.

---

November 30, 13,012

In the valley sprawled a thriving city. Teeming with people and plants of all types.

Well protected despite its lack of walls.

Relying entirely upon the stability of a weather controller and a few at-the-ready barriers.

But it was bright and pretty (if not a bit congested) in Krista's eyes as they entered the outskirts. A far cry from the dingy browns and plain woods of Puregon. And even the last town they'd come from.

The horse looked more than happy to shuffle into the town stables. Prancing and hopping as he was corralled into the stall. And Erembour hunkered down within the man's coat. Content to keep up the ruse that he did not exist.

D passed the boy tending the stalls, possibly no older than fifteen, a handful of coins. Quietly inquiring about the location of an inn.

"Well… which one ya want, Mister?" the boy asked in turn. Sweeping the mop of chocolate colored hair out of his equally brown eyes. "We've got a few."

"Which would you recommend?"

He looked them up and down. Rubbing his nose after a moment before declaring with a broad smile, "I think the one that's five blocks south, then two east."

"Thank you."

"No problem, Mister!"

The Hunter led the way out of the stables while Krista essentially rubbernecked. Not-so-subtly staring at the teenager as they left. And only once they were outside and down the street a bit, not surrounded by possible eavesdroppers, the girl spoke.

"He wasn't Human."

"He wasn't."

"Another Dhampir?"

"I believe so."

As they walked, he could see the confusion written on her face. The wonderment.

"I think he's the first one I've ever seen and could tell."

He hefted the saddle and bags higher onto his shoulder. "What made you aware?"

Silence, and after a long moment, she shrugged. "Smell? This… weird prickly sensation on the back of my head?"

Their destination was coming into view. A multi-storied building that was just as pretty as the rest of the city. Surrounded by shops that she didn't know the purpose of. And people from all walks of life.

Her skin felt electrified. And she was beginning to think there was a reason the boy suggested this particular inn.

Opening the door to the inn, Krista lost her breath. Momentarily assaulted by the different smells. Different senses. Chest too tight as her mind attempted to make sense of what she was receiving.

And at the center of it all?

Blood.

With a gasp, she dipped under D's arm and back into the street. Scared to go in.

Scared to stay outside.

But her hunger had reared its ugly little head so quickly and so violently, she wasn't sure what more to do. Hearing D warn her that if she didn't eat, she'd lose herself to her hunger.

And here she was.

Cowering outside a tavern like a child.

Starving.

Because she childishly refused to drain the life from an animal.

'Please go back to liking raw meat, picky belly. Please.'

No~

---

"Your friend Human, Hunter?"

D did not answer as he paid for their room. Signing his simple name on the log as the man eyed him for far longer than necessary.

"Don't get me wrong," the innkeeper started. "Anyone of any creed is welcome here, but you know that every race has its bad eggs. With the way your friend just ran out at the sight of us, some might not take too kindly to that."

"I highly doubt her reaction was to anyone in here."

"How can you be certain?"

The very topic of their conversation suddenly sprang up at the Hunter's side. Breathing a bit too heavily as she held the man's previously worn scarf to her face. When she'd grabbed it (or come in for that matter) was a mystery to him.

"Feeling better?" D asked.

In response, her nose scrunched. And she let out a slow, hissing breath. "Depends on if this smell is gonna follow us upstairs."

The innkeeper glanced about. Eyeing the scattered Beastfolk as he wondered just how brazen the girl could be. But he'd be damned if this random Human would be allowed to walk in and start shitting all over his regulars!

"Now see here." He leaned across the bar and bared his teeth at Krista. Momentarily rethinking his decision to confront her when the Hunter's aura spiked in warning. Ultimately, he ignored it. "I won't stand for you walking in here and speaking lowly of my customers!" he hissed.

Krista recoiled. Perplexed. "What are you talking about?"

"You ran out as soon as you saw us. You're sneering over the smell. And I'm willing to let any race stay, but not if they're going to degrade my people!"

Silence.

Gingerly, as if afraid to anger the man by simply moving, Krista turned her head to D. "D? Did I do something wrong?"

"No."

"The Hell she didn't!"

Now, the Hunter's eyes narrowed upon the man. "Krista."

"Yeah?"

"Explain to our host what exactly is bothering you."

With a speed that surprised the man, Krista snapped an arm around and pointed at a table occupied by a few different people. A couple of Dhampirs. A Shifter. And a Fishman. And just when he felt his cheeks flush with renewed anger, she blurted out, "The blood."

The wind was suddenly out of his sails. "You're bothered by the blood."

"The smell," she affirmed. "My hunger's been a bit out of control. And I wasn't expecting to smell so much of it. So, I'm really hoping that once we're in our room, I won't smell it."

His dark cheeks warmed. And he felt like he'd made quite the ass of himself.

---

Their future meals were being compensated. And half the price of their room was reimbursed.

As Krista flopped down on the bed, she wondered if she needed to monitor her words a bit more closely. Or if people needed to assume less.

However, she was more thankful for the lack of smells permeating the room. Thankful that it merely smelled like clean linens and soft-scented flowers.

It was nice.

D disappeared into the bathroom.

She'd declined the offer to go first (despite how utterly wonderful a bath or shower sounded). Needing a moment to simply be. And gather her strength to bathe Erembour. Unless he was willing to bathe himself.

"Erembour?"

"… yeah?"

"Do I need to scrub off your sewage smell, or are you willing to do it yourself?"

The Demon released an affronted yowl and leapt onto the bed. Slapping at her with his large paws while making the most enraged dog noises she'd ever heard. Tongue out and bared teeth chomping at the air.

She could only wheeze and shove at his muzzle. Praying to the Gods that be that he wasn't about to eat her face off.

---

The Demon opted to bathe himself. Sashaying into the waiting room before changing with a pop and waving out the cracked door at her with a black-as-pitch hand. Practically taunting her.

To her side, D settled on the bed. "Are you willing to try the food here?"

"Hmm… maybe."

Without another word, he tipped her head until she looked at him. Staring into the pitifully grey eyes. "You're troubled."

"Always."

He was quiet. Patient. Using his silence as an invitation for her to talk.

It worked. And it was appreciated.

"I think I'm being too sensitive. Like everything is affecting me more than it should."

"Feeling overwhelmed isn't wrong."

"Maybe not, but I'm crying over food. Crying over dreams. Crying over everything in my head. And I hate it. And it all seems so small and petty because I'm so bloody hungry, but I refuse to eat! Like some child!"

He could see the tears building now. Streaking across the bridge of her nose and down her cheek. "I don't believe your feelings are unjustified." When her lips parted (no doubt with a rebuttal poised on the tip of her tongue), he held up his hand.

"For at least ten years of your life, you've eaten like a Human. And suddenly, you are denied this. Your favorite foods no longer an option."

"My pickles…" she breathed.

"And now, you must eat things you've been raised to never ingest."

"This isn't helping…"

They stared at each other for a moment in silence.

"But I do understand and appreciate what you're saying…" She patted her belly. Looking a tad brighter as she said, "It's a big change. And there's no saying it'll be this way forever. I just feel childish for feeling like this. Petty, because there are people who've suffered more than my sorry self. Who've had to eat like this their entire lives."

This he could understand.

"And if I'm not upset over eating, I'm bothered by my dreams. And if I'm not upset over my dreams, I'm bothered by every other little inconvenience." Her speech was speeding up. Eyes wide and imploring. "And I think everything is just compounding into a big mess in my head and it's making me think too much about things I think I'm over and things I pray will never happen and no matter how hard I try to stop the thinking my brain just goes back to the beginning and my brain gets sad!"

Well… that was certainly a bit of insight into her mind and why she'd been so troubled.

"Kid," said Hand. "Once the hound comes out, I think you should take a very long bath. Maybe with bubbles."

---

That's exactly what she did.

She dropped into the water and practically melted. Dipping below the mountain of bubbles that had formed. Becoming one with the bubbles.

'I am the bubble.'

Strange how she felt better already.

'Don't relax too much.'

Krista lurched and gasped. Unintentionally sucking in a lungful of her bubbly water. And when she sat up, hacking and sputtering, the voice was silent.

Playing dirty.

And all those anxieties came flooding back. Swarming her mind like angry hornets.

"Fuck this noise."

And down below the water she went. Hoping to drown her troubles for just a bit longer.

---

From across the tavern, Krista watched as D spoke to the innkeeper. The man staring at the Hunter as if he couldn't comprehend what was being asked of him. And she ran her fingertips through the Demon's fur as they waited. Wondering.

When he came back to the table, Krista (voice muffled by his scarf) was quick to ask. "What were you talking to him about?"

"I was listening to rumors and news. Inquiring about his current stock."

"Anything?"

"There are rumors that a town to the south was ravaged. But no solid proof." He crossed his arms and legs. "It might be worth looking into."

"Sounds… fun. How far south?"

"Quite a ways. Likely a few weeks travel." At her nod, he moved on to the next topic. "As for his stock, he only has powdered supplements."

Her head dropped to the table with a hollow thud. "I'm willing to try anything to get rid of this hunger. I will suffer with stomach pains."

"It's not worth it, kid." Hand looked up at her from under the edge of the table. Beady eyes narrowed and lips turned down. "By the time your body recovers, you'll have used up whatever you managed to absorb."

"Well… shit."

The sounds of the busy tavern filled their moment of quiet.

"But maybe if I drink more!"

"No," D answered. "It will make you sick."

"I've got to try something!"

---

Krista hovered over the toilet and released the most pitiful moan. "Why did you let me do that?"

"You were warned."

"I know! But I had hoped the severity would stay the same."

"That's not how bodies work."

This was something she knew now.

---

Blood.

It would be a recurring theme, it seemed.

She didn't like it. Fingers digging into her arms.

It was spreading across the worn wood.

Staining everything it touched.

Sinking between the boards.

But what was the source?

Her eyes rolled upwards.

Fingers. Dark and slim. Limp.

Up.

Slender arms. Marred by gashes to the bone.

Up…

Face twisted and disfigured.

But eyes untouched.

A clear night sky contained.

A pale woman kneeled down into her field of view. Her nails sinking into the soft flesh surrounding the man's eyes.

"Show me their position, love."

What was left of the man's mouth gaped. A gurgling rasp filling the room.

"If you can't find him, find the girl. Wherever she is, he will be close by."

Silence.

Soft popping.

"Good job, love."

And then, her fingers pushed in. Digging out the silent man's eyes.

Krista snapped away. Staring at the room.

Horrified.

So many bodies.

All in the same state as the first.

But all retaining their eyes.

Eyes that were hazy. Burned from the inside and glassed over.

"It took a few too many failures than I would like. But we have them in our sights."

A decidedly wicked smile curved her painted lips.

"I can't wait to try my luck on the Hunter."

---

December 01, 13,012

Krista lurched away from D and his warmth with a startled gasp. Tipping over the edge of the bed. Squealing and flailing until she flopped against the floor. And even quicker, she was on her feet. Pouncing on the Hunter with a frantic noise.

"Yes?" he calmly asked. Watching, amused, as she slapped at his chest and ordered him to move.

"Bitches be crazy and we gotta go!"

Slowly, too slowly, he rose from the bed.

It was still dark out. World quiet.

"What did you dream?"

She spewed out the basic details as she struggled to pull her pants on. Not thinking that anything she said was less than true.

It'd been too vivid. Too real.

And only when D caught her by the shoulders did she slow down. Staring up at the man. Terrified. And in those dim eyes, he could see just how the dream affected her.

Much the same as the Puregon dream did. And if that was the case, they would leave as soon as they had their supplies.

Perhaps they could find her something to eat.

---

The city was blessedly friendly to the Non-Humans. The shops they'd seen and visited (briefly thanks to Krista's decision to drink all the supplements) catered almost exclusively to supernatural races. Selling supplements. Substitutes. Vegetarian. Vegan.

It was honestly amazing.

Krista was almost sad they couldn't stay.

But she knew they needed to leave.

While in the shop D had chosen to refill his capsule supply, she found herself asking others why the town was so inclusive. How their city worked.

Simply? The town was rebuilt by Non-Humans. Traded well with neighboring Humans. And slowly, both came to live side-by-side. They had their own districts for travelers to easily find what they needed, but neither was banned from the other.

They obviously had their bad eggs. Nothing was perfect. But they were happy. Protected. And made sure very few were left wanting at the end of the day.

"You could always stay," said the woman sorting capsules. Her pale hands gloved. "We could use the help. Always need guards."

"Perhaps someday."

She thinks that even D agreed.

---

In the end, they left the city without anything she could for certain eat. There had been a few people to offer to feed her. However…

She just couldn't do it. And she was confident that they would figure something out for her.

At least D had himself stocked.

After the offers, she could maybe see why D did not take from people. Not unless it was perhaps a dire situation.

It was scary.

So many things ran through her mind as someone heard them asking around and came over. Arm proffered.

It was tempting. So very tempting.

But there had been a pit that formed in her stomach. Telling her that there might not be any going back from such a thing.

And… she didn't want to feel guilty or judge herself.

Or have D judge her.

It was… still frustrating.

D could see her frustrations. Could feel how conflicted she was. Worried.

He didn't blame her for how she felt.

But he was sure she wouldn't be pleased with what he would say later.

---

December 12, 13,012

He was correct.

She was far from pleased. In fact, she was downright pissed. Spitting and squawking as she stared at the creature in her hands.

"You need to eat."

"I've gone longer!"

"Yes, and now it's catching up with you."

"What do you mean?!"

He guided her over to the stream.

It was calm. Clear.

Reflective.

Staring back at her was a woman she hardly recognized. Cheeks gaunt and eyes sunken. Hair dull and brittle in appearance.

Of course, she'd been ingesting the occasional capsule. Some D thought to have her try while still in that town. But, as he was sure they would, they all had the same effect. And in the end, any nutrients she was provided were quickly burned up.

The creature in her arms squirmed restlessly as she stood. Frozen.

"It'd be a shame if your end came from lack of nutrition after all you've been through."

The vision before her blurred, and she sniffled pitifully. "You sayin' you like me?"

And she cast him the most cat-ate-the-canary smile he'd seen to date. Her tears detracting very little from the expression. "Eat," he commanded softly.

Her grin brightened. Even as she ugly cried and wrapped her hands about the animal's neck and head.

Crack!

Unable to bring herself to waste the blood, Krista did not skin the creature before attempting to bite it. Because skinning would mean loss of blood. Cooling of blood.

And her first bite attempt proved to be rather pathetic.

"D, I don't know how I'm supposed to do this."

Crouched before her, he merely tapped at his sharper-than-average canines.

Her confusion was almost a tangible object hanging in the air. "And if I don't have sharp teefs?"

"Bite really hard."

She let out a sharp bark of laughter before trying just that. Her jaw locking up before damage could be done.

"In life, most things, if not all things, are driven by intent. Influenced by intent."

"So, I need to tell myself I'm gonna do it? And believe it?"

He nodded. And just as he was about to ask if she wanted some privacy, he saw her determination flare. The flash of fangs.

And then she was squealing and holding a hand to her mouth. "What the Hell?!"

"It's no different from what happened after Fieri was shot."

"Bullshit!" she exclaimed as she rubbed her face. "My me was already hurting so much that I didn't feel that! Nor did I know it happened at all!"

"Well, use them while you can, kid. Fuck around too long and you'll be back at square one," Hand advised.

Krista looked downright horrified at the thought.

---

She was going to have a hairy tongue for days.

For. Days.

After she'd drained the creature's blood, she skinned it and forced herself to eat some of its flesh and innards. Because Erembour had devoured his own catch and wasn't hungry. And she absolutely refused to waste an egregious amount.

She only felt like gagging a few times before deciding that she would eat it.

For some reason, eating came a bit easier after that.

That was something she would need to keep in mind from then on.

It was all about intent.

---

If everything was about intent, why couldn't she figure out how to change into a cat?

Granted, she wasn't sure she wanted to. It'd been so painful. Shifting to and from (even if she couldn't recall shifting back to her Human self). However, it'd still be nice to know.

For future reference, of course.

But it wasn't working.

Not even a little bit.

'I am the cat!'

Nothing.

Nothing aside from her blood pressure rising. So, she was sure she looked constipated.

"Erembour!"

His head snapped up from the ground. Fur flattened on the side of his face he'd been laying on. Tongue poking out. "… hur?"

"How do you change?"

He gave a slow, lazy blink before grunting and shrugging. "… fuck if I know."

"Well you've gotta have some idea!"

Down his head went. "Nope…"

Just as D was walking back into the camp, Krista rounded on him. Finger pointed almost threateningly. "D! I need advice!"

The man did not look up as he set down his catch and succinctly murmured, "I cannot shift, so no. I cannot tell you."

"Dammit!"

---

D could see her strength returning. Could see the life filling her as she continued to drink and eat. Crimson curls healthy and bouncy as she pranced about ahead of the horse.

Overall, he didn't think she'd ever looked this well-off.

Her skin had darkened. More closely resembling Mahisuta's from her memory. But still pale in its own way.

And her eyes. They were so terribly vibrant.

He was pleased to see her look so well.

It was just too bad that it caused her more worry.

He understood.

The healthier Krista was, the healthier Rhea would become.

And thus, she had more sleepless nights. Nights with her staring blankly at the eastern horizon. Nights with her pressed against his side. Bundled up in her cloak with Erembour.

With any luck, he might be able to help her with her anxieties by training her body and her mind. Preparing her for the fight they could both feel brewing.

It was only a matter of time.

For the moment, they needed to prepare for what they would find in the town.

It rose before them. Too dark for the early morning hour. Too quiet.

At such an hour, typically the farmers and ranchers would be out and about. Tending to their fields and animals with many a yawn and plenty of coffee and tea. Bundled up to fight off the chill.

Instead? Nothing.

No lanterns dotting the land. No guards posted on its outskirts.

And for Krista, it looked like Puregon. A stark reminder that things could go sideways in places and ways no one ever expects.

It was almost like walking into a nightmare.

Deeper into the town they trekked.

Nothing.

The town was barely 2 miles long. And every inch of it was devoid of life.

Krista didn't want to stay any longer. But without complaint, she followed him into the open houses.

Dead women.

Dead children.

The occasional man.

Rather, some of them were little more than educated guesses. They were so decayed that it was hard to tell. And Krista stared at each one. Choking back her terror and disgust until all that remained was a deep sadness and rage.

But even in the local store and tavern, there was no sign of the remaining populace.

They were just… gone.

"They've been taken elsewhere."

They didn't like it. Not one bit.

"… dark forces at work with this one," Erembour remarked as he prowled the streets in a form as large as the horse. Very unsettled and on the offensive.

"Anything you recognize?" asked D.

"… no." And that possibly disturbed him more.

Perhaps he shouldn't have decided to tag along with this lot. As nice as the girl was, she was a danger magnet. Yes, he had fun with her. Thought she was rather endearing. But when he came to the surface, drama was one thing he'd been hoping to escape.

Yet, here he was. Smack dab in the middle of it with these travelers.

"… I'm beginning to think it's a hazard being around you."

"You're free to leave as you will."

Unconsciously, his eyes flickered over to the girl treading silently along to gauge her reaction. Subtly taking in her worryingly blank features. The tense draw of her lips and shoulders.

What she thought shouldn't affect him. Shouldn't bother him.

But it did.

Even with the Hunter, he wondered how he would feel if he left.

"… perhaps another time."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her shoulders relax just the slightest bit.

What they thought shouldn't affect him.

Perhaps coming above was a mistake in itself.

---

They had no leads, and thus, they continued on their path. And the towns along their path were just as terrifyingly devoid of life. And only one contained the scene Krista had seen in her dream.

In all of their minds (save Erembour's) they could hear Riedikke laughing that everything requires a blood sacrifice.

It was worrying. Even for the Hunter, because he had no way of knowing if the two were related or just how far the killing would go. Instead, he started preparing Krista for what might come. Sparring with her daily and telling her where she could improve.

And over the next week and a half, she did improve. Not grandly, but it was still something he was pleased to see.

---

December 27, 13,012 - Evening

They finally wandered across a town that was not empty. Beautifully populated if not dreadfully brown.  But the group welcomed the sight. Happy to see that not every town would be a graveyard.

In fact, aside from the drab coloring, the town was fairly lively. People milling about and shouting at one another. Children screeching and skittering from one end of town to the other.

It was pleasant.

As the sun dipped low on the horizon, they pushed into the local tavern. Through the wall of acrid smoke and into a booth that allowed D line of sight to the door and stairs. And then Krista was left with the Demon.

Something that was becoming a bit of a routine.

She didn't mind snagging a room. But she knew that she was not near as proficient as D in gathering information. Nor was she good at catching what patrons were saying. Not when she was too busy salivating over the pending shower (even if she'd taken a bath in a stream earlier that day).

Once she had her water and a steak ordered for Erembour, she felt a chill crawl up her spine. The unpleasant kind that makes one want to flee for the hills.

She looked about the room.

Nothing.

Her fingers pressed against Erembour's side.

In the end, she need not say anything. "… something's here," he grumbled. And with a sharp grunt, he nosed further into her cloak.

She felt so bloody protected.

Once D was back with little news, the Demon crawled into his hand and warned the Hunter, who calmly stated that he was well aware. He was not the type to shy from confrontation, but he did not necessarily wish to invite it.

There likely wasn't much choice. Whoever had their eyes on them would probably attempt to catch them unawares. And if they could feign such a thing, it would be their adversary in such a position.

Under his breath, D said as much to his companions, and they agreed that it was a sound idea.

They continued without much deviation. Krista eating a few bites of the steak with Erembour just to keep up the ruse.

"Hello, dear. My name is Bella."

Krista jerked at the syrupy voice and turned to stare at the stranger. Eyes wide.

It was the voice.

The one from her dream.

And dear Gods, the woman was beautiful.

She'd never seen much more than her hands in the dream. But now, here in the tavern, she could see everything. Full, cherry-red lips that gently curved into a smile. Round eyes that looked like swirling pools of clear blue water.

The woman leaned over the table, ebony hair spilling over her shoulder.

Krista felt like she was falling. World shifting about her as she stared into the woman's eyes and whispered her name back.

If asked, she might do anything this woman requested.

Without thinking, she grasped blindly for D's hand. Feeling like she was drowning as the woman asked her for a drink. "I already have a drink, thank you."

"Oh, come now. Live a little!" she sang. "You don't seem to be the Dhampir's mate, so why not entertain me for a bit?"

That word: mate.

Strange.

"I don't know how to entertain. Not unless you want me to do a handstand."

Now, her lips dipped down just the slightest bit. "Oh, you poor dear. You've never been on a date!" She stood and held out a hand. Waiting expectantly as she said, "Come with me for a bit! It won't hurt for you to live a little."

Krista could feel the pull of her words. Her panic flaring just a bit. Wondering why D was not intervening. And just as quickly, it was tamped down. Falling to the wayside as that soft rumble filled her. So soft. It was more vibration than sound.

While the woman didn't appear to hear or feel it, Krista could. Her hand momentarily feeling as if a breeze passed over it.

She appreciated the small gesture more than he could ever imagine.

With such a small thing, she felt calm. Unafraid. Trusting D when she looked to him for guidance and he gestured for her to follow.

With any luck, the woman would feel nothing was amiss.

Carefully, Krista slipped her small hand into the woman's.

It immediately felt wrong.

Features lifted by a small smile she didn't quite feel, she followed the taller woman across to the bar. Unsure of what she should do (besides admire her tight black dress and heels), but willing to help in any way she could.

"What's your poison, love?"

Krista nearly choked on her own spit as she pulled herself into a stool. Momentarily thinking she was legit about to die before her brain suggested that she might be speaking of beverages. "Um… water."

"Don't drink?" She sounded genuinely surprised.

"Smells bad, so no."

"Maybe you simply haven't found the right drink?"

"Maybe," she agreed.

Without another word, Bella ordered them both a drink and leaned on the bar. Turned just enough to look at Krista with a charming smile. "Perhaps a nice drink in your belly will relax you a bit."

"I'm not sure. Do I look tense?"

"Oh, very!" Bella leaned in, brows drawn in concern. "You look like you've not slept well in a few days. And forgive me for poking my nose where it doesn't belong, but I figure a good time would do you well."

"Well… thank you."

A drink was sat before her. A pretty pink color. Swirling and glimmering and looking more like a decoration than anything else.

Of course, she could smell the alcohol from where she was. And… something else.

She feigned a small sip. Allowing the liquid to wash over her tongue and back into the glass.

"What do you think?"

All she could taste was the alcohol and that something else.

"Nice," she lied with a smile. "But I can't help but wonder why you chose me when there are so many other people in the tavern."

"As I said, you looked in need of a good time." Here, she gave Krista a rather peculiar smile. "Good looks never hurt anything either."

Honestly, Krista didn't know what to say to that. So instead, she turned her head away with a smile. Because smiles were safe, right?

Whatever the case, it worked.

Bella's smile brightened as she stood. Hands running down her front a bit too slowly as she smoothed her dress. "You finish up your drink while I freshen up in the restroom. Then, we'll really have some fun."

Krista pressed the edge of the glass to her lips as she watched Bella walk away. Feigning another sip when the bartender looked her over. Because for once, she was thinking logically. Knowing that if something was in the drink, tainting it, the man who'd made it would have been watching.

D was suddenly at the other end of the bar. Calling for the man's attention.

And blessedly, there was a spittoon at her side.

She'd never felt so good with wasting something in her life. But she left just the barest amount to 'drink' under his watchful gaze.

When Bella came back, she seemed more than pleased to see the glass near empty. But this time, Krista could not feign drinking. Not when she was watching so closely.

Up went the glass and down went the poison as Bella immediately asked, "Have you ever been with a female before?"

She tried not to choke. "Well, I've been with lots of girls. I lived in an orphanage."

The way the woman's face twisted made Krista wonder if she answered incorrectly.

"You've never been on a date, and yet you've been with a number of girls?"

"Yeah, but I don't see what the two have to do with each other."

Understanding dawned on Bella's face. "Oh!" And a laugh that was sweet and quiet fled her lips. "Oh, you sweet thing! That's not at all what I meant!"

Krista had no idea what she meant then. Unable to hide the confusion from her face as the woman continued to giggle. When she eventually calmed, she gently grabbed up Krista's hand and leaned in.

More confusion. Slow realization. And just before their lips could meet, Krista whipped her head to one side. Restraining her instinct to scrub at her cheek when Bella pressed her sugary kiss there.

"Aw, shy type, huh?" she cooed. Sweet smelling breath wafting across her flesh. "Don't you fret, love. We'll take it slow, and I'll show you a wonderful new world."

Her heart pounded in her chest. Too fast and too hard. And she felt… icky. Panicked.

Dirty.

Her mind immediately went to places she'd rather not revisit.

'Why?'

"Nervous? Just look into my eyes and know that all will be okay."

Krista did. Eyes finding hers. Falling into those turbulent waters.

Nothing happened.

"Come, love."

She didn't want to. But she did. Trailing after Bella, pale faced and anxiety riddled. Hand in hand.

Up the stairs, down the hall, and to the door at the end. And in her eyes, it didn't look anything like the rest of the doors. It was beginning to look like a portal to Hell.

A death sentence.

Inside the room, it was rather plain. Pristine.

Not at all resembling how it felt.

Bella circled around her and ushered her in. Shutting the door with her foot before guiding her to the bed. Sitting Krista on the edge.

Why did she feel trapped despite how open the room was?

And…

"Why is the floor moving?"

"Oh, don't worry about that, love. It's probably just the alcohol giving you a bit of a buzz."

Krista scrunched her nose. Felt decidedly ill. And… good Gods. What was she even doing here?

A hand suddenly pressed against her sternum. And Krista jerked at the touch.

Soft.

Warm.

Pleasant.

Something she wanted more of.

Not from her.

"Just look into my eyes and know that all is well."

Why was she so warm?

Where the hell was D?

Her fingers pressed against Bella's chest as the woman straddled her hips. Intending to push her back.

Too weak.

Too warm.

Breath too fast and too heavy.

Wanting more of her soft touch as her fingers feathered across her cheeks and down her neck.

…

No.

Not her.

Krista's hand snapped up and clasped about Bella's throat. Squeezing without the force she wished for (something Bella seemed to greatly enjoy).

…

When had Bella disrobed to her underwear?

And when had she laid down and allowed her shirt to come off?

Why was time slipping away?

"That's right, love. Just relax."

'Fuck you.'

Bella pulled back. Pretty eyes wide in alarm. "What was that, love?"

Had she said that aloud?

Well, best say it again for those in the back.

"Fuck you!"

The woman's eyes narrowed dangerously. Those beautiful things darkening like a stormy sea. "Do you need a lesson on bedroom etiquette?"

That powerful fury washed over Krista. Flooded her limbs and cleared her mind. Her skin bristling and darkening. Bones cracking as she pushed back against Bella.

And now, Bella looked worried. Angry. "You've been influenced this entire time! You've been mine! What's changed?!"

"I'm not yours!" she snarled, face aching. Teeth hurting as they shifted. But for just a moment, she welcomed the pain. And while she understood that anger was not a good means-to-an-end, she needed it now.

Needed the strength it pumped into her as she tightened her grasp on the woman's throat and tossed her to the floor.

Despite that surge of strength, however, she still found herself struggling to coordinate her limbs. Momentarily flopping back against the bed before she could roll over and shakily push herself onto all fours.

"My Gods! What the fuck?!"

An understandable reaction to seeing a previously small woman start swelling in size with many a bone pop.

And then, she spotted the one person in the world that she did want. Aura dark and turbulent. Coat spattered with blood. Blade drawn.

A beautiful sight to behold.

Bella looked over her shoulder at the Hunter and paled in horror. Whispering, almost to herself, "But she isn't your mate…" Then louder, "I had her!"

D released a small puff of air as he moved to Krista. Laying his hand over her head. "Perhaps you were able to influence her sexuality, but you never 'had' her."

"That's impossible!" Bella lurched to her feet, unbothered by her lack of dress as she threw out a hand and argued, "Once I charm someone, they are mine until I say they aren't! And the only times that doesn't apply is when their will is too strong, they have a mate, or their sexuality does not include me!"

"Perhaps you underestimated her strength." Bella looked so terribly angry at the Hunter. And he moved closer to her. Cornering her. "I assume you were the one behind the ghost towns?"

She didn't answer. Eyes flickering between the advancing man in black and the girl looking more bestial than Human. The girl still struggling to stand, but she didn't look any less threatening.

She had a fairly simple job.

Why was she now looking at the end of her life?

"What would you take in turn for my life?"

"Answers."

"I'll tell you anything you want."

The tip of his sword came to rest on the carpeted floor. No longer presenting imminent danger, but not completely ruling out the possibility. "Who hired you?"

"The Council, but I've never seen them. I don't know who they are. They had a third party reach out and contact me."

She looked so sincere in her answer.

"What were your orders?"

"To use my abilities on the girl, if possible, and take out the Dhampir Hunter." She laughed darkly and pushed back her hair. "Neither worked out in my favor."

"To achieve your task, you emptied a few of the neighboring towns of those you could charm to amass a small army. Is that correct?"

"Not all of them came here. Some were shipped off to the south."

"And those you charm," D started, advancing once more. "If you release them, can they return to their former lives?"

"Unfortunately, no. Their only true release at this stage is death. Otherwise, they are but puppets."

"I see." Now, D had the unfortunate privilege of deciding if she was lying or being truthful. Whether her death would cause more problems, or possibly restore the people still 'alive'. "Release them."

"As you wish," she murmured. "Although it won't do any good."

After a moment, the distant sounds of fighting ceased. All was quiet. And Erembour could be heard plodding up the stairs. Paws landing heavily. Moving until his frame filled the door and all that could be seen was the glow of six violet eyes.

"I did not account for a Demon in your party."

She sounded so dumbfounded. And Krista started laughing. Hysterically. Wheezing as she snarked in a voice that was too rough, "Guess there's a lot you didn't know, huh."

"So it would seem."

"You knew enough to drug her."

Leaden silence as Erembour turned and treaded back down the hall.

"I… did," she answered haltingly. "However, she is no worse for wear."

D towered above her. Voice dark and low as he finally said, "You intended to rape her."

"Yes, well… Sometimes a tantric ritual is in order to replenish my energy. Even if rushed."

From the bed, Krista murmured, "Have beds always been like marshmallows? I can't get up."

"Krista, close your eyes."

"Okay."

And as she sank into the bed, D hilted his blade in the woman's chest. Watching as her mouth gaped, eyes wide in surprise.

"I thought you would… let me live."

"I merely asked for answers. For the lives you ended, so too must yours."

Blood painted her lips. But still, she smiled. Greying skin withering and crumbling from her shrinking frame. Her beauty and stolen youth literally disintegrating. "Tell me, Dhampir. How many lives has that blade of yours ended?"

"It doesn't matter," Krista groaned. "Not when you compare innocents to fiends… like you."

"Hmm… Touché."

And she was gone. Little more than a pile of ash at the Hunter's feet.

He turned after taking a moment to wipe off his sword and gather the shirt that lie discarded on the floor. Helping Krista to her feet. Glad he'd managed to arrive before much could be done.

It was reckless to send her in alone.

He regretted that decision.

But she'd fought. Forcing on a partial shift with her rage.

He normally wouldn't condone such a thing, but in this case, considering the fact that she didn't yet know how to bring about a more natural transformation, he felt a small spark of… pride?

She used what she knew would work in a shitty situation and he couldn't blame her.

His poor decision had landed her there.

"You did well."

She looked up at him and smiled as best she could. Practically glowing from the small bit of praise.

"I apologize for letting this happen."

"Heeeeyyy…" Her head sagged before snapping back up. "I kinda agreed to go with it. So… I don't blame you."

"It does not excuse your current state."

"Fair enough." She allowed him to usher her into a nearby room. Happy and at ease. "But you did look very nice when you popped up. Very… protective."

A sweet musk wrapped around them. And while D recognized it as arousal, he knew that she wasn't in her right mind. Recognized that it wasn't Rhea influencing this. And almost couldn't wait for the drug to work its way through her system.

He'd dipped his finger into her near-empty glass before all Hell broke loose to identify what had been put into it. And the only thing that kept him from being affected in the same way was his higher tolerance and metabolism.

But he was able to tell from the short rush that it was engineered specifically to affect people of the supernatural persuasion.

As he settled her on the bed, he noted that she was reverting. Grimacing. But otherwise, she seemed far from bothered by the pain. Her eyes trailing over him. And when he stood to leave, she snatched up his coat and tugged.

"Where're you goin'?"

He set her shirt at her side. Carefully patting her clingy hand. "There's quite the mess in the bar and out on the streets."

"Really?"

He hummed a soft affirmation. "Not everyone in the town was under her influence. I'd like to see if those that were could recover with her death."

"Can't I come?" Despite the lack of emotion he displayed, she could see the uncertainty in his eyes. "Please? I don't wanna be alone."

How could he say no?

Chapter Text

December 27, 13,012 - Midnight

Everything was indeed a mess.

Blood painted the floor of the bar in large swaths. And Krista counted at least a dozen men.

At first, she wasn’t sure how she was deaf to such a large fight. But… hmm… it might have been because she was a bit preoccupied.

And if she hadn’t felt ill before, she certainly did now. Questioning her decision to follow the Hunter down. However, she was here. And she needed to see. Needed to be assured that Bella’s death was… not unacceptable.

She’d wanted her to die. But she still needed the affirmation.

The floor swam beneath her. Spinning.

Multiplying.

“Do you need to go back?”

She turned to eye D. Tempted to say yes, but… Well. Everyone knows that curiosity killed the cat. So, lips drawn tight, she shook her head and kept her hold on his arm.

It was a bit of an excuse to just be near him and touch him, because he was warm and cool. Soft but firm. An utter delight to her fingertips.

But she was honestly having trouble keeping her balance.

Stepping out into the streets was little better.

Bodies were scattered about like discarded trash. And a few stood motionless. Eyes lifeless as they stared blankly ahead. Who they once were… gone.

It was as distressing as it was depressing.

D approached one. Pressing his left hand to the person’s forehead.

Silence.

Eventually, D pulled back and cast Krista a soft look.

“Anything?”

He shook his head.

“That bitch.”

So many lives lost.

And Krista felt like it was all her fault.

With no small amount of sadness and guilt, the red head watched as D pulled out a stiletto dagger and drove it through the man’s ear. And with a quiet gasp, he crumpled to the ground.

If she had to describe the sound, it was much like a sigh of relief.

---

D continued much the same way with each static person. Searching for any sign of life and finding none. Attempting to command a few, but with no results.

There were a few. People who seemed to be shaking themselves awake. Looking about in terror before realization set in.

Very few.

Scattered amongst the crowd.

Sobbing.

Broken.

It was nice to see a few survived.

But any joy she had at such a thing was quickly stamped out.

Smothered by the soul crushing despair she felt at seeing the tiny body prone in the road.

Not moving.

Not breathing.

Mother at their side.

Hands still laced in death.

Bile bubbled up in her throat. And she felt like she was in a dream. Wishing to wake, but knowing it was pointless.

They pressed on.

And D did not object when Krista clutched his arm just a bit too tightly.

---

Erembour met up with them. Fur dripping with something that was not blood, but Krista couldn’t give it a name.

It almost looked like oil. But it did not stain the ground. Evaporating almost instantaneously.

She needed to feel it.

It was… soft. But also… intangible.

Something her addled brain was having trouble understanding.

“… how’re you holding up?” Erembour asked at length.

“I’m holding on to D.” A small pause as her brow furrowed. “Wait…” Realization. “That’s not what you meant. I’m… okay. I suppose.”

Erembour sent her a look that clearly showed his disbelief. But he said nothing. And she thought nothing of it because she was enamored with the texture of his hair. One hand still clasped to D’s arm, but the other was running up and down his back. Her hazy green eyes narrowed in with a catlike intensity.

“Krista.”

She started with a gasp. Straightening and looking about as if she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

She made no comment and instead asked, “What’ve you been doing, Erembour?”

Slowly, the Demon looked off to one side. As if ashamed. And eventually he murmured, “… collection duty.”

“What do you collect?”

“… Souls.”

“Do you eat them?”

Now, he looked affronted. “No!”

“Then I don’t see why you’re acting like it’s a crime.”

Erembour huffed. “… I do not enjoy the work. But if another does not show up immediately… I’m driven by instinct to do it. For many here… it was not their time. They fight.”

“I’m sorry.”

“… not your place to be.”

“But I am.”

They had a brief stare-off. Neither saying a word. But it was over quickly when Krista squeezed her eyes shut and teetered forward. And then D was guiding her back to the tavern.

She didn’t know if they’d gotten all of the people. But she reasoned that they were not going to search every house. Would not be as capable of handling the dead as those who lived in the town.

It’s all your fault.

---

The owner of the tavern was among the living. Staring in horror and disbelief at the downstairs area.

Krista didn’t blame him. She simply felt guilty.

As they passed, the Hunter handed him a bill larger than anything she’d ever seen. More than enough to pay for repairs to the scuffed and stained wood. But they didn’t wait to hear the man’s baffled and profuse gratitude. Nor his muffled screeching when Erembour followed.

Considering they didn’t hear him shouting for help, she assumed the man realized the Demon was with them.

And Gods help her, she just wished the floor would quit crawling.

Wished that D would keep touching her.

“D? Are you gonna leave?”

“No.”

“Okay.” She flopped onto the bed with a sigh. Listening to the door latch with her eyes closed. Feeling the bed dip as Erembour crawled into the bed at her back and D settled at her front.

Out of the chill, she felt the alien warmth building again. And feeling every bit of the soft comforter and Erembour’s fur against her sounded heavenly.

Before she could think better of it, she was pulling and kicking off her clothes. Deaf to any protests Erembour grunted. Deaf to D gently attempting to dissuade her.

And once she was stripped of her clothes, she attempted to unfasten her armor. Fingers fumbling with the clasps and protesting when D smacked at her hands. But it felt like being splashed with cold water when he said, “What about your no-no squares?”

“Oh…” She turned to look at D. “Well… you’ve seen them before.”

The bottom straps fell loose, and D was attempting to refasten them as her hands moved on.

“I love you. But I can’t ask Miss Haldwyn if my love is the love she meant.”

The next straps were finished.

She didn’t seem to notice D was undoing all her hard work.

“And I’d like to be around you for… forever.”

Now, she was unhooking the metal breastplates.

D determinedly restrained her hands at this point. Shifting her until he could latch the first plate back into place.

“Considering all that, I don’t see why it matters.”

A slow revelation.

“Unless you don’t want it?”

The Hunter sighed through his nose with his eyes closed. Eventually leveling another gentle look at the girl beneath him. Her eyes wide in confusion. Horror. Shame.

“You aren’t thinking clearly,” he eventually breathed.

“I should think I am!” She struggled against his hold. Pushing against his hips with her bare feet. “And it isn’t fair that you can hold both of my wrists in one hand!”

“Krista.”

He hadn’t yelled.

Hadn’t even raised his voice.

But the way he’d stressed her name was enough to still her in her spot. Staring at him in wonder.

And there came the soft scent of arousal.

Again.

“… for fuck’s sake, girl.”

She whipped about to eye the Demon. “What?”

But he did not respond. Shaking his head with a snort.

Instead, D guided her vision back to him and reiterated, “You’re not thinking clearly.”

“Why are you saying that?!”

“Because it is the truth.”

“I was thinking about this shit back when I came out of my cat form and woke up nakey!”

Silence.

The Hunter seemed to blink a bit harder than normal, but perhaps she was imagining things.

“So maybe I’m bein’ a little weird right now. But my thoughts then can’t be given the same excuse.”

To this, he could say nothing. But he could tell her, “Go to sleep.”

“I’m not tired. And you’re avoiding the issue.”

“I am.”

Another stare-off.

“You have pretty eyes.”

D thought he might mimic Erembour and his vulgar exclamation. But he refrained. Releasing his hold on her wrists after a moment.

 “I’m getting out of this armor and you can’t stop me!”

---

He had stopped her.

After much fussing and struggling, of course.

In the end, she settled with curling up to D. Face buried in his side. Fingers buried in the Demon’s fur since his head rested on her hip. And with her other hand, she thumbed the back of D’s hand.

If she couldn’t simply undress to be more comfortable and feel everything the way she wanted to, she was gonna feel them somehow.

Now, she was attempting to sleep.

Struggling, because everything felt so wonderful. So intriguing. Interesting.

And if she wasn’t distracted by everything she could feel, she was distracted by the way the colors in the room looked. How the light from the window played on D’s skin. The way the dust danced like fireflies.

She just wanted to look at everything.

Feel everything.

And the walls were crawling again. Spinning. Twisting.

Collapsing in on itself.

“Oh, fuck me.”

That was something she’d rather not see.

She pinched her eyes shut and moaned. Shuddering roughly as she smoothed her thumb over D’s hand.

Softly.

Then harder as she attempted to affirm that everything was alright.

Her stomach churned.

She moaned louder and clutched at D’s hand.

“Please.” Rubbing her face into his coat, she prayed. “Please, don’t die.”

---

D listened in silence as she quietly pleaded. Murmuring herself into a fitful sleep from which she awoke often. Jerking at the Demon’s slightest shift.

Come morning, she was no longer under the drug’s influence.

But she did feel like death warmed over.

“D, I think I’m dying.”

“You’re not.” As she curled under the blanket, he gingerly uncovered her face. Watching her hiss and draw away. “Does your head hurt?”

“Yes. And my eyes. And stomach.” She patted his hand. “It’s okay. I’ll see you in the afterlife.”

“I highly doubt we would make it to the same one.”

This time, she flapped her hand. “That’s stupid to think. You’re a good man. And I’m a… good girl.”

She didn’t sound so certain.

“Come on,” he coaxed. “Otherwise, your breakfast will… spoil.”

“My breakfast?”

She sat up to eye the very-alive critter in his hands. Wondering how it was in threat of spoiling. Wondering how he’d snuck it past the innkeeper. But then she noticed the breeze coming through the cracked window. How the bed really wasn’t that warm.

“Oh… Thank you. Will it help with all this?”

“Perhaps.”

She was game. Fingers gently coaxing the cute animal out of his grasp. “This animal looks more like a pet, less like food.” But fingering its fuzzy little lips, she could feel the different segments to its jaw. The spines lining each segment.

The soft burn of its acidic saliva.

She squished its face. “Can’t y’all just learn to be nice?”

It chittered and squeaked in response.

“We find a baby one, I demand we attempt to domesticate it.”

“I highly doubt that will work.”

“I can try.”

Yes. He supposed she certainly could.

---

The meal helped.

Headache gone and body feeling better overall. With a stretch and a groan, she circled about the Hunter. Gently squeezing his forearm. “Thanks for taking care of me. I’ll try to stop getting into so much trouble.”

In response, D shook his head. “You did good last night.”

“I got angry.”

“And I don’t blame you.” When her mouth worked as she attempted to argue, D stood from the saddlebags and said, “We will find a way for you to shift in a healthy manner. Last night, you had little choice.”

“Maybe so.” She angled towards the bathroom before stopping. “D, I stand by what I said last night. But thanks for not letting me embarrass myself too much.”

And without waiting for a response, she dipped into the bathroom to take care of business and bathe. Eyeing the clothes she’d snagged previously. Ensuring she had indeed grabbed a clean pair of undies.

Because something was… off.

Very off.

She pinched her thighs together and shuddered roughly at the alien feeling.

Without another moment to spare, she threw herself onto the toilet. Determined to pee and wipe away whatever was there.

And as she prepared to do just that, she eyed the crotch of her underwear. Perplexed.

Worried.

Staring at the moisture that shined in the light as if it could reveal its secrets.

She’d not peed herself. And to the touch, it was slick. Coating her fingertip.

Her concern intensified.

“D?” she called. Still staring down at her underwear.

“Yes?”

“I’m leaking!”

Quiet, and she heard him draw closer to the door. “Leaking?”

“Yes! Leaking!” A pause. “Am I dying?”

“Are you wanting me to look?”

“Maybe…”

“Are you decent?”

“I’m just sitting on the toilet.”

Unless she was seeing things, she could have sworn the door opened the slightest bit, closed, and finally opened enough to allow the Hunter entrance. As if he were uncertain. But by expression alone, she couldn’t tell.

He did not come closer than the doorframe. “Where are you leaking from, and what color is it?”

“Well… I’m not sure. My no-no square, because it’s on my undies. And it’s clear. I just don’t know what it is, or… why it is.”

She looked up at him. Eyes wide and concerned. Waiting. Trusting, just like the night prior. And while his left arm shook with Hand’s mirth, D was at a bit of a loss.

Had she honestly never experienced discharge?

“Hand! This isn’t funny!” she suddenly cried. “It’s like slug slime! But it’s all over my no-no square! It ain’t natural!”

And just when she was preparing to stand, D approached her and pressed his hand to her shoulder. His eyes never straying from her face. “It’s discharge. And it is normal.”

“How do you know?! You haven’t even looked!”

Oh, here came the urge to sigh and/or roll his eyes.

“Based off what you have described, it is fine. Or would you rather see a doctor?”

Now, under his piercing stare, she pinched her legs tighter together. Attempting to pull down her shirt. “No!” A quiet pause. “Please just look? You don’t have to look at my no-no square, but please just make sure it looks normal. Because it’s slime. And I don’t typically slime.”

And slowly, the underwear rose to the edge of his vision.

Now, D did softly sigh through his nose. Loosely gripping the edge of the plain underwear. Vision narrowing on the center.

There was…

Hmm…

A little excessive, but normal.

And he said as much on his way back out the door, depositing her underwear in the sink.

“The Hell do you mean by ‘excessive’?!”

But the door was shut, and he answered no more.

She figured that was the Hunter’s way of saying, ‘Shut up and bathe. You’re fine.’

---

Krista was pleased by how easily the substance washed away. She’d thought to discover the source herself. However…

She couldn’t gather the courage.

That entire part of herself was an alien place.

Something she didn’t much care for. But she’d never explored the area. And she was practically afraid to.

What if something wasn’t normal?

And then she wondered how different each individual’s was.

How different D’s was.

Did everyone in the world have similar no-no squares?

Her brain was hurting. And considering she’d never really looked at her own no-no square, she couldn’t even imagine it on another person.

Much less what would cause it to randomly leak.

---

Riding out of town was possibly more depressing than their walk through the night prior. The horse navigating around the bodies of the deceased that were lined up with the houses or shops they owned.

She still felt at fault.

But she also knew that nothing she did directly caused their end.

She wasn’t the one who turned them into husks.

She wasn’t the one who said she needed to be captured.

She was… just the reason other people said such things and did such things.

---

Sparring was going about as well as could be expected.

Which wasn’t very well when the trainee was running on fumes.

Burning the candle at both ends, so to speak.

Periods of sleep came in fits and bursts. In part because sleep did not come. In part because she was terrified of what she might dream. Of what she might see or think.

It wasn't a good situation.

Not in the least.

Not when she knew she needed the rest to keep up with what the Hunter expected of her.

And in the periods she could sleep… she wasn't seeing just those men in the bathroom. She was seeing Bella. Seeing everything that bothered her that she didn't think should but still managed to keep her up at night.

She just wished she knew why.

But what bothered her most?

Something she didn’t know how to stop.

---

January 18, 13,013

“Hey, D?”

The Hunter looked down at her from his perch in the tree he’d decided was a good vantage point. Saying nothing, but letting her know he was listening. Observing the way she dug at her arm and briefly wondering if she contracted a parasite. But remembering quickly that this was simply a nervous tick.

Although, he wouldn’t be surprised if it was a parasite considering the region they were in.

And yes, she was entirely too nervous. Fingers digging into that spot as if ripping it open could release her burgeoning anxieties.

She swallowed. Throat feeling swollen and dry. “D, I think I’d like to talk to you about what’s been bothering me.”

He was down the tree before she could even finish her sentence. Not necessarily looking expectant, but… at least as if he’d been waiting on this conversation.

Perhaps he had.

Her stomach felt aflutter.

And as if it was twisting itself into a complicated knot.

“Hold up. I’m gonna sit.”

She flopped down right where she was. Holding herself and taking deeper breaths than were probably warranted.

Maybe she was just making a little thing big, right?

But again… telling him would mean admitting it. Which meant it was a thing.

“Okay! So, you remember when we were on the roundabout after I freaked out and said I was just thinking too much?”

“Of course.”

She watched as he squatted before her, feet completely against the ground. And for just a moment, her chaotic mind wondered how he was able to do it. “I was definitely thinking too much, but I definitely had something that started it. And you’ll probably think I’m panicking over nothing or that I’m crazy.”

“I highly doubt it.”

Dryly, she snorted in amusement. Eyes closing tightly. “I think… y’all’re gonna die.” She wanted to vomit. The lump in her throat swelling almost faster than she could force the words out. “Or… life as you know it is gonna end.”

Silence.

Her eyes flickered up. Briefly. Afraid to see what he thought.

He looked… well…

She couldn’t really name the emotion in his eyes.

“Kid,” started Hand. “There isn’t much that could kill us for good. Unless you want to blast us with a nuke.”

“It doesn’t have to be heart-ceases-to-beat death. Could just be an end to living.”

“Isn’t that essentially the same thing?”

“No!” Her face scrunched up. Brows down and eyes watering. “People in comas can still have heartbeats.”

D settled before her and curled one leg beneath him. “What makes you believe we will die?”

Now, her eyes flickered up and gave him the most unnerving stare to date. Pupils contracting into slits as she scanned his face. And he could admit he’d never seen such a look on her face.

As if she were attempting to dissect his Soul.

“It’s a mark. Dark. Dull. Gently churning.” She reached forward and feathered her fingers across his forehead. Massaging as if she could erase what he couldn’t see. “But I think about when you might die, and once I get close, it flares with (ironically) life. Swirling and collapsing in on itself.”

He said nothing. Merely listening and allowing her to rub at the spot.

“And I’m terrified that there’s nothing I can do to stop it. Or that it’s all in my head because I haven’t seen shit like this since I was… a preteen.” And the way she breathed this made her sound so horribly downtrodden.

The Hunter wouldn’t lie. He was intrigued. She seemed so sure. So terrified. “Why do you think it is a death sentence?”

“Because! The last times I saw it, it was!”

“Then tell me about them.”

She did. Describing every time she’d ever seen the mark.

Every person.

Every death.

There were no more than a handful. But it had been enough to keep her from wondering about a person’s death ever again.

Especially when she realized that she couldn’t predict what would bring about the end.

Sickness.

Another’s actions.

Consequences of their actions.

And the only thing she could think of that would help him avoid ‘death’ was to drop the job altogether.

“Yeah, that’s not happening, kid.”

She stared at the mark before snapping away. As if burned. “Why?”

“In too deep. Innocents are dying and being shipped off.”

“I kinda feel at fault.”

“None of this is your fault, kid. It’s likely we would have run across this mess at some point.”

She looked to the Demon. Eyes pained. “Please.”

D ignored the quiet plea. Succinctly saying, “A person’s fate is not always set in stone.”

“I hope you’re right.”

And if she could, she would sure as Hell find a way to avoid their ‘death’.

---

Krista found sleep coming easier.

Less fitful.

She wasn’t entirely sure how, but she was sure talking with D had helped.

They’d sat beneath that tree for a while as D allowed Krista to vomit out her thoughts. What had been keeping her up at night. Listening to the whys.

And they’d sat for a little while longer while D explained that it wasn’t unreasonable for her to be bothered by the events. That she’d been attacked in ways that were bound to scar anyone.

She wasn’t sure why she’d not been traumatized as much by their night in Puregon. But she chalked it up to brains brain weird.

She was thankful, however, as she really didn’t want to see more of that night.

Didn’t ever want to revisit Miss Haldwyn’s gaping visage.

But she wouldn’t think of that now. Not when she was too busy attempting to skate on mud.

Because why not?

D was continuing to guide them through the more moist regions on their trek to the next continent. And she had to admit that it was much more enjoyable than a trek through the desert. Although, hills and mountains abound. So, there wasn’t any escaping that aspect.

But at the very least, it was pretty.

And humid.

And chilly.

But only in the early mornings.

Then it was just comfortable to warm.

But at that very moment, it was perfect weather for stripping down to her armor to slip and slide about.

She’d yet to figure out how to push through a change that was healthy and not rage fueled. But quickly posing a query to Erembour, he was more than happy to roughhouse.

After he’d shifted into something a bit more appropriate (a fuzzy humanoid that’d garnered an obnoxious laugh), she had her ass handed to her.

She blamed it on a lack of kitty prowess.

But it ended with her finding the perfect patch of slick mud.

Tada!

Skating time.

From his moss-covered perch, D merely watched as she flew from one side to the other. Dark, greyish mud painting her slim body.

He wasn’t entirely sure how she planned on washing off. The rain was a mere mist. And the area they were currently in did not have a source of water for her to take a dip in. Things he was sure she didn’t account for before deciding to play in such a way.

He asked.

“Well, that’s easy! I’ll just…” Her eyes looked past the line of trees. Taking note that the rain was not conducive to rinsing off. And she sniffed. Brows furrowing in consternation. “Well… fuck! D! Why didn’t you stop me?!”

“I figured you knew.”

Even from where she stood, she could see the gleam of amusement in the Hunter’s eyes. “Don’t look at me like that, D! Or so help me, I will use you as a towel!”

“You will not.”

“The Hell I won’t!”

And without more warning, she was thundering across the small distance. Eyes wide and wild as she lunged for him. Missing when he stepped to one side and coming back up with a mouthful of wet earth.

He watched as she sputtered and laughed. Slicking back her hair before jumping to her feet. “We’ll need to work on your ambush tactics.”

She lunged at him again, this time at a considerably slower rate. Limbs draining of strength as she continued her cackling.

“Perhaps your stamina, as well.”

Another failed attempt as he danced out of her way with a quiet, albeit amused, hum.

“Shush!” the girl squealed. “I need to hate you for a minute!”

He said nothing.

Did nothing but watch as she floundered in the mud and wheezed. Attempting to crawl towards him. Failing horribly.

And then, she froze. Shuddering roughly before the most excited smile crossed her face.

D felt the change in her. Felt the shift in her mood and energy as her pupils shrank in that catlike way. And after a quick glance towards the horse, ensuring the beast was tethered to the tree, he took off. Flying across the rocky and muddy terrain.

He wasn’t sure if she was merely reenergized, or if she’d found her way. Preparing to push through her first shift that was not fueled by rage.

Either way, it was exciting. Prompting him to speculate what she might do. If he should simply attempt to outrun her. Or if he should attempt to hide.

How would she approach the situation?

If she did shift, would it hurt her?

Or had she ingested enough recently that it would somehow help? Give her the resources needed to foster a painless shift?

These were questions he, of course, did not have the answer to.

He slowed to a stop and listened.

In the distance, he heard the soft thumps of her footfalls.

All four of them.

Funny.

There was that tiny spark of pride again.

He listened for a moment longer before continuing his run.

Quieter.

Leaving no tracks for her to follow.

It would definitely be interesting to see what she would do.

---

It was in the fleeting rays of sunlight that Krista appeared. Dark fur glistening.

She wasn’t in the form she’d first shifted into.

This was more gangly human than anything else. Her feet back to digitigrade but not equipped with retractable claws.

And as she crept across the dark ground, he had to admit that she was blending in fairly well. In fact, had he been anyone else, he might have missed her as she sniffed around.

Closer to the tree she came.

Closer.

Yet closer.

Until finally, she stood beneath his tree.

Slowly, her head tipped up. Hunting him out amongst the foliage until their gazes met.

Her feline face brightened with an excited smile before she began circling the tree.

He could see what she was doing.

Without objection, he climbed higher into the tree. Circling about it with her. Allowing her to stalk him without ever getting closer.

She was purring. Clearly pleased that he was entertaining their little game. Roles reversed from October. And just as she flew up the side of the tree to perch before him, he tipped backwards. Slipping between the branches with an air of grace that Krista envied before landing silently amongst the leaflitter and taking off. Continuing their little game.

Honestly, Krista did appreciate what D was doing. Well aware that he did not have to.

Aware that this entire situation was absolutely ridiculous.

Because yes. She did still have issues.

Was still bothered by things out of her control.

But times like these, when D broke the mold and catered to her more playful nature, made her forget about everything for just a little bit.

---

It was late in the morning when, curled around his lover, Anyd’s voice drifted through the Doctor’s quarters. Quickly rousing him as she said, “Lord Laun, we’ve news on the status of the bounty hunter and her targets.”

He groaned and dragged his fingers through his tangled hair. Sapphire eyes flickering over to the eye bulging out of the wall. Simultaneously dreading and looking forward to what she would say. “Go ahead, Anyd.”

The orb blinked at him. “Thralls have discovered the fate of one Bella Dredfel.”

Dreadful name if one asked Laun.

“Her life came to an end at the hands of the Hunter in a town tavern, along with a copious amount of her Charmed.”

Bitter relief flooded him. “Good. That’s nice, isn’t it, Eddie?”

The dark man murmured out a sleepy affirmation but spoke no more.

“The subject is still on the move. They seem to be in no rush to find us.”

He couldn’t blame them.

“Finally, the next bounty hunter has been dispatched.”

There was what he was waiting for. And just as quickly as he was relieved, he felt dread settle like a lead weight in his belly. Wondering who it might be that was closest.

If they would succeed.

“The one known as Gif T. Ig.”

The body at his side stiffened.

He knew that feel. Disgust swelling until he thought he might vomit.

Quietly, Laun prayed to a God that would rather see him dead.

---

D found a way.

Praise be!

He discovered the way to the girl’s salvation!

And all it required was a bit of play.

A bit of roughhousing.

And a whole mess of Krista enjoying what was happening.

Technically, they were sparring. If she approached the session in a playful mindset, however, she treated it more like a competition. Doing everything in her power to push him back.

Studying his every move.

Enjoying the opportunity to learn.

Which fostered a better learning experience.

It was simply better overall.

She was becoming more adept at dodging his attacks and countering. Redirecting and flowing with force. Using his weight against him. More adept at using her petiteness to her advantage by slipping about. In fact, that was one thing she proved very good at.

As it was, they were darting about the rocky terrain. Krista hot on his heels as she clambered over obstacles and such to catch up. She was doing well, but he wasn’t sure she would ever be able to keep up with him if he went all out.

She might surprise him.

With a soft grunt, she launched herself off her current rock. Propelling herself forward the remaining few feet needed to catch the Hunter.

He jumped.

For a moment, she flailed. Panicked. Able to see her upcoming and rocky demise. But she calmed. Catching herself on the following boulder and shoving herself backwards.

Head first.

Right into his groin.

But ever the unaffected one, D pushed her down to keep her momentum going. Intending to drive her into the ground using her own force.

Her small fingers slipped between his utility belt and pants, and she pulled with all her might.

Even if this resulted in her smooshed against the ground, at least he would be down. And with any luck, she could ‘restrain’ him.

Nope.

He braced himself before kicking backwards. Heel connecting with her ribs with a loud crunch.

The pain that followed, as she snapped loose and tumbled away, left her seeing stars. Disoriented and confused as she struggled to breathe. Struggled to move.

Blood painting her lips with each exhale.

Softly, but with too much weight behind it, D pressed the nail of his index finger into the nape of her neck.

With little more than a gasp, she waved her hand. Acknowledging her ‘demise’. Pretty sure that if something didn’t give in the next few minutes, she would die.

She’d yet to avoid the Hunter’s ‘killing blow’, but she was getting better.

Gingerly, she ran her hand along her side. Right over the large bruise that was staining her skin. And snatched her hand away just as quickly. Visibly disgusted and distressed by the concave shape her ribs had taken.

Like modeling clay that’d been punched.

Panic flared.

Hands shaking.

Limbs feeling weak.

She grasped for D. Not immediately realizing he was still there. Hand now moved to her back as he reminded her to stay calm. To breathe slowly.

But Gods, it hurt.

Distractions were in order.

“I didn’t… do… very good… today,” she wheezed. Gritting her teeth as she attempted to do as D instructed. Chest convulsing briefly.

“Perhaps not,” he agreed. “However, you’re improving.”

She needed to improve faster.

“Push yourself too much and you might regress.”

Now, she grimaced. Wondering how he could read her so well. But she said nothing.

The quiet was broken by a loud snap, and with a wave of relief, Krista sucked in a deep breath.

And immediately choked on her own spit.

Or blood.

She wasn’t sure which.

But she kind of wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

Because choking on spit was just embarrassing.

And wouldn’t that be a fitting end? Death by spit a month out from the Southern Continent. Not taken out by anyone but herself.

Maybe D.

She was okay with that.

Maybe D would kill her quickly.

There was no telling what would happen to her if the creeps that wanted her got their sweaty little hands on her.

---

This.

This was more what she’d hoped for.

It was a different day.

Different terrain.

More tropical than anything else.

And regardless of the moisture clinging to and slicking their skin, she’d somehow managed to bind D’s arms. Her elbows digging into his back and her legs wrapped around his waist. Despite the awkwardness of the position, she still felt incredibly comfortable.

“You’re very nice to hug, D.”

It almost sounded like he snorted.

“My only complaint is that if you were moving faster, I wouldn’t have managed this.”

“Are you ready to speed things up?” he asked.

She wasn’t so sure. “Maybe.”

But it was needed.

Things had been quiet the past month, but she could feel the upcoming trouble. They all could.

Erembour roughhoused more. On edge. Needing to release his nervous energy. D and Hand pushed for a bit more training.

Otherwise, they’d probably be on the other continent already.

Instead, everything was taking twice as long.

“Okay. Let’s speed it up.”

She immediately regretted saying such a thing.

---

Aside from the occasional bout of playful energy that fostered a shift, Krista still had not discovered the secret to shifting.

Sometimes it hurt a bit less when she had a full belly, but it was still painful. And did not take away from the fact that she could not always control how far she shifted.

However, no matter how much she tried to just feel her way to a shift, it did not work.

It always had to be brought on by a strong emotion.

She’d be happy when they found the tribe.

With a groan, Krista stretched out on the ground with Erembour. The furred skin on her back rippling in agitation. Thinking that she was, perhaps, a bit too warm.

It did not deter her from immediately crawling over to D once he settled.

She gently pressed her head into his side and waited. Breathing deep. Attempting to find the way to her Human form.

Being calm helped.

As she closed her eyes to find that calm, she found herself drifting. Eyes jerking about as mud filled her vision.

It burned.

Slicking her skin and filling her in ways she couldn’t describe.

In ways she absolutely did not care for.

She jerked herself out of the sludge.

And immediately wanted to flee.

Maybe vomit.

Amidst all that muck was a person. Perhaps a woman. Skin bubbled and deteriorating. But not in the sense that her flesh was rotting. Just in the sense that the substance surrounding her (devouring her) was eating away at it.

And as the woman convulsed with a gurgling moan, the strange mud pulsing in thick ribbons from between her exposed teeth, Krista finally fled.

Attempted to memorize the town and its surrounding geography.

If she looked hard enough, she could see the mountain range they currently occupied.

Her gaze snapped up to the sun.

She had their next destination.

They couldn’t avoid these people forever. Leaving them to their own devices was a death sentence for people such as that woman. And while she might be the cause (by proxy), she absolutely refused to stand by or run this time.

But why did things have to happen when all was quiet?

---

The moon was high in the sky when D awoke with a start. Lurid light coursing through his eyes as they snapped down to study the girl stretched across his lap. Her lips smooshed open as she softly breathed.

And while she looked very cute…

“… another memory?”

D could for certain say that was a negative.

The energy was entirely different. Nothing like those times.

It was wrong.

Worrying.

He called her name.

Lifted her.

Patted her cheek.

Rubbed his fist vigorously against her sternum.

But she did not rouse. Not even the slightest bit. Her body was slack in his hold. Head lolling back over his arm.

Without a word, under the Demon’s concerned gaze, D pressed his left hand to her chilled forehead. Eyes distant as they searched.

Nothing.

“Damn it.”

Did they dare to press further? Dig for her and risk injuring her?

Or should they pray to God that she wasn’t gone?

Perhaps God would listen.

Just this once.

Chapter Text

It was dark.

Darker than dark.

Suffocating.

All encompassing.

Krista’s heart beat too hard.

Too fast.

With cold, dark waters lapping at her feet, it looked too much like that shit Riedikke did.

Had he found her?

Panic.

Breath rushing in and out.

She didn’t want to forget.

She didn’t want to–

But he was dead.

The waters that had been spiraling up around her suddenly froze. Quivering.

Bursting into a fine mist that fogged the air.

Slowly, light filtered through the mist. Gradually revealing a landscape of overgrown plants and briars. A place that surely would’ve been beautiful if given a bit of care.

In the center of it stood a willow. More dead than alive. But large. Stretching up into the muggy heavens.

It saddened her more than she thought it should.

But…

It absolutely shouldn’t look like that.

She looked around. Briefly. Wondering where she’d ended up as she inched closer to the tree.

Her answer wasn’t far. Perched on the thick roots of the tree as she waited.

“Rhea.”

“Kinda sucks you didn’t just go out the easy way,” she responded.

She looked much the same as before, if not a bit darker in complexion. Healthier.

Sharper.

More predatory.

And as her eyes flickered up to stare her down, Krista felt the urge to flee.

They were sharp. Angry.

Cutting her with their fury.

Krista pressed a hand to her bleeding arm without looking to see the damage.

“I’m allowed to live. Despite what you think.”

“And what makes you think I deserve to be locked up at all times?!” she roared as she leapt to her feet. Storming across the dead grass to jab her finger into Krista’s chest.

“As far as I’m aware, I didn’t put you here!”

Silence. Heavy and leaden as they stared at one another. Krista defiant. Rhea with a venom that could kill. And Krista was honestly surprised she wasn’t dead yet.

“I want out,” Rhea eventually hissed. “I’m tired of bein’ a prisoner. I’m tired of watchin’ you bumble about like an idiot.”

And Krista watched, terrified, as Rhea leaned over her. Like a snake prepared to strike as she reached forward and curled her fingers about her neck.

It wasn’t fair.

Krista could admit this.

And it was precisely why she didn’t want to be a prisoner to her own body.

Just as Rhea’s chilled fingers squeezed about her throat with the intent to choke the life from her, Krista lashed out. Carving four long gashes in Rhea’s face with enough force to throw her to the ground.

“Then kill me, Rhea!” she yelled. Eyes wide. Challenging. “Fuckin’ kill me! But you better keep in mind that I’m not about to just lay down and let you do it!”

To say Rhea was surprised was a gross understatement. But she smiled. Teeth bared as she leapt forward. Growling when Krista danced out of the way.

Another lunge that ended with Rhea skidding across the barren ground. Snarling as she looked up at Krista’s curiously blank face.

She felt judged.

Less than as she threw herself at the red head.

“You don’t know what it’s like!”

Another.

“To be trapped in this stupid place!”

This time, it did land. But Krista appeared unworried. Allowing herself to be carried by the blow before she braced and twisted. Throwing the taller woman to the ground and following the motion with an elbow drop into Rhea’s solar plexus.

Rhea lay there. Wheezing and gasping as she stared, baffled. “How the fuck…”

“You’re stronger than me. But if you would have paid attention instead of thinking of how to best throw me under, you would have seen that D’s been training me.”

“It shouldn’t matter! Not here!”

“Perhaps not.”

“You’re not even actin’ like yourself!”

“Or maybe I’m just tired of your shit.”

The tree at the center of the garden splintered down the middle with a thunderous crack. Ground heaving beneath their feet.

Krista stumbled to one side but continued to glower at Rhea. Face flushing as she bit out, "I'm tired of worrying about how long I'll get to keep my body."

Starting at the tree, the earth split like a gaping maw. Threatening to swallow the two women.

"I'm tired of thinking that it'd be better if one of us were gone."

Now, the entire area began crumbling.

Krista did not move.

Honestly tired.

Exhausted.

But as Rhea tackled her to the ground, she fought. Ignoring the pain of each blow as she kicked her back and pushed up to her feet. "You've done nothing but give me Hell! You're more like a damn parasite!"

Perhaps not her best choice of words.

Too crass.

The wind rushed from her lungs as she collided with the dead willow. Head throbbing as Rhea's knuckles cracked against her jaw.

She could taste blood.

But she couldn't seem to keep her mouth shut. Smiling as she ducked out of the way of another strike. "You act like you're better than me. Put me down and tell me I'm worthless. I think you say these things because that's how you feel."

"You don't know shit!"

"I know enough to not want my own sister dead!"

Silence.

Slowly, in a dark and dangerous voice, Rhea asked, "The fuck makes you think we're sisters?"

Krista didn't know why, but she was almost certain of her claim. "We look alike."

"And if we're two halves of a whole?"

"Still sisters."

Her head pulsed angrily, and she watched as Rhea grimaced and balled up her fist. Looking fully prepared to throw more punches.

"If we could just live in peace, I'd really like that." She snorted. "But you don't seem to care for more than just fucking everything up."

Rhea finally threw the punch. And ignoring the fact that she'd just had a fist rap with all the force of a sledgehammer against her skull, the pain from before flared. The crumbling world around them spinning.

Even unable to see and coordinate herself well, she managed to drive her fist into Rhea's ribs.

Not satisfied in the least by the crunch that followed.

If anything, she was disgusted.

She hated herself.

The next blow to her jaw knocked a few teeth loose, and she delivered another bone-breaker. This time to Rhea's sternum. Desperate to drive her back as Rhea continued to wail on her.

Why couldn't she bring herself to do more damage?

Granted, broken bones were a great amount of damage. But… she just couldn't fight.

Not the way she needed to.

Maybe in another way?

"We've gotta share this body!"

Another strike to her jaw.

"We could!"

The garden continued to fall. The splintered tree sinking into the void as they fought. Krista's blows quickly losing their ferocity.

"It makes more sense for us to work together!"

Rhea would not be deterred. She pinned Krista against the prickly grasses. Determined to beat her out of existence.

"So quit bein' a bitch an' le's figure this out!"

"Shut up!" And with her fists clenched together above her head, Rhea brought them down on Krista. Grimacing when her blood pooled about them. But she kept striking her until Krista moved no more.

There she sat. Straddling Krista's waist. Breath quick and shallow.

Feeling no gratification in her 'victory'.

But this is what she wanted.

Right?

Shouldn't she feel something good?

Why'd she feel so gross?

"This is what I wanted," she hissed.

Maybe she was wrong?

She was definitely conflicted.

"Fuck!"

Rhea lurched to her feet. Clutching her chest and ribs as she struggled to move back from the ever-widening chasm. Gasping and attempting to focus.

She looked up and peered through the clouds. Wincing at a particularly sharp spike of pain. One that seemed to race up her spine and arc across her scalp. As if attempting to dissuade her from reaching out.

But damn it all.

D needed to find them!

She pushed harder.

Nothing.

With another growl, she turned back to Krista. Surprised to see her slowly pushing herself upwards. Face swollen and bloodied. Black and blue. And despite her willingness to fight back earlier, she visibly flinched at Rhea's approach.

But dare she say she was relieved to see her moving? Happy that she was still among the living?

As she leaned into Krista's space, she was immediately knocked backwards. Mouth filling with blood and a few loose teeth. "Yeah. Okay. I deserved that," she murmured. Spitting the teeth into her hand.

Around them, the garden ceased its rumbling. Deteriorating no more.

But as she looked back up at Krista, she found her vision fading. Sinking into a darkness that she had no control over.

"Girls! Stop your fighting!"

Her eyes blinked open to focus on the woman across the yard.

Mama.

"We're not fighting."

"No fibbing, Rhea. You know I can always see through them."

They sighed. Watching as the woman stood in the shadow of the doorway and wiped her hands on her dark apron.

"Did Daddy bring back dinner?"

She smiled, eyes not quite crinkling with the motion. "Yes. But let's not change the subject. Come talk to me."

It was a soft command that they did not fight. But followed begrudgingly. Pushing out of the herb section of the garden to stand before her.

"Tell me. What is it you are fighting about?"

Another, yet more forceful, sigh. "We don't get why we've gotta share."

"Share what?"

"Us," she stressed. "Why have we gotta share?"

"Oh." The dark-haired woman looked lost. Conflicted. "Well… it all started before you were born. I can't truly explain everything in a way you might understand right now, but always know that you two are stronger together than you ever were apart."

They looked down. Staring at their hands as if that would reveal the secret. Answer all their questions. "We don't feel strong?"

The woman's hand entered the sunlight long enough to grasp their shoulder and pull them in. Barely smoking, but still a cause for concern to the child. However, the woman was undisturbed. Staring into their eyes in an attempt to convey what she didn't say.

"Once upon a time, you were two little girls. But a Higher Power decided you would be better together." Her eyes shined. Slowly overflowing as she choked up. "And while one baby grew, the other did not."

They watched as her lips pressed in and her chin quivered.

They didn't have long to puzzle out what she meant or even attempt to comfort her. She straightened up with a wide smile and ushered them into the house. "Someday, you will better understand. For now, go clean up. I've almost finished butchering the stag."

"But Mama--!"

"No 'but's!" she interrupted. "Go clean up. Maybe find Father."

And without another word, she whipped them about and ushered them out of the kitchen. Leaving no room for argument as she moved back to the large animal occupying the counter.

"Krista Rhea."

They froze to listen.

"Someday, we will take you to a place where you may better understand why things are the way they are. But always remember that sisters shouldn't fight."

---

The Hunter kept his hand to Krista's forehead. Slowly delving deeper until he felt it.

The quietest plea from a silvery voice. So close to Krista's, but so very different.

And then… static.

The slow build of energy they'd disregarded up until this point swelling to a crescendo that they could no longer ignore.

D pulled back and waited. Comforted, if only barely. Keeping his hold on her small body, even as she slowly stirred. A look of deep confusion clouding her hazy eyes.

But she said nothing at first. Merely staring up at the man in black as she attempted to reorient herself. Until eventually she breathed with a small smile, "That was the shittiest sleep I've ever had."

She heard him huff out a small breath through his nose. Pleased, but needing to speak on other matters.

"So… Confirmed. Rhea's my sister." His brow raised in response. "But neither of us learned why we're in the same body. You wanna see what happened?"

"That would be up to you."

Her shoulders rolled. "I don't mind. I might just doze back off."

She did exactly that as he dipped into her mind and watched the fight between the two girls. Almost proud of how she handled it. Understanding of why she eventually began pulling her punches. Knowing that she would be more capable in a fight for her life.

Then, he sank into the memory. Not surprised by the mother's reaction to the sun. But finding that niggling sense of nostalgia blossoming into something… more.

It was strange. But all was quiet.

And Krista, understandably exhausted, did not stir as he straightened and closed his eyes. Delving into the depths of his mind to understand why.

Perhaps with a bit of help from the countenanced carbuncle, if needed.

---

By morning, he had no answers.

If anything, he was left perplexed.

Some things simply were not adding up.

Without a doubt, the Hunter did not care for it. Not one bit. And as Krista gradually roused, he had nothing to offer her.

No insight.

“Hey, D?”

He looked up from his task of rearranging the bags.

“I don’t mean to be rude…”

“Then don’t be.”

Her lips puckered. Amusement flashing in her bright eyes. Louder, as if he’d said nothing, she said, “I don’t mean to be rude, but you look constipated.”

The slight crease betwixt his brows smoothed out.

“And you look like you’ve eaten something sour.”

In all honesty, his expression had not deviated much from what was typical. Merely slight variations that she could somehow pick out from her distance where others would overlook them up close.

“Simply… thinking.”

And what else was there that he could say?

---

They reached the town in Krista’s dream in record timing.

The town was barely habitable. A thick haze hanging low in the air, smelling of burning rubber and rot. Something no one enjoyed.

Whoever was responsible did not seem to be concerned with keeping any to ship off.

Skeletons held together by what appeared to be dried mud littered the town. And looking down the street, it was easy to see where her dream had taken place.

It filled her with disgust.

For just a moment, she wanted to run again.

She couldn’t.

Wouldn’t.

…

Something in the air changed.

Out of the corner of her eye, she observed the Hunter.

He was on edge. Left hand rigid and minutely turned to face her. A cautionary signal that was heeded.

Despite the scent making her feel a bit lightheaded, she sniffed.

It was getting stronger.

Dear Gods. She thought she might be sick. But there was something there. Something… alive. But not.

Two somethings.

Three.

Seven.

Her muscles bunched in anticipation. And with a small grunt, she murmured to D, “If I asked to, would you let me attempt to kill them on my own?”

With a speed that surprised her, his head snapped around. Slim eyes momentarily narrowed before he responded, “If that is what you wish.”

“I do.” Slowly, she flashed an uncertain smile at him and Erembour. Visibly worried. Almost uncertain of her own decision. Ignoring the concern on the Demon’s countenance. “Catch me if I fall?”

A soft nod. “Of course.”

And in the blink of an eye, he was gone from view.

Close enough to help if she truly struggled, but out of view.

“… you sure, girl?”

“As sure as I can be.”

He huffed before disappearing just as quickly.

For just a moment, she felt alone.

Perhaps Rhea was with her, but she’d been silent since their confrontation. Possibly to recover. Think over everything they’d learned.

It was, admittedly, a tad daunting.

They would need to talk more. Hash out their feelings and animosities. Come to some sort of agreement. Because things would not be magically fixed in less than a week.

However, now was not the time to be thinking of such things.

Through the haze came a lumbering figure. Hulking. Standing well over seven feet tall. With eyes that faintly glowed and bobbed with each soggy step.

“Ah… there she is.”

His voice was reminiscent of wet mud gurgling and schloping out of a drainpipe. Forced to string together noises that sounded similar to Human speech.

Stiffly, his eyes floated about his head. Scanning the vacant street and rooftops. “Where’s the Hunter?”

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t play stupid, girl!”

She flinched, eyes flickering towards a rooftop at his back. There was nothing there, but she hoped he would turn to look.

He did. The muddy mass that was his head rotating until he faced away from her. And Krista pounced, blades at the ready.

A spout of the viscous mud erupted from the ‘man’ and made impact with her chest. Hot. Acidic as it chewed away at her armor and flesh.

But it was gone in an instant. Pulling away her skin with a sickly squelch.

Hell of a time to be thankful she’d put away her clothes. When her hands shook and trembled from the pain.

“I’ve no quarrel with you, girl,” he groused as an eye she’d not seen pushed to the surface and rolled over her. “But the Council specified to bring you to them alive. Don’t make me take you to the rendezvous in bits.” The mud split into a vicious grin. Black and dripping and unmoving as he finished, “Because I will gladly do so.”

Krista gritted her teeth as she eyed the swath of her chest missing the epidermis. Knowing she needed a new plan.