The shadow Hunter

Prologue

~19th OF JANUARY 2008~

 My eyes flew open as i heard a bang downstairs. I sat up for a few seconds, straining my ears but there was no new sound, so i fell back under my covers. Voices. I could hear them downstairs, but they were unintelligible. I slowly pulled my head out from under the duvet and reached for the switch to my bed side light. The lamp glowed in the darkness. I swung my legs over the side of my bed and my feet hit the carpet. I crept to my door and opened it ajar. "Byt vpolne" It was words i didn't understand, they sounded like gibberish to me. I looked to my right, down the corridor to my mothers bedroom. I thought about getting her first, telling her about the voices and the bangs, but i wanted to be brave. I had turned 8 years old 4 months ago and now that i was all grown up, i could face danger by myself. I started to tip toe down the stairs, one by one, the voices becoming louder with each one. "on znayet, chto vy sdelali" Spoke a gravely voice. 

I tensed slightly, drawing back as the sound of a fierce slap echoed, but i plowed on down the stairs, feeling very determined. I reached the bottom step and heard a new voice. "ya nay znayu, au cham vy govorite" I recognized the voice, although my mother sounded very different, speaking in this language foreign to me. I peered around the banister and my eyes widened. The kitchen door was open, my mother sat, no, tied in a chair. Her hands behind her back, her body bound by black strips of material. Her face was bloody and bruises were erupting on her perfectly smooth skin. I was starting to feel less determined and more scared as i saw the three men. They were big and rough looking, with scary faces and dark eyes. I gasped again as one of the men, hit her hard in the face with his fist. My mother's face was knocked back towards the ceiling and when she looked back at the men, her nose was dripping with blood, her eye bruised and red. 

Despite this, she didn't look scared. On the contrary, she seemed quite composed . "ljetz, on vsegda uznayet." One of the men muttered. He reached for something that i couldn't see at first, but a glint of metal caught my eye. I stepped out from behind the banister, my lip trembling as he held the gun up to my mother's head. Her eyes flickered towards me and her eyes went wide. "Clara, look away, run!" She screamed.

 That was the last thing she ever spoke, to me or to anyone. The bang rang through the house, the aftershock shattering the mirror in the hallway and knocking me to the ground. I opened my eyes to see the man who had shot her, bearing down at me. He smelled of blood and he had one long scar across his face. My breath hitched in my throat as i scrambled back on my hands, my palm landing on a shard of the mirror. I grasped it and as the man attempted to grab me, i thrust it forward into his face. He grunted in pain as it caught his cheek. "malenkaya suka" He grumbled as he grabbed me by the hair, pulling me to my feet. I screamed and struggled but it was no use. He seized me under my arms and dragged me to my feet. They were bare and glass cut deep into them. The last thing i saw before he shoved the sack over my head and tied my hands together, was my mother's body. 

The other two men held her the same way the man held me but her body was limp. Her eyes had no life behind it. A great hole in her head, blood trickling down her face. She still looked beautiful, somehow. I had spent many nights dreaming that i grew up to look like her. That the blonde bits in my brown hair would dominate my head. That somehow my eyes would deepen to her hazel eyes. That my face would soften to match hers. I screamed and yelled as the man dragged me away from my home. It was no use. We lived in a secluded country side area and no one was around to hear. One time, on a very special birthday, my mother had taken me on a trip to London and it was the most magnificent place i had ever been, also the only place i had ever been. I heard a door slide open, and whimpered as i was thrown onto a hard ground. A door slid shut again and i felt an engine grumble beneath me as we started to move. I opened my hand, realizing the shard of mirror was still in my grasp. I blindly stuffed it in my sock, cutting myself in the process. I tried to count the minutes but i lost track pretty quickly. 

The minutes passed, hours maybe, days even. I remembered falling in and out of a drowsy sleep making me completely lose track of time, this wasn't helped by the fact i was surrounded in darkness.  When the rumbling engine stopped, they pulled me from the van, marching me some place, my surroundings were colder, even colder than England. I heard a knock, a man speak in the weird language again. The sack was pulled from my head and the rope was untied from my wrists. I blinked in the bright light. How long had it been, a day? Two? From behind a desk emerged a man. His hair was thin and greying, his face was grey and starting to wrinkle. How could i know now how this face would haunt my mind for the rest of my existence? He walked up to me, glancing down at me. "dumaiu, u nee vse poluchitsya" He said simply. I frowned and gritted my teeth. The three men started to pull at my arm, but i kept my feet planted. They yanked at me but still i refused to move. "ona veselaya" He laughed, his laugh sounded like glass on sandpaper. It made my skin crawl, always would. One man lifted me by my arms and i wasn't strong enough to resist but i was loud enough to protest. I screamed as loud as i could as they dragged me down a long corridor. I glanced behind me, at the man's face. He stood in the door way with a pleased but cruel smile on his face.