The Bounty Hunter's Trilogy: Chosen By Fate

Chapter 1. Sibling Rivalries

I used to laugh at the insanity of it all. The supernatural, I mean. Vampires, werewolves, zombies. The concept of a person truly believing that those kinds of things existed was hard for me to wrap my head around. It all just seems so insane.

Correction.

Seemed.

Maybe that's not such a bad thing. I mean ignorance is bliss, right? It's the good kind of insane, I guess. You won't really be able to understand unless I start you off at the beginning. I hope you brought snacks.

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It was near the end of March in 2015, and I was walking down the familiar street in Sunbury that night, just minding my own business. I guess you can say that's the day when all of this started. My worn snow boots were slapping lazily against the wet ground with every slow step I took. I was in no hurry to get home. My jeans were wet just above the boots, up until the knee because I'd accidentally tripped in a huge puddle of brown and gray snow slush from it raining earlier. But my thick, red fleece coat kept me warm in the mid-thirties weather from the knees up. The hat and gloves did so little to fight the cold, they may as well have been stuffed in my pockets.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, so I checked it. It was just another stupid game reminder. I shook my head as I put my phone back into my pocket and shifted my backpack so that it was no longer in danger of slipping from my shoulder.

Oh, I'm so stupid. My name is Daniel. Sorry I forgot to introduce myself. My life has been a bit...strange recently. Anyways, I'm Daniel McIntyre. I stand a little over six feet tall, uh... brown hair, green eyes, scrawny build. I'm not much to bother about, but now you can picture me, okay?

So, where was I... walking home. I lived with my mom normally because my dad left when I was ten. Finian McIntyre, the man who didn't speak to me after he walked out on me and my mom, probably thinking he was doing me a favor. I remember crying for weeks after he left, waiting by the window to see the moment he'd come back. A moment that never really came.

Well five years later he suddenly wanted to hang out more. Great, because we have so much to talk about? Maybe force me to meet the substitute family when he "wasn't much for being a dad" before? You would have a hard time even telling we were related. His pale blue eyes were something I didn't inherit. I was left out on his widows' peak as well, but I did get his dimples.

But two years later, we actually are starting to form a new relationship. I guess once I realized it wasn't about me, and I actually considered the effort he was making to be an active part of my life, I started to warm up to him again.

Unfortunately he has this wife, Darla... and I hate her so much. She's in her late twenties, works a part time job, and gave dad two brats and a baby whom she thought replaced me.

I finally got to his large two-story house, cranky from the cold walk from school, and opened the door. The youngest, Conner, about seven months old, was sitting in his high-chair in the dining room screaming his head off, while Grace, who was nearly five, was putting stickers everywhere on him that she could reach.

"Hey, knock it off." I went over and took them away from her. Conner was covered in fairies, hearts, and layers of other glittery shapes. The oven timer was going off and the TV was on the news channel. It was turned up so loud that I couldn't even hear myself thinking.

I reached for the remote, turning the volume down, when the news story changed and caught my attention as the man on the screen began talking. "And in other news, the recent disappearances and killings in Canada have dramatically increased. Today though, Alaska saw its first citizens fall victim. Four bodies were found on fire in Juneau, apparently with the usual claw and bite marks. The President is hesitant to close borders but increased border checks are being discussed." The image changed from the man to a crime scene with yellow caution tape blocking off the public as police were taking down notes and taking photographs of a burnt piece of sidewalk with a body bag to the side. The news anchor kept narrating as I stared at the TV in shock.