A Hawk's Hunt - Book 1

Shattered Glass (Prologue)

I awoke to an intense burning, almost stinging feeling in my palms and fingers, my body ached, my chest felt tight, and i felt a rather irritating feeling of liquid running down my arms. I finally came to, i had blacked out for only moments, but it felt like an eternity. I was on my hands and knees, looking down at the cabin floorboards, there was shards of glass everywhere, cinders and snow alike landing along the Wood, and blood... on everything... there was lines of viscous, thick, blood running down my wrists and palms, the black hue to it was sickening. Crawling forward a little, the sharp, jagged edges of the individual glass crystals stabbed into my palms at every single movement... i found myself wishing i never took those damned things off when i walked inside... I scrambled to, or more so stumbled onto my feet, i was alone in the cabin, one resident dead, the other... unaccounted for... reaching for my rifle i had dropped in the commotion, i limped forward looking through the flames of the small house fire, my memory was still foggy, but i knew i didn't want to put out this fire, i wanted to "fuel" it. I yearned for something that was in these woods, i wanted to have revenge. whether or not this revenge was for the one i lost or for my own sick pleasure was undecided, i just wanted it. Reaching the window, i vaulted over it... failing... due to my still weak condition, i fell right into the snow, without my gloves again. My blood stained and tainted the snow like a plague, the greenish black fluid slinking its way through each individual crystal of snow and ice. The stinging feeling numbed in my palms as all i felt was cold, crawling forward a bit, i huffed, seeing my breath in the cold air in front of me. Grasping onto a nearby tree, i stood up, taking my gloves out of my back-pocket, i put them on, and zipped up my coat, before pulling my scarf around my neck, tightening it... This was going to be a long night...

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The vast expanse of woods laid before Tom was referred to as "The Appalachian Strip" a mountain range going through the east coast and into the north, before looping around the west, along the range were several branches of smaller mountain ranges, sprawling out like wretched arms with their constrictive grasp upon these lands. The wildlife here was strange and abnormal, even normally familiar animals seemed foreign, evolved to survive the harsh wilds from which several advanced, intelligent species had emerged millions of years ago, most of them wishing harm on the stain upon this planet; humankind. Tom being one of these creatures, although oddly human-looking, how peculiar? these woods were home to hostile life, unforgiving terrain, monuments of gold and iron, and ruinous powers left forever sleeping.

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Thrashing about, there was a struggle, piercing screeches and the sound of gunfire filled the air... A knife was raised, jammed down into the sickly beast's hide, a croaking wheeze being hollered out from its oozing jaws as the knife was pried and yanked at until... "SNAP"... the handle broke off from the blade as it dragged across the collar-bone, the material scattering about and splintering into the hunter's hand... fabric tore, articles of clothing being ripped off the wearer  as the Blight desperately tried to reach flesh, throwing the coat off it's wearer, tearing into the shirt, and lacerating the flesh underneath as boney claws tore through their target... The coat landed on a nearby branch as both parties stumbled to the ground, still struggling and fighting for their lives, a "CRACK" was heard as a horn was snapped off the beast and used to stab right through its neck and head, over and over... The scuffle continued as the Blight dragged its prey deeper into the woods, the Hunter putting up a fight all the way, refusing to go down without swinging, refusing to give this Blight the satisfaction of their death, REFUSING to die, even without one of their arms, even without an eye, even with shattered ribs, they REFUSED to give in...