Danny Phantom: Stories of the Dead

Skulker

Skulker:

Alexander Hunter was a small man with a big mission and an even bigger ego. Despite being a foreigner from America, he was known as the best bounty hunter and mercenary in Europe- he earned the title fair and square. Therefore, he planned on keeping it, even if that meant taking up the dirtiest assignments that there was. So there he found himself, hunched over in the dark shadows as he watched his target converse with the others.

You're mine, prey.

His target was Piero Turati- an Italian mobster in charge of what had to be one of the biggest drug deals in Italy. With a position like that, it was easy to see how Piero earned himself enough enemies- one of which was brave enough to hire Alexander to kill him.

It wouldn't be his first kill and it wasn't going to be his late. A kill like that, however, would add a lot of credit to his name- or rather, his alias name Skulker- a play on worked for the word skulk. He skulked his pray like a predator in the wild and he felt no shame in it. Though, many had trouble believing that he was Skulker- the Skulker.

Alexander wasn't exactly the biggest man on the field. In fact, he was the smallest. Many of his targets went over Alexander's small 5' frame (inherited by his mother's side of the family). Though for someone so small, he made up for it with fierceness and determination.

Though some may consider his work cold-hearted, it wasn't like he had anything else to do. He had no family left- they were all gone and six feet under. He had no wife, no kids. He was a lone hunter in his heart and he planned on acting on his natural knack for tracking people and animals down. It was how he liked it.

Up on his spot on the roof of a nearby building and hidden from sight, he was sure he was safe from being spotted... He was wrong.

"Hey little man," someone said from behind him.

That was all he heard before it all went black.

When he opened up his eyes again, it was all black and it didn't take long for him to figure out that it was due to a black bag being over his head. He couldn't see anything, but he could tell that he was stripped of all his weapons and potential things that he could use as weapons. He was only thankful that he could at least feel the fabric of his clothes still on. However, he could also feel the ropes around his wrists and his feet. He tasted something metallic in his mouth- blood. His upper lip was bleeding and he was aware of the pain in his sides. He was beaten while he was knocked out.

This is what it comes down to, he thought with a scowl, no honor.

He hissed as the bag was ripped off his head and he spit out a small amount of blood from the torn upper lip.

"You think you can just come here on my territory unnoticed," Piero said as he stepped into the light.

A small single light bulb dangled above their heads. He could see ten, perhaps more, mobsters all around him with guns, muscles, and a menacing look. Piero himself looked rather menacing with the slicked black hair and meaner looking face. The thing that set him apart from the other mobsters was the more slick suit that looked cleanly pressed- never dirty.

No, he has men to do the dirty work for him.

"See, that's the things with you Americans," Piero said as he stepped closer, "You're so arrogant that you think you can just not get killed. And that's where you're wrong."

If Piero was going to kill him, Alexander wished that it would happen soon- then he wouldn't have to listen to all the yapping.

"But here's the thing," Piero said, "Just killing you is no fun. No lesson learned..."

He went towards the door on his way out, leaving the other mobsters besides two that must've been personal guards,

"Oh and boys- teach him a lesson, would you?"

Then there was pain- so much pain.

"I hope you learned your lesson," Piero sneered.

In front of him, there was Alexander- broken and bloodied. He was barely breathing, but he was alive and suffering. That was exactly what Piero wanted- he wanted Alexander... No, he wanted the so-called best-bounty hunter Skulker to suffer and beg for his life. Piero knew, however, that the man before him was far too egotistic to do something as pathetic as beg for his life. So, he decided for something different.

"Put him down, boys," Piero ordered.

The mobsters pushed Alexander down as he coughed up a small amount of blood. His hands were tied behind his back. He felt pathetic- small. He couldn't help but wonder if he was better, stronger, smarter, bigger than perhaps it wouldn't have ended up the way it did.

He noticed that one of the mobsters held an ax and with Piero's nod, the ax came down on his neck. With a few choppy cuts, his head fell to the ground. Though, what haunted Alexander's last thoughts was that he left a single hunt go unfinished- failed.