Hunter

XXIX

Aric was shocked frozen, his brother's body strewn across the ground in front of him like paint. Strange blue clouds drifted in out of his vision, making the air around him feel like ice shards.
Aric screamed, wracking sobs destroying his vocal chords. His world was ending. It was done, his family was dead.
He was dead.
He felt such anger, such anguish, the bands on his wrists started to vibrate.
Two blades formed in his fists, and the seven-year old charged forward, screaming with crashes and cuts of emotion.
He jumped and slashed, cutting off a harpy's head, slicing off another's wings. He spun out of the way as one tried to bite him, and he brought down his swords, skewering the thing through the neck. Tears ran down his cheeks like rivers, dripping off as he swung his swords. A harpy swooped down, clawing at his torso and hips, but he quickly stabbed it.
Deaddeadeaddead
He was covered in monster blood, and his blades were steaming. He was on fire, flames licking the edge of his jeans. He wanted to burn, he wanted to spark into the sky like lightening.
The rest of the harpies had fled, flying away, screeching.
Aric cried. Why didn't they just do this sooner? Why didn't they leave before?!
He stumbled across the bodies of the harpies.
"I'm dead," he murmured. "I'm dead."
He fell onto the ground, strange feelings tearing through his tiny chest.
His view blurred dramatically, shifting into different scene.  Dark shadows were cast over him like the shade from a tree.
He was at a foster home, the one before his cousin took him in. The woman bent in front of him, her bleached hair making Aric's head hurt.
She was saying something, but he didn't care.
He didn't care about anything anymore. He was dead.
And dead people don't have feelings.
The woman's' face kept changing like a kaleidoscope, making his head hurt even more. Winged demons chased him out of a brightly lit building, scratching at his head and the skin showing through his t-shirt and shorts.
The scene changed again, this time it was of his cousin helping him, translating his anger into energy.
He felt so good, the bruises and cuts felt so good. Jason would've been so impressed by his kid brother. The one who always squealed when he saw a spider. Or the one who would only watch Halloween specials if there was someone else in the room. But his brother was dead. And around never ever see his brother; he wouldn't see Aric as a killing machine.
Aric faced the demons that scratched him before, slicing and slashing with a brightly lit silver sword, that crackled with energy.
The scene shifted again in a blur of white and silver spots, showing Aric over the dead body of a harpy. One who had gotten away that day.
He and his cousin had tracked them all down, and since Aric was seven, he had been traveling the world and destroying them. It was good thing, since he never had time to focus on the pain. He never got PTSD from the whole experience surprisingly, but he was losing his mercy. Bit by bit. Breath by breath.
A flock of black birds flew over Aric's head, shifting into strange horses. Aric felt himself scream, shooting them down with a gun that had appeared in his hand.
He looked back at the harpy at his feet, and it burst apart, into thousands of little harpies.
He shot them down, and when they fell, their faces shifting into the face's of his family.
He wanted to stop. He was hurting them! Why couldn't he stop?
He kept shooting until he saw a smiling woman with dark hair smile at him wickedly.
He shot at her, but she disappeared in a flurry of feathers. Aric kicked the ground, counting the shadowy figures he had shot to the ground. All of them were there.
Except one. There was only one left. And Aric would destroy her the way she destroyed him.