The Hunt (Creepypasta Fanfic)

Chapter 3

"Verone! Where's the pot?" "At the top left cupboard. Are you planning on cooking, River?" I ask as I put down my book and slowly made my way to the kitchen, careful not to make wounds worser. "Yup. What you think I don't know how to cook?" He remarked as he took out the pot set it on the stove. "I never said that.  I just never knew." I sat down at the kitchen counter as he takes out the ingredients for what seems to be spaghetti bolognaise. "Then today,  you'll be seeing Chef River cooking his best spaghetti bolognaise." Show off. I chuckled. "Just don't burn it, chef.  It won't be the best I'd it burns." Sometimes I wonder if he really is a right hand man of a general.

Ivan came in with a bag of groceries in hand. "Verone, you know you shouldn't be moving around." "I'll be fine, Ivan. You worry too much. Thanks for doing groceries." "Your welcome. Any news from the task force yet?" Ivan asked as he took a seat next to me. I took out my phone and unlocked it. "They couldn't find The Rake but they got a blood sample from the last incident. They're experimenting it at the lab." I scanned through the report that they sent. "And another murder case but not Creepypasta related. Kid killed his dad for abusing him and his mom. Ugh, I wish I was on the field. I'm sick of sitting here and doing nothing." "You are far from fit to be on the field, Verone. You should let your wounds heal first. Your temporary replacement is doing a good job leading the task force anyway. You shouldn't be worried."

"Yeah. I've seen that guy working yesterday. He's really strict on the soldiers. Training those soldiers day and night non-stop. I'm starting to pity them." River comment as he chops some veggies. "What was his name again?" "Wow. That is so not you, Ivan.  You usually remember things. The guy's name's Jace Crowe. A friend of yours, right Verone?" "Yeah. We met when I first joined the task force. He's a great soldier. His sister was the victim of Laughing Jack. He sworn to get his revenge for his sister." I told as I put down my phone on the kitchen counter. "Must be hard for him." Ivan looked down. He wasn't the victim of any Creepypasta nor was his family. But he joined because he didn't liked to see people dying and wanted to help stop it for keeping on happening.

"I'm going to the headquarters. I can't be on the field but at least I want to see how's we everything going along." I stated. About to the stand up but was stopped by River. "After dinner." He placed a plate of spaghetti bolognaise in front of me. My mouth watered at the sight of the dish. "Thanks." Ivan ate it a bit and his eyes went wide in surprise. "This is actually quite good." "Really? Let me taste it." I pick up my fork and took a bit of the spaghetti then ate it. "It is! Who knew River could cook so well." Ivan nod, unable to speak with his full mouth. "I told you that Chef River will make the best. Enjoy.". We ate in a comfortable silence and Ivan took care of the dishes.

I went to my room to get ready to head out. It was cold tonight so I wore a gray undershirt, white leather jacket, white slacks and black boots. I let my dark brown hair down and put on my glasses. Not forgetting to wear my gloves and watch. A knock was heard at my door as I took one last look at myself on the mirror. "You ready, Verone?" Ivan's voice was heard from the other side of the door. I opened the door, seeing Ivan wearing his dark blue leather jacket, black slacks and gray boots. "Yeah. Where's River?" "At the living room, waiting for us."

"Took you guys long enough. Got your gear, Verone?" Ivan was wearing a brown leather jacket with white slacks and brown boots. For some reason, it feels like we all are wearing the same type of clothing. "Right here." I said as I pat my left thigh where my gun and dual swords are. "Then let's go."

We got into River's car and headed for the headquarters. "Put on your 'General Foress' face, General. We don't our soldiers to see the 'Verone' side of you." "The same goes to you, soldier. We don't want our soldiers to think we have a quirky chef among our ranks." He pouted. "Fine." He took a sharp left turn that took us to our destination.