Spirit Hunter

Chapter 1: I Should've Stayed Home

You know when you're young, and you ask your parents if you can do something, and when they say no you do it anyways like a little puke? That's pretty much what I had done. It was like 5 days after my 16th birthday and, as I always do, I was getting ready for my 4 hour drive to go visit grandma in Chicago, when my parents walked up to me with important news.

"Unfortunately, Q, your trip has to be cancelled. We have someone at our house who wants to meet. It's--" Mom pipes in "A surprise, right Jerry?" She gives him a somewhat dirty look. "Yes, that's right honey. And he has to leave soon, so it must be now." Now, it was this choice that kinda screwed up my life. Of course, I didn't know the consequences at the time, but leaving resulted in a large mess for me to clean up that... well you'll find out later. Staying would've let stay with my family a little longer until... again, you'll find out later. "Mom, Dad, I only see grandma once a year, and it only lasts a few days! You know how lonely she gets up there, especially without..." I stop, knowing that grandpa's death is still a touchy subject. "Listen, I would love to meet this person, but family first. Just tell him to come back later!" Before they can explain further, I hug them both goodbye and drive off.

Now, I don't know how many of you have driven across-state, but it's excruciating. Especially if you're doing it alone. Of course, have an obsidian arrow pierce through your passenger side window doesn't make much better, and nor does getting whiplash from hitting the brakes to suddenly. My first thoughts are "Well that's not normal." Which was obvious, even when I was only a couple miles away from a reservation. Of course, as if it couldn't get weirder, there was no one, and I mean no one around, let alone bow-wielding maniacs, or racist teenagers trying to be funny. After something like that, I'd normally just leave right away, but I decided to go into the woods. I mean, I still didn't find anyone (or anything), but what if I had? I probably would've been a victim. Dumbfounded and a little scared --o.k, really scared-- I decided to just leave, and maybe drive a little faster. 4 hours later, including several stops to check my surroundings (you don't forget something like that easily!), I finally made it to Chicago.

The first thing I did when I got to Chicago was buy a pizza, which was really good by the way, and then I made my way to my Grandma's house. I eventually found a place to park, and found that the house was the way it always has been; faded yellow paint on the outside with a newly painted red door (which looked way out of place), with a porch that looked like it was patched together last-minute. But trust me, the outside is very misleading; the inside had a similar style to that of a mansion, but minus the extremely expensive things and the size of the house. It was an extremely sophisticated look that I, and my parents especially, envied. I knock on the door a couple times, and my Grandma answers with a hug and the typical joke on my height. I'm pretty short for my age, only 5'4". But what I lack in height I make up for... nothing, actually. Anyways, she starts off with this:

"You know, I recently went hiking when I found this." She pulls out an old obsidian knife, unlike anything I had in my collection, and hands it to me. "Happy birthday, Quentin." I'm stoked, and it doesn't take my long to express it. "Oh my god, I've been looking for something like this! Thank you so much!" She ushers me in, and tells me that my room is finally finished and that it's upstairs to the left, so i don't need to sleep on the couch this time. I drag my stuff upstairs, and get to work unpacking. There isn't much to unpack, just some clothes, but i don't quite feel like lugging it around, and if i leave it out I'm sure my Grandma's cat Chico will pee on it. Once I'm done, I watch some Jeopardy with her and then we go out to eat at a burger joint. The next day is pretty much the same as well. We wake up, eat breakfast watch tv, etc. But on the 3rd day, we sat down to watch the news when something terrible happened.

"This just in: A nearby indian reservation called "Sunny Valley" has been burned to the ground, with what the police are saying are ancient obsidian arrows not unlike those used by early native americans have been littered across the scene. Fortunately no bodies have been found yet, though officials fear the worst. Now the chie..." The sound drowns out as my Grandma turns down the volume. She looks at me sadly.

"Quentin, I... I am so sorry. Do you want me to drive you over there?" I shake my head. "No. Seeing it will make me feel worse. Plus, they already said that there's no one there. With that aside, It looks like I might be living with you for a bit, which means I need new clothes. Oh, and since school starts in 2 weeks, I might as well start going then." She nods her head. She almost says something but decides it's the wrong time. I go up to my room, contemplating my decisions, and hoping with all that I am that my parents may still be alive.

In order to distract myself from the worst news that could have possibly hit me, but to no avail, I decided that I would go shopping at the Chicago Mall. I needed new clothes anyways, since all of mine (apart from 5 days worth) burned up. I wasn't necessarily going to just give up on my parents though; there were no bodies at the crime scene, meaning that they may still be alive. I would rather die than not look. But until then, I had to find myself a job. In order to do that, I started to walk from shop to shop asking for applications until I finally found a place: Corny Weiners. Sure it's not the place, but it's a place. Anywho, I was walking up to the stand when someone taps me on the back. He's a pretty tall kid, about 6', pale as hell, dark circles under his eyes like he just crawled out from under a rock.

"You lost?" He asks. I'm a little too weirded out to talk so I just shake my head. He frowns and asks "Are you sure? I've only seen two types of people walk up to that stand: People who are definitely not in shape, and people who are asking for directions, and you look in-shape to me." I shake my head again, but this time I add "Nah man, I'm actually looking for a job. Know any places?" The guy seems nice, so I'm hoping he won't mind me asking. "Oh, for sure." He says, like it's no big deal. "I actually know just the place. I have a friend who works over at gamestop, and I'm sure she'll give a good word if I have you two meet. Her name's Mara. Oh, I almost forgot. My name's Al." He reaches out his hand for me to shake, so naturally I do. "Let's go meet Mara then." I smile. I'm one step closer to finding out what happened. I feel like a detective, maybe even Sherlock himself! Probably not, but at least I feel a little better.

So we're on our way over to gamestop, when I see an American Eagle shop on our way there. I already mentioned to him that I was here for clothes so we both decided I could stop here. I grabbed a few pairs of jeans and shirts, and told he should look around while I try them on. I'm halfway into the second pair of jeans when I hear screams that sound like they came from the bottom floor. I quickly throw on my original clothes and go check out what's going on. I catch up with Al, who's hanging his head over the railing, and see what's happening; a bunch of people dressed up as Cherokee Indians (which I find really offensive), riding horses into the mall, speaking a language that I don't quite recognize. The all of a sudden, a girl walks up to them. She resembles Al, just a little bit. She is also pretty tall and somewhat pale. Only difference is that her eyes are a very vivid blue, and her hair is dyed black, which appears to be a natural blond. "Hey!" Al exclaims. "That's Mara!" She brushes the hair out of her vision and says "Listen, I don't know what they let you do at those damn Casinos, but that doesn't fly here. I'm going to have to ask you to leave. All of the men on the horses (about 5 of them) all nod at each other, and then charge, barely missing Marla. They then draw their bows, that seem to have come out of nowhere, and fire into the air. One lands a couple feet behind me, and after getting a closer look, it almost completely like the one that crashed through my car earlier. I didn't get much time to "analyze" it though, because the raiders had split up and 2 of them were on their way up the stairs. Good news: They weren't on a homicidal massacre, they just wanted money. Bad news: They still had guns meaning that they were still dangerous. Also, one of them was heading right for us. I mean, as much as it would've been cool to be a hero, I wasn't about to risk my life over some cash, so I just ran for it, assuming that all they wanted was the money. Long story short: I was wrong. One of them saw me, hopped off his horse, and almost clotheslined me. Instinctively and without thinking, I grabbed one of the obsidian arrows from before, spun around and stabbed him right in the chest. I let go of the arrow and for a second, we both just look at each other until "poof!" He turns into dust. I glance around, see no other raiders, and know that they must've split. I look down at the pile and say "Well, that's not normal." Al walks up to me and replies "No. Definitely not."