I trudge down the broken footpath, my Doc Martens heavy on the cold asphalt. I look up. Just under the rim of my hood is the bus stop. About time. I sit, waiting for the bus. The chill morning air makes my breath turn foggy. The road is still damp from the rain last night and there is frost forming on it. My journeys to work are usually more eventful than this. I am Drew Vinyards, a part time waiter at the Blue Moon Cafe. The other part of my time I am Drew Vinyards, Forward Scout of the Lycanthrope Initiative. We are a collection of lycanthropes, or werecreatures, and we are at war with the faeries. Not fairies, as in little girls with butterfly wings, but faeries, as in the magical folk of the world, all kinds of magical folk. Caught in the middle of our war are the humans. The neutrals, the intermediaries, and the innocents all, humans are as much a part of our war as either of our two sides. They have a fancy title too, would you believe? There are a group of humans called Shadowhunters, which act as a kind of magical police force, breaking up our fights with the faeries and making sure that our war does not spill into the general public. Oh, the mayhem that would cause...
I hear an engine from somewhere in the morning mist. I stand up, ready to stick my hand out to signal the bus driver. I peer into the mist, looking for headlights. The bus erupts out of the fog, coming straight for the bus stop at break-neck speed.
Damn. Trust Drew Vinyards to get the homicidal bus driver.
I dive out of the way of the bus, just in time. It slams into the bus stop, totally leveling it. It then proceeds to smash into the building behind it, the sound of metal on stone grinding in my ears. The bus' engine explodes, sending a fireball up into the sky. I grimace, knowing whats coming next.
Three men in dark clothes step out of the bus, their faces masked.
"Drew Vinyards. We have come for you." intones the leader, a man wearing a black skull mask, the grinning visage meaning to unnerve me slightly.
Shadowhunters.
I have no more time to think as the other two rush me, pulling long daggers from hidden sheaths on their forearms. The first thrusts at me, the length of metal rushing at my abdomen. I grab the man's arm and twist, breaking his grip on the weapon. I then proceed to throw the man at the side of the bus. He strikes the window of the vehicle, going through and out of sight. I turn back just as the other man goes to strike. I catch his upraised arm and punch him twice in the stomach. I hear his breath whoosh out of him as my blows drive the wind from his lungs. I wind up and kick him in the side of the head. He hits the ground, unconscious. I turn to the leader, who still has not moved. I laugh.
"Your lackeys seem to be a bit slack today! I hope you can give me a bit more of a challenge..." I beckon at him.
His expression unreadable behind his mask, the remaining Shadowhunter raises his arm, holding up a pistol crossbow. I have not time to react before he fires it, the bolt whistling through the air, then punching into my chest and knocking me backwards. My muscles seize up, the paralysis spreading from the bolt protruding from my torso. My mind dims, my vision going dark.
Silver-tipped bolts... is all I have time to think before I black out entirely, the man's laugh echoing through my skull.
