Bred For Extinction

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The three figures stare long at the autumn sun as the red disc sinks, casting tones of purple and burgundy across the horizon. Shadows slowly begin to stretch from the landscape, overtaking the day-lit world, giving birth to night with its thick blanket.

Cadell's face is unemotional as his words come; "You seem calm for your first Hunt?"

Fingers stroke Mochan's thick mustache as eyes scan the darkening landscape, "What should I fear? I have no idea what to expect. What could be coming? If this is what I was meant for, so be it, anything is easier than the past."

Sorcha's stern tones jump in, "What to expect...is hell."

A chuckle rises in Cadell's throat as he finally turns his head to Mochan, "Sorcha tends to be a bit over-dramatic, even in her hunting."

The woman eyes narrow to slits as her voice quickly fires back, "Just because you don't like my style..."

"Style...woman, you have no style...you have never learned control, nor never taught it to your pack, you will regret that one day....but that is not my concern now," he again focuses the conversation to Mochan as Sorcha fumes. "I have seen your fury, it is great, but you have powers you never dreamed of...and you must learn to master them. The best way I know to help you is to tell you what they are...and for you to practice their use as we hunt. Our hunts are a simple thing. We have our territory, as large as it may be. The caravan in whom we travel hides our true purpose as we move from town to town. We stay long enough until the hunting is scarce, and then move on to the next town. But we stay within our territory, for there are other packs that control other areas and mark them just as we mark ours. Rowane mentioned how our senses are beyond normal. They are essential in our hunts...when you need their power, simply try to focus on your senses and let them take over...drink deep of the signs that present themselves... they will guide you well."

Sorcha shakes her head as a frown pounces to her lips, "You make everything so boring Cadell," quickly taking over the exchange of words. "The important stuff is to know how we must kill the scourge, and what we gain when we do."

Mochan finally speaks after long silence, "What we gain?"

"Yes, what we gain," Sorcha continues, "there are only a few sure ways we have found to kill the vampire horde. To take their head, for a body is useless without its thoughts... to tear out and feast on the heart that pumps its vile blood....or to expose it to sunlight."

"What about all the myths? Crosses...holy water." Mochan digs for easy answers.

"Simply that...myths...they have no power...just stories to give hope to humans that could never stand a chance anyway," Cadell interjects.

"Now...for the fun part...what we gain." Sorcha's eyes grow round with excitement. "Our powers become stronger, our control better over our beast if, and only if, we feast constantly on the cold hearts of the vampires. With each meal, we grow stronger, better able to use all our powers, and prolong our life."

"Prolong?"

Cadell jumps back in, seizing control of the conversation, "We are not ageless, like our enemies. Some would call them immortal....I would not. To be immortal means you cannot die, and I have killed far too many to believe that. But still, they would never die from age. We, on the other hand do age....slow yes, but still we do.....the more you feed, the slower your body grows old. If however you don't feed at least once during the moon's cycle, your beast will come and take whatever he can for a meal...foe, friend, or family."

Mochan's face shows understanding even as he questions, "This is what has been happening to me...all this time?"

"Yes...but once you start to follow your true purpose, it will all become so much easier. There is one more area we should cover...that of your forms. We have three...each one aiding us when the time is needed. We have our human form...as we are now...like this we are undetectable to the vampire, seemingly just another human ready to be feasted on, yet we still have our powers. Our animal form of the wolf is helpful for speed, and of great value in many situations where a human would not be welcome. And lastly, we have our beast, the ultimate display of our fury and power. It is the hardest to control, but once mastered, unstoppable."

"And how do we control ...change?"

"It comes in time, the stronger you become, the more you feed...the easier it all is...even the ability to partially change a part or parts of your body....it just comes with time, concentration, experience."

"You have not mentioned the failsafe Cadell," Sorcha sends the remark like a slap to Cadell's cheek.

"Did I say I was finished?" His temper raises for a brief moment, then letting it pass, he continues, "Go on ...finish for me."

"Well, the failsafe is our last resort, but our best weapon," a smirk landing on her features as she takes over the instruction from Cadell. "Our blood is poison to the vampire horde. Should they try to feed from us, they will die...die in a screaming rage of pain. It is fun to watch...as they howl in agony. As long as they don't know what you are...and you are about to become a meal, relax and let them feed."

Mochan's eyes now stare off into the pitch black of the night, his mind flooded with all he has learned; yet wondering of one thing, "And the bodies...of the ones you kill, or of us...what becomes of them? It seems there would be many more found if this happens all the time."

Cadell grimaces with past memories, "Dust...once the life force is taken from us or them, we simply turn back to dust...We do not know why."

"And us...how do we die?"

"We share a common thread with the vampire there. While sunlight is no harm to our species, losing our head or our heart will end our days."

"Simply enough...in the end, its all kill or be killed, I guess." Mochan flashes his glance to each of his companions.

In unison, both answer strongly, "Better to kill." With that, all pause before nodding their heads and making their way off into the night. And so the first hunt begins, along with the legend of Mochan.