"Before Dawn"

Chapter 2: The Creeping Things

Without giving it any thought, Dawn rips a shot from her .22 as she spins around to face her hideous attacker. She misses. An innocent pine tree minding its own business catches the stray bullet. Still, she manages to deter the imp-man from running her through with his cane-sword. The imp-man flitters backward with that wide toothy smile, zig-zagging left and right, using the trees to shield himself and to throw Dawn's aim off.

It's working for him because Dawn is having a heck of a time lining up her sights. Her target is creating distance quickly, and will soon be out of the effective range of her .22.

Stay still, damn it!

Dawn advances with her pistol, minding her footing and doing her best to get a shot off as she moves. All she needs is one or two more shots to slow it down and kill it—she hopes. The imp-man is bleeding all over the place, and it's a wonder he's moving as well as he is. Dawn reckons it was the adrenaline—and fear of her killing him—that energizes his ugly-ass. No matter. He's wounded and monster-or-not, he will eventually succumb to blood loss and fade. Then he'd be the proverbial sitting duck, and then a dead imp-man. And Dawn will have her first kill, all on her own. Then the others would know that she could handle her business, a hunter of all things that lurk in the darkness. She can't wait to throw her victory back in their faces. Then, the imp-man said something that really got her heart pumping.

"Pleeeaaaaase. Don't kill me," the imp-man whimpers. His eyes are wide with fright, and that sickening smile on his grotesque face subsides ever-so-slowly.

Dawn witnesses the frightened-human side of him come to the surface of his combined visage. It isn't going to save him, though. In fact, his fear invigorates her. She holsters her .22, and unsheathes a wakizashi. There was no way she was not going to run her blade through this monster. It would make her hunt and kill even more impressive.

Oh, hell, yeah.

"Please don't. Let me go," The imp-man begs.

Dawn snickers, closing the gap. "Let you go? Really?" With a stroke of her short sword, she cut the branch of a pine tree from her path. Then another and another as she nonchalantly walked forward. "Let you go...so you can go and terrorize the world. Or eat animals. Or both."

The imp-man trips over a downed tree and stumbles backward, his arms flailing. His fluttering wings catch air to keep him from toppling over onto his back. "I won't...I won't... harm anyone...or anything. Please, just—"

With a disapproving grunt, another swipe of Dawn's blade severs a branch from its tree—and she unsheathes her other wakizashi to keep the other one company.

The imp-man turns and hauls ass, leaving a wafting trail of his stench behind him. The smell is ten times worse. Must be the fear. The odor was so bad that Dawn actually dry-heaved which is not the norm for her. She has a strong stomach.

Dawn—ready to officially make her first kill—quickens her pace. She doesn't feel the need to run, though. She's doing just fine catching up to the imp-man at the rate she's going. She feels like Jason Vorhees from all of the two-hundred Friday the 13th flicks. 'Ol Jason was always chill-walking toward his running-for-his-or-her-life-victims who never made it to the next sequel. She wonders if she'll be as creative with her short swords as Mr. Vorhees was with his machete. Granted, Friday the 13th was one of many scripted pieces of work about a serial killer on steroids. But her life is no screenplay, and the things she's being reared to hunt are not serial killers, but real-live monsters that require special attention.