The Hunter Becomes The Hunted

Chapter 4 (Set in Jesse's P.O.V.)

His boots dragged along the dark room. Leather sloshing as rainwater and mud weighed them down. Water seeped from the leather boots onto the floor, pooling around in murky puddles before absorbing into the dry wood. His trenchcoat followed behind him like rain chasing rain clouds, the drops audible to everyone in the room. Jesse shrugged off his trenchcoat and looked up at the men and woman looking at him with waiting eyes.
Jesse slipped a fat cigar out from his trouser pocket and struck a match on the wooden beam next to him, lighting the cigar and lighting up his eyes, highlighting his wrinkles and small scars that littered his face. Jesse slowly sat down on an old, rickety wooden chair and sat back against the stiff wheat padding, puffing out a bright white cloud from his chapped lips.

His eyes scanned over his little army. Six in total standing in front of him, seven including himself.

The first two were brothers from the East, a country floating on water from the sound of it.

One, the oldest brother - Hanzo was his name - was an archer, able to shoot through arrows he had already fired and split them in half and he was able to draw back arrows with such speed and grace. His hair was always tied back into a tight ponytail, his graying hair falling short with the long strand of raven black hair that hangs in front of his face. He always has a disappointed yet determined look on his aging bearded face.

The other brother - Jesse believed his name was Genji - stood just a few hairs short of his older brother by was in no way less than equal with him. Genji was a swordsman, a blade so sharp that it could split hairs and has yet to scratch or shatter. Scars littered his face and body, they were old but they were still haunting figures of his past now painted permanently on his pale skin.

Next was the retired guardsman. He was taller than the oldest brother from the East by a good height, but not as broad and muscular. His name was Jack and he reigned from a small farm outside of the wealthiest village here. Guards were now being drafted after most were sent out for war and never returned, so Jack and his brothers were drafted and served inside of the village walls before Jack had retired at a healthy age. He had scars over his face and chest from a battle with a bear that he had won, but they would remind him forever that he was only human.

Looking behind Jack stood a hulking monster of a man with a booming voice sitting inside of thick iron armor, a heavy hammer sat next to him. Jesse caught the warrior using such a thing as a dancing partner. Jesse barely got the name Reinhardt with his large tone, his ears feeling as though they were bleeding. The man was built like an ox, strong rippling muscles and one hell of a stubborn head in his broad shoulders. The man once lived in the mountains, and he declared he remembered the way to the Count's castle...

But that brought Jesse's gaze down to the dwarven man at Reinhardt's feet, the round dwarven man sitting up against Reinhardt's shin looking as if he had eaten a large meal and was ready to go back to sleep. He was missing an eye and half an arm, from a dragon fight or something, Jesse couldn't remember. The small man could build like nobody else, and some rumors even mentioned he could drink and spit out lava without getting hurt. Torbjorn was his name and he made sure everyone one foot taller than him knew that by shouting it at the top of his lungs. He claimed he knew the mountains better than anyone, even Reinhardt as he still lives there with his wife and children.

And speaking of wife, Jesse's eyes finally landed on the aging woman sitting in a chair with one leg crossed over the other. He could spot white hair covering her missing eye. All he knew was that it was a fight with a spider, he didn't get all of the details and frankly, he was a bit too afraid to ask again. Ana was her name, she spoke like any mother would, sternly yet kindly. Her head was loosely wrapped and her body was cloaked with her robes. She was skinny but hell if she wasn't dainty, there were stories surrounding that woman that she doesn't go down without a fight.