Its weight pressed down deep upon my coat. The metallic scent of it diluted my senses, and for once I felt some manner of discomfort from my actions. No, not discomfort, but a feeling. It was a perplexing feeling that at its surface was discomforting. I knew this man, he was Father's friend, Alexander. We'd known each other once, in a past life as it felt.
Unlike the others I had seen what he had become. The others were content to allow a true beast to remain. To allow the dead of the last Hunts to be perverted for his own gains. For his own power. What could I have done? The disquiet in my breast nigh allowed me to stand still. How could my friends let this happen? Why did they allow their families to change? To gain entrance to the dungeons? To learn some semblance of the truth? To go...
Deeper
We all felt the call, to learn what was found in the dungeons. Alexander; however, proved that going deeper wasn't the answer. If only he was able to see reason. If only he had felt what I felt then and now. Bliss in my actions. Bliss in the truth of the world. I hadn't excepted it to feel so melancholy, we were always told that bliss was pure happiness. Instead all I felt was relief and peace of mind.
I gripped my rifle spear and pulled it from the base of Alexander's neck. His breath still hampered by the blood he was choking on. I turned and saw the bodies of my brothers. Of my sisters. Those who were called to the dungeons and would have stopped at nothing to enter them. All I knew now was that the true hunt had just begun.
YOU ARE READING
Midnight's Rancor
HorrorWhen I was younger I was told of the nights when men and women would gather to face the beasts. To face the Hunt. The same Hunts my father and brother were claimed by it. The Hunt that will claim me now. May the moon grant me eyes, and by the Blood...
