The hunter or the hunted

The hunter or the hunted

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Wed, Oct 30, 2024
Living a life thickly masked in mystery and ruled by what some would say lucky chance, Alex Lythorn has is all. He has great taste in life and connections to have it. He has money, a skill set above and beyond the call of duty, a wife to rival any goddess and power, and more than just the power of being the CEO of a large finance empire. An empire with more than a few skeletons in its closet. Skeletons hunted by Alex. But in the end game result Alex is still the last of his kind. He denies it with a passion and has become the hunter. By doing so he has also betrayed his world. What lies ahead of him is unknown and more shrouded in shadows than the trouble streaked streets of New Orleans which he calls home at the foot of his journey. What will he do when this grim shadow knocks on his doors? Time now for his instinct of fight or flight to be tested. And for him to finish what he started all those many years ago.
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It was supposed to be his last day on the job. Unluckily for Killjoy, this crazed, cannibalistic beast tried to make it his last day on Earth. Killjoy had taken this god-forsaken mission for a little bit extra money before he would quit. He was tired. The middle-aged bounty hunter had etched his name across American mythos after decades of killing, gunslinging, and doing dirty work for one too many fat, greedy pigs. It was easy work, but the man can't get any older after years of doing it. And with a wife at home who he visited only so many times he could them on his one hand, and a daughter whose face he can barely remember year to year, it was time to hang up the boots. But when he is told about one job that could potentially set not only himself and his family for life, but for generations to come, Killjoy decides to screw it and do one last mission. The money he made was good, but not enough to last them. The reward? The deed to a gold mine. And the job? To investigate some desolate woods for missing people. It was as easy as they came. What a load of crap. The second Killjoy stepped foot into those forests, he knew something was not right. Desecrated bodies, the eerily empty mines and woods devoid of any light or humans, and the gnawing hunger that grew in him no matter how much he ate through his rations. Something was not right. And when Killjoy laid his eyes on it, he knew it was either fight or die.

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