The Hunter's Pride

The eeriness of the empty streets is unsettling as we trudge on. Every step we take seems amplified in the haunting silence that engulfs us. Jenna swiftly scales a nearby tree, binoculars in hand, and surveys the area.

"It's a bit weird up ahead," she calls out, her voice slicing through the quiet. "All the buildings are intact, but everything on the streets is burned down. There are dead bodies everywhere."

I grimace. Ugh, why are we so unlucky? As much as I want to be a hero and impress everyone, I can't risk their lives over my ambitions. Observing Jenna, I marvel at her poise and leadership. Plus, she has all this hunting equipment?

"Hey Jenna," I call out, trying to make my voice sound casual. "How do you have all this equipment?"

She smirks, fluidly descending the tree with grace. "I'm a hunter," she says, dusting herself off. "I was looking for someone in the city."

She scratches her cheek, looking slightly perplexed. "I honestly don't know who I was looking for. My client just gave me a brief description to work with. I think it might be a relative of hers."

My mind races. The term 'hunter' is loaded with implications. She could be an actual animal hunter, or she might specialize in tracking down people. But there's another category of hunter that comes to mind—a title spoken of with respect and fear. I recall the tales my mother used to share about her meetings with the legendary "Hunters." They are said to carry an artifact, a gift from some faraway land or earned through an incredible feat.

I halt my steps, approaching Jenna. I lean in, whispering urgently, "Are you a Hunter Vanguard?"

She raises an eyebrow and then laughs, her voice echoing in the silent street. "It's not really a secret, you know. But yes, I am one."

This revelation stuns me. No wonder she seemed so calm amidst the chaos of the monster horde earlier. But something nags at my mind. "Wait, why didn't you use your artifact against the monsters?"

She sighs and displays her wrists. Two devices, snugly fitted, reflect the minimal light around us. "Whenever we Hunter Vanguards visit this city, we have to wear these devices that limit our senses and abilities. Our artifacts are kept outside the city's limits."

I blink, trying to process her words. "That sounds... intense. Isn't it a bit much? Hunter Vanguards aren't godlike or anything, just extremely well-trained."

Jenna chuckles, "If I manage to step out of this city, these devices will deactivate on their own."

I mull over what she's said, then venture a question that's been burning in my mind, "So, without those, how strong are you?"

Her eyes twinkle, and a wicked grin spreads across her face. "I may not be a superhero, Draken, but if I get my artifact? I'll undoubtedly be stronger than you."

My heart races at her proclamation. The road ahead may be fraught with danger, but having a Hunter Vanguard in our midst? Our chances of survival just shot up significantly.

I hold my face and laugh. "And here I thought I could be the hero."

Jenna pats my shoulder as she tells everyone to start moving. "Trust me, you've been a great help." She stretches her arms. "When I heard about abilities, I thought maybe it was the government experimenting on people. I didn't think much of it." She then points at me, her eyes piercing. "However, you proved that it's in fact a weird phenomenon. Thanks to you, I now know that I have an ability; I just don't know how to use it."

I can't help but smile, my chest puffing out with pride. "Of course. To think I helped out a hunter."

Our group continues walking, and the mood turns somber. The silence between Jenna and me grows heavy. Everyone else lags behind us, and it feels strange being in the lead, separated from the group. I wish I could talk to the others, but the distance makes it impossible. There goes my chance to show off and relish the moment.

I turn to Jenna, trying to change the topic. "By the way, Jenna. Traveling the seas... how is it on the other side?" Not many people have dared to cross the oceans, given its reputation. Ferocious marine life, aggressive birds, everything out there seems intent on tearing travelers apart. I've heard the stories. It's a literal warzone.

Jenna pauses for a moment, then rubs her chin thoughtfully. "It's... the best way to describe it would be 'a different world.' Different cultures, people, animals. It's incredible, really."

My eyes widen at her words. "Traveling there has always been a dream of mine," I confess. "The reason I'm so built is due to my ambition to become stronger, strong enough to journey across the sea." I sigh, letting my gaze wander. "Who would've thought an apocalypse would happen?"

Jenna nods, her expression sympathetic. "Life is unpredictable."

Suddenly, the ground beneath our feet trembles. It starts as a faint rumble, but within seconds, it grows more intense. The buildings around us sway, and I can hear the distant sound of glass shattering.

Jenna and I exchange worried glances. "That wasn't just a quake," I murmur. She nods in agreement, her eyes darting around, trying to identify the source.

The ground trembles, the ominous rumbles growing louder and more frequent. As the distant sounds of destruction draw nearer, my gaze sharpens, scanning the horizon. A chilling sight emerges from the dust: a grotesque creature floats above the ground. Its entire form seems to be made of an undulating mass of flesh, parts of it pulsating and shifting. It's a monstrous, nightmarish blend of matter. And the eyes, God, the eyes! They cover its body, unblinking and filled with malice. Each one varies in size, from as small as a coin to as large as a dinner plate. The irises gleam in different shades, and each seems to focus on a different target, granting the beast an almost omniscient gaze.

"Shit, what the fuck is that!?" I exclaim, my voice breaking slightly. The sheer terror I feel sends a jolt of adrenaline through my body.

Jenna throws a glance over her shoulder and swears, "Fuck, everybody run! Make sure not to lose each other!" Her eyes narrow in recognition and anger, "Dammit, this fucker again."

Recognition? My mind races, trying to keep up with everything that's unfolding. "Have you seen this thing before?" I ask, panic edging into my voice as we sprint, the sounds of the creature's havoc growing louder behind us.

"I don't know, it's a monster for crying out loud!" She yells, leading us around a sharp corner. "All I know is that it likes to torment us."

The group's pace is starting to falter. Their heavy breaths echo my own fears. We can't keep this up forever. The others look like they're at their limits. We need to do something, fast. "Jenna, we have to lead it away from them!"

She takes a deep breath, sweat streaming down her face. "It's not that easy! That thing... it's smarter than the others."

A reckless idea takes hold. If there's one thing I've learned about monsters, especially those with a bit of intelligence, it's that they're easily provoked. My ability surges to life, adrenaline fueling my power. My muscles bulge and harden, strength flooding my limbs.

"Hey, you fucking dog turd!" I roar. Grunting with effort, I heave a nearby broken-down car off the ground and hurl it towards the beast. The creature responds with surprising agility, a wiggly, fleshy appendage extending and effortlessly deflecting the car.

Jenna pelts the creature with a chunk of rock, hitting one of its many eyes. I seize the opportunity to taunt it further. "You're just a little bitch! You pathetic piece of dog shit abandoned by your mother. I bet you're too retarded to even dream of catching me."

For a brief moment, the world seems to stand still. Jenna stares at the creature, its multitude of eyes focusing on us with a burning intensity. "Oh... yeah, let's run."

Our feet pound the pavement, the terrifying creature hot on our heels. Jenna yells at me, breathless, "Why did you anger it so much?!"

"I didn't know it could understand us!" I shout back, regret and fear mixing in equal measure.

★  ★  ★  ★  ★

The delightful tremor of the city streets beneath my formless mass resonates like a beckoning call. As I float above, my countless eyes lock onto them, relishing the sight of my prey scrambling in terror. Every twitch, every desperate gasp, serves to whet my appetite.

Hmhmhmhmhahahahaha! Their desperation! The very essence of their fear makes me quiver with excitement. My grotesque form, a dance of eyes and flesh, pulsates with malevolent glee.

I had thought this feast would be just another taste, but boy, oh the boy, his defiance offers a flavor so rich, so exquisite. I want to wrap him in my tendrils and draw out every last drop of his fear. Jenna, and her group, they're like a well-aged wine, each of them giving off their own unique tang of terror.

With a slow, deliberate motion, I extend a fleshy tendril, feeling the moisture of the air, and "lick" the atmosphere, tasting their fear, savoring every bit of it. "So... delectable," I murmur in a guttural hiss.

The ground trembles purposefully, announcing my impending feast. Every note of their dread fills me with anticipation. I revel in their agony, their hopelessness. Their combined fear is a banquet to my senses.

The boy's audacity to challenge me sends waves of amusement through my being. Hmhmhmhmhahahahaha! The sheer audacity! The promise of breaking such spirit is a delicacy I cannot ignore.

As the girl and boy desperately try to evade me, my laughter echoes through the desolate streets, a chilling reminder of their inescapable fate. Their hope, their plans, it's all so... entertaining.

From the very core of my being, I feel the pull—a gravitational force of fear and anxiety that draws me in. My myriad of eyes fixate on the living; their frantic breaths and trembling hearts are an irresistible invitation.

Yet amidst this feast of fear, a peculiar emotion emanates from one—the boy. His defiance, oh, it's like a rare delicacy in an otherwise sumptuous feast. Most intriguing of all is how he attempts to rally his comrades with false bravado. It's pathetic but endearing.

As I drift closer, savoring every ounce of dread they exude, the boy does something unexpected. His voice booms, challenging me directly. My countless eyes narrow in unison. He speaks words of derision, mocking and demeaning. My entire form ripples with intrigue and displeasure.

Without warning, he hefts a massive hunk of metal—an automobile—and hurls it towards me. My form reacts, tendrils stretching out and batting the object away with ease. Yet the sheer audacity of his challenge intrigues me. What fuels this human's defiance? Such brazenness is not commonly found in my prey.

The girl joins in his revolt, slinging a rock that collides with one of my countless eyes. It stings, but the pain is fleeting, an afterthought in the grand symphony of their terror.

But the words... Oh, the words he chooses to sling my way—those sting far more than any physical projectile ever could. He dares belittle me? Mock my form? Insinuate that I'm some rejected, inferior being? The caustic sting of his words seeps into my psyche, melding with the tantalizing aroma of his fear. You livestock don't know a thing. Pathetic beings, this form is not a choice you inferior species. 

A surge of emotion rises within me, a mixture of anger, indignation, and amusement. He thinks he can insult me? Does this morsel believe he can stir my wrath and escape unscathed? Hmhmhmhmhahahahaha! How delightful! I've been getting bored with all the easy prey, resistance only makes you taste sweeter when all hope is lost.