In the Mind of a Predator

Every parent dreams of their child being a better version of themselves, someone who surpasses them as much as possible. That is the desire of every progenitor, simply put.

When most parents dream about their children's future careers, they recommend high-level jobs such as doctors or judges, as these professions would grant the status that many people respect.

A public official would also be fine; the highest aspiration would be to become a prosecutor or judge. But if you want honesty, no parent would want to see their children following a difficult path where they bleed and sweat to get food.

At least in the more developed modern world, outside the working-class world, that would be the wish of average families. However, in Ethan's case, everything was different.

"Son, become the best hunter in the world."

"That is your birthright."

These were the two sentences Ethan heard from his parents on his fifth birthday. After that, his father died, and surprisingly, those were also his last words before his journey to death, from which he never returned.

The second sentence came from his mother. She made sure he took charge of the family as the future, promising hunter who would exterminate vampires.

His mother cared for nothing but her doctrine. Ethan always remembered the many times he bled to become strong and never fear the supernatural things lurking in this world's darkness.

Although the family had no shortage of hunters, it was obvious they were losing their best men, so they expected Ethan, as the eldest son, to inherit the best hunting skills.

Bleeding in training was a sign of weakness; if Ethan bled, it meant he was still weak. If his senses didn't favor him, he could still be killed, and if his hand trembled while shooting, he wasn't ready yet.

"Should I kill that girl?"

"She has killed many people; she must be exterminated from this life as soon as possible."

"If I shoot her, will she die?"

"If you don't, she will keep killing. You end one life, and many more will survive. This is the food chain of the supernatural world."

"I don't want to do it."

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Ethan's response as a novice hunter was to refuse.

He didn't want to protect the world of idiotic humans; why should he be a hunter and care about the happy lives of structured families?

He was the one suffering, not them.

Why did he have to sacrifice his happiness?

Among his dozens of daring questions, Ethan remembered his mother's cold face, speaking to him worse than a dog, saying, "A man only takes the path given to him and questions nothing. You must be the hunting dog the family needs and follow the path our ancestors have bestowed upon us."

"I'm just a child..."

"No, you're not just a child; you have the lineage of ancient supernatural hunters. You are a Winchester, blessed by the blood of a spirit animal. That spirit will protect you, heal you when you're hurt, and give you strength when you need to kill."

Ethan didn't know what his body concealed when he heard these words, but knowing he was the valuable tool of the Winchesters and the best they had left, he had to do the right thing.

From that moment on, he was taught all kinds of ways to kill. Since then, he has been given the freedom to question no one about his methods as long as he has eliminated dark entities, the supernatural beings that have plagued humans since time immemorial.

Ethan gradually lost his other desires as a pampered child. He exchanged his stuffed animals for two pistols, one called Ebony and the other Ivory, both semi-automatic pistols modified from ancient times, designed solely to quickly fire bullets charged with demonic power and with infinite ammunition, capable of making charged shots and stopping the devil himself.

Only he could use them, something inexplicable since no one other than the family's ancestor could use the ancient weapons. This awoke the family's desire, and every weapon that couldn't be used by humans was passed to Ethan to wield.

A sword, shotgun, grenades, and even his bare hands were deadly weapons in Ethan's hands, who was considered, after five years, the future successor of the family.

"When will you stop sending me from one place to another like a damned tool?"

"When you're an adult, you'll be able to take on your own missions. The family won't interfere with your work and will care less about how you do it."

Years passed, and Ethan never told his family that using the ancestral weapons caused him traumas inherited from memories that weren't his, which the previous owner seemed to want.

But he didn't tell anyone this; he was alone from the beginning.

He vividly remembered how he killed an entire family of cannibalistic werewolves. They all died at Ethan's hands and were cruelly murdered.

They weren't his only victims; rapists and thieves also died at his hands and were tagged as fitting witnesses.

The Winchester family couldn't control Ethan, much less the hunters' association. Even the association of light, which predominates over all organizations, couldn't control him, so they were thinking of sending him away for a few years.

Ethan was seeking this; he wanted to get away from the killings for a while and live as peacefully as possible without obviously straying from killing supernatural creatures.

But that changed over time, to be honest. Ethan grew very resentful towards supernatural creatures when they killed his best friend; damn, it could be said she was his teenage girlfriend, and she, who hadn't decided her path either, was brutally murdered.

At that moment, Ethan felt angry, sad, and powerless. His family, who had designed his life to be what they wanted it to be, didn't care about him killing hundreds of supernatural creatures day after day. He killed them all regardless of whether they were good or bad; they all made his blacklist.

His mind only thought of continuing to kill, investigate more, and kill.

After more than 10 years like this, as an adult, he finally calmed down and decided to take a less bloody path.

Ethan stopped when his mother died, even though he never loved her and even hated her many times in his life. She was once again the start of a change.

"I can't cry, little sister," Ethan said, watching his mother's body meld into the flames.

Sarah, Ethan's sister, looked at his bloody knuckles. She was afraid of her brother, so she said nothing. She couldn't; she hadn't protected her older brother, had never served him in the absence of all the love he needed, and, to be honest, she cared little when she was younger.

"You can go wherever you want now."

"They'll send me to a town; I guess everyone is tired of covering all my cases."

'In this or my previous life, I couldn't have a happy family...'

Those ancestral weapons awakened memories of past lives. Ethan only remembered dying once, but it would be incorrect to say he had lived two lives because, in his previous experience, he was a teacher assigned to teach in a prison, where he was brutally stabbed.

Ethan worked hard to become a teacher, managing to reach that point in his life without family or resources, and it all vanished when he was killed by a group.

To be even more honest, he didn't remember his previous life until after he was twenty in this life. He recalled that when he remembered everything, he was about to die at the hands of an ancient vampire, and that was when he obtained those unpleasant memories.

Now he was here, in a world full of supernatural creatures, living in a way few could call human.

Ethan hadn't changed one bit; he only regained some aspirations he had lost after just killing supernatural creatures. In the end, he couldn't deduce whether this was his new life or if he was somehow affected by that vampire.

But now it doesn't matter...

Where was he?

Oh, yes, now at twenty-five years old, he was preparing to be a teacher at Beacon Hills High School as a little vacation.

"Open the textbook. Continuing from where we left off last time, I'll teach you how to stab a man without him uttering a word from his filthy, horrid mouth."

How did this happen?

Many simple things happened...

"Words stick better when written in blood," muttered a man laughing like a maniac, sitting in the train station.

A little girl watching the handsome man murmured, "Mom, that man scares me."

"I think we should call the police."

Ethan, who heard this, smiled and said while showing his ID from the secret service, "If you call the law, I'll be here. You can do it if I've truly disturbed you, mother and daughter. Ma'am, please go home and stop looking at me with that expression, or I'll give you the affection your husband hasn't given you."

"What nerve? I'll report you on social media."

"Ma'am, please, get out of my sight."