Chapter 1: Hunter

Nightmare Hunter (13)

Prologue:
'Here at the end'

A Powerful Moment.

A fabled moment that exists somewhere between heaven and hell,
A moment both

tragically, 

human. 

Beautifully, 

divine.

Here amid the pouring rain of this broken world;
engrave it upon your mind if you would:

The boy born of Darkness. 

His brother in all but Blood. 

They fight a bloody battle.
Here at the End.
The end of all things. 

Now, come, 

let us cast our eye back.

For, we must go back to the beginning;
 
If we are to find our end...
Enjoy.

*****

The great information age they are calling it.

A world of infinite communication.

Amidst this leviathan of vast hidden realms of data...

~you might find echoes of a pseudonym~

A shadowed alias solemnly spoken in reverent tones across hidden, private forums.

The anomaly of dubious and controversial origins know only as 
'Nightmare Hunter Number (13)'

Who or what it is?

Nobody knows.

But what they do know....

Is that If you can find them.

If you can follow those echoed whispers of data,

across algorithmic web and unto oblivion:

you can have someone;

~disappear~
-
*******

Passers by,

glance at the boy.

Not sure why they feel the sudden urge to run.
To cross to the other side of the street at the sight of him.

No rational reason finds them.

It's almost as though,

They'd laid eyes upon something that shouldn't have been.

A twisted anomaly that defied all laws of existence in the sane world.

like they were staring into the very pits of the abyss.

an abyss that stared back through the eyes of a child

As if the boy were a void.

A void that might tear open at any moment.

A nothing that would drag their world and its sanity kicking and screaming into black and twisted depths.

******

The boy Nightmare wandered the city.

Deep in thought.

He didn't mind being alone.

It had been so long.

He was used to it by now, and besides,

if people stayed away from him,

The way they did now.

At least he wouldn’t have to kill again.

**** 

(13)

Chapter:

001.13

~Hunter~

A scream.

Emanating from the depths of an alleyway, bathed in midnight shadow.

People pass.

People look.

And witness something truly horrifying.

~Someone should help her~

They don’t stop.
~Don’t want to get involved~

They never stop.

~The police are probably on their way right now~

Just another night in the streets of Melbourne city.

She see's them looking;

reaches out a bloody hand;

"help m-!" 

The man hits her,
"Quiet bitch!"

"you think those people out there give a fuck what happens to you!?"

He hits her again.
"Huh!?"

The man,

forces her to the ground,

grabbing her arm and twisting it.

She screams in terror and pain.

"This is your fault bitch,

no-one to blame but yourself, 

you think you can just leave me and that would be the end of it?" 

He hits her again.
 "Huh!?"

She struggles,

whipping about in terror fueled frenzy.

Pure fear and adrenaline coursing through her.

He hits her.

Hard this time.

She stops moving.

Barely conscious.

He pulls down her shirt exposing her chest to the night air.

"P-please..."

She slurs,

It hurt's to talk.

"Mark... No"

He just grins. 

"That's right bitch, 

beg my forgiveness" 
He hits her again

"That’s quite enough of that."

A figure in black stands,

illuminated in the alleyway entrance.

A large six-shot revolver leveled at the man.

"You. Ugly."

He thumbs the hammer

"Away from the girl."

From the sound of his voice he couldn't have been any more than 16 years old;

But its hard to tell as he's wearing a mask: 
Just a plain white thing,
a grinning mouth, black slits for eyes.

The man, having gotten over his initial shock at the boys appearance, gets up slowly.

Standing to his full height of at least 6 foot five.  

"You gonna shoot me kid?"

He advances until he's within arms reach.

The gun pressing into his chest just over the heart.

"Tell me boy...You ever murder-"

He's interrupted by a resounding crack.

The sound echoes infinitely within that confined space.

The smell of gunpowder fills the air.

   The boy had pulled the trigger.

The man looks incredulously down at the sinew and bone exposed by the gaping hole the 42. just put through his chest;
The girl fainting where she lay.

~Didn't think you would actually do it~

A voice not a voice,

 but what can only be described by my words alone as a wave of nightmare; 

as chaos incarnate;

a chaotic wave of echoed ripples that reverberate infinitely within the depths.

deep.

dark.

hidden.

depths.

of the human soul.

The thing reaches out, crushing the boys gun as though it were but a toy.

The figure in the mask looks up at it, "well, this is sure to be painful."

It cracks its knuckles,

"You have no idea, kid."

Its whole body writhes,

muscles contracting, twitching,

skin falling in bloody rags to the floor and underneath...

a dark predator; a thing beyond all human conception of fear;

An apex shadow;

  Demoniac manifestation of nightmare itself.

The boy looks up at it.

"oh no, you misunderstand me,

I meant:

'painful for you'

not,

'painful for me' "

The thing freezes for a moment.

As though in the depths of its bestial, predatory mind it cannot comprehend

why it's prey has not run away yet.

"I was hoping I wouldn't have to get my hands dirty. but,

Fortunately for you, you didn't die from being shot.

Unfortunately for you, on the other hand.

In a few moments,
you are going to wish you had;

Because this is going to hurt.

This is going to hurt a lot.

And after what you have done to that poor girl over there,

I'm going to try not to enjoy this.

But I really wouldn't count on my success."

~The pits behind the boys mask glow with demoniac fury~

And the very essence of time seems to slow.

in twisted anomaly; an affront to existence itself.

As though the very intricacies of time and space had become slave to the boy's dark whim.

The masked monstrosity,

In the shape of a boy.

Plunges a hand through his adversaries chest,

Blood, bone and sinew easily giving way to demoniac strength and speed.

The thing that had masqueraded as 'Mark',

In its last few seconds of brain activity;

aware every second as its heart is ripped out and jammed down its throat.

Collapsing to the ground.

A great heap of dead muscle,

it's last thought before brain activity ceases completely:

'That it was probably one of few, if not the only being ever,

to find out exactly what it's own heart tasted like.'

************

The police pick Rachel up and take her to hospital.
The alley is a mess of unidentifiable blood and gore. 

Mark is never found.

They interrogate the girl once she is released.
But it goes pretty much the same way the others had:

'Memory hazy.'
'Heard the rumors.'
'Found the website.'
'Had contacted the vigilante when the police hadn't been able to help.'
And that same teary gratitude:
He asked for nothing.
He saved me.
He's a Hero.

Etcetera. Etcetera.

***********

(13)Chapter: 002.13 

Born of Nightmares

The man takes an old photograph from a draw,

wiping the dust away; that cloak of passing time.

A family. 
A beautiful, happy family.
A father, dark, ebon hair like his son.
Holds his boy up to blow out his candles,
A mother, sparkling blue eyes that watch on,
almost seeming to say:
This is all I'll ever need, right here.
The child,
blew out his candles, ate his cake, and 24 hours later,

killed his parents.

*************

Click for Capter:002.13~