Prologue

A selection must be made by the Benefactor of the five hunters

This story starts with a good intention, as all stories tend to do.

 

Good intentions are often found overrated. They are said to be what paves the road to hell, and meant to be converted into terrible sins eventually. But in this story's case, a good intention is a simple good intention, started in a simple day by a simple person.

 

This said simple person was soon to be the benefactor of five people that had no idea what kind of help was coming their way. They'd been chosen carefully, after months of research and meddling and spying, until it was sure they were the ones the Benefactor wanted to start a business with.

 

Business wasn't perhaps the best word to describe what this was. It was more like an opportunity for the five of them, an opportunity to do what they were already doing, but with the Benefactor's financial help. And perhaps not only financially, considering the benefactor would provide them with more information about what they thought they already knew.

 

The Benefactor knew a lot of things, knew about what was really going on out there in the world. Sure, the five chosen youngsters knew about it, too, but in slight amounts. Not like the Benefactor did.

 

The Benefactor knew about the monsters lurking in the shadows, had seen them poking their heads in the living world, staying past their time when they shouldn't. The benefactor had seen the possessions, the killings, the hauntings, had seen enough to know that something needed to be done about it.

 

Ghosts were bed-time stories told to scare the children. For the skeptic ones, they were the unreal, the aberrations of the kids and the adults dumb enough to believe them. Ghosts were and kept on being simple myths. No one knew about the truth in every story they heard, no one knew that fiction wasn't really fiction, no one knew what happened every new moon, when the monsters came out to dance on graves and taunt the living.

 

The Benefactor had started as a curious mind. And curiosity had turned into searching. And searching had turned into proof. And proof had turned into facts. And facts had turned into belief. The story of how the Benefactor had gotten to know was a long one, and no one should be bothered with long, useless stories. The Benefactor just knew.

 

There were skeptic people out there, or people who thought they knew but didn't. And then, there were the hunters. The ones who knew, but not everything.

 

As far as the Benefactor was aware, there were few hunters in the United States, and they were scattered all over the country, jumping head first into danger and dying, mostly, or getting possessed. There were a lot of skilled ones, but separately, they were not as strong. They were few and alone and untrained. And they needed help, just as the Benefactor needed to help them.

 

And that is how the good intention had begun. With the Benefactor wanting to start an A Team of the hunters. It had sounded silly at first, to gather a few of them and convince them to work together, to start some sorts of business and help people who were desperate or open minded enough to ask help from a team of Ghostbusters wannabe. But as the Benefactor thought it through, it started to make sense.

 

Monsters were made to be hunted. Hunters were made to hunt. People were made to ask for help if ever dealing with these kinds of issues. And the Benefactor was ready to make a change and use all that knowledge.

 

The good intention turned into an idea. And an idea turned into a plan. But plans needed time, so the Benefactor gave it just that.

 

Time was given into finding the perfect candidates. Time was given into doing some research about them. Time was given into coming down to five.

 

A lot of time was given into this grand plan. But once the Benefactor was sure that an A Team had been founded, no more time could be wasted into gathering them together.

 

A certain Jessica Ward, the Benefactor's right hand, had helped at this finding and researching and eliminating. She had spent months going in the right places and asking the right questions, until eventually, the five lucky ones had been found. And the day she came into the Benefactor's house and thrown five files on a desk, with a smug smile on her face, was the day the Benefactor knew it was time to act.

 

 

~Soundtrack: The Heavy �" Same Ol'~

 

 

"Here they are," Jessica said, still smiling. "Come on, open the files. Look at your chosen ones."

 

And the Benefactor did.

 

The first file had a picture attached in the left corner of the first page. Male. Young. Blue eyes. Dark blond hair. The Benefactor instantly liked him, before he read the rest of the file. This one seemed smart.

 

"Seth Hart," Jessica spoke, looking at the file over the Benefactor's shoulder. "Birthday, 20 September 1987. Place of birth, Platteville, Wisconsin. Parents: Scarlett and Noel Hart, both deceased."

 

"Hunter?" the Benefactor asked, reading the details of his years in college, of his other siblings and everything else there was.

 

Jessica nodded. "He and his sister as well. She's in there, too. They both picked up the hunting life after their parents' death. You can guess how they died. "

 

The Benefactor indeed could.

 

"The father got possessed one night, after they had just moved in a new house in Madison. They were just unpacking their bags, when Mr. Hart went to the kitchen and returned 'with a strange look in his eyes', as the brothers have told the journalists. He had a knife in his hand, and before anyone could register what was happening, he killed the mother. The kids got scared, he was coming after them. So, Harley, Seth's sister, tried to wiggle the knife out of the man's hand and well…" she trailed off, swallowing hard. These stories weren't something to digest that easily. "She stabbed him. Self-defense, she told the police."

 

The Benefactor shrugged Jessica off. There was no reason for her to tell the rest the story. The kids saw something, didn't know what, and started looking into it. And looking into it turned into finding out about the supernatural, hence picking up the hunting life.

 

"Why him and his sister?" the Benefactor asked.

 

"They've been hunting for years now, sold the parents' house, all that jazz, and lived off stealing. They only have each other. They're skilled, strong, smart, decent people. What more do you want?"

 

Indeed it seemed so.

 

The Benefactor picked up Harley's Hart file and read. Date of birth: 29 April 1990. Place of birth: Platteville, Wisconsin. Her photo showed a young and beautiful, green-eyed and light brown-haired woman.

 

They both looked like the perfect candidates.

 

The Benefactor picked up the third file and was greeted with the smiling face of a young male, eyes light green and hair blond. Date of birth: 20 August 1991. Place of birth: Los Angeles, California. He indeed looked like a Californian.

 

"Ryder Junior Rhodes," Jessica said. "Parents, Matilda and Ryder Senior, both alive, both own a couple of law firms in Los Angeles. He has a younger sister, Cecilia, who's 10 years old now, and had an older brother, Carter, who died a few years ago. They were your average white, rich family. He and Carter joined the U.S Armed Forces, Carter when he was 21 years old, and Ryder when he was 20, both recruits. Before Ryder could get to the AIT training courses, though, he dropped out, at 23. Apparently, a few days after his brother died on the front, Ryder claimed he saw his ghost in his cabin. And no later or sooner after everyone told him he was crazy and that he should calm down, he dropped out of the army. The rest is history. He disappointed his parents, was considered a lunatic by everyone he'd ever known and had nothing to turn to. Nothing but �""

 

"The hunting life." the Benefactor finished. It was all the same, every story. Tragic deaths, desperation, loneliness and eventually, looking for answers that led to hunting.

 

Jessica nodded. "He's been hunting for two years, all on his own. The guy is good at hiding his traces. He doesn't keep in touch with anyone from his old life."

 

The Benefactor put the file away. Jessica had picked well so far.

 

The fourth file held the photo of an Asian, young girl, dark hair and brown eyes. Abigail Morrison, the Benefactor read. Pretty fragile looking, surprisingly enough, and so unlike the other girl, Harley Hart, who'd seemed tough and strong. Date of birth: 21 February 1990. Place of birth: Unknown. Biological parents: unknown. Places lived: orphanage in California until she'd been adopted when she was 3 years old, by Christine and Cordon Morrison.

 

"Why her?" the Benefactor inquired. "She doesn't look like a hunter."

 

"She's not," Jessica smiled, as if she was proud of herself. "She's a computer girl, graduated Yale and everything and worked for a company in New York in the MIT section. I thought we might need a hacker."

 

The Benefactor had to admit, it was well thought.

 

"How does she know about hunting?"

 

"Well," Jessica sighed. "She dated her boss in that company, Ahmed Kattan, for a couple of years. Until one day they decided to do something 'reckless and dangerous' and go in the abandoned wing of the company, since they'd heard some stories about it being hunted by the ghost of an ex-employee who'd committed suicide by jumping off the window of that floor. So they went there, like they'd never seen a horror movie in their lives, and naturally, her boyfriend got possessed. He attacked her and she barely got to scream for help before some guards showed up and shot him. Of course, that didn't kill the ghost, but it killed Ahmed. She quit her job soon after, and like the others, she started looking for answers. She doesn't have experience in hunting, but she would be of good help by tracking cases and everything else we might need, technology-wise. Right now she's just living in a small apartment in New York, searching everything about ghosts and possession. Figured we might lighten her up and get her to join, while the wound is still fresh."

 

"Good thinking, as always, Jessica."

 

The Benefactor picked up the fifth and last file, and saw Jessica frown a little.

 

"Now this guy," she said while the Benefactor looked through the file. "He's our problematic favorite."

 

Logan Freeman, the file said. And the picture attached was of a young man, age around 24 or 25, with long, dark hair and narrowed eyes, who, unlike the others, had a mugshot as a profile picture.

 

"You brought me a criminal?" the Benefactor questioned.

 

Jessica clicked her tongue. "Not quite. He gets out of jail next week."

 

"What did he go to jail for?"

 

"Grave desecration. He got three years. Care to guess what he was doing digging a grave?"

 

The Benefactor sighed and answered. "Exorcising the bones."

 

The only way hunters knew how to get rid of a ghost, once and for good, was to dig the grave and perform an exorcising incantation on the bones of the deceased, before spraying them with holy water and burning them. The Benefactor had heard of other hunters getting caught during grave-digging, and now, that included Logan Freeman.

 

So, slightly curious, the Benefactor kept reading. Date of birth: 27 November 1988. Place of birth: St. Cloud, Minnesota. Parents: dead at the edge of 36 and 33, when Logan was 3. He'd been raised by a certain Uncle Isaac, until, 4 years ago, he'd passed away, too.

 

"His parents got killed by ghosts," Jessica explained. "And since then, this Isaac Morrison took care of the kid while picking up the hunting life, since he'd been a witness to Logan's parents' death. He and the kid lived on the roads since then, and at 16, Logan picked up his own gun and started hunting. They were both family and partners, until, when Logan was 24, his uncle got possessed during a hunt. And Logan had to put the man down himself."

 

Even the Benefactor could feel the goosebumps raising at the thought of someone killing his only remaining relative.

 

"And since then, he'd hunted on his own. Until, like I said, he got careless one day and was arrested. Next week his sentence is completed and he's a free man. With no one to turn to, no one to hunt with. Just as much of a desperate soul as the others, maybe more."

 

"Why him? Why let anyone who's careless enough to get caught by the police in our team?"

 

"Because," Jessica smiled. "He's the toughest. He's like the Hulk to your Avengers. A brute, perhaps, but he's been through a lot. He managed so many years on his own, and so far, he's got more years of hunting experience than the others."

 

"Well, my dear Jessica," the Benefactor put down the fifth and last file. "You truly did a remarkable job. I will not even ask how you know all of these things about them. It doesn't matter anyway. You got them all."

 

"So, you're saying you're ready to become the benefactor of these poor souls?"

 

The Benefactor finally returned Jessica's victorious and proud grin.

 

"I most certainly am."

 

And the good intention turned into an operation.

 

A few days after the recruiting, Jessica Ward went to each and every one of the five hunters in private and talked to them about the great days that were soon to come if they were to join the Benefactor's cause.

 

And the Benefactor had been right. They were too desperate to say no.

 

So this was, from the beginning, a story that starts with a good intention.

 

So hold your breath and count your sins and get ready. Because it starts like this.