Mallory's Father

Mallory's father tells her of his first kill and how he learned the ways of the Slayer

 

Mallory’s Father

 

 

 

Hank’s father taught him to give 100% of himself in everything he did, and he took that advice to heart, especially after a hunting trip bagged him his first deer and his first kill. The werewolf was closing in on his kill, half-starved from running from the two slayers tracking it. The fresh blood of the buck would allow it to gain strength, but Hank was not about to let anything steal his first twelve point buck. 

            He attacked the wolf like creature with a fury his father called nothing but fearless abandon. He snapped the creature’s neck with a decisive blow from a heavy branch and his father added the coup-de-grace with a shining silver plated hunting knife. 

            “That’s the spirit son, but with these creatures, you must stop the heart. Any pure metal will work, but silver makes the kill stick forever.  My father gave this knife to me.   Sheffield Silver and it is well over two hundred years old, but it cuts as well today as it did it was first made. You must take this knife now, and care for it diligently. It is our legacy, passed on from one to another since its creation, blessed by the Pope, cleansed by a Rabi, touched by the Spirit of the Sky. Never let it leave your side, until it is time to pass it on.”

            The two Slayers charged with taking this werewolf down arrived shortly after the kill. Both were older men, dressed in hunting outfits and both very tired from the chase. 

            “Matthew, sorry you had to back us up. This one was a bugger! This your boy, Hank?”

            “This is my boy,” Matt beamed proud to introduce his son to the older Slayers.

            The first Slayer gave Hank’s hand a hearty shake while he rested with his hands on his knees.

            “Nice to finally meet you. I’m Mort, short for Mortimer,” he said. “Nice touch, jumping that beast from behind.”

            “A pleasure,” the second Slayer interrupted with a wheezing voice. “Gentlemen, I bow to your greatness. I’m Valkire’, last of the order from my family. With no heirs of my own, I pass this to your son Matthew. I’ve slayed my last I fear.”

            “Valkire’, you shouldn’t speak so,” Matt protested. 

            “We must pass the secret to him quickly. We are ready to stop this quest. We both grow weary of the hunt, the chase and the kill. We are old ones Matthew and we need the fresh blood to take over.”

            Hank’s father and the two older Slayers passed the secret to him while waiting for the sun to pass overhead. While they field dressed the deer carcass, they told him all the secrets of the Slayers. Matthew told Hank of his past and of his father’s past as well.   

            He told his son about the art of slaying creatures of the night. Grisly details he did not spare, but told his son all the horrors of slayers past, present and even a few who might come. 

            “Boy, this ain’t pretty, but we do what we must. Creatures like this exist, we can see’em, most can’t till it’s too late and they are dying from their attacks. These creatures live with us, and most are okay. Not this one. Killed lots of livestock, and did it for sport. Killed a few homeless vets too, but not before tormenting them half to insanity. Nasty stuff from these things. Watch your step now son. They know you are a Slayer now and this is our lot in life.”

            Mallory’s father told her more of his childhood adventures as a Slayer, including his college days and the weekend werewolves took his parents.

Reviews

[Ice Queen of the Vampir..]

Another nice chapter. You're doing a marvelous job explaining everything and this story really has me intrigued. Great work!!!

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