Book Two Chapter Twenty Two: The Huntress

After stalking Nick for some time, Saja tracks him to an old manor. Inside the manor, Nick and his friends meet a quite sketchy old man.

Chapter Twenty Two The Huntress:

Unknown Location In The Countryside, Earth. Saja’s Point Of View.

 

Saja watched Nick and his friends get into the truck. They had been lucky, but the Kerulen could surely out run an automobile. Saja ran behind the Kerulen pack, observing Nick and his friends riding the car. They were wobbling all over the road, and it looked like one of them fell out, dangling over the side. She could have ran up and killed the person hanging out of the side any time she wanted, but she had to wait for the proper time. She didn't know why she waited when she could kill them almost whenever she wanted, she somehow knew that for some reason there was a better time to do it. Maybe because with the impending extinction of the human race, she wanted to enjoy the hunt before the kill, for she would soon not be allowed that privilege.

She ran on for a few more minutes, when she saw Kerulen starting to leap at Nick’s truck. Some commotion followed when one leapt into the back of the truck, but he was easily thrown out. Sometime later, a Kerulen tore off one of the back wheels, sending the truck into a barrel roll for a few seconds. She saw that a few of Nick's friends escaped, one did not. She ran at the car and beat the Kerulen there, grabbed the bow in the passenger seat, and feasted upon his sweet blood. Once she was finished feeding, she tore herself away from her kill, and saw that Nick and his friends were a few meters away, she was unseen in the darkness.

She then heard Nick yell something:

"Come any closer, and I'll burn you all!" She chuckled, as did a few other Kerulen.

When a few came closer, Saja heard a loud bang! That echoed through the countryside. A mere split second later, fire erupted from the ground all around her, she was trapped in the cab of the car. Though she knew she was probably immune to fire, she had not tested it yet. She looked over to the Kerulen, and saw that they were dying in the fire.

She was amazed. Could something as common as fire really be her weakness? Could it really be the weakness of the elite Kerulen? It was a possibility. She was fairly certain her former self was weak against fire, and since she essentially was her former self in a way, did that mean she too was vulnerable to fire? The thought was absurd, but totally possible. She watched through the flames as Nick and his friends ran off.

"Stop drop and roll boys!" yelled Nick tauntingly.

He and his friend’s disappeared into the night.

 

Unknown Location In The Countryside, Nick’s Point Of View.

 

We ran on, untroubled by the Kerulen horde at this point, though I was certain that they would be back for us soon. We were all starting to get tired, but we knew what would happen when we were to rest. We would die. Speaking of resting, when was the last time I had slept? It felt like days, or whatever was used to measure time in a world of eternal night. My rifle started feeling heavier and heavier in my arms. I was getting very tired, I was no longer immortal and invincible.

“Nick, are you going to be okay? You look tired.” Lisa said.

“I am, but I’ll be fine.” I assured her.

Anara muttered something under her breath.

“What was that?” I asked.

“It was nothing.” She said bitterly.

I was sick of her bitter and hateful attitude.

“Okay Anara, look. I’m sorry for your leg, I can never help you get it back, but I didn’t mean to do it! I didn’t press that button in Hemlon with the intent of crushing your leg! I pressed it with the intention of stopping Saja!” I yelled at her.

“Whatever.” She said, totally brushing me off.

“Do I even want to know what you’re talking about?” Eric asked.

“I don’t think so.” Lisa said.

“Hey, look!” Eric said, pointing ahead.

We saw a cabin at the top of a long driveway. It was on a hilltop. We ascended the hill. We went into the courtyard and came to a wrought iron gate. It was easy enough to get over, but I feared what would be waiting for us inside that house. Kerulen? Corpses? Kerulen corpses? The house was a big three floor mansion and stood looming on the hilltop. It was isolated from any other buildings. It looked like something straight out of a horror flick. We came to the door and I knocked on the door with the brass knocker. There was no sound of shuffling footsteps coming to open the door. I tried the door and it was unlocked. We opened the door and entered.

We came to an entryway, which was just a long hall. There were faded paintings lining the walls. At one time there could have been a maid to come and greet visitors here, but that was in an age long past. We walked along the hall and through the door at the end. To our left was a staircase spiraling upwards, to our right was a small kitchen and in front of that was a grand common room. At the end of the common room there was a glass door leading into what looked like a storage room. All in all, it was a pretty nice place.

We walked around the house for a while, the second floor housed six or seven bedrooms, and the third floor was an attic. After confirming that the house was empty, we started to relax. We plopped down in the common room and were about to talk, when we heard a noise. Click, click. Came the two fast noises. I knew what it was. I threw my hands into the air.

"Don't shoot!" I yelled.

The others did the same. Anara did not know the danger, for she was not of this world, she was from Artemis.

"I don't get it." She said.

“What do you mean you don’t get it? He has a gun!” Eric shouted at her.

Just then, a thunderous crash blew the window next to me out, Anara took the hint and raised her hands.

"That's it, hands where I can see 'em!" Yelled a gruff voice belonging to a man who I assumed was in his fifties or sixties.

Where the heck did he come from? We checked the house! Was this old guy some kind of freakin’ kamikaze old man?

"What business do you have here?" Came his voice from the second floor.

I remembered seeing a balcony from the second floor overlooking the common area. That must be where he is.

"We don't want any trouble," I began.

"We are on the run from the things out there!" Lisa said.

"We are just looking for a temporary place of refuge, after the horde passes, you can throw us out if you want." Eric said.

The old man was thinking.

"I already wanna throw you outta here but that wouldn't be the Christian thing to do. And the man upstairs is the only one who can help us now." He said.

I knew who he was talking about. He was talking about God.

"Keep your hands in the air." The man instructed.

"I've got a twelve gauge here, over and under. If I don't hit you with the first shot, I'll get you with the second." He said.

I didn't trust this guy. There was something about him that was a little sketchy, but maybe that's just what the apocalypse does to people.

"You two, with the guns. Put them down and slide ‘em to the staircase." He ordered.

We did as instructed and slid our firearms over to him. He extracted all of the bullets we had loaded into our weapons and slid the guns back to us.

"Oh no, these won't kill the things out there. You need silver." The old man said, inspecting the bullets.

I nodded.

"Yeah, we know, but do you have any silver bullets?" I asked rhetorically.

The man paused, as if debating about whether or not to tell us something.

He decided to tell us something.

"You see, my family has owned this land for centuries." He began.

I turned around to get a good look at him at long last. He looked pretty muscular, his voice was gruff, he was a lot bigger than me, he had wrinkles and grey hair. His eyes were light hazel. He looked like your typical world war veteran grandpa.

"My oldest grandfather that I was told about bought this plot of land sometime along the sixteen hundreds, this land has seen good times, and bad." He said.

I was wondering what the point of his little story was, but I decided to hear him out.

"When I was just a boy, my father told me stories about the times this very land was in my family, he told me how this house was built and rebuilt countless times over the centuries. I was starting to wonder why he told me how old the house was, over and over again, then his stories all came together, and all made sense, just like the one I'm telling you will." He said.

Geez, I hoped it made sense, because right now I was getting zero sense out of this little story.

"This house is so old, because my whole family were vampire hunters." He continued.

Woah, wasn't expecting that. Talk about a plot twist.

"Dating back to the sixteen hundreds, when my ancestors settled here, there were the blood suckers who wanted the land for whatever reason that they did. My family killed countless of those dark creatures, in the dark days, as they were called. The dark days are upon us once more, and I am the last remaining member of the brave vampire hunters of my family to my knowledge. So yes, I do have silver bullets, only a few that I've accumulated over the years, purposeless until now." The man said, his voice grave and filled with purpose.

“That’s awesome! But where are the bullets?” Eric asked.

“Right. Follow me.” The man said.

He led us down to his basement, which had a hidden door in the storage room, behind some crates of dried food. He had a chilly basement, well it was more of a cellar. There were sacks of potatoes, jars of pickled vegetables and even some chocolate bars. The old man led us into a separate room with a small cardboard box. He opened the flaps on top and revealed refined silver bullets. I predicted that there were around three hundred of them in the box.

"Do you have any silver bullets that would match this calibre?" I asked the man.

I held out the twenty or so bullets I had in my pocket.

He studied them for a minute.

“No, I don't have any bullets of that size, but your friend's pistol might take the ammunition that I have here." He said.

With that Eric pulled out his hand gun and gave it to the old man. The man chambered one of the bullets and it looked like the bullet fit. The man gave Eric back his magazine for the gun and Eric filled it up. The man gave me an old western style six shooter.

"Take this." He said. He gave me only six bullets.

He went deeper in the room and came out with a rack of silver knives.

"Why are you giving us all of these weapons?" I asked.

The man turned to look at me.

"Why wouldn't I? I can't save the world by killing these things on my own, and I need all the help I can get. Now everyone, take a knife, there aren't enough guns to go around." He ordered.

We all did as we were told. I took a knife that was gold on the handle, with an intricate design going down to the pommel, and embedded in the pommel was a blue stone. There was writing in a strange language on the blade. The blade was curved and slightly forked on the end.

“I won't be needing these." I said, pulling the normal hunting rifle bullets out of my pocket. The old man took them.

"Well, that's all I can-" The old man stopped short.

There was a noise coming from upstairs. It was something pounding on wood. The Kerulen were here. From the basement window we could see the looming shadow of the horde. The old man looked out.

"Good god." He said in feared awe.

Author's Note

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