I opened my eyes, and for a moment, my mind struggled to catch up with the sudden change. The searing heat, the roar of the firestorm, the sizzling of my burning flesh had all vanished, leaving only a faint echo in my ears. The first thing I noticed was the absence of the flames. They were gone, utterly and completely. I was outside, lying in the middle of a grassy area. All I saw above me were blue skies without a cloud in sight. It reminded me of home, not the old factory or the Chasse house, but my real home. It was what it felt like back in Texas… when I was a kid.

I rose from the ground, not recognizing the place where I stood. I looked down at my body, and I didn’t see the dark form of the monster. I was me again. All my clothes were back on like before I had transformed. My shirt wasn’t even ripped.

I remembered feeling the heat, the flames, experiencing the extreme torture that came with the hellfire, but something else happened there at the end. I felt a fog wash over me, like the night I was attacked. The night I changed into this creature that craved death. I thought it was what I felt back then… like I was dying.

I heard a sharp, cracking sound that made me whip around, heart pounding. The air was thick with tension, and the noise was unmistakable. A rifle cracking off in the distance. My eyes darted across the field, and then I saw him. A man stood amidst the tall grass, his figure stoic and focused.

The man held a rifle, its barrel still smoking slightly from the last shot. He was calm, methodical, as if this were just another day’s work. He never looked at me, never acknowledged my presence. His eyes were fixed on the ground, scanning for the next target. Then, with deliberate precision, he shouldered the rifle, his body tensing as he took aim. Another crack split the air, and I followed his line of sight, just in time to see a snake’s body ejected from its place as it met the momentum of the round. The man didn’t pause to admire his work. He moved over a few paces, scanning the ground again, before raising the rifle once more. Each shot was purposeful, each kill necessary. The tall grass swayed gently in the breeze, but the man’s movements were the only thing breaking the stillness of the field.

Behind him, a small, weathered shack stood like a silent witness. Its wooden planks were blackened with age, some so worn that gaps had formed between them, or they were missing entirely. The shack looked as though it had seen better days, standing faded against the backdrop of the wide-open land. It was older than the man, a relic from another time, and now it watched over him as he continued his grim task.

He never stopped, never hesitated, just kept moving, kept shooting, as if the very land depended on it. The rifle cracked again, echoing across the field, and the man stepped forward to do it all over again. Snake corpses filled the field like a graveyard, their bones the only remnants to signify they were ever there.

I looked around… unsure of what was happening. There was nothing else around as far as the eye could see. There were only open fields, some of grass, some wheat, some of dirt with equally spaced rows plowed through them. I didn’t feel right; something was wrong. This place wasn’t normal.

I walked slowly to the man. As soon as I got close, he took one last he took one last shot with his rifle, ending another snakes' efforts. He looked up at the sun and wiped his forehead. He looked about my size, strong, light brown hair and blue eyes, although he looked like he was in his forties.

“Hard work, isn’t it?” he suggested, without looking directly at me.

I was confused, “Shooting snakes?”

He looked down at the ground and began to laugh to himself with a smirk.

“What’s going on? Where am I?” I asked. He had to know something.

“You want something to drink?” he asked inquisitively. His mood and tone were too lighthearted for the situation.

He turned around and walked over to a short, fat log he was using as a table. He had a big pitcher of iced tea and two glasses sitting there. He grabbed the pitcher, filled both glasses, then came back and gave one to me.

He drank from his glass, let out a tired sigh. “Lots of work to be done,” he said, looking out into the one field that was thick with wheat. “Sit, please,” he motioned to a set of two logs just behind us. They were sitting around a circle of stones about four feet wide that had a little fire burning in the middle.

I followed his movements over to the logs. He sat first, waiting for me, so I sat down a few seconds later. I had no clue what the fuck was going on. He seemed nice enough, but for obvious reasons, I knew the whole place was off. Eventually, I just said fuck it. What could happen? I didn’t have control of the situation.

I took a drink of the tea, and you know what… it was good. It reminded me of my mom’s from when I was younger. I felt oddly relaxed in the strange place.

He reached down beside the log, where he sat and grabbed a few snake corpses beside him and tossed them into the fire. The fire blazed through the dried husks, only to subside seconds later until he put another few into the firepit.

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions, Sam,” he breathed in between drinks.

“Yeah,” I said obviously, still waiting for some kind of explanation.

“Shoot…”

“Umm… well first off,” I tried to gather myself. He was too calm about the whole thing. “Where am I? How did I get here? And how do you know my name?”

“These are the fields… sort of a… place between places. I’ve been waiting here for a very long time. Well… relatively. Time moves slow when you’re alone, and don’t got much to do but this,” he motioned over to his rifle. “I’ve been waiting for you. I know everything about you,” he said, almost thankfully.

“Okay…” I still didn’t understand. “How did I get here then?”

“You died…” he waited for my response, staring into me hard.

What? Did I die? That wasn’t possible; at least I didn’t think it was possible. It had been my dream at one point. I’d been shot countless times, stabbed, run over, mauled, poisoned, and anything else I could imagine as a way to end my existence. Was it going to be at the hands of some witch’s fire, or was it the poison? Maybe Phineas’ attack was more substantial than I realized.

“I died?” I couldn’t make sense of it.

“Well… in a certain way. Normally you would have walked away from that fire without any real harm, but it was time. You were ready. He could sense it, so he brought you here,” the man said, grabbing for his glass to take another drink. He looked like he was weighing his words carefully as he spoke.

“He?” I asked. “Who are you talking about? And time for what?” I asked cautiously. The hairs on the back of my neck moving slightly. It was odd. That hadn’t happened in a while…

He put his glass back down and stood from the log. He walked forward towards the dirt field. “Look out there, on the horizon. Tell me what you see.”

I followed him to the edge of the field and gazed out at what he was pointing to. When my eyes focused in, I saw him.

The dark, cloaked figure from the visions, the voice that spoke to me, the one who was there the night I was killed. Just as he stood on the jagged rocks as the monster chased me down and killed me. It was him. He was out in the fields walking in between the columns of soil, throwing seeds out into certain spots along his slow terrifying walk. I could sense his power all the way from where I was standing. To be in his presence was petrifying, feeling the force that emanated from him made me feel as helpless and insignificant as an insect. I could feel the power growing; it grew, and grew, and grew. I felt like he was staring right at me from out on the horizon. I felt my skin start to vibrate, and my ears begin to ring and hum. It felt like the whole world was crashing down on top of me. I felt pressure squeezing me, locking my lungs in place so I couldn’t breathe. I felt impending doom.

Then… it stopped.

Relief came, and everything was normal. It was quiet. I looked out on the horizon again, and he was gone. No sign he was ever there.

I bent over, kneeling as I tried to regain my strength and my breath. “What the fuck was that?” I asked.

“That…,” he paused, reverently “is who gives you your power.”

So many things flooded my mind. I remembered the first time I saw him, standing above me on the rocks as I ran for my life, standing behind the monster as it sunk its teeth into my neck, killing, and taking my old life from me. He was there from the beginning. He gave me visions. He gave me the names, but why? Also, if that was the person pulling strings… then who the hell was this guy?

“Who are you supposed to be?” I asked.

“My name is Jon, and I’m here to teach you.”

“Teach me what?”

“What you are, and what you’re meant for,” he said.

“And how do you know what that is?” I asked, confused, and a little angry.

He half-smiled before he spoke, “Because I am you. I used to be you. I’m the one that came before you. I’m the one that turned you…”

It took a second to process everything he said. I felt the swell of rage build inside of me as the realization came. If he was telling the truth, then he was the beast that night. He was the one that took everything from me. It rose quickly, my teeth gritting harder with each passing second as my furry swelled.

I dove at him with all my strength. I was aiming my hands for his face. I was going to kill him, but I never felt our bodies collide. I hit the ground and slid through the grass and dirt. I jumped up and looked around for him, and he was still right there. I ran and charged at him again, swinging my fist into his head, but when I should have connected, I fell to the ground. I didn’t hit anything, making the momentum throw me into the dirt again. He was like a ghost. I couldn’t touch him. I just lunged again and again, attacking a ghost that couldn’t be touched.

I was covered in dirt, winded from the rush of exertion. This place made me physically tired. I heaved and huffed on the ground for breath. I was fucking angry, confused, and in agony. I didn’t understand anything. I just laid there, face in the dirt. Why me? Why did I have to go through this?

As I lay in the grass, I started thinking about Caydee, Vicky, my family, and even my new family. Autumn, Carter, Eleanor, and all of the Chasses were my family as well. I wanted to be with them, all of them. I felt the tears fall from my eyes as I tried to choke the emotion down. I just wanted my life back. I clenched my fists into the earth beneath me and screamed in a rage that had been swelling in me since the first time I had to leave my family. My throat felt bloodied and raw after pushing so much force in one violent outburst.

Jon was silent for a few moments. He didn’t speak a word, almost like he knew exactly what I was feeling, and knew that no words would help.

“I am sorry, Sam… truly,” he said sincerely.

“Then why did you do it?” I pleaded.

He was silent for a moment, looking into the fields, “It had to be you. I never knew when exactly I would find you, but I knew your name. He gave it to me long ago. He’s the one who chose you,” he said, speaking of the cloaked figure.

“Why me?” I said, rolling over and sitting up in the dirt.

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“This burden, this curse is the hardest thing for someone to bear. What we become, what we turn into, is a creature that hunts and feeds on the deaths of others. Your only need is to kill. The only thing that will satisfy the beast is to kill. But,” he assured, “it isn’t for nothing.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. “How can we be anything other than killers?”

“Oh Sam, we are much more than that. Every name you are given, every vision you see, all of it comes from him.”

“So…” I was angrily looking for answers, “who the hell is he supposed to be?”

“You’re not ready for that yet,” Jon answered. “But what I can tell you is that there are things in this world… people, beings, creatures that become so powerful that they cause an imbalance. They can escape beyond the natural order of things and throw off the very balance of the physical world. They tip the scales in the wrong direction. The scales have to be balanced.”

“What does that have to do with me? Why do I have to be… this?” I asked angrily.

“You are his tool in the physical world. He can’t interact in the physical world. He can only affect change from here,” he said, motioning out into the vast expanse. “He sets things, events, people into motion here in the fields, and lets them grow and play out on their own. He cannot physically enter the world himself… not anymore.”

I looked back out into the fields and saw him. I could feel his power again, except this time, it didn’t overwhelm me. I watched him pace slowly through the distance. God only knew what he was truly doing, the things I couldn’t see that he was affecting, and the events and people being changed and set in motion. But what was he? How was he doing it?

“I’ve had the responsibility for five hundred years. The man that turned me did this for centuries before I was ever born. There have been others like us for a very long time,” Jon said.

“I have spent every moment of the last two years trying to figure it out,” I said under my breath, but I knew he could hear me. “What am I? What are… we?”

“I’m going to tell you a story. It was told to me, in this very spot, over five hundred years ago.” He sat back down on the log and motioned for me to sit.

I came back to my log and sat, but I was barely hanging on mentally. It was all too much to process.

“There was a time, long ago, when people got too powerful and could, literally, escape death. The Mayans are the prime example of this kind of imbalance. Certain people in their civilization knew how to gain power and survive by unnatural means. They made contact with something else, in another place by means of a dark ritual and power. While they kept on living, the scales stayed out of balance, and powers on earth grew too strong and unruly. The natural order was turned on its head. He had to find a balance… he needed a way to maintain in the physical world, to hunt down the ones who had escaped their fate. Yet, he can never fully enter our world. If he were to go into the living world…” Jon took a moment to shake his head at the thought, “No one would survive.” He looked out to the figure, walking through the fields. The dark shadow lingered on the horizon. “That’s when he created his first…”

“First what? What are we?”

“We’re not like anything else you’ll ever see. We were created solely for one purpose… to hunt and kill anything that escapes the natural order and grows into power beyond this world. Beings that can sense and hide from their fate are among the most powerful in the world. Yet, we couldn’t be just another beast. He wanted something different. He wanted something more powerful than anything that still roamed the earth. So, he used his own power to transform a human man into a creature, born of death. We don’t have a name… usually, those that see us in our true form don’t live to tell anyone. The names I have heard are born of fear… and terror. Demon, monster, wraith, beast, the list goes on and on. The oldest I ever heard was from the village of a beast that came long before me. A legend scarcely told by an ancient culture came up with a name after they witnessed annihilation at the hands of one of our kind. It was Latin… De Manu Mortis.” His eyes turned black as he said the name. “Roughly translated it means Hand of Death.”

“So… that’s what I am?” I asked out loud, not to him but more to myself.

“No, that’s just a name created by someone who saw some terrifying shit. There’s nothing to compare us to, nothing to call us. We were never given a true name. We never needed one. You’re the only one in the world,” he said. “Look, I don’t know all the answers. My predecessors might have known more than me… but I stopped searching for those answers long ago.”

I was stuck on what he said first. “But, you said that you were the one who turned me…”

“Yes… I was.”

“What…” I looked at his black eyes, confused. “How can there only be one of us… we’re both standing right here.”

“You’re the beast now. My time has ended, it’s time for me to rest… finally,” he said, looking to the sun above.

“Rest? You turned me over two years ago. I don’t understand… You’ve been around this whole time? You let me kill all those people? Why?”

“I’ve been here since the night I turned you, waiting in the fields. You have been the only one in the living world,” he explained. “And we needed you to kill, to reap evil souls in the world so you could grow in strength and power.”

“So, I wasn’t an uncontrollable monster. I was killing for a reason?” This shook my heart and soul. I thought I was something else, just trying to survive. Knowing that I killed men to grow my power sickened me. I didn’t want to be stronger, and I didn’t want to kill. I hated killing. “Maybe all those people didn’t have to die… maybe it was my craving for power that convinced me it was an acceptable price to survive.”

“Don’t think that way, Sam. That will only lead you down another dark path that you don’t want to go down, trust me.”

“But I killed them. I sought them out, hunted them down and killed them…”

“Every single person you killed; every murderer, every rapist, all of them were meant to die. You never knew that you were being guided to them, but their death was meant to come,” he explained.

“Why… why was I supposed to kill them?”

“To murder someone, to take a life requires a sacrifice in oneself. When you kill someone in cold blood, you are taking a life that wasn’t meant to end. The scales are out of balance,” he looked back to the fields, reverently again, towards the cloaked being, “and he has to find the balance. He could have taken care of them from here and kept the balance, but he guided you, in the fields, to help you grow. He opened your eyes and let you see the evil in the world, to sift through the innocent until you found your victims. He needed to know that you were ready before he gave you your first name. He needed you strong before he sent you towards the beings that eluded their deaths.”

It took me a moment to accept what he was saying. If it was the truth, it was easier to accept than what I thought. I hoped it was the truth.

“Why are you here?” I looked around, “I don’t see anyone else.”

“I had to stay here, in the fields, until you were ready. Just in case.”

“Just in case what?”

“If you weren’t ready, then I would have had to come back. I would have to continue until he found another.”

“So, he can find another?” I asked eagerly. This was my chance, my escape. The death that I wanted was close.

“I don’t think you want that, Sam,” he said, cautioning me.

What could be worse than this? However, I was still nervous to ask, “Why?”

He was silent for a moment, looking at the ground between us like he saw something. Then he looked out in the fields. When I looked out in the rows of dirt, I saw the figure standing closer than before, staring into Jon. They were communicating silently, talking somehow about what I had just said.

Jon turned back to me, “There are things I need to tell you before I answer your question.”

“Okay,” I said, anxiously awaiting a release from this life.

“First, everything has a life, and everything has a death. It doesn’t matter if you are a human, a vampire, witch, gypsy, werewolf, or any kind of creature. There is a beginning, and there is an end to all life. The only thing different is the lengths of times that are granted. Vampires think they are immortal, but they are not. They have very long lifespans while they drink the blood of others, but they too will die. Werewolves live very long as well, but they too will die. They are all the same, only they age and die in different strides. However, all manner of creatures, including humans, have cheated death. There are ways to see things, ways to bend the rules, but they aren’t natural, and they have consequences. You’ll sense them, you’ll hunt them, and you’ll wipe them from the earth. He will take care of the rest, and send you to someone if needed.”

I didn’t think even the Chasses, Wicklows, or Talbots knew any of this. Hell, it seemed like the vampires themselves didn’t realize this truth. No one did. Everyone would die, even the so called immortals.

“Second, this life… is hard. The things you will have to do, the way you will have to live, and the craving for death won’t go away. You will always have a need to kill. It won’t be easy. You’ll outlive everyone you know; friends, family, loved ones. It’s inevitable. However, don’t make the mistake of thinking that being alone is better than losing someone close to you. I made that mistake for a while in the beginning, unfortunately.” I could see memories playing behind his eyes, making him see some dark times in his long life. “You’ll be walking in this world for a very long time. Find someone, something… anything to make it more bearable. These hunters that you’ve come to know, you’ve grown to care for them. They’ll make things easier. They’ll give you something to live and fight for in your darkest days, when you feel the power of the monster, that he has put in you, clawing to be set free. It does have a will of its own… you must be strong. There is a reason there is only one… when there used to…” Jon looked away, back into the fields to the ominous figure. He seemed lost in thought. So was I.

Dark days? I hoped I never had to experience what he was referring to. I just wanted him to finish, so I could figure out if they would truly set me free and let me die as I should have. I didn’t want to kill anymore. I didn’t want to live any longer, not the way I had been for the past two years. I wanted to look down on my friends, my family, the Chasses, and… Caydee. I wanted to watch her grow, live, love, and make her way through life. I thought that the only way that was possible was for me to die. I had to be free from this curse.

“Third…” he spoke back up again after glancing away from the figure that held his gaze. “This is very important. Keep your secret very close to you. Only share it with the ones you must. Your secret is your power. Your enemies won’t know what you are, they won’t know how to stop you, and they won’t know you even exist. Not until it’s too late. If others discovered you, it could hinder previously laid plans. They could trap you in places you don’t even know exist yet, places you’ve never seen. Old magic exists that can hurt you in ways you’ve never imagined.” He looked to be in pain as he continued, “Even keeping the secret from the ones you love might be best. It might save their life, but that is for you to decide.” Something must have happened to him, or to someone he loved. “Remember these things in your walk.”

“Why are you telling me all of this? Is there a way out of this life or not?” I asked angrily. “I don’t want this life! I don’t care if you think I’m ready!”

“I’m sorry, Sam… for what you will have to face,” he apologized. “But there will be a way for you to escape this life. It is coming soon, very soon, Sam. I wish that it wasn’t this way, but it’s his will. You’ll go back… you’ll get up off the ground and walk straight through that hellfire towards Mucia. You’ll kill her, of that, I am sure.”

Jon slowly turned and walked over to his rifle and grabbed the weapon from the stump, where he had planted it. He looked like he was about to continue the work I had interrupted. He grabbed the long wooden handle with a solid grip.

I felt a powerful pulse from where I stood, some kind of supernatural force that emanated from deep out in the fields where the cloaked man had stood. Jon looked down at the ground for a few moments and never said a thing to me. He looked like he was mouthing words, silently talking to someone.

“Are you ready?” he asked, coming to stand in front of me.

“How will I know when the moment comes?” I asked, terrified I’d miss my only way out.

“Trust me… you will know when it is upon you. I am sorry, Sam.”

I hoped he was right. I couldn’t miss it. I had to make the right choice. I just wished I would know what I was supposed to do.

“Before you leave… I need to impress something on you.”

“What,” I asked hurriedly, ready to kill the witch and escape this life.

“What we do, what the beast is meant for, I used to think was a curse as well. But… not just anyone can perform the task that has been set out for us. You have an unbending will. You always have, even since you were a small child. You are relentless. If something is hard, or it makes you stumble, you never stopped. You kept moving no matter how hard it got,” he said. “I saw you your whole life. I watched your tenacity as you grew. I started to watch you, and your family. Family is important Sam… enjoy them… while you can,” he added randomly. “Once I knew your name and felt the relief of this burden approaching, I started to think of it differently.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Someone must keep the balance on earth. If we don’t, if he doesn’t have someone to balance the scales, then life as everyone knows it would be changed drastically,” he urged. “Think of all the innocent people in the world; your loved ones, your friends, Caydee…” He let that sink in for a moment. “If we don’t make the sacrifice, if we don’t take up the burden, those like Mucia will run wild and unchecked. The lives of those you love, and all the other innocents of the world would suffer. You can help them. That’s how I’ve seen this burden ever since I knew you were coming. It’s a selfish view because you’re relieving me, but that doesn’t change the truth. You are needed.”

I nodded as he spoke. His words weighed more heavily on me than I thought they would. It made me start to think, even though I knew I would selfishly choose relief if I could.

“Believe it or not,” Jon laughed at a memory, “we’ve met before.”

“What?” I scanned memories for him.

“Yes, the day I came for you. I planned to take you the moment I saw you, but I had to meet with you first. I had to speak with the person I was going to pass this great responsibility off to, before I killed you.”

“When?” I asked, still sifting through what I remembered of my old life.

“The night I came for you, I watched you from outside of your house. I couldn’t kill you without talking to you first. So, I followed you to a gas station. I walked inside as you were standing in the back. I came up and struck a conversation with you. You were going to,” I cut him off.

“A cookout. My family’s cookout the night I went missing,” I remembered, his face… his name. “Jon,” I could see his face in the back of that gas station.

“When you told me where you were going, I couldn’t take you. Not there. I wanted you to at least have one more night. One more good memory to hold onto after your new life started.”

I didn’t know what to say.

“I am sorry,” he apologized, but only for what had to happen. He knew what he was doing and what we were meant for. He had to do it.

“Thank you,” I said, staring at the ground. I meant it from the bottom of my heart. Jon had done me a service that he didn’t have to provide. It meant something deep to me, because I looked back on that night often… in my hardest moments.

He gave me a quick nod, “Good luck, Sam,” and then he reached out and touched my shoulder.

I felt a searing pain shoot through every inch of my body as soon as he touched me. Everything went white, and I was gone.