CHAPTER 1 – HUNTERS FROM THE DREAM
A frozen image in time. A multitude of half cadaverous human demon hybrids with permanent leering grins plastered on their scaled flesh peered out into the pouring rain as it fell harshly over dilapidated buildings of what was once a small town in the hinterland of a place once titled the United States, thousands of years into the crawling past. Now the whole world has forgotten names and titles but one, survival, survival at any cost.
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One stood slightly taller then the rest with a wicked jagged blade in one fist that dripped smoking acid onto the fallen masonry of the old building he stood upon. Surrounding him was a gaggle of smaller brothers and sisters with various makeshift edges made of sticks with sharpened metal wrapped in tattered cloth. Time sped its way back to movement, drops of water continuing their tittering fall upon earth, maniacal hyena laughter echoing across broken cement and broken sky. The multi colored light of the Dream covered its everything in undulating shifting of hard truths and battered myths. There were no more Lanterns to save the night, the hope they once brought left in a trash heap twenty years before in the Fall.
The Second to the Soldier leading this hunt scrambled through the hooting war party, crawling over the broken masonry. The Greed Soldier who led the pack of jackals looked on through the thunderous storm with an impatient hum to his movements. He knew a Tier 2 Soldier shouldn’t be leading a hunt so important but he was the highest ranked in this whole shit basket area of the world when the prey was finally located. A bounty put out by the Hell Daughter herself. He didn’t know why this one human was so important but If he could capture the girl he would finally get enough influence to trade for the chance to merge with a Gifted human instead of the lowly Norm he currently occupied. With those thoughts he heard the murmurs of the dwindling human soul within this flesh. He sent a rivulet of pain laced energy into the weak human spirit till it once again subsided into silence. If he played his cards right he would get a Gifted shell, rise to Officer and maybe some day, an Elite. The permanent specter grin that notched him as a child of Greed stretch even wider. His Second, a Rank 4 Grunt finally made its way to his feet, bowing low, the sound of rain not quite covering his labored breathing.
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He had the unfortunate circumstance of possessing a very overweight norm with almost no Endurance. His head stayed bowed as it should and waited for the Leader of the hunt to acknowledge his existence.
Xautil, the name of the Hunt Leader, a Tier 2 Soldier, child of greed, called to his bowed second. His voice was the sibilant lisp of his kind.
“Speakzzz Bota. Havezz dazz mongrelzz Dregzz foundzzz daaaaaz preyzzz?”
Mongrel Dregs referred to the lowest rank of all demons, usually consisting of stupid animals that had been possessed by the weakest of their kind.
The Second raised his head, bouncing in excitement, a deluge of water still dumping its load on everything and everyone but the Second seemed to not care as he bounced up and down after finally being confirmed.
Bota had been Xuatil’s second for all two years that they had both been upon this desolate world and were clutch brothers in their home of Tir’Na’Nog, the world of their birth that the humans called the Dream. Xautil tolerated him for this reason but knew since their birth that his clutch brother was a simpleton easily amused and easily confused, both in equal measure. Xautil’s voice cracked his brother’s exuberance in twain.
“Botazzz, enoughzz dancinzzz. Speakzzz…”
Bota shook his head as if he was lost in his steps and celebration, as if he had forgotten what he was supposed to talk about. Xuatil sighed then gave his clutch brother the prompt he needed.
“Dazzz girlzzz Botazzz.”
It was as if a light bulb had popped in the lowly Grunt Ranked demon.
“Yezzzzz greatzzz Xuatilzzz. Wezz luckyzzz, foundzzz girlzzzzz, otherzzz sidezzz ofzzz townzzzz. Mongrelzzz gotzzz bothzzzz cornerzzz...Wezzz goezzzz?!!!!”
Bota kept his dancing going, raising the makeshift club he always had. Xuatil sighed heavy again and then motioned for the pack to head out. Bota leapt to the front, his fat blobby flesh bag stumbling over the broken concrete. Xuatil’s demented grin cemented to face he crawled after his minions with visions of finer things to come. The greed of a Greed Demon knew no bounds in the exploitation of avarice.