After Henry had explained what just happened at the bar, the other two just stared at him. Arthur was the first to move, slowly pacing over to the window and lighting another smoke. Jeremiah, on the other hand, wasn’t as calm or understanding.
“So.” Jeremiah said right before he walked into one of the aisles of the gas station, looking for something. “Did I hear you right?” A bag of some kind of chip could be heard being opened. “They want to be hunted? What kind of bloodthirsty creature wants that?”
Henry could barely make out that last sentence because Jeremiah’s face had been stuffed with food. “It said it was tradition to have hunters like us intervene.” He scanned the room for his shotgun for a moment. “It said they were close, and that they left not so subtle signs.” He found it, it had been leaning on the wall just below where the register was. “At least I can say one good thing about all of this.” He slid the pump action back just a bit to see the shell within. It had a faint yellow glow to it, he slid the pump forwards to where it was before. “At least it made a good drink.”
“It said anything will do the trick, right?” Said Arthur, who looked at the now dark bar across the street. He took a long drag from what was left of his cigarette, tossing it on the tile floor; then lighting another.
“Pretty much anything that goes bang or can cut good and proper.” Said Henry, who just sat down on a random wood chair, the Winchester resting across his legs. “It said to go north.” He looked outside, not focusing on anything in particular. He just looked at the weather itself, the rain hasn't subsided one bit since they got here. Without the light from the bar, though, it made the street look a lot bigger. Darkness masked the far side through the intense rainfall. Everything looked like it was moving ever so slightly, like they were being watched. Which, Mr. Temple presumed that much. He wouldn’t be surprised if they could even hear the conversation they were having at that very moment. “We need to move fast and hit them hard before dawn.”
Arthur kept the smoke in his mouth when he opened the door he was next to. The constant rain amplified as he held it open, looking back at Henry. Henry could see he was shaking slightly. “Be- be- before anybody else shows up in A- Alder.” He said, before closing the door behind him to get his gear from his truck. Arthur earned respect from anybody he had worked with, because through all the nerves and uncertainty; he still got the job done. He just wasn’t as good at hiding it as the others in this profession. The two followed him outside shortly after. Jeremiah was still eating the rest of the chips he had procured as he caught up with Henry.
The rain pelted them as they got to their cars. The three had the same idea, move them under the gas stations awning that covered the pumps. Easier to think under there. But, the rain somehow seemed louder under the cover until their ears got used to it.
“Alright, so high explosives like dynamite or something bigger are not a good idea.” Henry was saying when he looked through the various weapons and ammunition he had in the trunk.
“Why not?” Jeremiah said, “It’d kill more of them at once and the thing said they’d hurt them.” He grabbed a couple of daggers he always brought with him, just in case they got close in between reloads.
“Yellow Eyes said they live in burrows, don't want to collapse the caves on top of us and the people they have captive.” Henry grabbed his ammo belt, then looked at the crates he had with different types of ammo.
“C-C-Con.” Arthur shook much worse now. Henry went over to him and put a hand on his shoulder.
“What were you saying, Arty?” He said.
He looked from the ground at Henry, gritting his teeth; “Con-Considering they live underground pri-primarily-y. A co-combination of Flash Burn shells and incendiary grenades would do the t-trick and stun the others at the same time, most likely.”
“Great idea, Arty.” He wiped some more raisin off of his coat, then looked at Jeremiah. “I was thinking Osmium Hollow Points for the handguns.” Jeremiah just nodded, then took a step back to look in the trunk of the Fleetline again. “I know how you are until the shit hits the fan, Arthur. Remember, you have friends on your side, okay?”
Arthur regained some amount of composure; “Okay.” Then he nodded before he looked at the huge metal box he had in the bed of his red truck. Well, after he unlocked the thing, which had three separate locks that needed three separate keys to be opened. He was known amongst the group of Hunters as a Concocter, which is a rare title as most of them have been killed during jobs or back in World War 2.
The title entails a deep understanding of different mixtures to produce the very specific ammo hunters require. Depending on what they fight and even where they’re fighting them, Arthur would most likely know what you require for the job. Well, if the particular job is in North or South America. Not as many hunters in Europe, considering they hunted almost all the creatures to extinction hundreds of years ago at this point. But, the ones in the other regions don’t tend to communicate with the ones out of it.
*
After the lot geared up, they got in their cars then headed North on the only two-way road straight in and out of town. The Chevy with Henry and Jeremiah led out of the two cars. In both of them, they had a radio set up that was set to the same frequency so they could communicate easier with each other. They drove for what felt like ten, fifteen minutes before Henry heard Arthur’s voice over the radio.
“Hey Henry, how much further we need to go?”
Henry picked up the receiver to reply, “Until we see a sign of any kind.”
“Well, in this monsoon of a storm, I bet it’ll be hard to see.”
“The thing said they aren’t subtle, so we keep going unti-'' Jeremiah slammed on the breaks out of nowhere. Henry stopped, looking at the not so subtle sign that the Yellow Eyes had left for them now. A giant tree was across the road just ahead of them. He’s surprised Jeremiah even saw it in time to not smash into it, considering the weather. They all got out of their trucks, assuming this to be their stop.
It looked like the base was hacked away with something. Claw marks could be seen a few feet above it, too. Henry hoped they didn’t use their own hand to do that. The issue with the situation they were in. With fighting something new like this, they had no idea what they were capable of. Back at the bar, it disappeared in an instant when the lights went out. Could it teleport? Did it have faster than human speed? These are the questions that went through Henry’s mind when it came to the unknown variables. When/if they get out of this, they will need to spread the word and fast. This type of thing wasn’t in any of the old history during the great hunts of Europe, so, solely a North American creature. That is normal, though, to be sure. Like Bigfoot, Moth man and the Wendigo to mention a few. But still, it didn’t help with them understanding what they were up against.
They looked at the base of the tree with the flashlights they had. By the looks of it, they did just hack it down with their hands. A bluish black liquid could be seen at spots and long, razor sharp nails were lodged into it as well.
“They must be able to regenerate fast, if they were willing to do this to themselves.” Arthur said, from the tone in his voice, he was focused now.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“If they can do ‘dis to a tree, mustn’t let dem get close.” Jeremiah said, spitting tobacco on the tree.
Henry stood closest to the forest out of three. He began to scan the treeline for any other sign of some kind with the light. Luckily for him, that didn’t take too long. Horizontal claw marks could be seen on the trees. From how they were patterned. He assumed that they were meant to always have one of the marks on either side of them while they went deeper into the trees. The other two had seen what he had, not long after. Mr. Temple turned his head to look at the others, all of them were getting drenched by the downpour. “Let’s go.”
*
The rain didn’t hit them as bad as they walked in the forest because of the dense canopy overhead. So, at least that was something positive that came out of this. None of them spoke really as they wandered deeper and deeper down the designated path. The path was made of thick moss on top of soft dirt from the constant rain. For the most part, the route itself was flat and easy to navigate. Jeremiah and Arthur kept their eyes peeled, scanning the woods all around them. They had to make sure they wouldn't get ambushed by these things.
Henry, on the other hand, didn’t worry about that. For some reason, he knew that wouldn’t happen. He didn’t have the fear scratch in the back of his mind, no second thoughts or paranoia. He knew what the Yellow Eyes said was true deep down. That this, all of this, somehow was tradition amongst their flock. If they had honor in that aspect, he knew they wouldn’t try to take them out before they even got to the fight. He knew, though, that they were waiting. Eyes pierced through the black void in the distance into him. Good against evil, people needed to be saved; and that’s all Henry cared about.
Henry stopped dead in his tracks, shining the light in the direction he felt it. Heat, like it being blown toward them somehow. It smelt off, too. Like sweat and rotten flesh mixed into a stew that flooded the senses. He looked at the other two who had also stopped as well; “This way.” He said, pulling out his Revolver.
Branches cracked underfoot, leaves ruffled. Soggy moss compressed under their heavy boots, releasing cold water all around the leather of them. But, when the pressure was relieved, it slowly formed into its original state. The air was thick, sickening more and more with each breath the three took. Henry was familiar with it more than the others, it reminded him of the trenches in France.
In the distance straight ahead, though, a pair of those familiar yellow eyes appeared from the darkness. “By the pricking of thy thumb.” A voice that sounded like The Bartender as Henry had said, before more and more of the eyes appeared ahead at different heights and distances. It then finished the quote; “Something wicked this way comes.” As soon as he had uttered that sentence, all the eyes had disappeared; only the void remained from the direction they came. The smell had not, which pushed them forward along its putrid stench.
“We must be getting close to their den.” Said Arthur, still strobing his flashlight at the trees ahead of them.
“You think? Why wouldn’t they just kill us now?” Said Jeremiah, who was now holding his sawed off double barreled shotgun in one hand.
“It’s not how they do things, they want the fight to be on more even ground.”
The lot kept going, each step was deliberate, everything could be heard all around them. What they lacked in manpower, they made up for in firepower. They didn’t know how many of these things there were. By the amount of eyes they just saw, it was a lot.
After a few more minutes had passed of them trekking through the trees, they finally found it. A hole in the mossy ground, where the Alders seemed more distant from each other than the rest of the forest. The entrance caught their eye from the yellow glow it had emitted. What looked to be steam bellowed out of the same entrance as the light, presumably that was the cause of the stench itself.
It got hotter the closer they got to the way into the burrow. None of the Yellow Eyes could be seen anywhere in or around it. The three men all walked together towards it, side by side. When they got right above it, makeshift stairs could be seen through the steamy haze it had been producing.
“Remember, be careful of people down there. I’m assuming these things won’t be hiding from us and will make themselves known when they attack.”
“You presume a little too much for my liking.” Arthur said, he sounded almost completely different now. No nervousness was left, only the job itself was what he thought of. Generations of his family had been hunters, his basic programming had fully kicked in. “But, I trust you completely.” Before the other two had made a move to step into it, Arthur led the way. He talked to himself under his breath, Henry always thought he was praying when he did it.
After the lot had passed through the lit gateway, it was just stony steps. Moisture coated everything it could touch, after a few minutes it even coated themselves. The cold steps were carved out of one giant slab of stone. Shallow patterns and grooves had been carved into it, most likely for better grip because of the slick film the moisture had left. Every breath felt like they drank stagnant, hot water that made it even harder to do so.
The bottom of the staircase could not be seen through the thick, yellow mist ahead. The farther they progressed, the harder it was to even see the walls or the ceiling. A cold gust of air rushed into the hallway, pushing all the steam out the entrance behind them. After what felt like just a few more steps, the hallway gave way to a giant cavern. Makeshift rock bridges weaved above them, connecting the sides of the cavern to each other. Drops of water dripped onto stone or, what sounded like larger bodies of water below them.
“A sight to behold, is it not?” The Bartender's low tone reverberated throughout the cavern. “We have outlived most of our flock, for we have lived many moons. Good against evil, light against dark. A story of classic origin but with modern tones. Come, show us how this story plays out. Good luck, hunters of all things wicked, and grotesque.” All around the lot, along the walls of the cavern they could hear footsteps, scurrying and nails scratching on the stone.
Somehow, everything had lit up more with no light sources the lot could see.
A voice from the nearest tunnel to them rang out, piercing through the natural ambience of the cave; “Help! Somebody!” The unknown women cried out, getting the three to run towards the rocky hallway. The three sprinted side by side down the hallway, with the improved light it helped them see four entrances before the tunnel turned right up ahead.
They dispersed to look through the rooms as quickly as possible. They all saw the same scene before them, piles of bones. Skulls were in their own separate one closer to the entrance before the larger heap behind them. They were organized, stacked in a pyramid shape; covered in what looked to be dry blood. A separate pile was next to the heap as well, it was clothing. But, very old and worn down. The pile looked more like just wet cloth than anything they could discern from anything else in the mound.
The voice rang out again; “Help!” The lot ran to the fourth door, which was something else than the other rooms entirely. Eight bodies, all sitting up against the wall on the far side of the simple stone room. All of them were bound, their mouths were gagged as well. When they saw the three of the armed men in the doorway, they cried out muffled screeches through the cloth. They all looked up at the ceiling but from where the lot stood in the doorway, couldn’t see what the tied up people could. The voice from before had returned, but it was right above them, just past the entrance.
“Help!” It cried again. Henry, shotgun pointing straight up peeked at the ceiling through the doorway as fast as he could. It was one of the Yellow Eyes, hanging from the ceiling looking right at Henry with a smile on its face. As soon as Henry registered what the shape even was, it let go of the ceiling to leap straight towards him. Just before he peeked his head back through to the hallway he let off two shots. Which lit up the room like the sun itself had appeared from the barrel. He then leaned back into the tunnel, just a moment later the Yellows Eyes body crashed into the stony floor of the room.
The thing's body sizzled in the distorted, unnatural position it now was in ahead of Henry. He stepped towards it and jabbed it with the bayonet he had fixed at the end of the Winchester. The other two at this point were in the doorway, looking at the body as well.
Henry laughed to himself for a second, then looked at Arthur. “Flash Burn was a perfect choice.” He as well as Jeremiah began to walk to the people that were still up against the wall. Henry locked eyes with Arthur again and just pointed at the door, Arthur nodded then aimed his shotgun towards it. “Alright, all of you run out of this room, take a right as soon as you do and keep going. You’ll see the way out once you pass into the cavern.” All of them were in shock, barely able to speak besides gibberish. All the eight had small cuts and bruises, clothes covered and sweat and grime. Without any hesitation they ran out of the room as fast as they could. Arthur had stepped out as well, aiming at the right turn the hallway went just past the door to the left.
Jeremiah crouched down to investigate the corpse further, water dripping onto his hat from above. The Yellow Eyes face looked human, until he lifted its lip. Razor sharp teeth with black tips filled its mouth. Its skin was ghostly pale and clammy, dark blue veins rose to the surface. Like it hadn’t seen the sun in god knows how long. Its eyes were the same as the bartenders but looked more grayed out, now devoid of life. The whole right side of its face that was on the floor was mangled and shredded, steamy blue blood poured out onto the uneven black stone from the wound.
Henry crouched down to Jeremiah’s level, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s keep moving. We have a long way to go.” Jeremiah just looked back at him and nodded, before he glanced back at the creature's body again before getting up. They both walked out of the room to where Arthur stood. “Let’s move.” He said to Arthur who, without even responding, began to go down the unknown hallway with his sawed off shotgun ready.
The tunnel was actually another staircase that led up to the next floor. Two more creatures stood at the top of it, one leaped to the wall and began to crawl on it towards them. The other, who was much larger than the other, leaped straight at them. Arthur shot the first one right before it was on top of him with barrels. He then crouched while he drew his pistol, so the now lifeless body could fly over him and past the others. He drew a 1911 and shot twice, both shots hit their mark perfectly right between its shoulder blades. It fell off the wall like a bag of bricks, crashing onto the sloped floor, then rolling down the steps to the feet of Henry and Jeremiah. Who, at this point, had just rounded the corner to the base of the stairs.
They both just looked at Arthur, who had a splatter of blue blood across his face. He reloaded his shotgun, pulling out the spent shells, which made a hollow clack when they hit the floor.
“Check the bigger ones hands.” Arthur said in a calm, level voice. He closed the break action of the shotgun once he put two fresh rounds in, then slowly walked up the staircase to the next floor. He was right to recommend checking its hands, because they were massive. Almost the size of the twos heads with thick fingers, the nails had been replaced with what almost looked like thick talons. “Don’t let these beasts get close.” Arthur said when he got to the top of the steps. He looked down at them from it now; “Their filth shall be cleansed from this earth, they shall not survive the night.”