We stood in the essence of shock. It felt real and like a fantasy all at the same time. The light from the awakening sky was brighter than normal; the shadows on the walls seemed more exaggerated; and the stillness of the silence was unmovable. It was a dream—it had to be one…at least that’s what I told myself. But I knew the truth. In fact, I knew it all too well. The scene before me was nostalgically familiar, so the initial shock wore off of me quicker than it would have for most.

Hunter, on the other hand, was like a stone. I could see it in his face. I could see it in the way his body remained unmoved. And for some reason, I could feel it within his very person. I couldn’t explain it, but through some sort of invisible connection that we shared at that moment, I could almost sense his coldness. Everything about him, at that exact moment, was like a stone: his emotions, his physique, and his soul. However, I knew that it wouldn’t last long.

“What is this?” Hunter absentmindedly said, breaking the silence. His gaze was locked upon the body of his deceased mother.

“Hunter…” was all I could say in reply.

I saw his body beginning to shake. “This is not real.” He sharply inhaled. “You’re not seeing this, too, right? Tell me you’re not seeing this. Tell me that it isn't real.”

I winced a bit and took a deep, calming breath. “No, Hunter, it is real. But you need to—”

“NO!” he screamed out, tensing every muscle possible.

The sound that came out of his mouth pierced my ears and bounced off of every wall. Such a shrill sound caused the air itself to go quiet. The shattered window of the room even quivered in fear. In fact, I was surprised that it didn’t break. And if it didn’t break, then something else had to.

“Why?” Hunter said, still staring forward. “Why? Why? Whywhywhywhywhywhywhy?”

“Hunter!” I said, grabbing his shoulders. “You have to calm down. You can’t lose yourself. I know what this is like. Listen to my voice.”

“GET OFF ME!” he yelled, pulling away. He then backed himself up against one of the walls, and stumbled to find any semblance of balance. His head continued to look down.

In the tense stillness that came after the outburst, I started to hear another noise. It took me a second, but I realized that it was staggered breathing and sniffling…and it was coming from Hunter. Although I couldn't see his eyes, I knew that they had to be filled with moisture.

“I’m sorry,” I said, softening up my words and my demeanor. “I’m sorry about all of this, but I don’t want you to do what I did. I’m sorry for being so forceful.”

“You should be sorry,” Hunter said. His tone was different than what I was expecting. There was a hardness and a seething bite behind it. “After all, this is all your fault.”

I took a step back and slightly shook my head. “What are you talking about?”

Hunter’s head lifted up and his eyes met mine. A chilling, nostalgic, emotion shot down my spine. It took the shape of a memory from both long ago and from a few days ago. What triggered that sensation was not his words, but the yellow, haunting eyes that carried those words into my soul—it was a cold shock. They were eyes that I’ve already seen twice.

“They did this,” Hunter said. “They did this to her. They did this to me.”

Shaking my head and frowning, I replied, “Don’t do this, Hunter. Don’t give in.”

“Shut up!” He took a step forward. “You're just as guilty as all the other humans. You helped them do this.”

“I didn’t…” I tried to argue, but something about my defense caused me to stop. Something about those words rang true, and I couldn’t say anything.

“If you didn’t make me go with you, if you didn’t threaten me with my life, then I would’ve been here to protect her. You did this to her.”

“I’m sorry,” I apologized, “I’m sorry for what I did. But that is not my sword.”

”Not your sword?” He then looked over towards the impaling weapon. “Then what is that on the end of the sword, hmm?” His twisting fingers then pointed at the hilt of the sword. “Why is there a petal of that flower on there? And why are you still wearing it?”

My breathing began to speed up. “I don’t…I-I’m not sure if…”

“I don’t care,” Hunter cut me off, raising his shaking hand. “I don’t care anymore.” He then started to walk towards the body and towards the sword.

“Don’t do this,” I begged. “Don’t do this, Hunter. It’s almost daytime outside.”

He didn’t respond to me with words. Instead, he reached for the blade and put one hand on the hilt.

“Don’t let them see you during the day,” I continued. “Don’t let them see you for what they think you are. There’s still time to make a choice.”

“You’re right,” he replied, looking back at me, “and I’ve made my choice.”

He then pulled upwards on the blade, dislodging it from where it rested. A spray of blood covered the wall in a streak. The blade itself was crooked and nicked all over—it was malformed both from its inception and from its abuse. In the hands of Hunter, it looked even more twisted.

“They’re going to pay,” he said, looking up at the blade, “and they’re finally going to get what’s coming for them.”

“Please stop,” I said to him. “You don’t want this.”

He then snapped his face towards me. In that brief moment, I saw something on his face that I was not expecting. Mixed within his vengeful eyes and his wrathful smile, was a face of distraught and conflict.

“Then what do I do with this?” he countered. “What do I do with this anger?”

“Nothing. You can’t let it control you. The night becomes much darker when you do.”

He gritted his teeth, and as the morning sunlight started to bleed into the room, I saw two of his front teeth turn into fangs. “I’m not like you. I’ve lived my whole life in the night.”

Just when he said that, he turned around and leaped over the bed and through the shattered window. I just stood there and looked out into the oncoming colors. I have no idea how long I stood there in the stunned aftermath, but it couldn’t have been long. As soon as I shook myself free, my eyes immediately looked at the face of the mother.

“I’m sorry,” I said to her. “I can’t make it up to you, but I’ll do my best. I’ll bring your boy back.”

With that, I sprinted out of the room, down the stairs, and out the front door. I could feel the dew of the morning and the mist that was there when I first arrived, and they continued to cling to my feet. But even so, I continued onwards.

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I ran all over town, searching for my friend. My heart was beating fast and I could feel it in my throat, pulsing with each step. And each of my steps felt lighter than ever. There was a purpose behind my running and a reason behind what I was hunting. It was a feeling that I didn’t have time to consider, because any thoughts of mine were soaked with adrenaline. With that spike of adrenaline, my senses were heightened beyond even what they were when I was consumed by the angriest fires. With those heightened senses, I eventually managed to find an unfortunate trail that I knew would lead to Hunter.

It only took a minute or so before I found the start of the trail. Ragdolled against a wall, with their neck completely slit and still running with blood, was the body of an average citizen. I quickly looked at them to see if there was any chance that they could be saved, but they were completely dead. Actually, as I continued to look at them, I realized that they looked familiar to me. It took everything for me not to give in to my anger when I realized that the person in front of me was the drunkard that we met not but an hour ago. I took a second to compose myself, and then continued to follow the bloody trail.

I passed one body, then another, then another, and then another. The consistency of them continued to increase the more I followed it. Sometimes I would even see a child or another person hover over the dead body, sobbing and crying out in emotional pain. After I heard the first cry, more and more began to fill the town. It was like an ethereal, haunting cry of long-lost souls who were abandoned on the surface of the world, unable to find their way to the heavens.

Eventually, I found myself running down Memory Lane, which ultimately led me to the central plaza. It was there that I was met with a sight that was more red than anything else. It looked like the paintings of the hells that I would see plastered on church ceilings. Bodies were scattered about, with rivers of fresh blood still snaking their way outwards in all directions. Towards the center of that mess was a short pile of corpses, which had a figure sitting upon it like a throne—a king of death, twiddling a crooked sword.

“Hunter!” I called out. “You have to stop this! Nothing will come from this.”

Hunter then stopped his idle movements and looked up at the sky. Without even looking back at me, he replied, “That’s rich coming from you. I know nothing will come from this, but it’s only fair.”

I took a few steps forward. With each step, I saw the sun peeking up behind each of the houses more and more.

“This isn’t who you are!” I yelled. “I know that.”

Hunter then jumped off the pile and onto his feet. As he turned around, I saw the fidgeting body of his start to make his way over to me. As he did, he stepped into the daylight, and for the first time ever, I saw what he looked like during the day. There were crimson stains that muddied his beautiful hair, and he was more gaunt than I remembered. He had a face of mournful rage—a face of regret and perpetual anger. I wished that I beheld his beauty for the first time during the day when he wasn’t shackled down by hate.

“Oh really?” he finally responded to me. As he talked, he scratched his blade against his own wrist. “I'm exactly who you thought I was. This is what you wanted.”

“This is not what I wanted. The man who did is long dead. This isn’t who you are—I know you now. I know—”

“What do you know!?” He shouted with a rapsy, quivering voice. His teeth clattered with every word.

There was then a pause in our conversation. The only sound was the wind, and it was sad and cold. There was no melody to be heard, only the occasional sound of distant, anguished cries. After a few moments, I saw part of Hunter break.

“You did this,” he said. “This is your fault. You brought this upon us…you killed her.” As the last of his words left his mouth, I heard the most genuine crack in his voice.

“...I did…you’re right,” I admitted. “I manifested this hate. But it’s not too late.”

“It is too late,” he coldly stated. “I’ve already made my choice…I am a monster.”

I took a step forward. “You are not! It’s never too late to change. Trust me.”

Hunter shook his head and took another step towards me. Slowly, the distance between us began to shrink. With each step he took, a trail of blood marked where he once was, growing longer the closer he got to me. And the closer we got, the stronger the wind blew and the denser the mist became.

“What else do I have?” he asked me, staring deep into my eyes. His eyes then drifted over to the pile of corpses. “You know, even my friends wanted me dead…” He then looked back at me and flicked the blood off of his hand. “So come on, see me for what I am: a monster.”

“I can’t anymore.”

“Look at what I’ve done. Look at these bodies!”

“I don’t care.”

“Look at my eyes! Hate me! Kill me!”

“I won’t.”

“Liar!” he screamed as he charged towards me, sword in one hand and claws extended on the other.

As he approached, I stood completely still. I never once withdrew my blade nor my whip. He pulled his sword back and plunged it deep into my abdomen. Then, using that running momentum, he leaped onto me and sunk his claw into my chest. The force of both attacks caused me to fall over on my back, and he remained on top of me, continually slashing at every piece of my exposed body.

“Fight back!” he demanded.

“No,” I replied. “I will never hurt you again.”

Releasing his grip on the jagged sword that was still submerged in my abdomen, he screamed, “Don’t say that! Don’t lie to me! All you people do is hurt me!” He then took that hand and raked it across my face, slicing my upper and lower lips open.

Then there was a moment of stillness. He continued to sit on top of me, but the attacks ceased. I saw his eyes wander all around me and to the pool of blood that I felt widening around me. My blood, for once, felt warm.

“Why won’t you fight back?” he asked, his face starting to break apart with what I sensed to be grief, mixed with an array of anger, sadness, and loneliness. It was the most simplistically complex expression I had ever seen. “Look at your blood…you’re losing so much. You’ll die if you don’t stop me.”

I, slowly and painfully, moved my head to one side, exposing the right side of my neck. “You’re not a monster…you’re just in pain,” I said to him. ”If you need it, then it’s yours. Take it. Take my blood.”

That’s when it broke…his expression. His eyes were the first to go. The thunderous, hardened yellow that once colored them was back to the soft, dandelion complexion that I was used to. Tears, like a cold, nighttime rain, came to flow out of them and down towards me. He leaned closer to me, and he did, those drops of water fell off of his body and onto mine. Specifically, they fell directly onto the valrose that was still on me. Within mere seconds, the flower withered away into nothing.

His mouth got right next to my neck. I could feel his warm, sporadic breath pulsate on me. It gently blew against me, wrapping around my neck, caressing it, and warming it like a mother’s loving embrace. And just like with love, there’s warmth and pain. I felt him bite down into my neck and suck. I felt the pulsing and pounding blood in my body rush out of that wound and into him.

Hunter pulled back and looked at me with the calmest eyes I had ever seen. In that moment, he embodied peace. The wild, bloodsoaked demeanor that seemed to plague him evaporated. As he sat above me, looking down like a lost child who had finally found his way, his eyes continued to soften, almost becoming like water. I stared into them as they looked back at me. They were mesmerizing. They were melancholic. They were nice.

But then they changed. Suddenly and drastically, they grew wide and afraid. There was a sudden pain that had emerged behind them.

As my vision retracted from its sole gaze of his eyes, I saw what had pained him so. Sticking out of his abdomen, trickling out fresh blood, was an arrow. Before I could even react, two more ramshackle arrows pierced him, causing his body to slightly reel back.

“Wha…” he uttered to himself, his voice muffled and cracked. His breathing began to once again accelerate, and his mouth was left agate, where small streams of blood began to flow out of.

It was then that I heard the sound of feet on stone behind me. Although they were a bit distant, they were getting louder. Accompanying that noise was yelling, screaming, and other human voices that were both in pain and enraged. The mob had finally come to claim its victim.

Still in a daze, Hunter slowly stood up and stared at the oncoming threat. Without looking at them, he pulled the arrows free, just as another one flew past his face. He then looked down at his bloodied hands, which held those arrows, and then down at me. Finally, his eyes glared back up. He stumbled back a few times as sweat and blood fell from his face. Still looking upon the mob as they grew closer, he picked up his jagged sword.

“Please,” I began to beg, “Hunter, don’t.” I tried to say more, but my pain forced my mouth shut. I wanted to call out to my friend, but the injuries I sustained made it impossible.

Slowly, Hunter backed up into the shadows. As the sounds of incoming death approached, my friend retreated further back. With clattering teeth, he whimpered, “I’m sorry.”

He took another step back, engulfing half of his face in shadow.

“I’m sorry.”

He immersed himself almost completely in darkness.

“I’m sorry.”

Finally, with just a quivering eye peering through the absolute shade, created by the rising sun, he looked down at me and said, “I’m sorry…I must leave,” before disappearing completely.

I tried to sit up. I tried to stand up. I even tried to reach a hand out to my friend, but I found that I had no more strength. And as the light of the world began to fade from my sight, I saw the legs of those humans stampede past me. Just as my eyes shut…I cried. And then it went dark—as dark as the night.