Hunter's Legacy

Alexander

Waking up at eight in the morning never agreed with him but Alexander Sutton shrugged it off as he slapped the top of his alarm clock. Groaning as he rolled over, Alexander threw his legs over the side of the bed and stretched his arms over his head, before bringing his hands back down and wiping the sleep from his eyes. Yawning, he stood up and moved over to his desk, where his books were still open and splayed across the top.

Papers with writing scribbled on it still covered the top, plus highlighted pages, and pages with black lines under every other paragraph.

That’s right, he thought, scrubbing his hand over his face, the test is today.

Alexander dragged his feet over to his closet and dragged out his clothes for the day. He dragged his feet out of his room and groaned at the mess that was leftover from the night before. Alexander moved pizza boxes out from in front of the coffee maker and commenced making the coffee.

Once it was done, Alexander grabbed a travel mug from the cabinet above the coffee pot, and filled the travel mug, capped it, and then opened the door…coming face to face with Vanessa, his best friend. She held colored flashcards in her hands and started firing off questions for the latest biology test.

Alexander answered every one, in between sips of coffee.

“You studied,” Vanessa said, sounding impressed.

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Alexander said, taking the flashcards from her hands, as they reached Vanessa’s beat-up Volvo. She’d had the car since she was sixteen—so, a good three years ago—but it wasn’t new to begin with, and Alexander was surprised that it was running.

She slid into the driver’s seat, he slid into the passenger seat, taking the flashcards from her, as she started the car, and put it in gear. Alexander took his turn, quizzing Vanessa; he chuckled at the way she answered a question.

“Right concept, right method, but I don’t think the wording is quite what our Professor wants,” Alexander chuckled. Alexander’s smile faded and his head began to throb.

“Alexander, are you okay?” Vanessa questioned. Her voice seemed far away, and he felt something touch his arm.

The edges of his vision went blurry, as though he was seeing the world through some kind of tunnel. He saw a dark-blue car coming right at them, T-boning Vanessa’s side, leaving them both unconscious.

Alexander blinked away the picture in his mind, finding himself still in the passenger seat and Vanessa still driving along the busy road.

“Alexander, are you okay?” Vanessa said, looking at him with worried eyes.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Alexander said, looking up at her with a reassuring smile. Vanessa was still watching him, warily, and was about to drive through an intersection. Alexander noticed the car before she did; he grabbed the wheel and yanked it towards him; they skid to a stop just short of the crosswalk as the dark blue car came barreling through the intersection.

“Whoa,” Vanessa said, as the two of them looked at each other, as they listened to the sirens sound throughout the city, “How did you see that? I mean, I wasn’t exactly paying attention either but…wow.”

“I…don’t know,” Alexander whispered, feeling shaken. They finished the drive to the university, in silence.

They entered their biology class in silence; the both of them still shaken from the incident on the way to the school. The class fell silent as the biology professor entered the room; he gazed around the room before he reached into his briefcase and pulled out a thick stack of papers. The professor went on to explain the test, as he approached each row and handed them a packet of papers to pass back.

Alexander received his packet of papers and he looked through them, his eyes scanning over each question and the four multiple-choice answers that accompanied them. This would be easy.

“You have two hours,” The Professor said, looking up at the digital clock that was situated next to a large poster of a human body diagram, “and begin.”

The only sound that could be heard throughout the room was the scratching of pencils on paper. Forty-five minutes into the exam, Alexander’s head throbbed again, as he was looking over a test question.

Once again, his vision blurred and this time it narrowed, as though he were seeing things through a tunnel.

Alexander saw a darkened room, men and women dressed in black suits. Diana, his long-time girlfriend of two years, laid on the ground, in the middle of the darkened room. A man in a black suit snapped his fingers, and Diana woke; she looked around in worry, and tried to scurry away, when two men stepped up to either side of her, grabbing her arms in vice-like grips, causing Diana to whimper.

“Where is the boy?” one of the men asked, his voice coming out like a snake’s hiss, as he put his face close to Diana’s.

“W-what boy?” Diana whimpered. The man made a fist, and Diana screamed out, as though she were being tortured. The man had unfurled his fist, and Diana lay limp, in the grasp of the two men who stood on either side of her.

“I’ll just do this the easy way,” the first man said. A red glow appeared around him, and then a black shadow seemed to rip from him. the man’s body fell to the floor, and the glowing-eyed shadow proceeded to fuse itself to Diana.

“No!” Alexander shouted. The darkened room, the people, Diana…had it all been a dream? Some weirdly vivid, dream?

“Mr. Sutton, is there a problem?” the professor asked, his eyebrows raised. Alexander didn’t answer. Flipping the packet closed, he put his pencil and binder back in his bag, picked up his test, slung his backpack over his shoulder and ran down the stairs, slapping his test on the Professor’s podium, before he bounded out the door.

Alexander stopped outside the science building and ran to the parking lot. He breathed heavily, almost hyperventilating, as he stood there. Once he got his breathing regulated, he walked to the parking lot, searching for his car.

That’s right, it’s not here, Alexander mentally groaned, realizing that his car was back at his apartment. His heart sped up again, and he pulled out his phone, seeing that it was only ten in the morning, he dialed Diana’s number.

“Come on, pick up,” he muttered. Her phone rang five times before it went to voicemail. Alexander was about to start walking towards her dorm when he froze, an idea coming to mind; he jogged back down the parking lot, stopping when he found Vanessa’s Volvo. Vanessa had a bad habit of leaving her keys in her car, and Alexander looked through the passenger window, hoping beyond hope, that she ignored his protests about it. He was relieved to see the keys dangling from the key hole.

Going around to the other side, Alexander opened the door and slid into the driver’s seat. Closing the door and starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot. Alexander drove the mile to the girls’ dorms.

Bounding out of the Volvo, Alexander ran up the walkway, catching the heavy door before it could shut all the way and he wouldn’t be able to get in, as another woman entered the building. Taking the stairs two at a time, Alexander arrived at the first floor and ran all the way to the other end of the hall. Reaching the last door, he knocked, urgently.

Heart beating fast, Alexander waited in front of the dorm room door; soon—not soon enough for Alexander—and Theresa, Diana’s roommate answered the door.

“Is Diana here?” he asked. Theresa looked behind her, into the room, and then shook her head.

“She wasn’t here this morning, I assumed she stayed with you after studying,” Theresa shrugged.

“Thanks,” Alexander said, bounding away from the room, and out of the building. He slid into the car and drove away from the building.

Camille

“Where are we going, again?” I asked, as we drove along the highway.

“Do you ever read the file?” Natasha asked, sounding mildly frustrated.

“Not really,” I shrugged, and I heard pages rustling.

“We’re headed to Crescent City, California,” Natasha replied, “You really should read the file more often.”

“Didn’t we learn from our last case, that files can be misleading?” I asked, looking at Natasha with a raised eyebrow, “Anyway, what’s the name?”

“His name is Alexander Sutton, he’s nineteen and goes lives in Crescent City, with roommates; he’s been on his own for a year, but his parents still live in the area,” Natasha read the file, word for word.

“And? What else is there?” I prompted. The file sounded more like an internet profile than anything else.

“Like what?” Natasha asked.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe the reason that we’re driving a hundred and some-odd miles to get to Crescent City?” I asked, sarcastically. We came to a stop and I looked over as Natasha opened the file and peered at the front page

“He suffers from severe headaches,” Natasha read out.

“Please tell me your kidding,” I said, reaching over and taking the file. I read the words for myself. A scoff made its way out of my mouth, and I dropped the file in the space between us and shook my head, looking up at the evening sky. We had been driving for a day and a half, stopping here and there to get some rest and some food, and I thought we were heading to a big case; a werewolf, a vampire—present company excluded—and now I find out that we’re going to play doctor to a kid with headaches.

“Maybe we don’t know the whole story,” Natasha said, and I heard papers rustling again, like she was putting them back together.

“Maybe,” I said, as we started moving again. I hoped that was the case, because, if I wasn’t, I was going to be seriously pissed off.

We pulled into Crescent City, just as the sun crested the horizon. As soon as I entered the town, a bad feeling spread through me. We stopped at a red light, at an intersection that was placed between a motel and a supermarket.

“Aren’t we going to check in?” Natasha asked, looking at the motel as we passed it.

“Later,” I said, continuing to drive through the streets, “Does that file have an address?”

“1818 Rolling Lane, apartment 217,” Natasha read the address from the file and I started glancing up at street signs. It took us ten minutes, but we finally pulled along the curb of a tan-colored duplex.

Putting my gun in my belt, I made sure it was well-hidden, as was the knife that I slipped into my boot. “Ready?” I asked Natasha, “Remember, be on your guard; we don’t know if they’re human or monster.” Natasha nodded once, and then we stepped out of the car.

I walked around it and stepped onto the curb, falling into step with Natasha, as she walked up the walkway. The inside of the building was air-conditioned, and, aside from a small window, some mailboxes, a potted plant—that was wilted and dried out—and a staircase leading up to the second floor, there wasn’t much.

Natasha followed me as I led the way up the narrow staircase; we stopped at the second-floor landing and looked down the long hallway. We walked down the hallway and, towards the end of it, we saw apartment 217.

Natasha took hold of the knife that she kept in her belt, while my one hand wrapped around the handle of my gun, which was still situated at the back of my belt. I raised my free hand and rapped on the wooden door, hopefully it was loud enough to be heard over the blaring music on the other side.

It took a minute, but the door eventually opened to reveal a guy wearing nothing buy basketball shorts. He leaned against the door frame, arms crossed and an amused look on his face, as his eyes roamed over our bodies.

I fought the urge to punch him in the throat and I glanced over at Natasha, who looked like she was fighting some urges of her own.

“Hi, does Alexander Sutton live here?” I asked, making my voice light and airy—non-intimidating.

“He sure does babe, but he’s not here right now,” the guy said, raking his eyes down my body once more, “Anything I can help you with?”

“Do you know where he is? We’re his cousins and its really important that we find him,” I answered, wanting nothing more than to wipe that leering look off his face.

“I think he mentioned something about having some kind of test at the university, today,” the guy said, “You’re more than welcome to wait here, if you want.” He turned, and I saw another guy lounging on the couch, a video game controller in his hand, and he was surrounded by pizza boxes and empty plastic cups.

“No thanks, we’ll just come back later,” I said, hitching a smile on my face, and nudging Natasha back down the hall. We were at the landing of the staircase, before I heard the click of the door shutting in the quiet hallway.

“Are we going to the school?” Natasha asked, as we walked out of the building.

“Yes,” I said, shortly, as we approached the car, “Was it me, or did you want to smack that guy upside the head, too?”

“No, I didn’t want to smack him upside the head,” Natasha replied, sliding into the passenger seat, as I slid into the driver’s seat, “I wanted to dig my fingers into his leering eyes and then pull his head off.”

We pulled up to the college, just in time to see people walk out of the building.

“Do we have a picture of this kid?” I asked. Natasha grabbed the file and flipped open the first page, and then handed me the file. Staring back at us, was the picture of a guy, with sandy brown hair, and light brown eyes, a small nose, and a thin mouth, all presented in a tanned face. I looked up, as if expecting him to pop out of the crowd. When he didn’t, I sighed, realizing that it wasn’t going to be this easy.

We got out of the car and attempted to blend in, covertly and discreetly, looking at people, hoping to identify someone as Alexander Sutton; nobody fit the description. Natasha nudged my arm, and I looked over, hoping she might have finally identified him. She nodded towards a girl, about my age, her dark hair was pulled into a braid, and she looked utterly lost.

We walked to her, and Natasha put a hand on her shoulder, making her look up with wide and wary eyes.

“Are you okay?” Natasha asked. The girl looked like she was almost on the verge of tears, “do you want to sit down?” she nodded and allowed Natasha to lead her to a nearby bench, “What is your name?” Natasha asked.

“V-Vanessa,” she said, in a wobbly voice.

“What happened, Vanessa?” I asked, taking a seat on the other side of her.

“Well, Alexander left in the middle of our biology exam. He-he took my car,” Vanessa said, and she seemed to be shaking. I shot a look at Natasha, over Vanessa’s head.

“Alexander Sutton?” I asked, when she nodded, I added, "Is that a big deal?"

“That he took my car? Not really. I just studied so hard for this test and, after Alexander rushed out and I—I couldn’t focus,” Vanessa shook and tears streamed down her cheeks.

“What kind of car do you have?” I asked.

“A 1998 Volvo S70,” Vanessa said, wiping away tears, only to have more fall in their place, “is he in trouble or something?”

“No, he’s not in trouble,” Natasha said, soothingly, “We’ll take you to your home, okay?” I looked up at Natasha, silently conveying that we didn’t have time to play taxi service. Natasha narrowed her eyes, and I rolled mine, but nodded once. We all stood up and made their way to my car; Vanessa gave us directions and sat, silently, as we rode.

We pulled up in front of a squared building, and Vanessa grabbed her bag, getting out of the car, and then she leaned on the passenger-side door.

“Would you mind going past Alexander’s mom’s house? I would like to know that he’s alright, and if he’s anywhere, he’ll be there,” Vanessa told us. Natasha and I shared a look, and the we looked back at Vanessa.

“Yeah, sure,” Natasha said, “Where exactly does she live?”

“31505 mockingbird lane, about ten minutes from here,” Vanessa said, “thank you for the ride, by the way.” With that, Vanessa pushed herself off of the passenger side window, and turned, walking into the building behind her.

We pulled away from the curb, and into the road, as I started scanning street signs for mockingbird lane. The sign stood on the right side of the road, and Natasha nudged my arm, pointing to it, right before I passed it.

“A little forewarning would have been nice,” I mumbled, as I turned down the street. I drove slowly, looking for both the car and the house.

“That’s it,” Natasha said, looking up ahead and nodding. On the left was a two-story house that was painted pastel yellow with white trim, a white picket fence was in front of it, and the yard had bushes and planter boxes were meticulously placed here and there. We pulled up behind the Volvo, fitting the same description that Vanessa gave us.

“Let’s go.”

Alexander

The scents of tomatoes and spices filled the house, as Alexander walked in.

“Mom?” he called. Her car was in the driveway, he knew she was here. He followed the scent to the kitchen and found his mom standing at the stove, stirring a pot of tomato sauce and Diana was standing there, at the island counter, chopping green onions. She looked up and smiled; it was a different smile though, I didn’t quite reach her eyes and there was a certain coldness to it—and that wasn’t Diana.

“Hi, Alexander!” she dropped the knife and walked around the island and approached him. Confusion flooded through Alexander, as she lifted on her toes and kissed him. That was it, this wasn’t Diana—at least not his Diana. His Diana never showed public displays of affection; she especially found it to be in poor taste when a couple right out made-out in front of their family members, so she was careful to keep the PDA to a minimum.

“Hi, Diana,” he said, uneasily, “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you at school?”

“I wanted to surprise you,” she said, as she resumed chopping the green onions.

“Isn’t that sweet?” Mrs. Sutton said, adoringly, although Alexander could tell that she thought something was wrong, too. Alexander started moving towards her when a blinding pain hit his head, and he collapsed.

Like earlier, his vision narrowed, as if he was looking through a tunnel and he saw two women—one blond and pale and the other was a brunette with peach-colored skin. They were in a car, their destination unknown.

Alexander’s vision came back to him and he was looking up into Diana’s expectant face.

“What did you see?” she asked, seriously.

“What are you talking about?” Alexander asked. She was clearly crazy.

“What did you see?” her teeth were clenched and she was seething. Alexander thought he saw her eyes flash blood red.

“N-Nothing,” Alexander stuttered. Diana pursed her lips and pushed herself up; she walked back over to the counter. Alexander scrambled up to his feet, and looked at his mother, who looked scared for her life. He tried to reach her, but, before he could, Diana grabbed the knife, that she had been using to chop onions, grabbed Mrs. Sutton, and held the blade to her throat.

“Careful Love,” Diana said, her voice was low and it echoed, as though the house around them had incredible acoustics, “Mommy, here, might not last much longer if you don’t give me the information I need.” She pressed the knife to Mrs. Sutton’s neck, and a thin trail of blood started its way down.

“Don’t,” Alexander said, “I will tell you whatever you want, just let her go, please.”

“Good,” Diana said. A definitive crack echoed through the house, and then Mrs. Sutton fell to the floor, motionless.

“Mom,” Alexander whispered, dropping to the floor and putting his fingers on her neck; no pulse. Alexander felt the hot rush of tears hit his eyes and then the slipped down his face like rushing streams. He looked up, as hatred spread through his veins like a virus, as he looked up at Diana, who sat on the counter, spinning the knife between her fingers and looking bored, “You said that you’d let her go.”

“I know what I said,” Diana responded, hopping off the counter, “I never said I’d let her go alive.” Alexander went to grab her, but she held up her hand, closing it in a fist; he felt pressure on his throat, but she didn’t lay a hand on him, “Now, as I recall, you said that you’d tell me. What did you see?”

“Go to hell,” Alexander spat.

“Been there, done that,” Diana said, in a bored tone, “I guess I could torture you…but I don’t want to hurt that pretty face.” Still holding her hand in a fist, Diana used he other hand to drag the knife’s blade down Alexander’s front; he knew that, if he hadn’t been wearing a shirt, she would’ve drawn blood.

Before Diana could make another move, before Alexander could sputter another word, the glass on the windows broke and two women rolled into the kitchen. They both jumped to their feet, and Alexander couldn’t believe his eyes; two women—one blond and pale, and the other was brunette with peach-colored skin—the two women from his vision.

“Let him go,” the brunette woman said, her eyes trained on Diana the entire time.

“Hunter,” Diana hissed. She spun around, losing her focus on Alexander and allowing him to drop to the ground in a heap. Alexander scrambled to the other side of the island counter, but he stuck his head around the side, watching the scene with interest. Diana’s head whipped in the direction of the blond woman, “Blood sucker. I thought Hunters didn’t work with monsters.”

“Let the boy go,” the brunette woman repeated, her voice harder, her eyes never leaving Diana.

“Master wants him,” Diana hissed again. Where she had sounded almost human a few minutes ago, now she just sounded like a monster, herself.

“Why?” the blond woman asked. Diana just hissed and then jumped at her, knocking her to the floor. Alexander watched, unable to tear his eyes away from the scuffle, as they rolled around the floor, Diana hissing like a wild animal. The brunette woman charged forward, and kicked Diana off of the blond woman, helping her up, before the both of them faced off against Diana.

Diana ran at them knife branded, and the blond woman was quick enough to grab her arm, twist it, and flipped her, as though she weighed nothing. Not being deterred, Diana popped up and ran at the brunette woman, kicking her in the back and making her land on her face.

The brunette woman groaned and rolled over, shielding her mid-section as Diana delivered a series of kicks to her.

Alexander didn’t know where it came from, but the blonde woman pulled out a sword. There seemed to be a glowing blue aura around it, and the blonde woman swung it over her head with expertise. The blonde woman acted as though she was going to stab Diana in the back, but Diana, as though anticipating it, danced out of the way.

Keeping the sword trained on Diana, the blond woman helped the brunette woman up, and, she too, drew out a glowing sword.

“Oh, silly Hunters,” Diana mocked, “You can’t protect him forever.” With that, there was a tearing sound rang throughout the kitchen, and Diana’s body fell to the floor, while a shadowy figure remained standing. This figure had blood red eyes and was damn-near transparent. Its eyes crinkled up, as if it were smiling, and then it sailed along the wall and out the open window.

“D-Diana?” Alexander asked, in a shaky voice. He crawled over to her and put his fingers to her neck; her pulse was faint, but it was there.

“She should be okay,” the blond woman said, lying a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“We need to go,” the brunette woman said, in a no-nonsense tone, “We need to go before they’re totally upon us.”

“Who?” Alexander asked. he could feel the tears in his eyes again. What was happening?

“Come on,” the blond woman said, coaxing him to stand up, “We will keep you safe.”

“I can’t just leave them,” Alexander said, feeling helpless as he looked at the dead body of his mother and the unconscious body of his girlfriend.

“You can and you have to,” the brunette woman said, coldly, “We have to go.” Alexander didn’t fight and allowed the blond woman to lead him out of the house and to a 1968 Chevelle. Alexander climbed in back, while the two women climbed in front. He stared out of the window, watching the scenery pass by him, watching as he left behind his whole life, with no idea where he was going.