Kat the Hunter - Cover

Kat the Hunter

Copyright© 2009 by Bad Writer

Chapter 1

The townhouse looked ready to collapse under its own weight. The houses on either side of it had already been boarded up by the city. The neighborhood itself was only a few steps short of a ghost town. Two men walked down the street; their long coats swinging with their quick strides, not paying any attention to the summer sun, or the few boys playing ball at the end of the block. The movements of the coats occasionally revealed shining silver underneath. Flashes of metal and cold stares from the strangers caused the kids to lose interest in their game and scatter to the winds.

When they arrived at the house the shorter of the two went around back to cover the rear entrance. The city's emergency warning system went off every Monday at noon to test its readiness, today that was the hunters' signal to enter the old house. Mark, the taller of two, entered the front room through the empty window frame off the front porch. It was clear except for a small scattering of old newspaper, the same for the middle room. George came in from the kitchen, signaling that the stairs to the basement were there. Mark motioned him to wait in the middle while he checked the upstairs. So far only a few creaking floorboards were the only sounds made by the two men. Upstairs was as empty as the first floor, far cleaner than most abandoned houses were. All that was left was the most dangerous part of the house, the basement, dark confined with only one exit.

Full spectrum headlights were strapped on, tuned to produce natural sunlight, crossbows readied, silver knives loosened in belts. The basement door opened quietly revealing inky darkness. No sound crept up, the only odors were the usual smells of a disused moldy space, the beams of their lamps cut through the dark with only dust motes swirling through. With a nod to George, Mark ducked down and leaped to the bottom crashing his shoulder into the wall, the crossbow was the only steady thing for a moment.

A wild screech echoed from below as a pale woman with wild hair slammed into Mark. His crossbow fired point-blank into her chest and yet she still battered him like a Doberman on a kitten. George dived down the steps onto the woman's back long knife in hand. Left arm wrapped around her face the knife sawed at her throat, yet still she beat the no longer struggling Mark. When the head finally parted from her body he fell backwards to the floor flinging the head away. That body turned on him where her head had been was the perfect black shape of it. She started to charge towards George when his head lamp shined directly on her shadow head. With a wailing cry she tried to block the light from hitting her there as she darted to the back of the cellar.

Still eying where she fled George checked to see if Mark still breathed. When he saw that his mentor was alright for now, George picked up his own crossbow and started to creep to the back. There it was in the far corner tugging at the bolt in its chest. The thing that was his sister couldn't be saved, he had no choice but to destroy what was left of her remains and hope his only sibling rested in peace. Pushed into the corner behind it was a toddler crying and clutching at the monster. That would have been his niece, now he wasn't sure what it could be.

Another shot and its hand was pinned to the chest. She started to charge him again but shining the light on her shadow head pushed her back. He reloaded again and again, finally pinning her to the wall. It took hours pulling her apart bit by bit, sawing with his his silver blade. The wood from bolts held the shadow in place yet it still had the full three dimensional shape of a woman. Shining both sunlight lamps on its shadow shape finally dissolved it in shrieks and screams. The little girl cried in the fetal position the whole time.

George dropped the girl off with the Enlightened Sisters. Mark would live but he would never hunt again, you couldn't do that from a wheelchair.

Katherine Mary Sebastian was moving through her latest Tai Chi form when Sister Elisa came out into the yard. The middle aged nun waited quietly till Kat finished the slow graceful moves. Her long dark hair was damp with sweat and hung nearly to her waist. Pale skin flushed with the exercise this was about the only time you find Kat outside, she preferred inside activities like chess or basketball. The nuns insisted that she take at least a little time each day outside when the weather was nice. Her morning martial arts seemed a good compromise.

Kat grinned,"Same bet as last time, Sister? I win, you break the vow of silence. You win, I keep quiet for a week."

Sister Elisa smiled her acknowledgment and immediately launched into a series of windmill like kicks. Kat danced around and underneath the attacks waiting her chance to strike back. When the chance came the young girl went for a leg sweep knuckle strike combination. The move even though executed flawlessly, failed to connect with the whirling nun. Back and forth the fight went for over fifteen minutes before Katherine ended up on her back with Sister Elisa kneeling on her chest ready to deliver a palm strike. Kat was able to sign her surrender. It wasn't the first time or even the tenth time that she had spent a week silent thanks to Elisa.

The following day whispers trailed behind Katherine as the other day school students noticed the fresh bruises on her. Since she never spoke after this happened, it was often theorized that Kat got into horrible trouble on the weekends when she was the only student left with the Sisters. They knew she wouldn't talk for awhile and even when she was speaking again the incident wouldn't be referred to by her. The classes that day were very well behaved as the other teens saw what they believed was the nuns wrath on Kat. She had an undeserved reputation as the school bad girl who would just as soon beat you as talk with you.

Katherine was unconcerned about the other girls reactions, since she felt the nuns were family and the other students just passing distractions. When she entered the school for the first time she had already been under the care of the order for over two years. Now fourteen years later she was on the verge of graduating no closer to her fellows than that first day. For the rest, Kat was a ghost in classes who spoke when spoken to, played in sports without the camaraderie that existed between the others, a mystery they would never unravel.

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