“ I’m a Monster hunter, ma’am. “ The gruff voiced, hooded man spoke, pausing to lick his lips before he finished. “One of the best. “ He said, matter-of-factly. The woman before him was aged and trembling, holding her shawl together with her calloused, overworked hand. She started to speak two, or maybe three times, but the words never got out. She motioned with her free hand in some indiscernible fashion, perhaps shaping out what she meant, but the words never came to her, and thusly they could not be passed unto the ‘Monster hunter.’
He held up his hand after a significant amount of time had passed. He looked past the women, behind her in an old barn house. He’d heard something. His eyes narrowed, and his shaggy chin squared. “ In case you did not understand me, that means I will do what I can to ‘fix’ your problem. And by that I mean I will kill this thing for you. And that definitely seems to be the case, but I need you to understand me. “ He stared at her in the face. “ I will need half of my payment up front, in addition to a travelling fee. I need food, as does my horse. “ She nodded hastily, and loosed her shawl, reaching into the pocket in her worn-out apron, procuring a number of silver and copper coins. She held them out for the man, and he offered up his large, black-gloved hand and she dropped the coins into it. He used his other hand to finger them over, counting them. “ This is too much, ma’am. Take the rest. “ He said, pocketing a number of them, but giving her at least half of the silvers back. “ Now, I need you to understand me again. Leave. Go to the inn, or to a cousin’s house, but if you do not see me again tonight then abandon this farmstead. For two things would have happened. I, ma’am, will be dead. And the beast will have destroyed everything you love. “
With that he patted her on the shoulder, and placed one hand on the dark-metal pommel of the sword on his hip. He moved surgically past her toward the barn house.
“ B-but.. “ She finally started with a raise of her hand, halting the man’s progress. “ P-please don’t kill it, it's.. It’s my daughter. “ She finished. The man exhaled deeply. He started to speak, but stopped himself, grinding his teeth slightly.
“ I’ll try. “ He responded coldly. Before continuing, as if he had never stopped, his hand still firmly gripped on his sword, the other pulling down his hood to free up his vision, and unclasping his dark cloak. He reached the door, and exhaled before he touched the knob. He needed to know what he was facing before he entered, so he began to listen. There were crashes and sounds of metal banging against metal, and against wood and the sound of claws against walls and soft feet against the floor. Soft feet? That last bit intrigued him.
“ Just what are you? “ He whispered to himself, before turning the knob carefully, and stepping in gently, the soft soles of his shoes making no sound. The creaking of the door, however much he tried to quiet it, must have given him away as the sounds had stopped momentarily before they started making their way toward him. “ Stay back! “ He shouted loudly, if for no reason other than to halt the monster for the half second he needed to reach into his black, quilted tunic and retrieve a small, dark purple, and glowing vial. The contents climbed and clawed violently at the walls around it, and the glow that it bore would go in and out like a rapid heartbeat.
The monster burst out of whatever room it had been ransacking previously and charged toward the man who had just loosed the vial in it’s direction. Her direction, he remembered. The vial exploded upon contact with her skin? Fur? Feathers? He couldn’t tell at this point, because although the explosion had afforded him momentary vision it was still pitch black in the building. The creature—the girl—screamed out as the fluid bound her to herself, and began climbing on and around her briefly. She tossed herself violently about in a futile attempt to get free, but ended up tripping herself. The whatever-it-was once housed in the vial had bound itself to the girl and to the ground, and it seemed that the more she struggled the more she became trapped.
The man pulled out another vial, this time one glowing bright oranges and reds and yellows, much like fire. He held it close to her face? And made out eyes, sideways, slit-like pupils dilating into large black circles around her red irises. Her skin was a dark grey, and her nostrils were flared, and her arms had a thick fur on them, as did her hands, which had long nails, much like claws. Her left arm was heavily muscled, as was the majority of her torso, the most transformed part of her. “ A Lycanthrope? No, their transformations are more complete. And I’ve never seen one with eyes like this. What are you, girl? “ He asked, mainly to himself.
