There was a certain thrill to running with the pack. The pounding in his heart matching the pounding footsteps of him and the ones he trusted with his life. Moving as one; one breath, one look, one kill… one second. All it took for him to bring his prey down was a split second. They stopped fighting back and their body went limp. The pack revelled in its kill, left the body there and walked back home in good spirits. Another traitor to the crown, brought down. But Salem couldn’t help but feel his own heart sink as his prey’s stopped beating. Was this really what he was meant for? To be used as nothing more than a hunting dog? The rush of freedom was certainly something he’d never turn down, but… recently, he’d started to doubt whether or not this was truly something he should be doing. He scolded himself for allowing himself to be so empathic to some poor soul who’d been stupid -or brave- enough to challenge the ones he’d sworn his life to. I allow myself to get emotional a single time and this is where it gets me, Salem thought to himself. Best I leave the philosophy to my sister and the other higher-ups. I’m not paid to feel sorry for the prey.
And yet, a little part of him knew that something wasn’t right.
*
Salem had never quite fit in with the others in the Raven Army. Many were either afraid, or simply didn’t care enough to bother to talk to him. He’d earned his position through bloodshed, and apparently his reputation was more respectable than he was. The young man they all saw in the headquarters was definitely not the same man they saw prowling around the forests that surrounded the kingdom, claiming his territory with wicked steel and glowing eyes. The man in front of them was quiet and reserved, nothing like the fearsome hunter all the others spoke of. He hadn’t spoken to anyone outside his pack since he’d first joined.
He didn’t mind. He preferred it that way.
All along, as far back as he could remember, Salem knew his life was going to be tough. His earliest memory was of his first kill, as painful as that was to admit. He was born a killer, and, by the looks of it, he’d die a killer too. It was in his nature, in his very blood.
Salem was one of the first successful products of a series of experiments to create the perfect biological killing machine. A perfect blend of human wit and pure animalistic heartlessness. Their sight, hearing, their speed- nothing was ignored. Everything that could be enhanced, was. When Salem looked in the mirror, he often found himself thinking about what he was. He found an answer, after a while.
He was a beast.
To say that he cared in the slightest would be ridiculous; sheer insanity, even. He’d laugh it off, sharp teeth glinting, and he’d send you off on the rest of your day. Only those who truly paid attention would notice that the smile didn’t quite meet his eyes.
*
It was supposed to be a quick job. Get in, get out. The place had been scouted ahead of time so they could plan the best entrance, if anything could be torched in an emergency, that sort of thing. Given how hushed the whole mission was, Salem was expecting a big fuss.
What he stood in front of seemed to be the very opposite. It was a tiny house, stone walls and a straw roof. The stone looked like it was one good breeze away from turning into dust, and the word ‘old’ didn’t even do the roof justice. He found it hard to believe that anyone even lived there- it didn’t seem fit for humans.
Apparently, he was wrong. He came in through the back door of the house and sure enough, someone was sleeping in the bed. His heart started racing, preparing him for the fight that was about to inevitably unfold. He stalked up to the figure in the bed. For the briefest moment, he wondered why only he and his sister had been sent for this mission, if it was so important. But that didn’t matter right now. The Doves had ordered this person’s execution, and that meant that they had to die. It was very simple.
Salem had no remorse as he held his knife in one hand, and reached out with the other. He found the person’s shoulder and in mere moments, they were pressed up against the crumbling walls of the house, a knife pressed to their throat. The blanket shifted off his prey’s face and he caught a glimpse of his victim.
His eyes were closed, and he was unresponsive. Were it not for Salem’s unnatural hearing picking up on his breathing, he would’ve suspected that he was dead. The boy finally woke, and his confused eyes took everything in as he tried to understand what happened. Salem couldn’t help but notice the similarity between the boy in his hands and the rabbits in the wild when they were trapped between his teeth. As his eyes widened and his hands slowly raised up to try to keep Salem away, Fiadh kicked down the front door and checked all the shadows for any threats. Every time she placed her boots down, a little bit of dust from the rafters fell down onto their heads.
‘Ah, you found the target. Get rid of it and we’ll be on our way.’
The boy was practically whimpering now. He desperately held onto Salem’s hands, trying to push the cold blade away from him. Normally, Salem would just end his life right there. Something about the boy caught his eye, though, something imperceptible to any normal human. Salem made up his mind at that very moment. If he had a change of heart later, he could just kill him.
He leaned in close to the terrified boy. Silvery tears were falling down his face but no words came out of his mouth when he tried to speak.
‘When I let go of you, you’re going to fall to the floor and pretend you’re dead. Don’t get up til I’m back. You got that?’
A small pause. He gave a shaky nod, but he still had the expression of an animal that knows it’s trapped. As Salem let go of the boy and he dropped to the floor with a hollow thud, lifting up more dust around them, a few drops of blood splashed to the floor. Salem held his bleeding arm close to the boy’s still body- so he can play dead after all, huh?- and he got to work spreading it over the floor to pretend like he’d finished the job.
‘Finally. Took you long enough on this one. Stop desecrating the corpse and let’s just head back for the debrief.’
Salem looked back at his sister, then back to the body on the floor. He got up and walked across the house in long strides before slamming the door behind him. Half the roof caved in with the force. As he walked away, he couldn’t help but wonder at his punishment should the Doves found out what he’d done. Defying orders wasn’t exactly something that carried a light sentence. Hell, his own pack might go after him.
Let them, he thought.
*
How long had he been lying on the ground for? He still wasn’t even completely sure what had happened. Now he was lying on the ground, waiting for the return of a stranger who’d pushed a knife against his throat and then asked him to play dead. He was lying in a small pool of that same stranger’s blood, and he didn’t even know why.
In conclusion, Ichor’s day wasn’t going very well.
He wasn’t sure it was going to get better, either.
