AU-gust Day #26: Monster Hunters AU
For every monster, there was a hunter.
And for every hunter, there was....the kill.
Hannibal had never been much of a monster hunter, but he was a very good killer.
His family, of course, didn’t know what type of thing he preferred to kill best but they didn’t need to know. He kept his private pleasures to himself, and blamed the deaths on the monsters among them. That’s what his parents and the townspeople wanted to believe, so he let them.
Then one morning he woke up to the sound of his mother’s scream and everything changed. Thieves burst through his home, tearing things apart, and killing everyone but him. Oh they tried to get him, the monsters they were, but he fought with all his might and they ran.
Hannibal hunted them down one by one for the next four years.
He had killed more humans by the time he was nineteen than his father had monsters his entire life. Hannibal still feigned his professional monster hunting ability, using his family’s name, and was hired by villages looking to rid themselves of a pesky ‘monster’ among them. Hannibal would often leave fake bones, blood, and scenes of carnage along his way in order to not do his job. Pretending to be a monster hunter was easier than being one, and he had no taste for it.
He was one of them, and it would be rude to judge.
His reputation grew the more ‘scenes’ he placed, and by the time he was in his thirties he was the only one who was called on when there was a monster problem. The letters always came in shaky scrawled hand, seeming urgent, and always ended with the same words.
Please, sir. We need you.
This letter though was different.
It wasn’t from a sheriff, or even a mayor.
No, this one when it came seemed to be even more scared shaky scrawl than usual. The first line gave him pause.
Please, sir. They are going to kill me.
Hannibal read on, intrigued, and learned that there was a monster in Wolf Trap, Virginia. They were eating chickens, it seemed, and the townspeople were circling around in fear pointing fingers. This letter was from one Will Graham, age nineteen, and he was the monster of Wolf Trap. He lived alone and harmed no one, but his hunger had grown beyond his control.
I could eat them all if I wanted to, sir. But I won’t. I won’t. I know you’ve helped others like me. They talk. I don’t want to die. I will do anything.
He smiled, reading the short letter again, and picked up his sword. His life so far had been one of fake monster hunting. Perhaps, it was time he went after the real monsters and helped out one of his own.
“I’m coming, Will,” he whispered, smiling, “They don’t stand a chance.”