The Huntsman

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Otis stemmed his pain by pushing all of his agony into a laugh that sounded of a hyena. “He’s behind you. He’s above you. He’s in front of you.” He rolled into more laughter, a crazy mad-scientist kind of laugh that made my blood shiver.

I glanced over my shoulder. No one was around. I turned back to Otis. “I’m going to kill you.” I thought if I said it enough it would turn out true.

“If I fail, he’ll send another.”

A sliver of ice ran down my spine.

My nerves knitted into a prickly rope.

I finally understood I was the prey.

“Who will he send?”

Otis smiled as he sat up. He lifted his sleeve. Tattooed on his left wrist was a thick black spiral. “Another huntsman.”

I stopped breathing. My heart flapped at irregular beats. My sister was dead, I was trying to kill a regular, and there was a shadow overhead, but none of that scared me as much as the Huntsmen. They were a secret society, a group of men skilled in killing humanity’s aberrations. They were a bedtime story my mom used to tell Shar and me. “Be careful of what’s lurking in your shadow,” my mom used to say. “It might be the Huntsmen.”

My stomach tightened. “They don’t exist.”

Otis laughed. “He says you look scared, because deep down you know they exist. My daddy was one, until he was killed by one of you.”

“I’m not scared,” I said, but as a long shadow draped over me, I jumped. I looked up into the trees.  “Who’s up there?”

“Does it matter? You’re a wolf without a pack, and lone wolves don’t last long. You’ll be hunted until the end of your days, which aren’t many.”

My mind tumbled and then slipped into gear, cranking out scenarios of my torture and death. I wasn’t like Otis. I wasn’t a regular guy. I was a kid with something wild inside me, but it didn’t mean I deserved to die. It didn’t mean Shar should have been killed.

“They won’t find me,” I said, “but they will find you.”

Otis laughed. “We’ll see.”

I charged him, and we tumbled. Otis tried to gouge my skin with his broken blade, but I was too fast. I ripped into him. His flesh was thin and chewy and stuck to the roof of my mouth like peanut butter. The shadow settled above me, but I didn’t stop. I left a trail of Otis: flesh, muscle, fat, and bone.

The shadow darted overheard. “Who’s there? I’m not afraid of you.”

“But you are.” It was a peppy voice, full of cheer.

I turned. A shadow stood. Its form wobbled, the blackness condensing into human shape. First there were legs and arms, and then a head. The smoky shadow dissipated, revealing a man. He had thick fire-red hair, pale skin, and black eyes. He was dressed in black pants, a white button-up shirt and a teal vest.

The man flashed a smile and winked. “I will admit it was fun-fun-fun watching you play with Otis.” He hopped forward and tipped his head. “But you still have to die.”

I wanted to charge him but held my legs steady. “You’re the one who told Otis to kill my sister?”

He nodded, with a wide grin.

“You want me dead, too?”

“It’s nothing personal; just my duty. You are an impure breed, all creatures are, and because of it they need to be destroyed.” His white smile flickered. “You are nothing but a wolf in human skin. You are a rabid dog.”

“What are you? A shadow? A man?”

He hopped up and floated toward me. I braced for impact, but he dropped down in front of me and winked. “I am Iapetus. I am the piercer of minds. If I could twist your brain and make you kill yourself, I would, but since I can’t, I’ll send someone else to do the job. Unlike Otis, who was stupid and untrained, the next one will be skilled and methodical.”

My knuckles popped as I balled my hand into a fist. “You’ll send another huntsman?”

Iapetus winked. “They are my servants. They will hunt you down and skin you alive, just because I tell them to.”

I shook my head. “No, they won’t. You won’t get the chance to tell them to.”

I punched Iapetus in the jaw.

I jabbed my nails into his chest.

At least, that’s what I tried to do.

Iapetus didn’t move, but my jab and slash went through him as if he were nothing but a cloud of smoke. “That was fun-fun-fun.” He winked and then twirled up into the air, his human form dispersing into a fuzzy black shadow. “Of course, you’ll run now, and you’ll hide. If the next huntsman doesn’t find you, something else will.”

Iapetus’ shadow disappeared into the tops of the trees. My legs buckled, but I stayed righted, biting down every emotion that flared under my skin.

I was afraid.

I was angry.

I was lonely.

But I pushed forward. I cleaned up in the murky stream and then collected Shar. I’d head home and bury her next to our mother. Then, I’d pack a bag and leave the only home and woods I knew. I’d find a way to kill the Huntsmen before they killed me.

I studied the tangle of shadows meshed in the trees. Iapetus wasn’t there. But the smell of greasy carcass and smoke hung in the air, and the August heat baked the scent into foulness. I inhaled each gobbet of fat and tendril of smoke with dread. The Huntsmen were in my shadow.

Read the sequel, published October 24, 2015 in Wild Violet: “The Society”

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