The Dark of Night

1051 Words
It had been twenty years since the night I decided to become a hunter, but I didn’t regret it. My uncle and great-grandfather made sure I was well-trained in many different martial arts, sword and knife-wielding, gun use, and had a cursory knowledge of other weaponry. There was even a test when I was seventeen to see if I could protect myself using everyday items as weapons. I’m pleased to report; that I passed with flying colors. Nothing could stop me from reaching my goal. I was going to find out what werewolf, or werewolves, killed my family, then I was going to exterminate them. It was my only goal in life at this point. At thirty, I had no husband, no children, and only my vengeance to keep me warm at night. Many of my female relatives either married into other hunter clans or went out and got knocked up so they could raise the next generation of hunters. In a lot of cases, once the children were grown, the mothers would start hunting with them. Others would stay home to help protect our compound. A cousin once asked me to go out to a club for exactly this purpose. My great-grandfather stepped in and told her I wasn’t going. He protected me from marriage proposals and made sure I attended every lesson I wanted to in the family. He even praised me for graduating high school with a ‘C’ average, since I barely attended classes. As I walked across the compound, family members called out to me. I knew they were all related to me, but I never grew to love them like I loved my parents and my sister. The only ones who came close were my aunt and uncle, who raised me after... that night.... My great-grandfather was a close third place, but none of them would ever take the spots I reserved for my parents and my sister. The sun was setting as I made my way toward the old oak tree that marked the edge of the compound. I kicked off my shoes and climbed the trunk. Reaching the lowest branches had been my goal as a child, but now I found comfort in viewing the world from the highest ones. I wasn’t a kid anymore, and my body definitely didn’t enjoy climbing like one. Not that I was old by any stretch of the imagination, but a body can only take so much damage before it starts prematurely aging. They don’t tell you that in action movies and TV shows. Not that it mattered to me. There was no future for me. All I had to look forward to was death. Mine, the monsters’, everyone else’s, it didn’t matter. I knew I would lose more and more until the day I lost my life. I only prayed that I could kill the monsters who took my family from me before that happened. Leaning against a sturdy vertical branch, I rested my head on my hands and watched the sky darken and the stars come out over the canopy surrounding our compound. It made me wonder what my life could have been if I hadn’t lost them. Would I have had a husband? Children? A home to tend? Would I have chosen to work and have a career? What would I even do for a living? My entire life since I was ten was filled with fighting, blood, and pain. What could I be if I weren’t me? I sighed. It was a common thought for me, especially as I grew older, and it seemed like my parents’ killer would never be found. It was possible that I would never have my revenge. I closed my eyes tight, and a tear rolled out. That day was the last day I let myself really cry. Something died in me. There was a hollowness that threatened to swallow me whole. Sometimes it felt like my heart was trying to climb out of my throat. Maybe it was tired of my ѕhit, of my misuse of it. Maybe it wanted to leave me. “Bailey, come down from there. If you fall, you’re going to break your neck,” Uncle Peter called up to me, breaking me out of my circular thought process. His hands were firmly planted on his hips, his stance confident and commanding as he bent backward to look up at me. The moonlight cast a faint glow over his face, revealing the sharp angles of his jawline and the intensity in his piercing blue eyes. Strands of silver streaked through his once dark hair, giving him a distinguished air. Though still strong and capable, I could see the toll that the last twenty years had taken on him - a slight softness around the edges and a weariness in his expression. He had inherited the family business about ten years ago, taking over from my great-grandfather, who was still alive but no longer in charge. My grandfather had passed away before I was born, but I had heard stories of his legendary hunting skills. It seemed Uncle Peter had inherited some of those qualities as well. Uncle Peter was more than just a guardian to me - he was like a second father. After... that night... he became my rock, my mentor, and my protector. Even now, as an adult, he continues to train me every day to become the best hunter I could be. I was grateful for everything he had done for me, but there was always a sense of longing in my heart for the family I had lost so tragically. Though it wasn’t fair to him or his wife, a part of me couldn’t help but feel that void where my parents and sister should have been. As the years went by, I found myself embroiled in countless battles against the werewolves, but the one who took my family was still elusive. My uncle and great-grandfather prepared me well, but nothing could truly prepare me for the emptiness that gnawed at my soul. I crouched down on the branch where I was standing, held on to it tightly, and let my body hang off of it for a moment before dropping to the ground. Uncle Peter didn’t look amused.
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