Oblivion's Kiss

Chapter Three: Truth

I guess deep down inside I wanted to be some kind of hero. Stupid git to live by, I know that, but it was better than living my life drowned in ignorance.

The idea was great until my parents refused to fund me so I could move to Detroit after I read countless news articles on the internet with many unsolved deaths in the area with the exact same description Julia’s attack had been. So with no savings or no damn clue how I was going to survive, I took the plunge, relying on faith alone that would carry me through. I guess insanity got the better of me. 

Who in their right mind would take such a huge, leap of faith into the unknown? Someone that was seriously glitched, like me. I survived thus far. Between all the gangs, cults and hunters. Funny thing, this was my life now, and I wouldn’t want it any other way. I felt useful for a change like I had found my calling, the calling I had lacked when all my friends went to college or university and got jobs, while I was stuck in a haze, lost in books and the confinements of my bedroom. I just couldn’t move forward.

Not that I was some unfortunate lost soul, I wasn’t. I was strong, much stronger than the average woman. I had my best bet no one would have the courage to do what I was doing right now when instead, I could have done whatever I well pleased. 

I was smart. I could have studied at the same university as my sister right now. I was pretty, with healthy milky skin and cerulean eyes. I was a little more on the shorter side at five ‘feet four, petite, with curves in all the right places, so I had no complaints on that department either. Except for my hair. It was unnaturally red. It was literally pure crimson. If I did anything else rather than decided my fate with Detroit, I would have rolled in an unlimited supply of cash from my parents. Yeah, they were that dead-set against me being in Detroit. But I still chose this over all that.

I picked up my tall glass of coke and sipped from the straw. The hunter was scanning its way through the bar in an eerie manner, and to my dismay, I knew it was searching for its next victim. As if the damn thing wasn’t loaded with enough energy already.

They infested places like the abandoned part of Detroit, relished in its decay. It was easy hunting grounds for them. Just like Duke’s Bar&Dine. A hot spot for a woman to offer their ‘goods’ to anyone willing to cough up some cash. The hunter didn’t have to move to find his victim. His victim made their way to him. I pegged her in her early thirties, too petite with a sharp, black bob and overthrown with jewellery wherever she could fit them. She wore a tiny, tight-fitting dress and leopard-print heels – something you definitely didn’t wear in a bar with drunk men unless you meant business. When she turned for a moment, glancing impatiently towards the exit, I 

nearly choked on my drink. She was definitely not thirty. Not even close. I was lucky to guess if she was a day over fifteen. I was contemplating if I should get up from my seat, and drag her from the bar and give her a good, much-needed scolding when I knew the last thing I should do was make the hunter suspicious.

And I knew, no matter what I did, she wouldn’t listen. I knew, just like me, she had a reason for being here. It was hard for me to accept, that I couldn’t save everyone from everything, but I sure as hell was going to fry that hunter’s ass before he had the chance to touch her. I was barely halfway through my much-anticipated meal from heaven when the hunter got up and left with the girl, her arm hooked in his. 

I sighed miserably, glancing longingly at my meal, and with a scowl on my face, shoved a tip and the rest for the meal underneath the plate and got up.

I was so going to make this hunter hurt for my lost meal. I just stepped outside Duke’s Bar&Dine when I spotted them taking a sharp turn around the corner, heading towards the darker, shadier part of the street. 

Quietly as possible, I headed straight behind them, trying to keep myself in the shadier corners where they were least likely to spot me. The walk was longer than expected, and I started to wonder if I had been spotted when they stopped dead in front of a huge, and of course, abandoned building. Dread washed over me when I discovered this also happened to be one of my least favourite of buildings.