MARKED BY THE HUNTER

02: THE STRANGER MAN

Something else burn in a silent pause. It echoed through the void, slow and powerful. And it was coming from me.

I don’t know how long I was gone. Seconds. Minutes. Maybe years.

But when I opened my eyes again... I was no longer in the mud inside that wild forest. The ceiling above me was unfamiliar. A simple wooden place. Dry and there is no drops of the rain, not in the muddy ground with blood.

I got up in bed, breathless. It felt like I had just emerged from the depths of the ocean, air flooding into my lungs after what seemed like an eternity. My body was different now... stronger, more vibrant, and full of life

Still, I just can't believe what happens to me. All of this was impossible. I touched my chest, only I found that my wound was gone and no scar. Only my blood stained in my clothes.

“I died… I know I died." I repeat the words, came out as a whisper.

Because I remembered. Every second of it. The trembling fear I have, the shocking betrayal, and the blade.. pierced on my chest. So why am I still here?

A sound interrupted my thoughts, when the door creaked open.

I turned immediately..

And that’s when I saw him.

He lingered in the doorway, a tall figure frozen in place, observing me as if I were a threat or a rare find. His gaze was piercing, almost unnaturally so, not merely watchful but analytical. It felt as though he was dissecting my every move, probing my intentions with a quiet intensity.

“Awake already,” he said quietly.

His voice was calm, but there was something beneath it. Something controlled.

“Who… are you?” I asked, my unsteady voices.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stepped closer. Until he was standing right in front of me. Close enough that I could feel the heat of his body. Close enough that I noticed the faint scent of iron… Blood? in him.

He reached out suddenly. Then I flinched.

But he didn’t stop. His fingers brushed against my wrist, right where my pulse should be. And his expression changed.

“Interesting,” he murmured.

“What are you doing?” I demanded, pulling back my wrist.

But he didn’t let me go. Instead, his grip tightened, it was not painful, but firmly.

“Your heart,” he said. “It’s beating.”

“That’s… normal,” I snapped.

He looked at me then. But now I felt something close to my real fear again.

“No,” he said quietly. “It’s not.”

My breath caught.

“Because,” he continued, his voice dropping lower, “you were dead when I found you.”

The room went cold.

“I buried you myself.” he added.

Everything shifted in that instant. The stranger before me was no ordinary man, he exuded an aura of danger, embodying something beyond the realm of possibility.

I buried you myself. His words echoed in my mind, over and over, like something trying to break through a locked door.

“That’s not possible,” I said, but my voice lacks in conviction.

Because I remembered, I was dying. I remembered the blade. The cold, the darkness and now I was here.. alive? Or something close to it.

The man in front of me didn’t look surprised anymore. Like I had just confirmed something he already knew.

“You don’t believe me,” he said calmly.

“I believe that you’re insane,” I shot back, yanking my wrist free.

This time, he let me go. But his eyes never left me.

“Maybe,” he said. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I dug your grave with my own hands.”

My chest tightened.

“Why?” I demanded. “Why would you bury someone you didn’t even know?”

A flicker of something crossed his expression, too fast to read.

“I didn’t know you,” he admitted. “But I knew what you were.”

Something in my stomach twisted.

“What I was?” I repeated. “You mean am.”

His gaze darkened slightly.

“That depends.”

Before I could react, he moved too fast. And in one moment he was standing in front of me, and the next? he was behind me.

My breath hitched. “What are you...?”

A chill of cold metal grazed the nape of my neck, causing me to freeze in place. The unmistakable presence of silver registered instantly, in my mind without the need for sight. Instantly, my body reacted; every muscle tensed, and every nerve ignited with alarm.

“Stay still,” he said quietly.

“Get that away from me,” I snapped, panic rising in my throat.

“Or what?” he asked. His voice wasn’t mocking. It was curious.

“Or I’ll... ” I stopped. Because I didn’t know what I would do. And somehow. He knew that too.

“That’s what I thought,” he murmured.

The silver pressed lightly against my skin. Not enough to cut. Just enough to touch. A sharp, burning sensation spread from the point of contact. I gasped, my knees nearly buckling.

“Reaction confirmed,” he said under his breath.

“Stop” I choked out. “It hurts!”

And just like that, he pulled it away. The pain vanished instantly, leaving behind a faint tingling sensation. I staggered forward, gripping the edge of the table to steady myself.

“What is wrong with you?!” I snapped, turning to face him.

He looked at me again. But this time, there was something different in his eyes.

“You felt that,” he said.

“That was silver!” I shot back. “Of course I felt it!”

“Not like that,” he said quietly.

My anger faltered. “What do you mean?”