They call it an alliance, a necessary evil. I call it verbal gymnastics. Last time I checked, our vows weren’t designed to bend. Our rules are black and white—the Synod of Hunters taught me that. There shouldn’t be any room for this grayscale hellscape they’ve dragged us into. But there’s nothing I can do about it.
I have my orders, which is why I’m crawling around on pine needles like a goddamn snake, itching like a motherfucker, and desperate to escape the humidity and hypocrisy. It’s just past five in the morning, and I can already feel the sweat dripping down my lower back from the muggy Missouri heat. I scratch at one of the bug bites on my neck and feel the scab give way. Blood dribbles out.
Wonderful. I might as well set off an air horn.
All around me, members of my team lay in similar positions, silently waiting, and likely itching too. We’re a dozen across and three deep. That’s thirty-six hunters strong, which is the biggest team I’ve ever been a part of.
Given how our numbers dwindle more each day, it’s a colossal risk to commit so many to one mission, especially based on intel provided by the enemy. It makes me uneasy. I breathe a sigh of relief when dawn comes and the sun bathes the ground in fang-proof light.
We rise together, creeping out of the woods and across a field covered in coarse, chest-high grass. The brittle blades scrape my exposed skin. They’ve grown out of control, ungoverned by grazing animals and nature’s checks and balances. It’s another sign—if you know what to look for—that this territory has been claimed by something unnatural.
Surrounding the large, ranch-style house, we leave no exit or entrance unguarded. They have nowhere to run with the sun on our side. Once the light of dawn infiltrates every nook and cranny, it’s time.
In sync, we charge from our hiding places, ripping off shutters, bashing in doors, and shattering the windows. After an hour of complete silence, broken only by the occasional trill of a bird or hum of a mosquito, the sudden noise is deafening.
Then terrified screams join the mix. The sound makes my skin crawl. I do my best to tune everything out, gritting my teeth and focusing on my orders: breach this house and kill everyone inside... permanently.
I climb through the nearest window, dodging shards of glass as I infiltrate what appears to be a simple living room. There are scattered books and a couple of worn looking couches.
An older female cowers in the corner away from the light. She looks like a normal human woman, her graying hair piled in a messy bun on top of her head. Her eyes widen with terror as they meet mine. Just as she’s about to speak, the window next to her implodes. The sunlight reaches her instantly, and I’ll never know what she might have said. She goes up in flames like anold newspaper doused in kerosene, her vestigial humanity wiped away by fiery justice.
I feel a grim sense of satisfaction.
Half a dozen piles of ash litter the room. My boots crunch on glass and ash as I make my way further inside, sending little puffs of desiccated vampire remains floating into the air. They clearly weren’t expecting an attack.
I form up with the rest of the squad assigned to this side of the house, and we move out to ensure each room is cleared. We find several more piles of ash, then a male, barely more than a boy, cowering in a closet. He’s covered in burns. Painful looking blisters run along the right side of his body.
“Where are the others?” I demand, watching his agony and fear fade only to be replaced by determination and defiance.
“Fuck you,” he spits, using the last of his strength to lunge toward me.
Considering his injuries, he’s faster than I expect, but I’m well trained. My body moves, muscle memory taking over. I drive my standard-issue stake into his heart without an ounce of hesitation, ramming it past his breastbone until I hear the grislycrack.
In death, his arms reach for me but his eyes are focused on something behind me. I look over my shoulder and see another door.
I kick the corpse away. As soon as my boot makes contact, the vampire crumbles to ash. I slam the closet door closed and head towards the room he died looking at.
Three teen girls are cramped inside a narrow bathroom, tears streaming down their faces and hatred burning in their eyes. Several hunters join me at the threshold and start arguing over who gets to make the kills.Idiots. This isn’t about clout—it’s about justice.
“We aren’t animals,” one girl says, placing her slight body in between us and the other two. “What gives you the right to hunt us down and slaughter us?”
I tilt my head and look her over. She’s short—the other females stand at least a head taller, but her size doesn’t stop her from trying to protect them. Despite the way her body trembles with fear and rage, she doesn’t give an inch. Her hair is dark brown, her eyes a vibrant green.
The resemblance stops me in my tracks.
“Shut up, bitch,” a recruit shouts at the vampire threateningly, but makes no move to attack. “You’re a violation of nature.”
I hear footsteps approaching behind me, but I can’t stop staring at the girl—I’m gutted both by my memories and her ferocity.
“Quit fucking around and end this,” a deep voice growls behind me.
I recognize it without looking.
Angus. A grizzled hunter, my mentor, and a meaner bastard than any I’ve ever met. He doesn’t wait to see if we follow his orders. He tosses a can into the room, and it tips over. Gasoline glugs out of the nozzle, spreading along the cracks of the cheap linoleum floor in a noxious smelling delta.
The females have only a second to stare at the spilling fuel before Angus tosses a match on the ground. The vampires scream. He slams the door in their faces.
“Let’s go. The entire house is about to go up.” He grunts, narrowing his eyes at me. “Get moving. All of you.”
