Post by hill on Jun 21, 2010 10:45:10 GMT -5
The Bronx was the one place Hill could go, decked out in full hunting ensemble, and not get funny looks. She was wearing almost skintight black pants, along with dark brown leather hiking boots and a black tank top. She had a belt around her waist, but it wasn't for holding her pants up. The belt was adorned with several Shuriken, and a bandoleer went around her left shoulder, holding many throwing knives. She also had a metal stake strapped to each of her thighs, as backup, as well as a knife hidden in a very... secret... place. All of this, except the emergency stakes, was covered by a not-quite fully zippered up black hoodie.
Hill's ebony skin shone with sweat as she walked down the sidewalk, her boots clacking on the cracked and uneven concrete. If there was one place with an abundance of unnatural evil creatures, Hill had learned, it was the one place where people could disappear in the dozens, and nobody would notice. That was were the predators would choose to hunt, if they were smart. And so that was where Hill often spent her nights, looking for clues of activity. It was hard, unrewarding work, but Hill never once faltered. Her hopes were boosted every time she saw some little sign of activity, when every few weeks she came across a hobo who's friend had died silently in the night, drained of blood. It was hard, for the things that haunted the night knew how to cover their tracks, but in the past years of her hunting Hill had killed three of the things, and encountered two others.
Hill knew she was alone in her quest, that if anyone else knew the truth and were also hunting the things they would be just as paranoid as she was. In a way, she relished that. It made it easier to ignore the thoughts that crept into her head every time she looked at someone. It was as Hill was contemplating this, walking swiftly to one of her contacts in the underground with some spare change, that the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Something unnatural was near, and that must mean it was after Hill. One of the two that had escaped had grown stronger and come back! Of that she was sure, despite the lack of evidence to support that theory.
She increased her pace to an easy jog. She wished to reach her contact before the thing reached her. Just one more alley... she thought. But when Hill rounded the corner and stepped into the alley, she was confronted not with the image of her contact begging for change as he usually was, but face-down in the grime, still as death. Acting quickly, Hill put two fingers to his neck, feeling the twin punctures. She examined his fingernails next, and seeing something ruddy red in them, dug the substance out with her nail. It was blood, and still fresh. She put the blood to her tongue and tasted it. It wasn't human, of that Hill was sure. Though it came at the cost of one of her contacts, the clue was invaluable. And then Hill heard the footsteps behind her.
She wheeled, her left hand still on her tongue, while her right flipped a stake out of it's thigh sheathe almost as fast as thought. What she saw before her, however, was no monster.
Hill's ebony skin shone with sweat as she walked down the sidewalk, her boots clacking on the cracked and uneven concrete. If there was one place with an abundance of unnatural evil creatures, Hill had learned, it was the one place where people could disappear in the dozens, and nobody would notice. That was were the predators would choose to hunt, if they were smart. And so that was where Hill often spent her nights, looking for clues of activity. It was hard, unrewarding work, but Hill never once faltered. Her hopes were boosted every time she saw some little sign of activity, when every few weeks she came across a hobo who's friend had died silently in the night, drained of blood. It was hard, for the things that haunted the night knew how to cover their tracks, but in the past years of her hunting Hill had killed three of the things, and encountered two others.
Hill knew she was alone in her quest, that if anyone else knew the truth and were also hunting the things they would be just as paranoid as she was. In a way, she relished that. It made it easier to ignore the thoughts that crept into her head every time she looked at someone. It was as Hill was contemplating this, walking swiftly to one of her contacts in the underground with some spare change, that the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Something unnatural was near, and that must mean it was after Hill. One of the two that had escaped had grown stronger and come back! Of that she was sure, despite the lack of evidence to support that theory.
She increased her pace to an easy jog. She wished to reach her contact before the thing reached her. Just one more alley... she thought. But when Hill rounded the corner and stepped into the alley, she was confronted not with the image of her contact begging for change as he usually was, but face-down in the grime, still as death. Acting quickly, Hill put two fingers to his neck, feeling the twin punctures. She examined his fingernails next, and seeing something ruddy red in them, dug the substance out with her nail. It was blood, and still fresh. She put the blood to her tongue and tasted it. It wasn't human, of that Hill was sure. Though it came at the cost of one of her contacts, the clue was invaluable. And then Hill heard the footsteps behind her.
She wheeled, her left hand still on her tongue, while her right flipped a stake out of it's thigh sheathe almost as fast as thought. What she saw before her, however, was no monster.
