the hunter

In the daylight, one would never suspect there was a war on between monsters of the night and humanity.  A few wards, cloves of garlic and other herbs nailed to the doors with iron, and the heavy crosses adorning the local rooftops were the only visible signs that something wasn’t quite kosher around here.  It was harder to see the small signs, the way people hurried back to their homes too fast and viewed strangers warily, but Tim had been trained by the best and it was all too obvious.

They watched him out of the corners of their eyes, noted the way his heavy coat covered the belts of knives and stakes, and only relaxed by fractions.  Even here, where he’d established shop with Father Todd and Sister Cain, he remained an outsider, something only little better than a monster himself.

And yet, Tim couldn’t blame them for their wariness.  There was a thin line between hunter and monster, one that was all too easily crossed, and he was no holy man, not like Father Todd.  No, he was just another poor, unlucky kid orphaned by a vampire, snatched up by a hunter who hadn’t yet lost his last shred of compassion, and taught how to survive in a world that ate children and spit out monsters for spite.

He’d been a good student, the best, and teaming up with Father Todd’s group had made him even better.  They’d even become a family of sorts.

But sometimes…

Sometimes, he’d walk outside in the daylight, among the normal people and all the things he’d lost, and Tim would feel utterly alone.

He knew his war against the monsters would never end.