Hellstinger

14. ...abandoned.

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Phoenix Harbor

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Douglas had finished his shift earlier and decided to do some extra work pending his next shift. Then suddenly, a horrifying inhumane shriek issued in an omnipresent echo. The first thing that came to Douglas' mind was Sirens; like in the fairy tales.

He left his workstation, holding a portable searchlight in one hand and a long wrench in the other, and stepped out to the seaside. The shriek came again, faded yet loud, coordinated yet omnipresent. After that, an eerie silence blanketed the harbor. A silence that could only be rivaled by a graveyard silence.

"H...hello!" Douglas called out. Expecting his voice to ring out in regard to the silent night, but it didn't. In fact, he could barely hear himself.

Confused;

"H...he-HELLO!" He raised his voice as best as he could, but his voice could barely penetrate the silence. "What the hell...?"

Fear was setting in; he quickly turned around intending to rush to his workstation, grab his things, and get himself home today his daughter. But there is a problem with his plan;

Standing before him is a shadow, a real solid shadow in the shape of a child, floating harmlessly in mid-air. Douglas wanted to back away from the shadowy figure, or at least hold his wrench up in defense. But all he could do was stare at the shadow's head, frozen.

Not frozen in fear, he is terrified of the surreal occurrence, but not frozen terrified. He was just paralyzed.

The horrifying shriek came again and this time, Douglas saw its source. Before Douglas could think of anything to save himself from whatever the shadowy figure had in mind; it rushed at him, blanketed him like a cloud, and started sucking the air out of his lungs.

Death. That was the only thing on his mind. He tried to fight, but he couldn't move; he tried to scream to any patrolling security, but he was out of air. And all Douglas could think about as light faded from his eyes was his cancer-diagnosed daughter he was supposed to feed in the morning.

Death is coming;

'Just one more day,' He prayed silently as he dropped limp on the floor, 'Please, just enough time to say goodbye.'

No sooner had the thought left Douglas' mind did a mindbending pain settle into the core of his being as though in response to his prayers. He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out; he was helpless.

Helpless as the black shadowy figure forcefully saturates itself all over Douglas, giving his skin no choice but to absorb it.

Nothing could compare to the pain. Although it lasted just a few seconds, it was an ordeal he would kill...

"Douglas!" A voice said simply. Douglas blinked in confusion, "what a shabby name."

Douglas sat up. Disoriented and unsure whether the last few seconds did happen or it was all in his head.

"You have a very strong will to live, mortal," The voice was coming from his head. Or maybe his mind. Or it was his thoughts. Or maybe a memory. Either way, Douglas was losing control of himself.

He looked around in confusion, surveying his surroundings in search of anything, anything at all, that would bring his mind back to unity. But all he could do was breathe, breathe as the voice in his head took absolute control of every fiber of his being.

"You are mine now Douglas, you mine."

An eerie glow shimmers in Douglas' pupils to punctuate the voice's words; "you now serve the one true master of this world."

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"How was I supposed to know that?!" Marcus yelled at the peak of his voice, pacing with agitation and dread.

"I gave you one freaking assignment!" Alexander yelled right back her hands balled into angry fists and her tank top falling and rising to her breaths, already damp with her agitated sweat.

"String the FUCKING BOW!" She yelled, "not go around touching things. A Hellstinger is not supposed to touch another unclaimed weapon before claiming his own. There is a reason for everything!"

"I. DIDN'T. KNOW!" Marcus yelled. The rage of the old man and the disapproval of the other Hellstingers were seared in his mind. All he could do to dismiss the urge to flinch, and frequently look around, is pace.

"I didn't know," Marcus said in a softer tone, the rush of the ordeal subduing. He had no intention to reject or refuse them. All he wanted was to avenge his parents while saving mankind in the process. But now, he has messed everything up. He messed up so bad he doesn't even know how bad it is.

"Being a Hellstinger is not just about being a butt-kicking demon-hunting badass," Alexander said, one word after the other, barely able to contain her frustration. "There is another side to the fight."

Marcus stopped pacing. He has no understanding of this paranormality and the rules seem to change every time he starts to get the hang of it. Like how he was supposed to be the ultimate warrior to kill Romulus, and now, just being a kick-ass fighter with an enchanted weapon won't be enough.

"There is the extra-dimensional aspect of the fight," Alexander said. "There is a whole bunch of scientific explanations that I never understood, but here is the gist."

"When you kill a being from the Ether life, a part of them is left being that attaches to your soul." She continued, "especially when you are wounded in battle. That part not only consumes your soul, but it will drag you to the Ether life. That is why every Hellstinger needs extra-dimensional protection. Something only the souls of your ancestors can provide; they are supposed to be your guide."

"But now..."

"...now I have been disowned." Marcus finished for Alexander. He understood well enough what she was saying. Just like she almost died last night after the car crash, that was because she had no protection.

"Oh my God," Alexander sighed, suddenly feeling tired. She turned around and paced out of the dojo. On exiting, she met a bald skinny man in a black tailcoat, white dotted bow tie, and white gloves; standing before the door as though waiting for someone to exit the dojo. His facial expression remains unimpressed.

Alexander frowned; "what are you doing here, Jeffrey? I would expect you to be familiarizing yourself with the manor rather than standing guard by the dojo."

"Pardon me, Miss Hill," He said with a slight trace of English accent as he stood with perfect grace befitting a professional Butler. "But there is a rather persistent guest at the door. A feisty young lady, ginger pigtails hair, and; pardon my manners ma'am; a very ridiculous floral pink dress."

"Average height?" Alexander asked, already getting an idea of who it could be. "Plush lips, and by ridiculous you mean too short?"

"Very accurate ma'am," Jeffrey said, his facial expression unchanged. "It would seem you already know who the young lady is?"

"Cynthia Valentine" Alexander let out a sigh as she walked past Jeffrey. "Just another rich girl lost in a delusional love."

"Do you want me to send her away?" Jeffrey said, trailing behind Alexander. "I happen to know a few harsh words that would throw her in a fit of embarrassed tears."

"Haha. I think I might just like you Jeffrey," Alexander said with a laugh, "but no. Marcus still has a grudge to settle with her."

"I see," Was all Jeffrey said as Alexander ordered him to let the feisty guest in before branching off to the hallway leading to other parts of the manor.

Jeffrey crossed the waiting room in quick steady steps, never losing his stiff demeanor. He got to the front door and opened it widely;

"Miss Valentine." Jeffrey said, "Please come in, I will show you to the receiving room."

A disgusted-looking young lady with a teardrop tattoo at the base of her right eye, and a floral pink flowing dress that barely reached her mid-thighs; stepped forward to stand two inches from Jeffrey's face;

"I am not a nice girl, weirdo," She said, "your life has just gotten worse."

"Certainly ma'am," Jeffrey said, unfazed and unimpressed, "Please come with me."

He led her through the hallway and into the receiving room before leaving her to go get Marcus.

Cynthia had had an embarrassing day. The most embarrassing of her life. She had gone shopping like she usually does on a Wednesday, only to find out that her father had frozen her credit card.

Then she got annoyed when she found out from Tasha, Marcus' manager, that Marcus had an incident and had disbanded his tour crew. The least she expected was to be notified by Marcus himself. She heard the rumors of canceling the tour, but she never paid any heed until now.

"Oh, Cynthia." Alexander walked towards her in casual sweatpants, a singlet, and a fake smile on her face.

"It's been ages since I saw your sweet face," Alexander said, coming in for a hug.

"Alexander Hill," Cynthia said simply, without returning the hug. "I thought bodyguards wear stuff that allows them to protect, not feel comfortable?"

"Oh you silly girl," Alexander faked a laugh. "I'm more like a little miss in this manor."

"Uh," Cynthia scoffed. "Really? Just because Marcus fucks you doesn't make you any more important that the maid dusting the cobwebs. So you should know your place."

"Aw, you flatter me." Alexander could no longer subdue her irritated frown, so she turned it into a laugh, "at least he does fuck me. Unlike someone who insists she is a girlfriend rather than a mind toy."

Valentine foamed in annoyance. She has no comeback to subtle jab, and couldn't think of anything that would wipe the fake smile out of Alexander's face. All she could do was frown in vexation.

"I should probably go tell Marcus you are waiting." With that, Alexander walked out of the room, finally letting her fake smile drop, and assuming the appropriate expression for her irritation.

She met Marcus and Jeffrey on their way to the receiving room;

"Tell Cynthia that Marcus will be a minute," Alexander said, her voice a perfect mirror of the irritation she was feeling.

Jeffrey nodded his understanding and went on;

"You need to dispose of her, now."

"But...but..." Marcus stuttered, looking for an excuse.

"You listen to me and you listen good," Alexander said, getting right in his face as the annoyance of his earlier mistake resurfaced.

"You are a Hellstinger, guide or no guide, you are a Hellstinger and you have a charge to attend. One thing you must always keep secret is your identity. Marc C Hellstinger is now your mask, no one must know."

"Don't worry about that," Marcus said, "I won't go around telling people I am from a lineage of demon hunter warriors and I just messed up my extra-something protection."

"And she can't stay any longer than necessary here. You need intense training Marcus." Alexander said the last part with a sigh. "You are the last of the Hellstingers and you are supposed to have all the previous Hellstingers as a guide on your charge. But after that disregard, your duty has gotten a hundred times harder. You are all alone."

"Marc C Hellstinger is a mask," She said in an assertive tone, "a mask that will protect everyone around you."

Marcus nodded and proceeded to attend to Cynthia;

"You are wrong you know?" He called back without turning nor pausing, "I'm not alone. I have you."

Marcus entered the receiving room and Cynthia immediately poured out all her frustrations to him, in expectation of a comfort Marcus isn't obliged to give.

Everything Alexander said was true. He needed to get rid of her, she was nothing but a toy he used to practice mind games and emotional sabotage. He should get rid of her; although he has a grudge to settle with her.

All he can think of is all the faces of his ancestors; all those mighty warriors. Even the teenager he saw among them looked fierce and incapable of flaw;

Why were they so enraged about a weapon? Why must he use the most unreasonable weapon in close combat? If all of them, great legends of history, failed to kill Romulus, what chance does he have?