Malachi Whitticur- Monster Hunter Extraordinaire Read online

  Chapter One

  I never thought a demon's blood would boil so hot on my skin; but that's what I get for leaving my cursed blade in the bedroom upstairs, giving myself no other choice but to slay the demon with a kitchen fork. The same fork I was just eating with. I think I've lost my appetite. I absently wonder if when I continue my lunch, the blood would give the food a better taste; I couldn't cook for shit. I have half a mind to actually try it, but right now, there are more pressing concerns than developing a new recipe. A demon just attacked me. In my house. MY house. I would've brushed it off if it had attacked me out on the street or near a portal to the underworld, but this stupid demon had the balls to attack me while I was eating. Doesn't it know that my lunch was bad enough already without it? There's no way I'm letting this go now.

  I jab the demon a few more times in its neck partly because I'm angry as hell and also to keep it incapacitated for a while. Demons look like any ordinary human, but when they enter their true form, their irises grow large and red, and their skin becomes obsidian with red vein-like structures glowing along the surface. This one isn't in his true form.

  "Why on my damn day off?" I sigh as I run upstairs.

  As soon as I’m on the second floor, I walk slowly with my fork poised in the air like it's freaking Excalibur. If one demon is here, then maybe there are others. They don't usually move in packs, but they also don't usually have the balls to attack someone like me either. Adrenaline and eagerness zip through me. An odd reaction you say? Well besides the fact that they just interrupted my lunch, I had a feeling these demons just stole my two days off and that's enough reason to make me look forward to finding more of them. I need a punching bag to release all this anger. A demon is my favorite kind of punching bag.

  My pace slows as I approach my room. Sliding along the wall, I peek through the small opening of the ajar door. Sure enough, I saw the good for nothing hell spawn rummaging through my closet. I wondered what the hell it could possibly want there; we definitely didn't have the same taste in clothes. For some reason, these demons loved it all black and leather. Sure, I like black and I like leather but if it's been in the demon fashion line, there was no way in Hell I was going to be seen in it. No way on Earth either if you just tried to be a smartass.

  I try to canvas the rest of the room, but my field of vision is limited. I don't usually make uncalculated moves, yet I have to take this chance; the demon downstairs could heal at any time. So, I kick the door and charge in there with my fork in hand. I must look like a hungry cannibal to the demon as he turns around. I wouldn't eat a demon though, they probably taste bad, you know, being all damned to Hell and such. Stuff like that bitters meat. I absently think about the demon blood recipe from before and conclude that it's not such a good idea after all. That lapse in thought gives the demon an opening and he punches me in the face.

  He hits like a bitch.

  I throw a left punch and then swing at him with my fork. He steps back and tries to hit me again. I catch his hand and stab it with the fork. The blood bubbles and boils. Something jumps on my back and my first instinct is to try to jab its eye out. I miss and I can't understand how. Ginsley will taunt me forever about that. I begin running backward and slam the demon on my back against the wall. His grip loosened a little but then tightened again. I run forward a bit ready to go back and slam in the wall again. The demon I stabbed in the arm comes at me. I jump and kick it with both feet, sending it away and me back into the wall. The demon on my back is winded and releases me. I immediately lunge under my bed, look up, and take out my cursed blade that's in a sheath secured to the bed frame.

  A hand grabs my foot and pulls me out. It's the demon who was on my back. I lift my upper torso a little and swing at its hand. The blade cuts clean through, there's no blood this time. Just steam, red vapor, and the cut-through area cauterizing due to the blade’s effect; disenabling the limb from healing or re-growing. I get up and slash its head off. Flames took the demon, turning it to ashes. I spin on my heels thrust my blade into the demon's heart. It too is enveloped by flames. I hurry down the stairs and back to the kitchen. I throw the fork on the table next to the bleeding demon.

  I yank its head up and turn it to face me.

  "Listen, demon," I said slapping it to get its focus, "You have two choices. Tell me why the hell you're in my house and I kill you. Or, tell me why the hell you're in my house and I kill you quickly."

  He looks at me dazed. I wonder if I made the choices too hard for him. He must think I'm his college professor. If I were, I would've given him an X in human assassination and WPS as my commentary. 'X' for extremely untalented. WPS for worthless piece of shit. His eyes roll back.

  I slap him, "Come on! Don't die on me without giving me an answer."

  He doesn't say a word. I leave him and go for my recipe book in the cupboard under the sink. I take my reading glasses out of my pocket, squint as I put it on my nose, and open the book.

  "Eleanor, I need a healing potion," I say.

  "Cut yourself trying to chop onions again?" It, rather she, says.

  "I have a demon bleeding out on my kitchen table. I can't let it die. It has something to tell me."

  "A she-demon? Did she want to ask you out or something? I told you you'd find your soulmate someday. But why is she bleeding out? Virgin?"

  "I stabbed it in the neck."

  "No wonder you've been single for so long."

  I grit my teeth, "Just give me the recipe dammit."

  The pages of the book start to flutter. Soon it lands on a page that says healing potions. I quickly find the ingredients and mix them together. Ironic how I can make a healing potion so easily, yet I burn the turkey every Thanksgiving.

  I go over to the demon and pour the potion down its throat. After two seconds of nothing, I begin to question my chef skills in potion-making. Another three seconds later the demon starts.

  "Like I was saying. Tell me why you're in my house. Keep in mind I just saved your life, so you owe me."

  Its mouth gapes open for a while and then it breathes, "Gorpa."

  I wonder what the hell's a Gorpa. But before I get to ask, the demon's body starts to shake and to ashes. What the fuck? Seriously? I just saved your damn life demon. You can't die without first saying thank you! I try to calm myself, remembering demons never had mothers to teach them manners. Now the only way I can find out what Gorpa means is by going down to Ginsley's place.

  As I predicted, the demons have ruined my two days off. But they've paid and whoever sent them is going to have to buy me lunch. I put the bloody fork in a plastic bag and then shove the bag in my pocket.

  Hey, you, sorry for not introducing myself earlier, damn demons interrupted me. My name is Malachi Whitticur and I'm a Monster Hunter. You know, monsters like the boogeyman, Bigfoot, vampires and such. Well not Bigfoot, he's like my bestie now. But you get the idea. As I leave my house I get the feeling we're going to be besties too.

  Chapter Two

  I've never been known to be spooked by a few demons but somehow that attack got to me, leaving an odd chill to settle in my bones. It's not the fact that the demons attacked me that was a bother. It's the notion that it seems they weren't after me at all. I couldn't have been their target. Well, that was unless they believed I lived in my closet. No. They weren't after me. They were after something else, and for some reason, they thought I had it. I'm not the type to keep trinkets or mementos of past victories so I have no idea why they were pawn shopping in my closet or possibly searching for their big brother's tooth so they could finally put him to rest.

  My head spins to the right
and my hand tenses reflexively around the hilt of my cursed blade. I'm sure I just heard something. A dark blur slinks away quite swiftly into nothingness and the only things my eyes are staring at now are Denston Oaks. Thin tall trees that climbed the sky as if they were racing each other. A popular feature throughout the northern parts of Hemet. Even though they are thin there are a lot of them so they could easily facilitate lurkers. But I know these woods well. Whatever seemed to catch my eye earlier must've been my own paranoia. There's nothing of it remaining now.

  I look around for a few seconds before placing my palm on the brown earth. I whisper words I must've recited a thousand times and the ground seemingly explodes. Dirt bites at me as it races past, making the downward pulling motion feel a bit awkward. But the sucking motion stops prematurely and when I open my eyes again I'm still in the dust cloud that was a by-product of the warp spell. I close my eyes and try again. The ground explodes, the downward sucking force wraps around me, but as before it stops before completing. I begin to walk in a tight small circle, wondering if I'm in the right place. But I know I am, I can feel the point of contact tugging at my awareness, pulling me to it. It was fashioned by Stephen and even though the boy was young, he was talented and there was no way this enchantment could've malfunctioned. I connected with it just now and recited the words, so why the hell wasn't I getting through. I continue pacing in a circle and then finally pull out my phone. Upon my second step though, I feel myself being pulled back and downward into a new cloud of dust. A second later I stumble back as I appear in a semi-dark enclosed space.

  I'm greeted by the familiar dark grey walls of the warp chamber. But what's not familiar, though, are the red splashes on them and the scent of blood. My blade is out before I know it and as I step forward my foot stumbles over something. It's hard to see what it is in the dark, but I have a feeling it's a body. I hope it's not Ginsley's body. I hope he escaped in time before the demons got to him. He can't be dead, because if he is where else am I going to find a shiny bald head that I can smack around when I'm in the mood. Unfortunately for Ginsley, I'm in the mood a lot. My eyes adjust to the semi-darkness enough and I can obviously see it's not Ginsley's. The body is too slim. It's a demon, which means Ginsley put up a fight and he could still be alive if no other demons got to him.

  With my sword poised at chest height in front of me, I turn down the right hall, having a feeling Ginsley went to the safe room at the end. The light overhead flickers in beats of two. Two seconds bright, two seconds dark. It paints an eerie scene as I see more blood on the walls and bodies on the floor. I'm beginning to doubt that Ginsley managed to kill all these demons. The better explanation would be that Ginsley killed one of them and then went to hide in the safe room. After that, another monster from the surface came through the breach the demons must have created and killed them all. My bet's on that theory.

  I see the door to the safe room is partly open. Did the monster somehow open it and go in after Ginsley? I hear footsteps behind me and spin instantly with my blade swinging.

  "Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!" A plump bald man says, raising his hands in the air, "It's just me."

  His clothes are virtually spotless; confirming that he was indeed in the safe room for a time. So, who killed the demons? I lower my sword, "Dammit Ginsley, I thought you were dead."

  "I'm glad to see you have faith in me."

  "We both know you're no good at fighting."

  "I'm a Forger, not a fighter."

  "And it seems you're no good at that either," I place my blade in the sheath. "How the hell did those demons manage to get in? I couldn't even get in just now."

  "I'm not sure yet. Haven't gotten to really examine it. The reason you had trouble getting in is that I changed the locking mechanism. Enforced it to lock out everyone. Didn't know if there would be more of them coming. But when I noticed it was you trying to get in I suspended the system for a bit "

  I double back to the warp chamber and make my way to the main room. I can hear Ginsley's heavy breathing behind me. He's obviously still winded from whatever the hell happened here. I wonder how he survived this. The glass door to the main room is completely shattered and hanging off its hinges. As I enter, I see more demon bodies on the floor and a red-haired teenager is taking an arrow out of a demon's neck. It was Stephen. He looked up as I clumsily step on broken glass.

  "About time you're back," he says.

  "I stopped along the way to get you some cotton candy," I say looking around the room. "Done with your training already?

  About two months ago I sent Stephen to Abston to train with a few witches and enchanters that owed me favors. I saved a bunch of their asses from going to Halswel, The Order's prison facility for magicals. I had intentions of sending him to train with some hunters in Memdle next but with what's happening now I don't think I will. At least not until I get a good grasp of what’s happening.

  "Completed early. Beston [NS1]says he doesn't owe you anymore."

  "That prick will owe me for as long as he can breathe."

  Almost every monitor on the wall and the desks were cracked, others on the floor. The pinboard on the left was now half. The tacked jobs that manage to stick to it during the assault were torn to shreds. The rest littered the entire room. The chairs and desks were not too distinct from wood chippings. All in all, the place was trashed. But that was typical of demons. They weren't neat and tidy. Just vulgar and destructive. Make a mistake inviting just one of them to your house party and your mom would be coming home to a bonfire. Kumbaya excluded.

  "You killed all these demons?" I ask Stephen.

  He smiles, "Yeah. Lead them to the back, picked them off one by one, and then went around front to get the rest."

  I walk up to him smiling, and as I do I examine all the demon bodies. Only a few have arrow holes. When I reach him, I pat him on the shoulder with my left hand. He's smiling like an idiot who just won a pie-eating contest. Then quickly with my right hand, I flick my finger at his forehead.

  "Ow! What was that for?" He whines.

  "It's bad manners to lie to your mentor," I turn from him and look around. "Where's Caitlyn?"

  "I'm not even home for five minutes and you're already moaning my name." A tall blonde says as she struts out the corridor from my left.

  She's covered in sweat and grime but somehow still manages to look hot. For some reason, she's still wearing cold gear from her job in the mountains. Her swords hang on either hip; immaculate as they may be, I knew she was the one who slew most of these demons. She just liked to keep things looking proper. I'm sure she reapplied her makeup once she was done with fighting too. Her lips were a deep red.

  "You're back," I say. "Took you long enough."

  "Well, you try hunting a Mastador out in the mountains while wearing high heels."

  "I'm not dumb enough to," I say.

  She comes closer, wets her thumb between her lips, and then wipe somewhere along my jawline. I catch her hand and stop her.

  "Did you check in with Jason?' How's he doing?"

  "The last time I saw him he said he couldn't talk much. You know how obsessed he gets over stuff. He must still be holed up in the lodge lab."

  I walk over to Ginsley who's assessing the damage to the equipment, "Anything salvageable?"

  "Doesn't look like it."

  "Is the communication system at least working."

  "Yeah, it seems to be intact."

  "Hail Jason. See how he's doing."

  Caitlyn walks up, "No one knows he's in Galdon Peaks. Besides, Jay can take care of himself."

  "I know, but we have to assume that they found him. And we have to make sure that he's okay."

  "What the hell is he working on anyway?"

  "I'm not sure. Something about finding a power source for something. He didn't tell me everything. You know how he is." I turn back to Ginsley. "Ginsley, did they take anything?"

  "I don't think so," he replies. "But I'll take inventory soon and see if there's anyth
ing missing."

  "One of the demons that attacked me at the house said something about Gorpa," I explain. "I assume it's what they were looking for. Any idea what that is?"

  "No, never heard of it."

  Ginsley's the type of man who has sources to all kinds of information, so he's usually well informed. Being a Forger meant he could understand and manipulate systems, that's why he's so good with ICT. Forgers love knowledge. They love to learn things and that's why they are so experimental. It's also why many of them never live past seventeen. Ginsley's been around way longer than that, though, he's cautious. When his other friends were trying to make death lasers from toothpicks, he was in his father's Forgery making weapons for The Order. If Ginsley doesn't know what a Gorpa is, he'll at least try to find out and there's a good chance he will. But I don't leave things to chance and I have my own sources I could consult. Or beat the crap out of. It depends on exactly who they were.

  "You've got the place secured right?"

  "Yeah."

  "Good. Stephen, fortify the place with some enchantments. Strong ones. I don't want what happened to happen again. And watch Ginsley's back," I say. "If they return, if more monsters somehow make it in, you don't even go to the panic room, you don't stay here. You get the hell out. Understand?"

  Stephen nods. I walk off, "Come with me, Caitlyn."

  "As much as I would love to, I don't think it's a good time for that now."

  "And that's because you're overthinking," I say. "Come on."

  "Where are you going?" Stephen says as I walk through what used to be a door.

  My teeth clench just before I speak, "I have a date with a witch."

  Chapter Three

  To say walking along the back streets of Bindur was the ideal place for a night stroll would be a lie you'd get your teeth knocked out for. It seems the streets themselves were paved with shit. It certainly smells like it.

  Lile, being a small island, is known for many things. Great white sandy beaches. Warm welcoming climate. But the most notable was the strong cultural preservation of its past that seems to be untouched by time. The other being that whenever you met its slums you met SLUMS. Those of a different degree. Well not worse than Xann of course.