As my reviewers have demanded, here's the sequel to Predator: Hunters. Sorry it took so long to get this up. My computer failed and I haven't had the internet for about a month. If you haven't read Predator: Hunters I strongly suggest you do; otherwise you'll be completely lost in this story. I hope you guys enjoy this!
Chapter 1: New Hunt
The lycanthrope shrieked in agony as the silver bullets tore quickly through its hide. It rolled onto its back twitching in agony, its death howl tearing through the air.
Ravyn sniffed distastefully at the sight of carnage. She hated guns. They required no skill to operate and handed so much power to the wielder. They felt more primitive than the weapons she normally used: her swords, bows, and basic hand-to-hand skills. One had to hone his or her abilities for years to even gain proficiency in those weapons…
With guns, you merely aimed and pulled the trigger.
As distasteful as she found guns, Ravyn had to admit they were the most effective weapon against shape-shifters. Unless the hunter had an extremely powerful bow with an incredibly sharp-tipped arrow, there was no chance that the bolt would pierce a lycanthrope's thick hide. As for swords and hand-to-hand combat, a hunter was good as dead trying to fight that way.
Ravyn removed her eyes from the corpse and glanced about her. The pack had been small, thankfully, and had been taken completely by surprise. Not a single hunter dead.
"Not a bad fight," Ivy called over to her. The Ash Guild's head scientist was walking towards Ravyn. Her hair was now dyed a vibrant violet with white tips. Her thin face held wisdom of ages, probably a by-product of her telepathic abilities. You had to be able to learn a lot by just reading one person's mind, not to mention the thousands Ivy had undoubtedly encountered.
"We shouldn't have to fight these though," Ravyn growled turning back to the lycanthrope corpse as it shifted back into human form; a sign it was definitely dead.
Ivy sighed, "Well, it'll help us in the long run." Ravyn didn't respond, continuing to glare at the dead shape shifter in from of her.
Since the Master Vampire Nacht's death, Ravyn's arch-enemy and almost turning-mother, life had been chaotic in the least.
The vampires in the area had been held under Nacht's iron rule for at least a few centuries if not longer. Now that she was gone, the power shift amongst the vampire hierarchies was the most terrible most hunters had ever seen.
Normally, after a Master was killed, his or her territory fell to the control of a second. In this case, that second would be Nacht's sister Eve.
But Eve was nowhere to be found.
There were some rumors that Eve had been killed, others said that she had simply not cared for the power and had left. Whatever Eve's reasoning, she left hundreds of vampires without a Master and a huge piece of territory open for the taking. Now, every vampire powerful enough to claim the title "Master" was fighting for it.
But, to make matters worse, a sudden influx of lycanthrope, or werewolf, shape-shifters completely destroyed all semblance of order. No one, not even the guilds dedicated to fighting off shape-shifters knew why the lycanthropes had come. The Guild houses that normally dealt with shape-shifters were in a frenzy trying to keep track of them and, in their desperation, had called in a few favors from Ravyn's own Guild, the Ash Guild.
It had been almost a year since Nacht was killed and the old Ash Guild house had been burned to the ground. With the help of neighboring Guilds, the Ash Guild had gotten back on their feet, only to have to jump right into a vampire insurrection and shape-shifter uprising.
"Nathan! Get over here!" Ivy snapped suddenly. Ravyn jumped at Ivy's sharp tone. Ivy was probably the most docile hunter in the Ash Guild, except when it came to Nathan. The young hunter was more than a little wet behind the ears and seemed to have lost all common sense a long time ago, though on rare occasions he could come up with brilliant ideas.
Ravyn watched Nathan march over to Ivy like a petulant child, pout and all. His chestnut hair, now grown enough to hang down to his shoulders, was wrapped in a loose hair tie with random strands sticking out at all angles. His blue eyes stared defiantly at Ivy, though Ravyn could see a hint of submission behind them.
Ivy's hand snapped out and grabbed Nathan's arm, pulling up the sleeve of his shirt. The shirt was made of a toughened leather, studded with a silver-steel alloy. After a second of struggle Ivy apparently found what she was looking for. With a growl, she reached into a large pouch on her belt and began to pull out a syringe with various needles and a milky white substance.
"You got bitten again didn't you?" Ravyn scolded, crossing her arms, leaning forward to catch a glimpse of torn flesh and seeping blood on Nathan's arm.
"He came up behind me!" Nathan began to protest when Ivy interrupted him.
"If a lycanthrope can sneak up behind you then you shouldn't be hunting them in the first place!" Ivy snapped as she filled the syringe, grabbed Nathan's arm, and stuck the needle into the vein that ran close to the surface on the inside of Nathan's elbow. Quickly jamming down the plunger, Ivy promply ignored Nathan's wince as she withdrew the needle. Ivy turned to Ravyn, "I'm gonna check the others." With one final glare at Nathan, Ivy spun and marched away, her shoulders hunched.
"What's her problem?" Nathan muttered, giving up on his pride and rubbing his sore arm.
Ravyn shook her head, "I should be asking what's your problem, not hers," when Nathan turned his gaze to the ground Ravyn continued, "You're being far too reckless."
Nathan exhaled sharply, "I passed the tests."
Ravyn conceded with a small nod, "That you did; and so did I. But look what happened to me when I went up against Nacht." Seeing her words beginning to take effect Ravyn continued with a softer tone, "This is the third time this month you've gotten bitten, Nathaniel."
Nathan looked up sharply at his full name, "You don't have to lecture me; and we have a cure for the werewolf virus."
Ravyn raised one brow, "Actually, because I am one of the guild Heads, I do have to lecture a hunter that is being foolish. And though we do have a cure, I'm pretty sure you've seen what happens to those that it doesn't work on."
That statement sobered Nathan's teenage pride. It was true that the cure for a lycanthrope, or any shape-shifter, bite had been found. The virus that changed a human into a shape shifter was found in the saliva of a shape-shifter, not in the blood like a vampire. The cure for a changing shape shifter had been found over two decades ago, but there were two problems with it. First, there was some sort of gene that some humans had that rendered the vaccine ineffective, and second, if one was bitten too many times, the vaccine may not be able to stop the virus in time.
"Just… be more careful…" Ravyn paused and grinned, "What would your hero think about you being careless?" Nathan's sober frown changed to match Ravyn's grin. At the mere mention of Nathan's "hero", the yautja hunter Tarn'se, the kid's face lit up and seemed ready to face the world.
As Nathan rushed off, Ravyn turned her eyes to the starry sky. It was a cool, clear night. Hints of autumn were in the air and the temperatures were already beginning to drop, hinting at the fierce winter that was sure to come.
Ravyn sighed and began to rejoin the group; she could only hope that the invading shape-shifters were only a random outburst, rather than the threatening rumblings that precede a terrible storm.
The ship vibrated as the thrusters kicked in, pushing the large vessel off the ground and into the air. Inertia caused the residents of the ship to shift in their seats slightly as the ship rocketed away from the planet, through the atmosphere and out into the black void of space.
At the mechanical announcement, the beings relinquished their harnesses and scattered to do what they wished, most of their activities revolving around the coming hunt.
They were yautja, fierce warriors with a reputation for being the greatest hunters in the universe. Each was about seven feet tall if not more their bodies resembling a humanoid-reptilian hybrid constructed of solid muscle. Armor ranging from pitch black to a dusky silver, was pieced together over their bodies, along with a expressionless mask clipped to each of their belts. A terrifying face completed their image, a shoking mix of mandibles and sharp teeth, while decorated dreadlocks jutted from their dome-shaped skulls.
Tarn'se watched them move about and grinned inwardly. The others were curious and mildly excited. They had heard the stories, but he knew they could not comprehend the prey that they would be hunting in a week or so. He too would be rather skeptical if he hadn't battled against the prey they were out to hunt.
Vampires.
Tarn'se's blood ran hot at the though of the mutated human blood drinkers. They had been the most challenging prey he had ever faced.
And he couldn't wait to hunt them again.
He was Leader of this hunt. A total of fifteen hunters were selected for the hunt, three of which had already fought the vampires and knew some techniques that they could advise the inexperienced hunters with.
"Think they're ready?" A tall yautja asked with a grin, approaching Tarn'se with a friendly stance. Jaelre, Tarn'se's greatest ally and friend, too was one of the three who had faced the vampires. Tarn'se knew that Jaelre, though excited, was rather apprehensive about this particular hunt.
After being bitten by a vampire, Jaelre had felt nothing but shame towards his surrendering response to the addictive feel of a vampire's bite. Ever since, Jaelre seemed to have a well hidden fear towards the vampires. Originally, he did not intend to go on this hunt, but the Elders had insisted. They had the most vampire-experienced hunters in the hunting group. As honor dictated, Jaelre conceded and joined the group.
He never agreed to enjoy it.
Tarn'se admired Jaelre's bravery to face his possibly only fear as he replied, "Ready? No. Those who survive the first cull will be truly ready," Tarn'se paused, "One must fight them to know what it is like to battle a vampire; they cannot go by the tales alone"
"Indeed," a whispery voice intoned. Tarn'se and Jaelre turned, dipping their heads in respect to the Arbitrator, Far'hnde. Far'hnde, taking a short leave from his duties as an Arbitrator, the yautja police, had agreed to go on the hunt. Tarn'se suspected that Far'hnde had demanded rather than asked to go on the vampire hunt. Unlike Jaelre, Far'hnde seemed positively ecstatic to be going on this hunt. Tarn'se had never seen an Arbitrator so excited about a hunt that did not involve hunting down and Bad Blood.
Far'hnde still wore his Arbitrator suit, a specially designed alloy compound of metal and some other flexible substance that fit tightly to its wearer. The suit hid almost all of the Arbitrator's body heat and though it was remarkably lightweight, only the sharpest blades and strongest acids could damage it. There were rumors that even kanide amedha blood, the strongest acid the yautja knew of, had difficulty eating its' way through the suit. A few additional pieces of more common silver-grey armor augmented the suit though the violet sash that marked Far'hnde as an Arbitrator was absent; while he was on this hunt, Far'hnde was only an Arbitrator by title.
"If they do not begin to take this hunt more seriously, there will be many dead at the end of the first fight," Far'hnde continued. Far'hnde paused and looked at Tarn'se intently, his yellow eyes calculating, "Are you ready, Leader Tarn'se? You are taking them into a hunt of dire threat and greater glory; can you lead them past Cetanu's flaming sword to honor?"
Tarn'se did not miss the stressing of the title 'Leader'. Tarn'se knew it wasn't that Far'hnde felt that he was incapable of leading the hunt successfully, far from it. Far'hnde's conserns grew from that knowledge that one wrong move by the Leader of the group could spell disaster for the entire hunting party. For a hunter to survive, he had to rely on his own prowess, yet should he follow an ill-prepared Leader, the lives of the hunting group were all in peril despite the skill of the individual hunter. The others would look to Tarn'se for hints on stalking techniques, killing strikes, and even when it was time to put back and retreat to safety. If Tarn'se didn't preform those actions as was necessary, especially the latter, they would all be dead… or worse.
"I am prepared to lead this group, Far'hnde," Tarn'se replied, trying to put as much confidence in his voice without sounding arrogant, "I will act as the example for them; it is their choice whether they choose to follow it."
"See that you do, Leader Tarn'se; the success of this hunt depends on you," Far'hnde turned and strode out of the room, his black cloak billowing slightly behind him.
"Like he could lead the hunt any better than you could," Jaelre growled quietly once Far'hnde left the room.
Tarn'se smiled softly at his friend's defensiveness, "He wasn't trying to insult me and you shouldn't take it that way either. He's seen more battles than we have combined, many of them fierce; he knows what can happen on this hunt and he was just making sure that I was aware of it as well."
Jaelre hissed slightly but conceded, "I suppose," then he grinned, 'Technically, you can order him around on this hunt, can't you?"
Tarn'se matched the grin and imitated Far'hnde's voice, "Indeed!" The two yautja laughed as their ship sped through space towards battle, blood, and glory.
I know there wasn't a lot of action, but give me a break; it's the first chapter. I promise many big battles are coming! Please review!