Tales of the Myth Hunter

The young man laid on his makeshift bed, his body turned toward the dying fire.

As the flames flickered and danced in the darkness, his mind finally began to drift and slow.

What time was it? He wondered. Sleep hasn't come easily for years. Knowing the creatures that lurk beyond the brush.

Silent creatures that know the woods. That can see all brambles and twigs. Creatures that wait until the fire dies and darkness swallows everything.

He glanced up at the treeline, hoping to see the light of the moon or a glimmer of starlight to soothe his nerves. Anything truly silent, truly deadly, moves on the darkest of nights.

Darkness. Nothing but the dying light of the fire dancing among the treetops. It was terrifying, yet the light was still calming. He knows his fires. How to build them to last the night. How to keep them hot to reach the dawn. With the trees as tall and thick as they are, the rain won't stop this fire.

He lulls himself to sleep, humming songs he knows to himself and at last, he drifts into the endless dark of sleep.

For a time, his rest is peaceful. No dreams. Silent nothing that comforts his subconscious mind. His body knows that even if he's set upon now, he will feel nothing.

Suddenly a faint cry echoes in the darkness.

The voice frail and fearful.

"East." The voice begs.

His body winced at the now harsh tone.

Flashes of distorted faces began to fill the void. Their faces torn and chewed.

"It waits in the east." The voice shouted.

The cry that was once alone turns to a cacophony of screams. The flashing faces turn to mangled corpses. Women, children, and men all torn asunder.

His eyes tightened as if he could escape the haunting images of the dead.

"IT WAITS IN THE EAST." The voice shrieked.

A faded, dark image of a field with tall crops drifted in and out. The screams grew louder and louder.

"GO!" The voice bellowed.

The young man lunged forward, his breathing hard and heavy. The dark forest around him slowly being lit by the rising sun. The once dancing flame reduced to bright red embers. His head turned frantically, jumping from one group of brush to the other.

The message came through like so many others. Souls and memories of fallen loved ones. Their pain and suffering projected into his mind. Their fear and anger filling his body.

Taking a deep breath, he regained control of his emotions.

"East, they said." He thought to himself.

He rose to his feet, legs still stiff from the burst of emotions. Gathering his belongings, he stopped to kick dirt over the embers to snuff their bright red glow. Once he was satisfied the flames wouldn't rise again, he journeyed east to find the field from his dream.

For three days he followed the main roads east, against his normal instincts to stay hidden away. Though he would normally fight for the people, he tried to avoid them at the same time. Brandishing a sword, even carrying one can lead others to suspicion, which leads to questions. Questions that draw a lot of attention from unwanted people.

He came to the edge of a small village. Readjusting his belongings, he read the sign.

"Anheim." He thought to himself.

After a quick glance down the road, he slowly walked his was into the village. As he past small groups of people, he could see the somber look of the villagers. Their eyes were tired and terrified. They examined him from head to toe, whispering suspicious to each other.

A young woman passed close to him.

"Excuse me.", he beckoned.

As he reached out a hand, she turned her body away from him, rushing past.

He watched as she ran down the road and turning out of site.

"Please forgive her."

He turned to see an elderly woman standing infront of him. Her clothes worn and dirty.

"Her son went missing three days ago", she continued, "poor thing, only six years old."

She turned motioning him to follow her.

"I assume you're looking for the inn?", she asked.

He nodded his head, his eyes looking over all the villagers.

"Come on then." She stated as she started down the road, "You might not find the most welcoming folk here, but they'll keep to themselves. A lot has happened the last year and we're all wary of strangers wandering through town."

Her eyes glance to his back, quickly peering at his sword.

"Especially on that wanders in armed."

They continue down the road and make a few turns. He decides to keep any questions to himself for now. A tense, uneasy feeling creeps up his spine as they reached the inn.

"My daughter, Yanna, runs our inn." She informs, "Try to be patient. She lost her husband two months back. Now it's just her and my granddaughter."

The woman continued down the road, leaving the young man on his own.

He slowly made his way to the inn. The boisterous, energetic conversations that filled the air quickly died as he made his way through the dining area to an empty table at the far side of the hall.

A middle aged woman worked her way to his table, serving the staring men and women as she went.

"Will you be needing a room?", she asked holding the large serving tray on her shoulder.

The young man shook his head faintly, his eyes meeting hers for a moment then darting to the ground.

A man halfway in the hall shouted to her, beckoning her over.

"Alright! Alright! I'm comin'!" She shouted to him over her shoulder. She looked at the young man and sighed, "well if you change your mind, let me know. Best not to sleep in the woods and fields round 'ere. Folks been disappearing as of late. Travelers and villagers alike."

She quickly walked away from him and went back to serving the different tables in the hall, the boisterous conversations started again.

A man stumbled his way over to the table. The drink in his mug sloshed and splashed over his hands. He threw the chair back and sat down hard across the young man. Tilting his chin down, he let out a roaring belch and stared at the ground for a moment.

"What're you doing 'ere?", the man asked. His head still aimed at the ground.

The young man hesitated for a moment, his eyes watching every move the man made.

"Did you hear me, boy?" The man pressed.

"I'm just traveling the roads right now.", the young man answered, "first place I've come across in three days."

"Liar!", the man shouted, slaming his cup against the table.

The voices stopped, all watching the interaction carefully.

"We've paid your people once already." He slurred, finally raising his eyes to match the young man's gaze, "we've had enough of the Hands of the Sun 'ere."

The young man's face twisted to a puzzled expression.

"Do I look like a mercenary to you?", the young man asked.

The man nodded to his sword, "Not many ordinary travelers walk round with a sword like that."

The young man leaned forward, elbows to his knees and looking at the ground.

"Hands of the Sun. Bunch a money stealing swindlers, all of 'em.", the man slurred, spitting on the ground.

"I have no interest in your money." The young man assured, "I wasn't even sure I came to the right place until now."

The young man tilted his to the drunk sitting across from him. Determination flickered like fire in his dark blue eyes.

"Take me to the last place the most recent disappearance happened." The young man instructed.

The man took a deep breath and slowly raised to his feet, "Bjorn", he said reaching out his hand, "my name is Bjorn."

The young man shook his hand, and stood up with him.

Bjorn nodded his head and started out the door. followed close behind as they walked from the village out into the woods. The sun had already begun to set, painting the sky with hues of red, pink, and dark blues.

As they came out of the woods, long fields of 8 foot high cornstalks ran out into the distance along the hills. A ragged scarecrow stood in the distance, it's clothes and straw waving in the wind.

"I can't show you exactly where the all the people vanish from," the man grumbled, "but I know the last one was Elena's boy Danny. He would help the older men in the field, picking ears of corn lower to the ground. Hard worker for such a young boy."

The young man turned to his right, a shorter field of stalks touched the treeline of the woods as he listened to the man talk about the disappearances. Even after about an hours walk, the far side of the treeline was still a ways in the distance.

Suddenly footsteps came rushing from behind them.

"Bjorn!", a familiar voice shouted.

They both turned to see Yanna running down the road to them. A small group of men and women followed behind her a ways, most of them the same faces from the inn.

"Easy girl, easy." Bjorn shushed her.

Her eyes were filled with panic. Dark streams dying her face.

"It's Enid! She's gone!", she screamed.

Bjorn froze in place. His body trembling.

"How do you know?", he asked quietly.

She collapsed to her knees, sobbing as she caught her breath.

He knelt down to her, gripping her shoulders tightly.

"How do you know?!", he shouted.

She slowly reached behind her, pulling a pair of a younger girls worn shoes.

He stumbled slightly, taking the shoes from her. His eyes watered as he gripped the shoes.

"On your feet, Yanna", Bjorn growled, "we'll find her."

His eyes were still locked to her shoes, tears rolling down to his chin. Rage now filled his eyes.

Yanna stood slowly, her sobbing slowed. She looked at both of them for reassurance.

The young man nodded, giving her a wave of comfort.

"We'll take Yanna back to the inn", he ordered, "then I'll need a small number of people to come back with me and search the area."

The group murmured in agreement and they all started to make their way back to the village. As they reached the half way point back, the young man froze in place. His eyes locked across the field. The scarecrow that stood in the distance seemingly stopped swaying in the wind.

"Bjorn.", the young man called out.

Bjorn turned to him, then looked out at the stakes.

"We haven't had scarecrows out in the fields for some months now." Bjorn answered.

The young man quickly drew his sword and worked his way into the stalks.

Bjorn locked his eyes on the young man.

"What is it?!", he asked. Panic washed across his face.

The young man walked silently thro the field. As he disappeared into the cornstalks, the group quickly followed behind.

The smell of fresh blood filled the air the closer they got to the ragged scarecrow.

"Spread out!" The young man shouted, "the young girl may be in these fields!"

The men and women looked at each other and slowly split up, scouring the fields.

As reached the clearing with the scarecrow, he felt a plash of liquid below his feet. He looked down to a pool of blood staining the ground. He slowly raised his foot and stepped back, kneeling to the blood. One of the men from the group came into the clearing infront of the scarecrow.

The young man squinted his eyes, staring at the pool. Small drops slowly led off to his left towards the other man.

The man slowly inched his way to the scarecrow, his body trembling.

As the young man followed the trail to the scarecrow, the man stepped back in terror. The scarecrow creaked and cracked as it slowly raised its head to the man. Small red eyes stared at him from the sunken sockets of the almost skull like head.

"Bubak!!", the man shouted.

The straw like nails that flowed in the wind formed together to make claws as the creature shrieked at him, it's teeth sharp and bloodstained. It's long tail ripped from the ground and uncoiled from the stake, the sharp spear like end of its tail throwing it from its anchor. It launched itself onto the man, it's teeth sinking into his neck as he screamed, pulling him into the cornstalks.

"Bjorn!", the young man screamed as he chased the creature.

The man's screaming stopped as did the rustling of the corn. The young man froze in place. The only sounds he could hear being distant screams and the stalks around him creaking. Footsteps came racing behind him. He swung his sword, turning quickly.

Bjorn burst into sight, barely missing the blade.

"Is it true?!" Bjorn asked in a panic, "a Bubak?!"

The young man took a deep breath, his eyes scanning the stalks.

"What can you tell me about them?", he asked calmly.

"They're the bane of farming village like ours. Evil, intelligent creatures that hide in crop fields feeding on the local villagers and occasional travelers. They can move silently with their lower half slithering like a snake. Their razor sharp claws can be split at will to mimic straw sticking out of their hands. Their eyes-" Bjorn is cut off by sudden rustling.

He quickly puts his back to the young man, pulling a dagger hidden at his waist.

"Their eyes can see everything in the dark." He finished.

The sun had finally set entirely. Darkness covered the fields.

"We have to get back to the village." Bjorn whispered.

A steady stream of wind began to blow through the fields.

The young man nodded his head and they both rushed through the stalks once more.

"If you can hear me! Head back to the village!" Bjorn shouted to the others.

As they made their way, others from the small group began to appear next to them.

"Yanna?!", Bjorn asked one of the men.

They shook their head slowly.

A woman appeared out of the stalks, "Quickly! Town is th-"

Suddenly, a dark figure burst from beside her, pulling her into the stalks and quickly out of sight.

"You all keep moving towards the village.", the young man ordered.

As the others disappeared into the stalks, Bjorn hesitated.

"I can help.", Bjorn begged.

"Not if all you have is that dagger."

Bjorn tightens his face, frustrated with his helplessness. He grabs the dagger by the blade and hands the handle to the young man.

"Take it."

The young man took the dagger, nodding for Bjorn to go.

Bjorn nodded back and ran into the stalks, disappearing into the darkness.

The young man stood alone among the towering crops. The footsteps of the men and women ahead of him faded. No screams came from any of them.

The stalks creaked and groaned in the night breeze. He slowly walked through the dark abyss, his hand gripping his weapons tightly.

The sound of cracking leaves and husks erupted behind him. He spun his body, planting his feet firmly. The stalks ahead swayed and bowed violently as something rushed towards him. His breathing quickened in fear as the stalks mere feets away rustled infront of him.

Then the sounds stopped. The young man froze as he could see bright blood red eyes staring back at him. The eyes moved slowly between each one without making a sound. They stood about three feet off the ground and almost swayed as they moved.

The clouds that covered the night sky finally parted and he could see the creature clearly. It no longer had the raggedy clothes of the scarecrow on it. It's torso swayed and weaved through the corn with its snake like tail.

The young man began inching towards it.

"Come on.", he taunted quietly.

The creature snarled, bearing its teeth.

"Come on!" He shouted as he lunged his sword.

It hissed and stopped moving, lowering itself closer to the ground. It quickly slammed its claws deep in the soil and arched its back. Screeching a piercing cry, it launched itself at him, using its claws dug deep to throw itself at incredible speed.

He dropped to the ground as it launched over him. It's claws narrowly missing his body.

The bubak crashed into the ground, swinging its powerful tail. Stalks of corn snapped and crashed around it.

The young man rolled to his stomach and quickly scrambled to his feet. The creature snarled and charged at him once more, using its claws to pull itself towards him. Dirt and mud flung behind every swipe.

As it reached him, it flung its body in the air raising its claws above its head and slashing down at him.

Tossing his sword and the dagger aside, he threw his body away from the attack. The claws of the creature were too fast. One of the sharp blades caught his leg. He screamed in pain as blood gushed from the wound.

He rolled to a stop, breaking a few stalks as he did.

He gripped his leg as the bubak stared him down. He groaned in pain as it began to sway and weave like a snake. It slowly slithered to him, snarling at its new intended kill.

The young man clenched his teeth and he continued to try and drag himself away. His hands fumbling in the dirt. The creature shrieked once more and lunged at him. He rolled to the side avoiding the attacks once more. As he stopped rolling, he felt a large stone at his fingers. He quickly grabbed the stone and threw himself at the creature, slaming the stone on the side of its head. The creatures blood burst out and painted the ground.

The bubak yelped and fell to its side. The glint of Bjorns dagger caught the young man's eye in the moonlight. As the creature slowly tried to pull itself away, he limped over, picking up the dagger.

It's cries were weak as the blood drained from the crack in its head. The young man followed the blood carefully. Listened for the faint cries. He finally found the creature back at the empty stake where it once stood. It weakly reached up, trying to pull itself back to its resting place.

The young man stumbled over, raising the dagger.

"I have a promise to keep." The young man groaned.

He plunged the dagger deep into the back of the creatures head.

It's arms and body fell lifeless to the ground. The dagger slipped out of its skull as it collapsed.

The young man groaned as he fell to his knees. A warm liquid poured down his lower left side. He placed his hand in the liquid and lifted it to the moonlight. His blood reflected the white . One of the last attacks of the creature landed a blow he couldn't feel. The adrenaline of the fight fading.

His body buckled, forcing him to collapse to the ground. The smell of blood and dirt fading in and out. His vision drifting and coming back. His breath short and weak. He knew what this meant.

As the world began to blur, another figure appeared from the stalks. Dark leather boots standing infront of his eyes.

"That was a damned fool way to face a bubak." The voice scoffed.

The figure reached down and lifted the man, throwing his arm over their shoulder.

The young man winced and groaned in pain.

"Then again I guess you did kill the beast.", the voice congratulated, "but I think it's time you learned what you're hunting."

The figure carried the man out of the fields and deep into the woods, leaving only the creature and Bjorns dagger at the stake.

As the sun rose, Bjorn made his way back to the fields. Yanna followed closely behind.

"TRAVELER!", Bjorn shouted.

He waited for a response, yet only heard the rustling of the stalks in the breeze.

"Please, Bjorn. Please don't go.", Yanna pleaded.

"We don't know if he's living or dead.", Bjorn explained, "I may be a drunk, but I'm still a man, Yanna. Even if all I find is blood and bones, he deserves to be found."

He turned to her, hugging her tightly.

"I can at least give him the burial our daughter never got. Be the man I should've been before you left."

He held her a moment longer and started into the fields.

Fear gripped his entire body as he slowly walked through the tall, menacing crops.

He came upon the clearing where the terrifying beast lay dead. The stalks around it broken and cracked from the battle. As he cautiously approached the beast, he saw the shine of his dagger laying in the dark, dank blood next to it.

"He did it.", Bjorn whispered.

A chuckle of relief burst out of him.

His eyes raised to the stalks and then to the skies. He closed them tightly and takes a deep, trembling breath. So many loved ones lost to the bubak.

Bjorn returned to the village and gathered those that ran into the fields the night before. Three of them were lost. They traveled into the field and pulled the creature as well as the remains of the three back to the village. It's tails and claws were removed from its body and mounted to a plaque at the inn.

The rest of it was burned and the remains of the three buried. None of those thought as lost were ever recovered. And so the legend of the Myth Hunter grew evermore.