The Things We Carry

Fiction || Fantasy || Adventure

Photo Inspiration by Unknown Artist

Imagination fueled Steampunk & Anime.

The train sped along quickly under the night sky. Its trail of light lit up the mountain valleys around it with a soft glow. Tonight's sky blazed brilliantly alive in the silver full moon's vividness. And it was a beautiful sight. And to some, it would also be a beautiful night, but for her, it was a time of war.

A woman in a hooded crimson cloak stood on top of the last car of the train. Her balance was unwavering. The only fluid motion was from her cloak and long black hair that flowed and whipped wildly in the wind. Strapped to her back was a volley-gun-styled rifle that sat in a black leather case. Her lips formed a calm smirk before she leaped off the train as it met a long bridge and she disappeared into the darkness.

She landed with elegant grace in a tree before hopping her way down the branches. It was much darker now and the only light in the woods was breaking through the openings of the ghoulish foliage from the treetops. Her golden compass glimmered as she opened it, reading it quickly before running off into the night towards the tallest mountain that towered above all of the others.

That is where The Wolves would be. And although she had wished she had vowed to never return to this forest again -- it was her duty to be here.

As a child, she had been raised in this enchanting terrain. She was one in a group of other children around her age. Each of them coming from long bloodlines of warriors who put them in the hands of the wise Wolf Hunter to train and create a strong fleet to protect the lands from The Wolves. It was tradition that by the age of seven they would be left there by their parents as a right of passage, not being able to return home until they reached adulthood.

The Wolves were not simply large dogs within these mountains. They were creatures who once were human then became infected with a virus. Infected beings would be bit and within moments desire flesh and spreading pain.

The human's body would become distorted, gangly, canine, and monstrous. Folklore would describe them as werewolves but even that paled in comparison to these things. Only on the night of the full moon would they appear. Always be in packs. Somehow they would manage to find one another and quickly. Like they were pulled together by a magnetic force. When the moon was not full the creatures would hide in deep caves within the mountains-- no one knew if there was a colony or simply scattered packs. For anyone who went to the caves to attempt that discovery would never return.

Being here once again her mind retraced the steps of her youth. This huntress had always seen her childhood home as an end of the line orphanage. She was a sensitive child and could never grasp why her parents sacrificed her to such a fate. As she grew so did her rage but it molded her into the top apprentice. Determination to understand and to accept her purpose in life pushed her along.

The Wolf Hunter, though always first being a teacher to her and the rest, became a father figure to her. He was a stoic man whose younger years were spent being a legendary monster hunter. Known for slaying Wolves but most notably famous for being able to do so while blind. No one knew how he had lost his eyes save for a vague story of a monster attack on his home village as a child. Though he lost his ability to see though he commended it for being the reason he was the very best Wolf huntsman out there. Great power came with a keen nose, a sharp ear, and a fierce heart.

The wind rushed past her as she ran through the forest. Her heart was beating out of her chest now. Trained breathing kept her moving militantly forward. Word had gotten to her several days prior that the school had been attacked by the Wolves. The victim who escaped had been a small child able to hide away from attack under the floorboards and then made it thirty miles into town. The Agency had immediately gotten ahold of the huntress. -- Wolves had attacked and it was unknown if there were any survivors. As hard as she tried it had taken a week to get here. And she knew to be prepared for the worst.

The building had caught fire somehow and lay in ruin ahead of her. Though dark she could smell the iron of blood and the rotting smell of dead flesh. Her heart sank as she proceeded. Long thin black smears were along the dark walls. Trails of blood from dying fingertips. There would be no corpses. There were only a couple of ways victims were left after a werewolf's hunt. And that was if you would be violently eaten alive or become one of the infected. Though she knew better, she hoped her Teacher was alive. After leaving this place ten years ago she would have never expected to return to it like this.

Looking ahead there was a well that sat before the open training field. Her memory took her far back into her adolescence where she stood crying with frustration and anger in front of her mentor.

"Why do I have to be here? I hate it here. I hate you!" She screamed. She remembered she had trained to the point of collapsing from exhaustion into his arms that day, "Why do we have to be the ones you live to fight off the Wolves? Why can't we just be normal people?" she sobbed.

The Wolf Hunter smiled softly. He wore a mask over his eyeless sockets, but crows feet formed in the corners of his cheeks. "We were destined to save those who could not save themselves. We were given gifts that were meant for those with bravery in their hearts and fire in their blood. Our purpose isn't for ourselves. This is who we are and we protect the world with the things we carry." his voice was soft. Reassuring. He held her gently as she calmed down. Allowing her to be a vulnerable little girl instead of a trained killer. For the Huntress, this had been a moment with the only person who had ever understood her. And for that moment in her young life, everything seemed at peace.

A tall, twisted creature stood in the field near the tree line. Snapping out of it she looked up and slowly took the rifle from her back and braced herself. She focused her vision on the wolf. A pack of smaller creatures stood behind it. Her odds of survival were small-- she was supposed to go with more hunters but she could not wait to go save her home. To maybe see the man she saw as a father one more time.

The creature was silver and covered in blood. It stood ten feet tall and stared at her vacantly. Drool dribbled down its chin as it crouched back on its hind legs and leaned forward onto its humanoid paws, talons dripping in crimson. The Huntress lifted her vision slowly placing the hairs of the scope over the target.

The wolf stood for a moment, simply snarling. She smiled softly upon resting her eyes on his face. The wolf didn't have any eyes. A single tear ran down her face. She had gotten to see her teacher one last time.

She fired the gun.