Those Who Hunt Monsters

Irish Wolf · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Irish Wolf** on Fri Sep 26, 2008 12:02 am

Elsie Clapp sat up in her bed, her pretty blue eyes scanning the dark room. Nothing moved and all was quiet in the dark night but she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was in the room with her. Something had awoken her from a peaceful slumber. A slight trill sent goose pimples over her skin, Edward Cleaver had been joking with the fourteen year old about stealing her away from her bedroom and marrying her. Maybe that roguish miller’s son hadn’t been teasing after all.

“Eddy?” called Elsie, in a soft voice. She didn’t want it to carry over to far and wake her little twin sisters. If they woke and say Edward, they would raise such a fuss to make her parents and that wouldn’t be good. Still, no movement or answer from her call. “Eddy?” she called again.

Before she could draw another breath, movement filled her vision. Elsie couldn’t tell what was going on or who was moving for a few seconds. Lips pressed against hers and arms wrapped around her shoulders. Her eyes closed, letting her dreams take over. For long seconds, she thought that it was indeed Edward Cleaver come to steal her away from her overbearing father. That he was where to take her to a midnight ceremony, with kindly old Father Gilly of St Mark's Church and merry her in the moonlight.

Then her sense started sending information to crush her joy. The first thing she noticed was the lips kissing her were far too soft to be those of a man or even a boy. Next was the smell, it was of sweet flowers, not the dusty and slightly animal like scent of a miller. When her mind noticed that it was not the brawny chest or strong arms of the miller that pressed against her frame but the soft bosom and lithe arms of a woman.

Elsie’s eye popped open, looking into those of the person kissing her. They were not met with the warm, handsome brown eye of Edward but chillingly beautiful blue ones. She should have been screaming in shock and outrage now but for some reason, as she stared into those blue eyes, she didn’t want too.

The figure moved back a little, breaking the kiss. Elsie looked upon the most beautiful face she had ever seen, framed by locks of the palest gold. All thoughts of screaming or Edward Cleaver fled her mind. The mystery women leaned close again and kissed her neck. A feeling of numbness filled the young woman, masking the feeling of warmth flowing down her neck.

When morning came, the Clapp household was awoken (and a few neighbors too) by the screams of the twins. In a somewhat slouched sitting position was Elsie, her eyes unseeing, cold and drained dry. Days would pass and more and more nighttime attacks plagued the village of Marske-by-the-Sea in the county of North Yorkshire, England.

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Late in 1639, in the common room of The Mermiad, Conlan Ó Miadhagáin leaned back in his chair, staring at a large pile of stuff on the table in front of him. All the villagers had pooled their resources together to help pay for a band of hunters to come help them. They had tried to get their lord, James Pennyman to do it but no attacked had happened on his family and he was more concerned with the growing troubles in England’s government.

He and the rest of his band had been listening to tales like this all afternoon in the Inn. To him it sounded like a small group of vampires, maybe a family band of three or four, had been forced to find a new feeding ground. He looked back at the pile, it was mostly junk but he wasn’t a hunter for the money. His family had nice holding if he really needed coin.

“What do you think?” he asked his hunter band, The Slayers, “Shall we take the job or move on?”

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Black_Dragon · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Black_Dragon** on Fri Sep 26, 2008 12:21 am

Shelia's eyes scanned the hard set orbs of her leader. She had listened to the tales the villagers told, knowing that each tale grew wilder and taller with each pint. They told of vampires that took your life with a glance, and winged demons that stole innocent vigrins into the sky. Well............that counts me out........She had remarked jokingly to herself as scrawny farmer told her his tale. Shelia had examined the pile the villagers had deposited at their table. Most was junk, however, some seemed to be precious heirlooms. Small pangs of guilt tugged at her heartstrings, before she buried them deeper. Her attention returned to her Hunt leader.

“What do you think?” he inquired, “Shall we take the job or move on?”

"We haven't taken down vampires in awhile............it might be best to take them out, lest they spread out and grow more and more." She commented softly.

Irish Wolf · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Irish Wolf** on Fri Sep 26, 2008 12:54 am

"Please" pleaded Father Gilly, stepping forwards from a crowd of villagers, his priestly robes hanging on a gaunt frame. He had been a plump old man one year ago, filled with joy but the attacks on so many young people in his parish filled him with a sorrow and seemed to drain him away into a shadow of his former cheer.

"You must help us" he continued, looking around in fear and panic at the rest of the hunters, "It is dusk already, they have grown very bold. The demons took three children last night and many over the past year. It is only a matter of time before they come to steal the rest of us away." The gaunt priest feel on his bony knees in front of Conlan. "Please my son, aid us."

When he got no response from the Irishmen, Father Gilly shuffled over to Shelia. "Please my daughter" he said, "Convince your captain and fellow to aid us in this hour of need. We will give you anything, anything at all. Please, help us."

Rooster · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Rooster** on Fri Sep 26, 2008 12:57 pm

The Preist Stood up and clung to Mourn's cloak "Please! Just help-" He saw the amulet on my arm and shifted back. "Ug, this always happens." Mourn rolled up his sleeve and showed the preist, regarding him like a child. "See the shiney Rock? hmm? Is it burning down houses or killing children?" "No! Of course not, It just looks so much like-" "Well it isn't. And if you intend on me- err us helping you with your bat problem then you will forget you ever saw it, do we have a deal?" "Yes, yes of course my son!" "Thank you, father. I will prepare my weaponry if we are takeing the job. So.. Are we?"

Black_Dragon · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Black_Dragon** on Fri Sep 26, 2008 4:58 pm

Her eyes looked in contempt at the Father as he knelt before her Leader, Conlan. She knew she needed to consider the facts, and that to be able to continue this operation that payment was needed, but alas, she was human, and pity was quite a human emotion. Shelia flinched slightly as the priest shuffled over to her, begging. Her golden and green eyes closed for a moment, extinguishing their presence before she opened them again, calming herself. She looked straight into the begging man's eyes.

"It isn't my choice if we help you, Father. My loalty resides with him," She gestured to Conlan before continuing. "I see your despair, Priest, and I feel empathy and pity for you and your people. The decision is cast with my Leader's decision, however." She finished.

A look of disappointment crossed the Father's face, and he moved from her to another Hunter with them, Mourn. Shelia glanced over at him for a moment, then looked away. Something about him always touched her alarm senses gently, as though gently telling her to watch him. He was indeed a strange person. The amulet on his arm cautioned her against him even more. She attempted to act normal around him, smiling sweet, being coy, flirting with him, but she wished to be away from him. Shelia had told her mistrust to her Leader, however, she hadn't recived an answer from him. His eyes only listened, and his mouth remained set.

She looked to Conlan again, awaiting his decision.

Rooster · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Rooster** on Fri Sep 26, 2008 5:22 pm

Mourn Helped the priest back to his feet and sent him on his way with a bow, he turned his head to Shelia. "Poor souls" He cracked his knuckles, looking over at Shelia again, he tried to talk to her but failed, it came out what seemed like a cough so he rolled with it and "coughed" again. He was always nervous around her, much more nervous then when fighting beasts.
She didn't like him, that bothered Mourn. "Mabye my name" He thought . He glanced at the ruby on his arm and saw... things, disturbing things. No one else could see them, but everytime Shelia looked at it she shuddered, Did she see them too? Never the less his mission was going great, but... something was wrong. Something in the pit of his stomach, He wanted to be good. It made the amulet burn his arm. He grasped it and let out a quiet moan.

Irish Wolf · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Irish Wolf** on Fri Sep 26, 2008 9:51 pm

Conlan watched as Father Gilly shuffled over to some of his hunters and then walk from the common room. His eyes drifted back to the pile of small coins and junk. It wouldn't hurt to ask grandfather for some coin and like the priest said, its was nearly dark anyways. They might just end up solving this vampire problem anyways and it was better to get proper credit and payment for it. It might just boost their reputation among the common people and with war looming in England, that seem like a wise choice.

"Alright people" said Conlon, looking over at the several hunters in the band, "We're take'n the job. Don't worry about the pay, I've got that covered. Get your gear ready, we're in for a fun night."

The villagers in the Inn let out a cheer of relief, as the church bell started to toll. Many of the remaining families headed for St Mark's Church, taking refuge in the holy place and setting watches. Other raced back to their homes, the crosses and garlic strings swinging as they brushed passed. If any of the hunters were looking at the house, they would have laughed. Crosses warding off anything was a joke spread by the church to keep their power. The garlic was a good idea but it was needed to be injected into a vampire to work, string of garlic bulbs would do nothing.

Rooster · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Rooster** on Fri Sep 26, 2008 10:13 pm

Mourn Loaded his Canon with his Silver shot, "Clunk." He mimicked as the Shot hit the Charge at the bottom of the tube. He slid the Metal jammer into the bottom of the tube so the ingredients woulden't fall out. "So, Weres the beastie?" he said looking up to the sky, he unclipped the Canon and spun it in his hands, then quickly showing his skill with the weapon clipped the gun back onto his cloak. He rolled up his sleeve again, he always polished his ruby. It still burned and shone like 200 candles, She did it again! Shelia looked at him with that same dirty look as before... and then... He yearned to be good again........ and- "UGH!" He couldn't contain the pain anymore, he wasn't screaming but his gasps for air were a little louder than whisper.

"Shelia......... What have you done to the ruby!" He said a little louder than whispering , He fell to his knees for a split instant and stood again, rubing his temples with his gloved hands.

Black_Dragon · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Black_Dragon** on Fri Sep 26, 2008 11:49 pm

"Alright people" said Conlon, looking over at the several hunters in the band, "We're take'n the job. Don't worry about the pay, I've got that covered. Get your gear ready, we're in for a fun night."

Shelia's eyes glowed with soft excitement as the villagers cheered around her. She bent down teasingly, the top part of her shirt open, but still covering, and picked up a small drawstring pack. Inside, apart from a few essentials for a female, was a small whetstone, some powder and spare shots. Her sword, an elegant rapier, hung faithfully at her side. She slung the pack over her back, and nodded softly to Conlan.

"I'm going to go get these blessed in the Church's water sect. I'll also do a quick patrol." She gave a small wave, and headed out the door with the villagers.

Her eyes couldn't help but wander back towards Mourn, and she gave him a slight mistrusting look, before she turned away and exited. Most of the town's streets were empty, giving her an excellent view of the village. She sauntered softly down the path to the church, snickering quietly as she passed houses with crosses placed on doors and windows. Oh..........how the church must be using this to their advantage to bring more sheep into their flock. She tossed her hair slightly in the soft but brief wind that blew, moving her curly hair out of her face.

Shelia reached the church quickly, and paused at the water. She pulled out some of her shots, and quickly dipped them in the water, before taking them out. They would dry before nightfall, ensuring that her matchlock pistol wouldn't misfire from wet powder. Her rapier was difficult, but she managed to wet the end and sides. She sheathed the elegant weapon, and slowly began to watch the streets, noting various landmarks and formations she might need to remember in the dark.

Rooster · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Rooster** on Sat Sep 27, 2008 12:19 am

He saw her walk away, the amulet stopped burning so he took a peek at it. "Holy" said Mourn.
It was White! He had broken the Devils eye curse.... Mabye there was hope for him after- "What was that?" he heard a crash and the Church bells rang like god himself was cheering them on.

"Im going to go check on Sheila, save some vampire for me if I dont get back in time" He bolted in the direction of the holy water. "Were is she?!" The amulet seemed to say... right, He turned right and ran on hearing noises and twisting demented faces in the dark corners. He unclipped his canon and took out the peg holding the bullet in place. "SHEILA! DUCK!!!" He fired the silver round and made contact with the beast.

Black_Dragon · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Black_Dragon** on Sat Sep 27, 2008 3:49 am

She whirled around as she heard someone running up behind her, half drawing her rapier. Instead of a dark, pale creature, it was Mourn. She frowned at him, and sheathed her sword. Her eyes widened as he pointed the cannon straight at her. She knew what would happen if it hit her..............the village would be cleaning up her remains for a week. Mourn pulled the peg out. She knew he was going to fire. Her body tensed up, waiting for the pain.

"SHEILA! DUCK!!!" He yelled at her, firing.

She hit the deck immidately as the bullet soared over her. Shelia heard a visible thump as it struck something behind her. She immidately got up, and peered into the shadowy area that Mourn had fired into. Her body relaxed, and she walked confidently into it. A few seconds later, she emerged leading a shaken cow with a patch of hair and a horn missing. Her eyes flashed angrily and she glared daggers at Mourn.

"Look before you shoot............what if this had been a person? Know where and what the target is.......lest your itchy trigger finger kill someone these days." She released the cow, allowing it to run off.

She sighed slightly, and walked past Mourn, returning to the Inn. She sat across from Conlan, and snuggled against the seat.

"Nothing out of the ordinary that I saw........but then again, it is twilight....." She said, leaning back in her chair slightly.

tigerz-peace · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **tigerz-peace** on Sat Sep 27, 2008 4:08 am

Twilight.
Ahh, how Rosaliese relished this time of day, even more so then the purest, darkest of nights. It seemed to, well, draw her was the only word. As the time came to close, it was the best moment for Rosaliese to emerge from her hidings. It brought joy in the form of a smirk to her lips, a smugness to her being, to walk the line of day and night, in full visibility of those pathetic humans.

Silk rippled with each of her dainty steps that propelled her forward in subtle jolting movements that slipped into a graceful flow. A majority of the town was still in The Mermaid, and Rosaliese paused at the stained glass window of the church. A soft laugh left her rose lips, fluttering over the still air to fill the small courtyard she stood in.
A head turned within the church, and she turned and stepped away as it did. The fleeting glimpse of the unearthly beauty left the face fear-stricken and white, and a hand rose to form the cross before them.

Picking up her pace, Rosaliese glided between the houses, slipping close to the buildings, smothered by shadows. In the silence one could hear the rippling of her silk, and if one payed enough attention they might have glimpsed the deep blue material flicking round a corner as she made her way.

As the church bell began to toll and the villagers left the Inn to make their way to the church or their homes, Rosaliese paused in a alley, watching with idle interest. Only when a panicking man sprinted past, obviously one of the Hunters, did the beauties interest perk.

Her gaze followed him as he approached his fellow hunter, and Rosaliese struggled to hold back her laughter as he shot at the growing shadows, mistaking them for one of her kind.

At the mans shout, the last door snapped closed as villagers huddled with their families before their fires, holding each other close in their fear. Little children cried, and parents and older siblings struggled to continue their acts to reassure the... meals.

Rosaliese's icy blue eyes darted about as the echo of that last door, and the mans shout, died away, before continuing her journey. Why she passed through the town when her destination lay on the hill beyond it remained a mystery, but as she glanced through a window, going unnoticed, she spotted why.

Smirking to herself, Rosalie's soon left the town behind, and in the now clear embrace of Night she carried herself with the elegance of Royalty towards the Village Cemetery.

A white picket fence surrounded it, freshly painted, and the scent of recently planted flowers flowed on the slight breeze that had arisen towards her. Amongst it was also the scent of death, which caused Rosaliese to wrinkle her nose in disgust. It was the living flesh that made her mouth water, not the rotting corpses that lay beneath.

Her charge was awaiting her, as Rosaliese's knew she would be. The young child appeared to be a young woman now, after the initial change had occurred. Elsie's unearthly pale skin shone in the dim light caused by the few stars and gradually showing half moon. The once pretty, warm and welcoming blue eyes of the child now resembled Rosaliese's somewhat in their iciness - they would soon resemble the older woman's in due time.

Rosaliese tilted her head, watching the newly born with mild interest. She noted to herself that it was a shame she had not waited a few years to take Elsie - she would have made a tempting companion had she been given the chance to mature. However, Elsie had been too tempting, too hard to resist.

Approaching Elsie, Rosaliese lifted the girls chin so their eyes met. The woman stared down at the girl, who did not quiver in fear, no, she quivered in anticipation. Pressing her soft lips against Elsie's, Rosaliese could almost feel Elsie's hunger, and she smirked as she pulled away and held her hand out to the girl, who took it willingly.

Pulling her new charge towards her, Rosaliese lulled over the foolishness of the villagers. They should have rid themselves of the drained child when they had the chance - but no, they could not bring themselves to, and so they allowed another of their worst nightmares to live.

Rosaliese's voice, tilted and ever alluring, rose around the two as she pulled her charge from the graveyard. The child, at the time, did not remember anything from before her change. She would, however, be flooded with memories once she had fed.
"Tonight, my sweet child, you shall feast. You shall quench thou thirst that burns in thy throat - but you will not yet change another. Oh no, for now, you shall feast, and live... and kill those whom you love.

Iceheart · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Iceheart** on Sat Sep 27, 2008 10:48 am

Hargrove, mounted on his bay gelding, wandered down the darkened streets which suddenly seemed not too dark. He had always been an early riser, but now the early morning light hurt his head, as though he was deep in his cups every night. The night was pleasant, cool, comforting. He scratched at the bandage around his neck. The wound itched, but did not hurt. Goddamn the man that bit him on the moors. He'd sent the bastard to hell, sure enough, sent him to hell with a sword blade through the ribs and a .70-caliber ball through the heart. Who the bloody hell did he think he was, a bloody vampire?

He had come to the North Yorkshire village, not twenty miles from his home, when he had heard of the irrational panic gripped it. He was a Lieutenant of His Majesty's Army, albeit one without a command, but he felt it his duty to come and see what could be done to calm them. Most likely brigandry, or perhaps some Papist devilry. "If it's either one, I'll have it sorted," he chuckled to himself grimly, and patted his sword and pistols.

He saw a man running past him and thought that this was a good a place as any to start getting to the bottom of things.

"You!" He roared in his best command voice. "Yes, you, sir! Come here!"

Rooster · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Rooster** on Sat Sep 27, 2008 11:54 am

Mourn looked at Shelia lead away a cow. "What?! No thats.. Impossible,Th-That wasn't a cow! I saw it! I-I swear to it! You have to belive me!" He said yelling to Shelia. This had never happend before. He always knew what he was shooting, and he always hit his mark..
He loaded his Canon again, put the peg back in and clipped in onto his cloak.

He ran after Shelia hopeing to convince her that he isn't insane.
"You!" A man roared in a slightly irritating voice. "Yes, you, sir! Come here!"

"Look, Any other night I would help you out. But tonight is special and I have to catch up to my comrade"

Iceheart · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Iceheart** on Sat Sep 27, 2008 12:05 pm

Hargrove prickled at the man's brush-off and spurred his gelding forward, bringing him up in front of the man, blocking his path.

"Goddamnit, I've come to get to the bottom of this vampire nonsense. Where is the Mayor?"

Rooster · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Rooster** on Sat Sep 27, 2008 12:14 pm

"I Told you, I dont have time to-" The Amulet turned Blood red again at the sight of a bandaged bitemark on the man. "Were.... Did you get that bite?" Mourn said steping back, his fear of werewolfs pounding inside of his chest. " he raised his silver dagger and asked you to touch the blade. "Well, Go on... just a little test" he said shuddering at the man. "No, On second thought.... Touch this." He raised his right arm, revealing the amulet. He hadn't Broken the Devil's eye curse and he wasn't ever more glad that he hadn't.

OOC: Remember, The devils eye burns Beasts and "Infected people" with werewolf blood

Iceheart · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Iceheart** on Sat Sep 27, 2008 12:20 pm

"The bloody hell are you babbling about?" Hargrove barked, pulling away his horse as he spoke, his hand going to his pistol-butt. "Some bloody fool jumped me on the moor. We tussled. He bit, I shot; he died. In the name of King Charles, I'll ask you once more, where is the Mayor?"

Rooster · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Rooster** on Sat Sep 27, 2008 12:26 pm

"As soon as you touch the Amulet." He shifted the amulet twards the suspected werewolf. "I Promise you, just touch the amulet" The amulet shined again with the light of 200 candles, an event that frightened most people. It lit up the street. "Go on, Im a busy man"

Iceheart · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Iceheart** on Sat Sep 27, 2008 12:54 pm

Hargrove spurred over, grabbed the amulet, and wrenched his hand away. Out came his long, narrow wheellock .70-caliber pistol, primed and cocked, and he leveled it at the man. "You're a damn queer sort. Now I'll have your name and your purpose here, or by God I'll shoot you dead as Mary Queen of Scots."

Rooster · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Rooster** on Sat Sep 27, 2008 1:22 pm

"I have a bigger gun" Mourn whipped out his Portable cannon. "But I would rather use it on a vampire then you. Mourn wrenched his arm away from the stranger.
"Im sorry, I put you through that, a lot of werewolfs live in that area you were attacked in."
Mourn put his hand forward to shake yours. "Im Mourn, a hunter. The mayor is probably held up in his house, I advise you do the same.

OOC: Please edit your post, You cant take the amulet off me, its like fused to my arm.

Those Who Hunt Monsters

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