The Hunter's Haven

Chapter Three - Daywalker

I sit down quietly, yawning, surrounded by piles and piles of books. I always research my kind, searching for any new developments. I'm a little strange, in that sense. Other immortals like myself that I've come across in the past refer to the study of immortals as 'immortology', which kind of makes sense to me.

I sigh, trying not to attract attention to myself. Libraries are the best places to keep subtlety at a high, because people are naturally quiet in these places. I can just slouch down and pretend I don't see a thing, pretend I'm not here. I mean, I've always been a quiet and rather subtle, never wanting to attract attention to myself. I've never met anyone else even remotely similar to my nature.

I can hear the clock on the wall behind me ticking loudly in the almost-silent hall, the flicking of pages as people read to themselves, the quiet scuffling of people hurrying to tables with stacks of papers and books. The one noise that stands out, however, is a rather familiar voice behind the bookshelves, and a higher-pitched, feminine squeak. I roll my eyes, sighing to myself. Not anyone you know, anyway, Flow. Why jump to that conclusion? I frown, opening the leather-bound book silently, pulling a hand through my thick red hair. Ever since I met that Jace-guy, I've been thinking about him without actually meaning to... I scan the yellowed page quickly, slowing down as I reach a paragraph about Daywalkers. Mortal references to immortals are so inaccurate, it's almost amusing. I mean, very few mortals actually know that immortals exist, and then there's just the people that believe it but no one else believes them. It's kind of sick, but in a way it's amusing. We've all been there at one time or another, right?

I turn the page, and then hear footsteps approaching the table. I keep reading, hardly paying attention, and then someone lays a hand on the page of my book.

"Flow Constantine, right? Nice to see you again. Surely you remember me, right?"

I glance up absent-minded, sighing. "Who could forget?" Egotistic son of a-

"Precisely. I never thought I would see you here, in such a place, but when I saw you I guess I just couldn't help myself from coming over and speaking to you."

I try not to scoff. "What do you want? I'm busy." Not really...

"Well, actually, I came looking for you." He grins, and I still for a few seconds, dumbstruck.

STALKER! "Uh...should I be flattered in any way...?" My voice is low, quiet, barely audible, and Jace just chuckles slightly, sitting opposite me.

"Well, you've gained the friendship of Jace Daggers; of course you should be damn flattered." I suppress a dark scowl and a snarl; that won't look even distinctively human in here.

"Well...what did you want? I mean, why did you come here to find me?" I cock an eyebrow.

He grins. "Simple. I...well, I'm curious. You seem to be trained, but not thoroughly enough that you can defend yourself as an endangered Daywalker. You seem to be rather clued-up about the evils of the universe, and you seem to be more witty than I thought. I...want to train you. I'm simply curious, but I want to learn more about your kind."

This has happened to me before. I was befriended by another immortal, and after several weeks of his being the perfect gentleman, as inhuman as he may have been, he tried to kill me. That's why my reflexes are slower than a normal Daywalker's; he hit a damn nerve in my neck, which still hurts, over seventeen years down the line.

"Uh...I don't know...I mean, you can understand how it must be...a Daywalker in my position can't really...I mean, I..." I don't know how to put it; why do I suddenly feel all flustered and incapable of speech when I'm around the jackass?

"Yeah. You don't really trust anyone at all, in your position. I get it, don't worry. But my offer will remain open, don't worry. I won't give up on you that easily." I flush red, and my eyes practically pop out of my head.

"What!" I gasp, and then sigh, calming down quickly. "Sorry. I...I don't know."

"Have you ever been trained before, Flow? I mean, really trained. Not just a few punchbags, a quick set of katas, and then sent on your way, of course." Jace cocks his head slightly, studying me closely, his piercing ice-blue-and-silver eyes burning holes in me. I gulp.

"Uh...kind of. I mean, my father used to train me. Not very thoroughly, but... He was a mortal, but he still knew his stuff. My mother..."

"Why didn't your mother train you, Flow? She was a Daywalker, wasn't she?" He asks me, his tone rather business-like and monotonous, and I shrug.

"She...well, I wasn't told about what I am until my mother was killed...my father told me no one wanted me to know, so I would remain safe-"

"But then you wouldn't exactly be safe, would you? You would be literally oblivious, so you would simply be in greater danger." He rests his face on his hands, his elbows against the tabletop. His eyes are slightly narrowed, inquisitive, and his mouth is set in a dark, grim line.

"I guess so. No one really looked at it that way, when I was a kid. My...my mother was killed for simply living her life as a human, and my father taught me how to hunt. I hunted down the demons that killed my mother, and then when I was seven more of them came for me. Two years of training isn't nearly enough to slaughter experienced demons, and so my father took them on. He...he was..." I feel my throat closing up, the backs of my eyes burning at the memory.

"Slaughtered in an elevator. I know." Jace sounds rather empathetic, not exactly pitiful; he must realise that I hate being pitied. I want to be stronger than any other of my kind, so I despise pity, and any other emotion that could possibly make me feel any smaller and weaker than I already am. That's one reason why I'm so defensive of my position in the goddamn food chain.

"But how did you-?"

"Quite simply, I work for a large council of Ancients called the Damnata. They're like...well, they resolve disputes between different groups of immortals, and each member of the Damnata - there's nine of them - look after a different type of immortal."

I nod slowly. "Are there any books on them?"

Jace grins. "Not in the mortal realm...well, not that I know of. I think they only really exist in both my personal library at home and then the Damnatan house in the shadow realm-"

"Shadow realm? You mean, there's more than just here? There's other places?"

He nods. "Only really accessible through portals, which only blossomed immortals can open I always could, being a Djamphir."

Alright for some... I grumble inwardly, and Jace grins even wider, his eyes glowing with menace.

"I can read your mind, Flow, you know that right?"

I scowl at him, and then have to fight to suppress a defensive and threatening snarl.

"Hey, easy on. But seriously; you obviously haven't learned much about the immortal world on your travels, have you?"

"I don't make friends that can take me things like that." I say simply. "Last time I did, he managed to hit a nerve in my neck and slow my reflexes permanently."

Jace blinks. "What was his name? I'm assuming it is, of course, a man."

I sigh; his tone is defensive, dark, as though he's going to rip someone's legs off and sing gleefully whilst he does it.

"His name isn't that important," yes, it is, "but I...I'd rather not remember about it, thank you very much." Jace nods. "But anyway, hypothetically speaking, if I were to take you up on your offer, what would you teach me?"

"Well, that all depends on what you've already learned." I blink silently. "You are kidding, right? Chakra? Vi-animae? Martial arts? Oh, dear God, this is going to be harder than I thought..."

I sigh. Am I that difficult? I mean, I was trained by my father, I learned quite a bit of almost everything...but I'm not about to tell him that, am I? Just play dumb, Flow. I don't know why, but just...play dumb.

I sigh, and think about the things my father used to teach me, just for a split second.

"...That's it, Flow, just target the solar plexus...that's it! Just a little to the left...perfect! That's brilliant, Flow!"

I hear a knock on the door, a slow, rhythmic tap, and my father whips his head around, grey eyes glowing demonically. There's always been something dark about my father, even though he's a human. Ever since my mother died, he's always been so determined to train me, and so hostile with everyone else. It's as though he's training my mother all over again, the way he was with my mother so similar.

"Stay there, kid. I'll be back in a second." He walks down the corridor, opening the door carefully, and the first thing I see is three dark shadow-like demons, red eyes glowing as they drink in the sight of my father in the doorway. One of them glances behind him, meeting my panicked gaze, and then they roar, dragging my father over the threshold. One of them winces and cries out as its foot crosses the threshold, and for a split second I feel a little bit safer; they must be vampire hybrids, because vampires can't cross the threshold without an invitation.

"Flow... Let us in, Daywalker... Come on, we won't hurt you...we just want to help you..." I shake my head, closing my eyes tightly to block out the image of my father being mutilated, and then hear a thump. I open my eyes quickly to see my father in the elevator across the hall, his limbs torn from his body. Blood is streaked across the gold-coloured walls,a nd my hands fly to my mouth. My father's grey eyes are white, glassy, unseeing, his face pale, his features distorted in utter terror. His mouth is open in a silent scream of horror, and I feel bile rising in ym throat. I see the demons in the doorway, and see the blood on their hands.

My father's blood... I grit my teeth, flaring red with rage, and swallow the fear, pain, terror and bile all rising inside me. I clench my fists, feeling myself shaking, and everything around me seems to shift and click together differently. I see everything from a different angle, as the demons must see me, and their fear, terror, shock, it all feels good. It empowers me. Pushes me forward. I gather all my fear, my hate, my anger - scratch that, rage - into my hands, and then push it out, energy flowing from my hands as the demons fly backwards, further away from the threshold. I hate this. This feeling of power, it feels good, but at the same time...it doesn't. Because nothing will ever be good again, it seems...

I snap out of my reverie, and see that Jace is no longer in his seat. He's gone, and in his place, a piece of paper is on the tabletop. I slide it across the wooden surface, looking at it silently, and then flush red.

'Here's my number; call me when you've made up your mind, chisana tori. I'll be anxiously waiting for your call.'