Elf's Random Musings

So I'm working on this project and I don't know . . .

I love my idea. I really do. The theme is Monster Hunts Gone Wrong. The title for this anthology is "UMG"- "Use More Gun" and its the third and final Monster Hunter anthology in the series being published by Pill Hill Press. I made the first one, couldn't really get anything going for the second (the call was given right around when my house was broken into and all of my jewelry stolen), but I like the idea of a "failed hunt".

The story I'm coming up with harkens back to the one I wrote for the first anthology with ninja monster hunter Shiro and enigmatic and not wholly human Detective Frost. The idea is that Shiro fails miserably in a hunt against a mysterious creature and she carves a curse on his back that is making him want to burn pretty much everything he comes across. (He's got fire magic.) And its implied that it will eventually kill him. In typical hero fashion he's not going for help, pushed his girlfriend away and is going after vampires and burning them because it feels good. Except Frost doesn't like that sort of shit happening in his town.

Frost takes him captive and is going to do something about that curse, despite Shiro not being receptive to it. So Frost tells him two -hopefully three if there's enough room- tales of monster hunts gone wrong before going after the monster who cursed Shiro himself.

Just I'm kinda unsure about the beginning. Also, this takes place in Law Unto Herself's verse.

“So, you think you’ve already won then, Hunter?”

Eyes of endless black met his own as pale lips stretched impossibly wide in a parody of a smile. There were tiny flashes of light in the depths of those queer eyes as a long, bony finger was raised towards him. Hands flexed along the handle of the katana that was an extension of his very being all the while that Cheshire grin was directed to him.

“Look, I take the whole ‘Chink’ thing back, okay?”

Shiro Wakahisa’s eyes narrowed at the wide, glowing red eyes staring at him as clawed hands dug into a brick wall. Even in the wane light behind him, Shiro could make out fangs that were still wet with blood. Brown hair fell into fine, pale features like alabaster and only the claws, eyes, and fangs marred looks that belonged on a fashion billboard. The whisper of steel behind him was almost deafening as the katana was slid back into its sheath. Crimson eyes widened before they faded back to a rich brown and fangs retracted. Normal hands were now pressed against the brick wall as the vampire blinked slowly and smiled.

“This is not about winning or losing,” Shiro replied as he pivoted slightly, adjusting his weight to change his stance.

Absurdly long fingers with blackened claws danced along alabaster skin and grayish lips as those eerie eyes continued to look at him. She tilted her head, her long, smoked colored hair spilling around her slim body as she studied him. “I was like you once,” she said in her silvery, bell like voice.

“That does not matter now,” he replied before swinging his blade forward and rushing to meet her head on.

Shiro flexed his hand and felt fire lance across his back, bubbling up within him impossibly hot. He stared at the vampire and said, “I assume that all Asians would look the same to someone such as yourself, but I will forgive your assumption. However I am Japanese, not Chinese.”

“Well, I’m a dumb ass. Look man, you put away the sword and we’ll just go on our merry ways like this didn’t happen. That girl’s still alive, so no harm, no foul,” the vampire said as he flashed a wide smile.

The hunter shook his head and said, “There was harm, and you will do it again and again until you are stopped.”

“Look, I promise I’ll change my ways. Hell, I’ll become such a moral fag that I’ll make Law Unto Herself look like Elizabeth Batharoy,” he said with a shake of his head and a manic grin.

The searing heat grew hotter and hotter, as if someone was tracing intricate patterns along Shiro’s back with napalm. Sweat began to trickle down his skin and steam rolled out of his mouth and nostrils with each breath despite the balmy, Spring night. He flexed his hand again as he felt the burn intensify more and more, but yet he held onto it and rode it, mastering it. A tiny smile graced his features as he started to turn from the vampire.

Laughter bubbled up from behind him and he felt a sharp breeze before impossibly strong arms held him close. Something delightfully cool pressed into the searing heat of his back and he smiled as he tilted his head to look into glowing crimson eyes. “Wow, you really are a dumb ass, aren’t you, you fucking Chink? I mean, I would have thought that dhampire detective would have been easier to deal with than the Ninja Boy, but guess you shouldn’t believe everything you hear,” the vampire said with a laugh before baring his fangs, “Shouldn’t have put up the sword, not that it mattered anyway.”

“Who said I needed a sword to slay you?” Shiro said before smiling as he gave into the heat boiling him from within.

The sweetly metallic taste of blood was heavy upon his tongue, and Shiro turned his head to spit a significant amount of it out. His hand was clamped over his right side where her claws had dug into him, ripping his flesh open. They had danced, and under other circumstances he would have admired her skill, but the creature he had no name for had been toying with him.

She stood before him on bare feet upon slick pavement, her simple dress swaying around her willowy form. Hands rested on slender hips as she lifted one foot to his chest, the blackened nails there biting into his flesh. A hiss escaped his lips as she leaned forward and that smoke colored hair surrounded them both as her endless eyes met his. He held her gaze as he forced his hands to move up as the fingers began to move in familiar patterns. Moonlight glinting off the mirrored surface of his discarded sword caught his eye as he felt the fire spring to life in his fingertips.

Then hands like ice enveloped his, the meeting of cold death to cleansing fire caused steam to rise forth between them. Her skin was so cold it burned him and he cried out as he tried to summon the fire again. That Cheshire grin split across her gaunt features again as she said, “Your sword is just for show, this is your true nature, and I will force you to give into it each time you follow your calling.”

That foot pushed forward before she grabbed his shoulders and forced him to the ground. Loud tearing filled the air as his back was bared to her. He could not help the screams that were torn from his lips as she dug her icy curse into his back again and again.

Blazing ashes crumpled around him as the flames vanished as quickly as they had came. Shiro smiled at the sight as the burning in his back dulled to a gentle throb. His heart was pounding and he could hear his blood rushing in his veins as he pulled himself to his full height as the ashes from the vampire’s wake fluttered silently to the ground. One soot covered hand absently reached to brush stray bits of ash from charred clothing for all the good it did.

His ears prickled at a shuffling sound, and he frowned as he reached for the katana at his hip. Dark blue eyes met his gaze as he looked into an all too familiar face right before a fist flew at his face with staggering force. Shiro went skidding back and moved to pick himself up, but somehow Detective Quinn Frost moved faster than he had and then everything faded into darkness.