#leon2

The moon hung high in the sky, a beacon of light in the dark night. Now would be the time to see who deserved her blades and bullets, Sinclair thought to herself as she walked through the streets. Maybe she would venture into the forests to see what might be hiding within the thicket of trees, although she knew the dangers of doing such a thing so close to the full moon. 

Stories ran through the town that there had been bodies found across the island, near the forests and the coasts. Sinclair’s fingers curled around the hilt of one of the knives sheathed at her hip, a reminder of her eternal task. Occurrences like this were the reason she was a hunter, the cruelty of supernatural beings, beings that shouldn’t be permitted to live. They were wrong, vicious, and their kind had ruined her life, and lives of many others.

She took a deep breath to cool the temper rising hot in her blood, her eyes closing momentarily to diffuse the red from her vision. 

Footsteps.

They were coming closer, clear in the dead of the night. Her eyes snapped back open, prepared for the worst. She inched the blade up, gripping it firmly, prepared to attack. A rush of shivers shot up her spine, her eyes alert, searching the dim light for any shadows.