Fawn: Hunters

I shouldered my bag, walking up to the long street. I looked around, it looked cosy here. I would have to introduce myself... or rather, find somewhere to stay. Most of the doors I knocked on no one answered, they were all old-fashioned and I imagined most of them being haunted. I ran a hand through my fiery red curls as I knocked upon my fourth house, saying a little prayer that someone answered.

He was quite a bit taller than me and I was just shorter than average. “Can I help you?” He murmured and I smiled, batting my golden-green eyes at him.

“I’m new and looking for somewhere to stay,” I moved my bag a little to show him I didn’t come with much. Of course, he couldn’t miss the large sword on my back.

“Why did you choose here?” He asked and I felt like one of those salesmen that knocked on people’s door selling double glazing or something.

“My nose, I’m a hunter... something led me here,” a strong supernatural scent... a myriad of things it seemed like a jackpot here. He seemed suspicious of me, but stood aside to let me in anyway. I helped myself to a seat in his living room, looking up at him with my smile: “Ask me anything, I’m an open book.”

“How do you kill a Wendigo?” Odd, here I was thinking he would

“Sever the head,” I laughed, “works all the time, for most things.” The head or the heart.

“There’s an easier way...” I looked at him, “set fire to it.”

“Yes well, I prefer to dismember them, a definite way to make sure they’re dead.”

“My sister cut the head off one once, got straight back up again.”

“Silver?” I asked, pretty sure his sister must be incompetent.

He went off and returned with a tatty old book, opening it he dictated something to me: "'As they are unable to be killed by common weapons like knives and guns, this make Wendigos dangerous foes.' You sure it was a Wendigo you cut the head off and not a vampire?" Don’t patronise me.

"But silver, iron, steel particularly a silver stake through the heart or dismemberment should work," I unsheathed the silver claymore I had on my back, showing him, it was inscribed with symbols of many cultures. "I am sure it was a Wendigo."

“Alright, we'll pretend it was a Wendigo. How do you kill a zombie? And I mean zombies that are brought back by people, not ones brought back by Death." I sighed; this was going to get repetitive.

“I could tell you, but how would that help me gain your trust?”

"It wouldn't, but it'd prove you're not one of those "ghost hunters" that operate out of their bedrooms point EMF meters at everything."

"Last question?" I sighed, "Stake them in their bed. Finished?"

“For now...”

“Good, then may I stay with you?” I suppose it was fated that the one that opened the door would be a fellow hunter. He was right to be cautious and I applauded it.

"Bedroom's upstairs. The room with the double bed and the one that says 'Hattie' on the door are off limits, though."

"Thank you," I bowed my head and sheathed my sword. "You're very gracious."

“Thanks?” I smiled and disappeared upstairs. Hmm, this was going to be interesting.

The End

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