Blood Zephyr

Prologue

The cold gust of wind scraped his skin like an invisible claw. The night was young and so as the boy holding his gun firmly in his hand. He wasn't sure if he wanted to be in the Hunt. All he wanted was the fear to go away.

"Are you all right, kid?" his uncle asked him.

He looked up at him, unsure if he wanted to turn and run away. But it was his pride that put him up to the challenge in the first place. He wanted to be like those warriors he had seen on TV. He wanted to incapacitate those who feed on the living. He wanted to be the one to kill them. Mercilessly. Just like what they did to his parents.

He was a young boy of nine. He had his hands on the handle of his gun clumsily. As much as he wanted it to steady, it kept on shaking like he has half part of his body in an ice cold pool. The uncle smiled down at his nephew. He ruffled his dark hair and helped him steady his gun.

"Easy on the handle." He instructed the boy. "Keep your eyes on the target." The boy nodded, understanding. "Fire when you're ready."

The boy let out his breath and the gun made a lifeless, hollow click. He tried again. And again. And again. But the gun wouldn't fire.

His eyebrows knitted as the realization came in. He looked up at the older man who started laughing.

"It's not loaded." He thought out loud so that his uncle could hear.

Once again, the older man dipped his hand down to ruffle his hair but the boy dodged away from his touch. He looked at his nephew in amazement.

"If you want me alive give me a loaded gun so that I can protect myself." The boy said, unblinking as he met his uncle's eyes.

"You're ready." He said.

"I am." The boy prompted. "Always am."

The older man nodded and with one simple move, he slid his gun off his belt and placed it on the boy's hand. The weight of a real gun in his hand weighed three times heavier than the boy thought it would be. He felt insufficient holding it. But at the same time the weight had reminded him of what he is by birthright—by bloodline. The gun was not meant to make him a hero. It was meant to make him a hunter.