Spanning more than 90 years of art from across the globe, this collection of short stories celebrates the fictional character in all its horrors, from the oil monster of FernGully to the demon kings of Blue Exorcist's Gehenna. Beginning with the bla...
Yandere: I wasn't STALKING you. I was just educating myself on your lore. Calm down.
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Imagine Hunter sputtering out an excuse like this when you catch him spying on you. He trains himself to identify your voice over the din and leaps from his hiding place behind the gaudiest kiosk in the Night Market.
Depending on whether this is pre-Hollow Mind, Hunter might throw up a rambling explanation for how Emperor Belos assigned him to a reconnaissance mission.
"You're a person of interest." He keeps his golden mask securely fastened to his face, hoping that its show-nothing design will render you oblivious to the profuse sweat now dripping down his uniform.
A pang of fear stabs Hunter in the gut as he hears his own words and struggles to rip the wobble out of his voice. "To Emperor Belos, I mean!" The slight crack and fluctuation of intonation, embedded deeper in his memory than anywhere else, fills him with a cold awareness of the smallest things.
Hunter stops his arm before it satisfies an itch under the hem of his glove. The leather, once a gleaming sign of prestige, now traps his wrist and palm in a clammy prison.
He looks away, as if anyone else in this world could seize his attention more, and reaches out to wave his hand up and down a few times. "So, resume your daily activities, citizen." Hunter leans against the side of the kiosk, props one heel over the other, and crosses his arms in an attempt to appear suave.
"I'll ... I'll be here."
As you scout another stall for cheap contraband, Hunter lays his full weight on the kiosk and accidentally pushes it into a steep bend in the road. He saves himself with a stumble and looks from you to the fleeing kiosk, then sprints after it, cloak flaring, yelling at the kiosk to "give me a break!"
Wheels snap and pots shatter in a crash that summons from the night an immediate uproar.
