They Call Him Hunter

One

A/N: Hey! So, I know with my other story, "The Impossible Mate", I really have no business starting a new book, but this idea just really wouldn't leave me alone, so I thought what the hell! LocklynnStokes5326 inspired me to write this, I wasn't going to, but she's epic, so... I really hope you enjoy, and feel free to check out TIM, it's a werewolf story and it's... Good? I hope?

Anyway, enjoy!

{Mikael POV}

This is it: my last day.

The past six years have been leading up to this moment. I'm nearly free.

I leaned up against the chainlink fence with a cigarette between my lips, as relaxed as I remember being in a long time. My friend Mikey enters the yard and throws his hand up in greeting as he walks over. I push off the fence and walk to him.

My shoulder bumped into someone as I walked past, and I threw an apology over my shoulder. My arm was grabbed and I was spun round.

"Watch where you're going, prick!" He snarled in my face. The guy was about 5' 11, wiry, with tattoos all over him. I'd never seen him before. He was new. Explained his behaviour - he must not know who I am here.

I yanked my arm back and growled back, taking a small step forward.

"Get out of my face and stay out of my way, newbie, before you do something you'll regret."

Warning delivered, I turned away from him to head towards Mikey. I saw movement in the corner of my eye, and a flash of sunlight on metal. I jerked my head away as fast as I could, but the blade still cut into my face just next to my mouth.

I spun back towards the guy and grabbed the arm with the weapon, twisting it away from me. I punched him twice in the gut and elbowed him in the face.

"Drop it!" I hissed at him, but he kept a hold of it. I swiftly snapped his arm and he cried out in pain and surprise, hand releasing the weapon. The wardens arrived on the scene and commanded me to let him go.

I did, raising my hands in the air. "That was self defence, he attacked me with a weapon!" Warden Charleston nodded and replied.

"I know it was son, but you know protocol. Down you get."

I lay facedown on the ground, arms straight out to the sides. Someone grasped my wrists and cuffed my arms behind my back and then hauled me to my feet.

They frogmarched me into the main office, sat me down in a chair and left the room.

Chief Warden Marlint looked at me over the top of the pages he was reading. I stared back, face like stone.

"It's your last day, Starson. Hell of a time to be in a fight."

"He came at me with a weapon Chief. I was walking away."

"You always do. That always surprised me you know. In here for six years, no parole, because you almost beat a man to death with your bare hands... And yet, in all of those six years, you've never once started a fight. You've finished plenty, but never started a single one. And that riot three years ago, everybody was out fighting, screaming, killing, trying to get out. When we finally rounded everyone up and checked who was there, you were the only one missing. Not because you got out, or because you were hiding, but because you never left your cell. You sat in there for hours and did nothing."

"Wasn't any point. I would have been caught, and I'd never be out of this hellhole."

"It makes me wonder. You're probably one of the calmest people I've ever seen through here - cool as ice, never lose your temper. So it makes me wonder."