Fighting the Losing Battle

Chapter 4 - Predator or Prey?

Back when I went on missions with the rest of the group, the procedure was quick. In and out. Just like that. Within a matter of minutes, the intended victims were dead. The occasional casualty on our part, but otherwise fine. Of course, there was the issue of their little 'talents' to deal with, but if we timed it right, caught them unawares, then there was usually no problem there either. They became another meaningless number, just another checked off name on an invisible list. It was all a matter of planning. Careful, detailed planning.

Simple.

But then, I suppose this one must be different. The last of her kind, to survive for so long on her own, she must be a fighter. Of course she must. Strong, and clever too, to out-manoeuvre us for so long. For nearly a year we have been attempting to track her, hunt her down. So far, all of our attempts have failed. The chance of them succeeding today is unlikely.

I have never really understood what all the fuss is about. The one time I attempted to discuss this with the others, they just stared in confusion. She has to die, they'd said. She's dangerous. She has to die, of course she does. I never brought up the subject with them again. But sometimes, every once in a while, I still wonder. I wonder if she really does have to die, or if there is a way to put a stop to this endless killing...

Don't get me wrong, I've never seen her. I don't know what to expect. I have no idea whether she's as dangerous as they all say she is, or whether she's just another target, destined to be killed for the sake of killing. The others, they all say it's their duty, that their entire race must die, every last one of them, that they are a threat to humanity. I can't quite bring myself to believe them. Surely they can't all be bad? Not once in my life have I seen anything that has convinced me that they are a threat. In fact, I have seen the opposite – they always seemed to keep themselves to themselves, preferring to lead a quiet, secluded lifestyle. That is, until we stormed into their lives and threatened them. It was only to be expected that they would fight back. I know I would, in such a situation.

I just can't understand how they do it. They are perfectly at home with the idea of killing an entire race, of wiping them out, just like that. It's okay, they'd say. It's our duty. Don't worry, it doesn't count as murder if they aren't entirely human. It's not like they're real people. They're more like a disease, something that must be eliminated, before it harms us. I just don't know how they are okay with this, how they can live with themselves. Every single day, going through life without a care in the world, never once stopping to think of all those people, dead because of them. No matter what they have convinced themselves of, we are murdering their race. We have nearly made them extinct. Murder is murder. There's no excuse for it. When does it become too much? When do we stop and admit that we've crossed the line?

I have become one of them. A murderer. But unlike them, I will not make excuses for it. I admit it, I am a murderer. My actions, no matter how terrible, cannot be changed. I don't have the power to go back and change my decision, to go back to my old life, where I was proud of the person that I had grown to be. I am ashamed, nowadays, to think of what I have done. Because, unlike them, I do think of what I have done. I remember. I remember every one of those faces. The faces of the people I have killed, the faces of the people who are dead because of me. Because I put the gun to their head, or because I didn't stop my people from killing them, even when I knew in my heart that what they were doing was wrong. I never tried to stop them.

I despise the person that I have become.

Regardless of my true feelings, regardless of how wrong it all feels, I am part of the group, technically anyway. I don't have a choice, or an opinion, anymore. I gave all that up when I agreed to serve them. I must follow the laws and leaders of the Equos Venaticus. I will not betray my team. No matter how I feel.

And so, if we ever succeed in capturing her, if I ever happen to meet her, I have my orders. They have been made quite clear. I must assume she is dangerous, a threat to all human life. I am to treat her as one would treat an enemy. She is the enemy. My enemy.

And so, should an opportunity ever present itself, I must be prepared to destroy her.

*

Kira POV

I freeze. I can feel the panic setting in, deep in my stomach. All that lies ahead is a wide expanse of grass, sprawling out towards the horizon, exposed for the world to see. What if they have guns? If this is the case (and it is most likely), they could easily take a shot at me out here. How long would I last before they got lucky? I am painfully aware of their presence closing in – though they are not in sight yet, I know that they will be soon. My only option, risky as it is, is to turn back, to head back into the forest and hope to find somewhere I can hide long enough for me to think of a way out of this mess.

I turn, ready to run again, my veins surging with adrenaline. And then I become aware of the familiar haziness that is slowly blurring my sight and clouding my mind. Oh God, not now. Please, God, if you're listening up there, not now, I beg you. Please no. But even as the thoughts begin to form, I feel them slipping away. I become powerless, an unwilling servant to my gift. I am vaguely aware when I slump to the ground, but this soon gives way to the sensation of floating. My sight disappears completely as the vision takes control.

I am alone in the dark. A tower...Yes, a tall, dark tower. They have brought me here. They have caught me, at last, and it is all going to end here. I will become one of many to die in this tower. Just another forgotten face. Lying on the cold floor, I am shaking, shuddering through the tears, slowly going insane. I have long since given up the hope of escape. There is nothing left for me. For the rest of eternity, hundreds of tortured souls scream in my ears, deafening shrieks of agony...Howling...Screeching...Wailing...Crying...Warning...Endlessly, endlessly stuck in this restless state...My screams join theirs, dissonant and broken. I beg for death...This is the end...

Shaking uncontrollably, I feel myself return to the real world with a jolt. The vision leaves me winded, the breath knocked right from me. Frightened doesn't even begin to cover my emotional state, which was fairly unstable even before the shocking events that I have just experienced. I realise I am sprawled, face planted into the grass, the forest behind me. As I regain awareness of where I am, the unsettling feeling of being watched becomes more apparent. I cautiously make it to my knees.

A snarl stops me in my tracks.

Slowly, ever so slowly, trying to delay the moment when the dreaded truth is revealed, I raise my eyes. Terror grips me, squeezing my ribcage like a boa constrictor. I lose the ability to breathe. I clench my fists tightly, knuckles white. I feel the hairs on the back on my neck stand on end; I would shiver, only I've forgotten how. I can barely bite back the scream that is rising in my throat, choking me – I tremble with the effort.

My eyes finally meet the horror that awaits me.

Two glowing orbs, huge, menacing. The eyes of a hunting dog. It crouches, coiled, ready to spring into action upon command. Most definitely a creature in 'hunting mode'. And, from the way it is glowering at me, its eyes glaring deep into mine, it knows that I am its target. It is simply waiting for the signal to attack. It bares its teeth – I say teeth, they are more like knives, curved blades, dripping saliva. I am defenceless against the beast. I know it, and so does the dog. It is a hunter by nature, a cold-blooded killer. It is the predator, and I am its prey. A growl rises deep from within its belly, a low, ominous sound. Everything about this dog screams death. There will be no escape now. This is it.

I wonder where they are. They are never far behind the dogs. How long until the end? And more importantly, how much will it hurt?

In that second, my back explodes into a firework of agony.

I suddenly feel light-headed with pain, and a sudden drowsiness that threatens to overthrow me. It drags me along, a heavy current, constantly trying to pull my under. Under, deep below the surface, into the dark, murky waters of unconsciousness. It takes all my strength to keep my head above the waves. I don't know how long I can fight it.

And so, instead of fighting, I give in.

I let go.

As my world fades to black, I let myself drift away.