The Hunter

Chapter 1 - She's a bloody wolf, not a cat.

Chapter One - Ashton's POV

Thursday - 21st March

We had all been waiting for well over half an hour now, our legs ached with the need to sit down or even move just to stretch out the forming cramps. Our boss had told us to all wait for him in this room while he went to go run an errand. Run an errand my ass. I thought bitterly, digging my blunt nails into the palm of my hand to prevent myself from groaning in annoyance.

I easily noticed that no one in the room would dare utter a single word, so it was completely silent. So silent that I could hear the rustling sound of leaves in the trees.

I shifted slightly, unable to resist the urge to stretch my legs. I crossed my arms over my chest and lightly leaned against the wall behind me. With the wall holding my weight I stretched each leg to remove the aching. I could have let out a sigh of relief when the pain vanished, but I resisted the urge to do so.

Instead of straightening up like I should have afterwards, I slouched even more against the wall, allowing my tense body to relax. I planned to stay in this position until the boss returned, he demanded respect; so I definitely didn't plan to get on the boss's bad side. I was quite happy keeping my balls attached.

As I looked around the room again I noticed everyone else seemed just as pissed and as bored as I did. It had to be at least ten o'clock by now and I knew that at least half of these men would like their fair share of alcohol before they went to bed.

As I continued to observe everyone my eyes locked with Duncan's, a man one year older than myself with brown hair, green eyes and a scar along his jaw. In a place like this it wasn't unnatural to see a man with a scar, to us they were like trophies. Proof of what we had done and how we had helped save countless of lives. Seriously, if anything, the more scars you have the more respect you received.

I had my share of scars, small ones along my legs and arms, but they were minor. I have this one scar that stretched from my heart, across my chest to my right side. I can tell you right now, it killed when I got the wound. It had only been about five months ago, the wound was now almost completely healed but still was a little tender and stung when I moved suddenly.

A sly grin spread across my lips as I recalled how I had received such a scar.

Flashback-

We had been sent to go on another raid, this time attacking a smaller group. But I had learnt that this group had warriors that were as fearless as anything and were skilled fighters. I wasn't intimidated by it, of course I had fought others probably just as bad as these guys.

I remained crouched in the bushes along with several others that were in my group, we were all awaiting the signal to move in and attack. I, in particular, was itching to move forward. I wanted to sink my dagger into some flesh or fire a bullet into someone's brain. Anything to soothe the lust to see blood spilt.

I spared a quick glance at my group, a grin etched onto my face as I noticed the same look I felt in their eyes. We were all here to achieve the same goals, but for different purposes, whether it be just for fun, as a job, or even for revenge. Together we could all achieve that same goal we strived for.

I could barely contain a burst of laughter as I heard the ringing sound I had come so familiar with, closely followed by a loud smashing sound and flames bursting into the air around the front of the house. That was the signal. I emerged from the bushes, raising my gun in front of me so I was ready to fire at any approaching enemies. The men in my group followed in suit and they fanned out behind me. All ready.