42;

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42; Estranged

Two Weeks Ago;

The nose of the gun clinked against the cement floor, sending a cold shiver down the beaten man's back. He wiped the stream of blood from his nose and watched as it spread across the back of his hand. With some effort, he looked back up at the one who'd done this to him.

He was young and his own battered appearance hadn't contributed to empowering him. He was a kid compared to him. And yet, here he was, bruises and cuts and all, smiling- actually smiling as he held a gun to the man's head. He might have thought him sadistic if he weren't involved in the same line of work. You had to be a little heartless to do what they did.

"Come on, why make this harder on yourself? All you have to do is tell me who sent out the list," the young man sighed exasperatingly, but his unsettling grin continued to widen.

"I told you that I don't know-"

The butt of the gun slammed into the center of his face once again igniting a hot, throbbing pressure. He groaned as fresh blood drenched the front of his already bloody shirt. His nose was probably broken.

"I heard you the first three times. Your buddies all said the same thing," he motioned towards the bodies littered across the warehouse floor. Whether they were dead or just unconscious, he really didn't care to know. "But I find it hard to believe that not one of you intelligent men can tell me who provided you all with the list."

"Why do you care so damn much?" The man growled and drops bloody spit landed on the kid's boots. "You could be helping get rid of those abominations."

The younger of the two just stared at the beaten man for several seconds before rolling his eyes. He was quickly becoming annoyed by each word that came out of his mouth.  "Save the whole 'cleanse the world' speech for the other narrow-minded barbarians like yourself. Be a little creative for once. Besides, we all know that's not why you just murdered an entire family," he used the butt of the gun to press down on the man's throat, "kids and all."

The older man at least had the decency to look sheepish, but it didn't last very long. "You could be cashing in like the rest of us," he wheezed through his closing windpipe.

The boy released the pressure and the man coughed haphazardly, "now there's the real reason. Chivalry for hunters really is dead."

"Who are you?"

A pleased smile grew on his face, "I thought you'd never ask." He reached into his shirt and revealed a golden pendant hanging around his neck. It seemed to be a simple design, but those knowledgeable enough of the supernatural knew the meaning behind it.

Wide-eyed the man began to struggle again, his legs and arms flailing to be free. "I know who you are!"

"Then you know why I'm here."

The manic movements came to a halt as the man accepted his fate. He huffed and wiped the oozing blood from his face, "people call you the phantom. You come out of nowhere and no one knows who you are or what you look like. Those who get too close to your girl eventually disappear and only the brave risk calling you out of the shadows."

"That's a bit dramatic, wouldn't you say? It's really quite simple, I protect what's mine."

"They're coming for her and there's nothing you can do to stop em', at least not all. You're only one person. It's only a matter of time."

"Tell me who! Tell me!" with fists shaking, he slammed the guy repeatedly to the ground. More blood pooled out from several orifices and he decided the man had had enough. He released him and let his limp body drop, "everyone."

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