Narrator/ 3rd Person POV:
Vendetta ran, his feet pattering against the ground as he sped away.
He couldn't stop; he was being hunted.
Many assumed he was a freak, a monster for the taking.
He ducked behind a tree, thinking it would offer him protection from the huntress.
Until a bullet struck it.
It missed him as he turned and kept running, losing his bandanna.
He continued to speed away as the huntress reloaded her gun and spat on the ground. She took aim again as Vendetta continued to speed away.
And she hit a lucky shot.
The shot she had taken at Vendetta had struck him in the shoulder, causing him to fall to the ground.
The white of his shirt was stained with blood as he continued to crawl, desperate to keep himself alive for longer.
"He bleeds." She muttered, reloading her sniper, preparing to shoot the final blow.
Vendetta continued to crawl on the ground.
As he did, he grabbed onto something.
He opened his eyes and saw he was grabbing onto a black shoe.
He looked, before him, there was a strange lady.
She had a dark purple gown, a piercing amber gaze and horns on her head, a hat in her hands.
"I know your name," she growled, a small smile on her face. "But the world does not."
Vendetta was terrified.
Was this lady a hunter as well?
She lowered to his height as she spoke.
"Do you want them all to know your name? To fear you as though you are the devil? I'll need you to stand and say yes." She whispered, raising herself back up to her tall posture.
Vendetta raised himself off of the ground with the help of the lady, whimpering in agony from the pain of the bullet wound in his shoulder.
"SAY IT!" she screamed, her amber gaze slashing his own, causing him to stumble.
"Y...y... yes." He stammered, adrenaline and dread coursing through him.
She put the hat on Vendetta's head.
He whimpered as the magic of the hat enveloped him.
Soon, it ran through his body as he screamed out in fear and pain, gripping the hat as he did, as the horned lady walked away into the night.
As the huntress looked around, wondering where Vendetta had gone, she felt a sharp pain in her heart.
She had been shot.
In mere seconds, she went from a huntress to dead meat in a field outside of Delamont.
"Sorry, Miss," He said, taking his hat off and bowing. "But you can't live much longer because of what you did."
Vendetta took the huntress' mirror from her belt pocket and looked at himself.
He was a reformed man.
His eyes had turned a dark shade of red, gloves now on his formerly dirty hands.
His hair was as black as the midnight sky he was under
Once he put the huntress' mirror back, he placed his hat back on his head and ran to the Delamont bridge to enter the town.
He was no longer Vendetta.
He was Delamont's Un-named Bandit...