The Rabbit and the Wolfe

Hello everyone! Welcome to my new fan fiction: The Rabbit and the Wolfe! This takes place shortly after the events of Halo 4, but with a slightly altered storyline. You may be wondering why I have started yet another story when my other ones are not complete yet. This is partly because I wanted a break and partly because I wanted to write about one of my most favorite series: Halo! I hope you guys and gals enjoy this sci-fi fic with a dabble or two of romance. Don't forget to follow and review! Now enjoy as our new story unfolds!

Updated 7/9/2017: Improvements to grammar, punctuation, presentation and continuity.

01: The Hunt Begins

UNSC Infinity

S-deck

Kelly had often been considered the fastest SPARTAN alive, not only in comparison to her brothers and sisters in the SPARTAN-II program, but could exceed speeds that the III's and IV's could only dream of, making her the fastest human ever to live. Her lightning quick reflexes allowed for her to complete ordinary tasks much faster than her comrades, and had to slow herself down considerably before missions, just for other SPARTANS to spar with her. She often practiced "twitch-response drills" to keep her reflexes on point. That is why the scout was absentmindedly twirling one of Linda's sniper rounds between her fingers as her and the rest of the newly reformed Blue Team watched another Pelican touch down.

The looming blast doors closed for the final time. Infinity had been restocking on supplies and personnel for the past ten days. Their last deployment to the shield world Requiem had been an eventful one. The Ur-Didact had crippled the flagship after it had been dragged into the center of the sphere by a strong gravitational force. The former captain, Andrew Del Rio, had been relieved of command by Admiral Hood and FLEETCOM because of his actions, especially the abandonment of the Master Chief. Captain Thomas Lasky had been promoted and had performed expertly in helping the Chief destroy the Mantle's Approach above New Phoenix. MAC rounds had been expended, missiles had been launched, and numerous lives had been lost, including the Master Chief's longtime friend and ally, the AI Cortana. When the Infinity had maneuvered its massive hull into the nearest docking station that could fit it, the top level of plating had been pretty much melted away. There were holes and scars in the places where Promethean weapons had scored deep hits. Needless to say, the ship had taken a serious beating and needed a lengthy list of repairs. Most of the critical repairs had already been completed when the last Pelican had landed inside the massive starship.

The back hatch opened up, allowing the artificial light to filter through the slowly widening space like the sun rising over the horizon. With a hiss, the gangplank lowered to the deck where it stopped with a soft clink. Blue Team watched as a new group of soldiers stepped out into one of the many hangars on the Infinity. But these were not fresh Marines, greener than grass after a rainstorm. No, these were battle-hardened ODST troopers. Their matte black coverings stuck out considerably against the brightly lit backdrop of the hangar. Kelly quickly scanned over each one, noting the many scars, dents, plasma damage and other imperfections that pot marked the troopers' armor. They had descended from the ramp with practiced efficiency, while they glanced all around, checking their corners. Kelly and the other members of Blue Team could relate. This was a response that quickly became hardwired into their brains. Failing to check your surroundings was almost as bad as purposely shooting yourself in the leg, any soldier with even barely a minute of combat experience knew that.

They were toting their gear in matte black duffel bags that matched their armor plating, milling about like lost puppies who had forgotten which direction home was in. It wasn't till someone barked "Officer on deck!" That there was a flurry of movement. Kelly scrambled onto her feet, slamming the bullet onto the table, nearly causing the round to go off, snapping a sharp, practiced salute to the young man who commanded the UNSC flagship, the Infinity. Lasky returned it with equal fervor and everyone returned to their duties. Kelly idly picked up the sniper's round yet again and resumed twirling it in between her expert digits, arcs of bronze flashing in the corner of her vision. The rest of Blue Team had returned to their own tasks, cleaning their weapons and inspecting their armor. Kelly would have too, if she had any that weren't already cleaned, inspected and stored. Her personal shotgun, Oathsworn, sat on the table, a gleaming act of defiance against the demons that had made it their goal to destroy her and her SPARTAN brothers and sisters. Her nickname had been imprinted on the weapon as a personal tribute to all of her fallen friends that she had lost over the years.

She glanced up just in time to intercept the tail end of a glare that Commander Palmer had thrown her way. While she didn't personally have anything against the Commander or any of the other SPARTAN-IV's, her professional opinion was that this new generation were not as dedicated… no, that wasn't right. Each and every one that she had come across had been just as committed as the next. Although they performed well in combat, both simulated and otherwise, they lacked the coherency her and the other members of Blue Team had forged with one another. But on the other hand she couldn't blame them. If they had seen half the shit she had, most of them would probably go insane. But they had not been training together since they were six years old and hadn't honed their deadly skills in over 20 years of bloody, grueling combat either. Her inner comparisons came to a screeching halt when she caught sight of one of the ODST troopers staring right at her, arms crossed. It was only out of practice that she caught the armor piercing round in her gauntleted hand. Kelly felt an…odd sensation flash across her frame that went just as quickly as it came. She tilted her head slightly to hide a shiver that ran down the length of her spine like a lightning bolt. If the other members of her family noticed it, which she was sure they did, they made no mention of it.

Lance Corporal Sandra Wolfe looked about the enormous hangar, taking in the sight of the massive structure that loomed around her. An impressive array of Pelicans stood tall like proud olive green soldiers under the artificial lighting of the framework above it. Scorpions were hoisted up on large platforms by cranes, only to be shuffled around the hangar like toy cars. The Warthogs, in all their cumulative glory, reigned over their massive tires as their LAAG's were stripped and cleaned by marines and technicians alike. Other variants of the instantly recognizable troop transport were also enjoying the same through treatment. Reeling in her wandering eyes, she looked down at herself with a critical eye. Most of her armor was standard issue, but she wanted to add some of her own personal touches to it. She had removed the right pauldron and replaced the left one with an ultra-light composite plate that rose to just above her neck. Magazines were strapped and crammed into every nook and cranny in her armor and had her combat knife from basic training secured to one of her boots. Nicks and dings littered the armor, not to mention a plethora of scorch marks from the superheated plasma used to slaughter her comrades. The most noticeable feature, however, were the wolf eyes on her breastplate she had carved out herself. They were tinged purple from all the blood that had soaked and coated the shield that protected her beating heart.

At 6 foot and just shy of 200 pounds (which did not include the weight of her duffel bag she was currently forced to haul around), she stood tall and proud of the ODST she had become, forging herself through the bloody hellfire of war with the Covenant. Their brutal genocide had nearly ripped the most precious gift anyone ever gave her, her life, more times than she cared to count. No, life enjoys playing its sick fucking games with me, she thought bitterly as memories of fallen comrades flashed before her eyes. Her mood soured and she frowned behind her visor. Shifting the bulky gear to a more comfortable position, she lightly tapped twice at the two objects magnetized to her hips, making sure her most precious treasures had not been confiscated as contraband, again.

A light elbow to the ribs brought her eyes back up to the world around her. Turning to the ODST beside her, they stared at each other's visor until the other soldier spoke up. "Wolfe, look. Spartans." She ignored the obvious awe in his young voice and instead crossed her arms and followed his finger till she locked eyes with the group of Spartans the young recruit had pointed out. There were four of them. But they weren't just any Spartans. No, this was the fabled, almost mythical, Blue Team. These four Spartan-II's had been some of the only ones to actually make it through the entirety of the Human-Covenant War. If you were to believe the stories, they had each participated in hundreds of missions and numerous campaigns. Their kill counts were through the roof, each single Spartan accomplishing what would normally take a company of Marines, maybe more.

But Sandra knew the truth. Although they were biologically stronger, faster, and smarter than she could ever be, deep down, below all that armor and mesh they were all the same. Blood, tissue, bone and duty. They were soldiers, from the day they entered the service till they day they left (though leave had many different avenues). On the whole, she was unimpressed, ignoring the whispers and murmurs of the soldiers around her as they conversed in their own worlds, motioning to the Spartans like they were some sort of gods to be raised on a pedestal for all to worship. That was not to say she did not respect their skills or forget the fact that many of her friends are still alive today because of the Spartans. They were just men and women, like her, trying to fulfil the duties placed upon their shoulders by the UNSC. That was the tone she was trying to convey to the white Spartan that sat across the hangar, clutching a sniper round in its fist.

"-lly." She thought she heard her name being called over their private channel, but all she could focus on was the visor staring back at her. Unconsciously, her grip around the bullet drastically increased, much to the chagrin of whomever was trying to pull it out from her fingers. Her throat suddenly dried up, like discovering an oasis in the middle of the desert was just a mirage. Then came a tingling sensation at the back of her neck, one she and the other members of her family had become quite accustomed to, and took quite seriously. She was immediately on high alert, her enhanced retinas taking in the entirety of the expanse around her, without any movement of her neck or head. All of this only took the majority of a few seconds to accomplish. "Kelly." Her name came over the COM louder than she expected, almost like a low rumble. She tensed until she felt a light bump on the shoulder, likely Linda. She forced herself to relax as the ODST broke contact and shuffled quickly along with the rest of the platoon.

She flashed her sniper companion a quick nod, almost too fast for the other Spartan to even register it. Kelly held out her palm, the bronze spear glinting in the florescent lighting. It was quickly snatched up and loaded into the waiting magazine by Linda. "Thanks, Chief." Came her terse reply. There was a moment of silence, only held in place by the constant buzz of activity around them, before Fred chose to speak up. "What was that all about?" quickly gesturing with his hand to the last of the ODST units still filing out of the hangar. After another moment of silence, one long enough for the remaining members of Blue Team to share a quick glance, she spoke once more.

"It was nothing, Fred. I believe Captain Lasky wanted to brief us on our upcoming mission. Or did you already forget?" The Spartan in question shot her a rude gesture as they collected their weapons and moved with purpose towards the nearest elevator. They huddled against one another as the lift effortlessly carried the two plus tons of armored humans towards the command deck.

UNSC Infinity

C-deck

"Run it by me again, Roland." Lasky's voice seemed flat and uninterested. He hated meetings like that, even just bureaucracy in the first place, but he respected those above him. And besides, that was the last one he would have to attend in a long while. Commander Palmer stood rigidly next to him at the holo display on the bridge, her hands clasped behind her. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, as if to rub a miniscule amount of dirt off of the skin. Ambient pools of light flickered from the displays around him, coaxing the alloys of the room into a dance with the light. Members of Infinity's bridge crew shuffled this way and that, preparing for launch and coordinating with other parts of the ship like a colony of ants. He gave a tired sigh and gazed lazily out the windows until the AI's response brought him back. Roland's orange avatar floated into existence over the table and ran through his explanation again.

"Another whisper, sir. I don't understand it myself. These whispers have been appearing all over mapped UNSC space, but neither us or the Elites have any idea what is going on. Their origins seem to be Forerunner, but they don't quite add up. Dr. Glassman and the other scientists have been working at it for days, but are making little progress. I am run- "

"Is it a threat?" Palmer interrupted, eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to offend the AI for his lack of answers. The orange shrugged his shoulders in a gesture, hoping to offend the Spartan. It worked, because she crossed her arms and the edges of her mouth inched downward. The AI pushed again as a large smile spread across his face. Palmer's scowl deepened as the AI continued. "Not that we know of. Some of the colonies located near some of these events have gone dark and units have been tasked to investigate, but…" He trailed off as small frown broke out over the Captain's face.

"We won't know until we can investigate these colonies further. Very well Roland. Keep an eye out for any developments." He was about to dismiss the AI when another thought struck him. "What is our status on the repairs?" Roland gave him a thumbs up before stepping off the table. Lasky eased back and stretched, releasing a few kinks that had accumulated from his poor posture. He glanced over to see Sarah was thumbing through her com pad. He quirked an eyebrow and called her name.

"Blue Team, along with the 'extra' asset you have requested, are on their way." She indicated that she was not happy with the 'extra' asset he wanted, but he just kept his reasons to himself.

Kelly's eyes swept the room like floodlights, pulling in as much of her surroundings as she could. Captain Lasky was explaining to the Master Chief what Blue Team's role in the upcoming operation would encompass, but Kelly wasn't really paying attention. This was a first for the scout. Although her body stood at rapt attention, her mind was like a tennis match, slowly bouncing back and forth between this new soldier that had somehow acquired her full attention, however short it was for, and details of the upcoming op. She may have been somewhat out of it, but her head snapped to a figure as they stepped out from the corner of the deck, spilling from the shadows like water from a spout. The soldier snapped a sharp salute, which Lasky respectfully repeated. Her HUD informed her the wearer of the armor was one Lance Corporal Sandra Wolfe, a highly decorated ODST who had survived some of the worst the Covies had to offer. She pushed the newest member in the room from her mind and returned her gaze to the briefing. Or at least tried to. That same tingling sensation, like when someone slowly grazes their fingers across another's skin, crawled its way up from the tips of her toes to burrow into every artery, vein, and capillary in her body, purging any other thoughts from her mind. She tried to focus on the voices bouncing around the room, but they were muffled and out of focus. Kelly tried to still her slight movements, a dead giveaway that the older Spartan was nervous about something. Not one, but two sets of eyes burned into the back of her skull like a lance. Instinct pleaded her muscles to flee but years of training kept her rooted in place.

"With all due respect sir, I feel that the additional support will only slow us down. We move faster on our own." The Master Chief had voiced a concern that had been on everyone's mind for the past hour as they planned every aspect of the mission down to the last detail, with backups if things went awry. Palmer took a step towards the older Spartan, eyeing him warily. She was cut off from saying anything when Lasky held up a hand. She took half a step backwards, but did not ease up on her stare. "Chief, I have the utmost respect for you and the rest of Blue Team, but I cannot disregard these orders, even if I wanted to. They come from Fleet Admiral Hood himself. You required to take Fireteam Avalanche and a squad of ODST's along with you this time. I'm sorry Chief, but that is the way it has to be." His sad, albeit firm tone echoed around the room with a sense of finality.

"Understood, sir."

The Spartans gave one final salute to their commanding officer then left, Palmer following them out to ensure that Avalanche was properly preparing themselves. Wolfe was the last one remaining, besides the Captain and the other officers on the bridge. She had just set foot outside the door when she heard Lasky clear his throat causing her to stop mid-stride. Angling her head over her uncovered shoulder she caught the young man staring back at her. His face set, but there was a hint of uncertainty in his eyes, along with something else… perhaps fear.

"I had Roland pass along notices to all of the other ODST's who will be joining you, including your commander."

"I'm sorry they couldn't make it sir."

Lasky nodded his head. "Well you were the youngest. It also helped that you were the only available that did not have a date with a medical gurney." Wolfe could tell the smirk in his voice.

"Yes sir." Although she was smiling, she kept it away from her voice.

"Good luck out there."

"Thank you, sir." As she walked along the corridor, she heard his voice again, this time in barely a whisper, before the doors to the bridge closed, sealing the hallway in silence. The words 'God, I hope were wrong' echoed through her head as she marched down the lengthy metal path, her boots ringing off the titanium surface. In her active, clustered mind one thought kept rising above all others: So do I.

UNSC Infinity

S-deck

The ship had entered slipspace a few hours after Kelly and Sandra had returned to their respective quarters to prepare for deployment. Their destination: Roost, in the Lambda Aurigae system. A human controlled colony that had been under the control of the United Earth Government up until a few weeks ago, when it had suddenly gone dark. The hybrid engines released their throaty growl, like a thundering waterfall, muffled by cliffs, as it hauled the massive ship through the blackness of slipspace transit. Even though the group had been divided into two separate divisions, one for each Pelican, they stuck with their own as they scrutinized their equipment. The members of Fireteam Avalanche, designated Avalanche 1-6, were perusing a table full of weapons and ammunition of all kinds. Battle Rifles, DMR's, and Assault Rifles quickly disappeared from the plethora of weapons and a multitude of ammo. The ODST's made their way over after most of the Spartans had left to tweak the settings of the scopes to their liking. Most of the troopers already had their own weapons of choice, but they took special interest in the table of heavy weapons. Like a flock of ravens, the mass of black oozed towards the table until it was surrounded on all sides. There was a frantic collection of hushed whispers as well as more than a few loud clunks and dull bangs as these powerful monstrosities were administered to the excited troopers. While this drew the attention to the other Spartans, they quickly ignored the eager soldiers in favor of their own brothers and sisters. As they drew back from the table one by one, weapons in hand, the ODST's grabbed a few grenades from the nearby crates and clipped them to their belts.

Sandra shook her head at the overzealous display of enthusiasm and returned her focus to her own weapon. The Wolf's Punishment, as one of her commanders had coined it, was her personal DMR. Multicolored splotches ranging from bright orange and cyan to deep purple covered the weapon from the barrel to the stock. It had internal stabilization jets, a longer barrel, an extended magazine with a 20 round capacity, and an incorporated silencer. She looked upon it with awe and her eyes shown with love behind her visor as she clutched the weapon close to her armored frame. Quickly running through a mental checklist, she made some quick adjustments to the scope before gingerly setting the prized weapon down on a nearby crate. Sauntering over to the box filled with different types of grenades, she pulled as much of the contents into her arms as she could. Stopping with an uncountable amount still in her arms she stopped and shook her head fervently. She was used to being a lone wolf. Operating on her own had told many things, chief among them being: If you can safely carry it, take it. You will probably need it. If they crashed with that many grenades in such an enclosed space, Captain Lasky could probably see the explosion from the Infinity. Not to mention that it would kill at least two of the remaining Spartan-II's. Gingerly easing the contents in her arms back into the crate, she picked up five this time. 2 plasmas and 3 fragmentation grenades. Easing through the dissipating crowd of soldiers, cautious of the amount of live munitions floating about, Wolfe seized up a standard shotgun and sniper rifle with a few magazines for each. After a quick check to make sure everything was in order, she clamped the other two weapons to her back and hoisted Punishment into her arms.

Pelican Dropship

En route to surface of Roost

"Weapons and coms check." Fred announced over the roar of the engines to the other crewmembers. A flurry of clicks and thunks followed as ODST and Spartan alike performed last minute adjustments to their gear.

"Avalanche 1 here, all green."

"Avalanche 4, lean, mean and very green."

"Avalanche 6, good to go Lieutenant."

"Corporal Dance here. I'm good"

"Lance Corporal Wolfe here. Green across the board."

The older Spartan nodded when the others had finished their radio check, conversing with quick hand signals with the only other member of his family. The sniper made a few quick gestures of her own before tapping her helmet, most likely to converse with the other members of Blue Team. The passengers looked up as the audio system crackled to life. "Infinity, this is Tahoe-2, how copy?"

"Reading you five-by-five. Mission is a go. See you on the other side Tahoe-2."

"Roger Infinity."

Wolfe could hear switches being flipped and knobs being turned as Bravo raced towards the ground like a missile. She could hear the metal screech like a banshee as it fought against the stresses of the accelerated entry compounded by the unyielding grip of gravity. Her stomach rose to her throat as the Pelican plummeted towards the ground, as if the concept of gravity simply ceased to exist. She squeezed her eyes shut and prayed for the green bulky transport to hold itself together. Apparently, the gods heard her prayers and the Pelican flattened out. Her insides flipped and rolled around with this quick change of direction, and threatened to push whatever she had for breakfast back up. She could taste her own spittle and hints of bile seeped into her mouth. Laughter like cackling hyenas assaulted her sinuses, giving her the beginnings of a headache. A fist slammed into the side of the Pelican with such force that it dented the metal. The laughter quickly died out after that and the rest of the ride was spent in silence.

They rushed out from the gangplank, eyes and ears searching for threats. Most of the planet was covered in beautiful rolling tropical forests and beaches. Though, once again there proved to be an exception to everything. They made for a rocky outcropping, its dark, jagged peaks covered in shadows, loose shale cracking beneath their boots. Nestled amongst the spires of sediment, they waited for Spartan 104 to make contact with Alpha team. Finally, after what seemed like hours of tense delay, a voice broke through the silence.

"This is Spartan 087, Alpha team is on site and moving towards the ob-" the voice cut in and out before finally going dead, white noise filling the com channel. Fred turned to the rest of Bravo team.

"Coms are useless," He looked up to the atmosphere where arcs of lightning streaked across the clouded skies like some god was trying to open up the skies above them. "Electrical interference. Short-range still works, but don't rely on it." He received a chorus of 'yes sir' over the TEAMCOM as he glanced around, as if looking for something. "Lance Corporal Wolfe, you're on point. Keep your eyes and ears sharp. We have your back."

"Yes sir." Came her crisp response. She moved to the head of the file and quickly looked behind her at the ten other members trailing behind. She nodded once before spinning on her heel and easing out into the rocky path, keeping one eye on her motion tracker. They made their way up a winding path that had been naturally cut into the side of the cliff. The higher they went the more the wind seemed to pick up, turning from a light breeze into a miniature cyclone, throwing dirt and rocks into their faces. That, combined with the almost torrential downpour that had started almost instantly, as if the skies had simply been ripped open and a raging waterfall were dumped upon their heads. They were safe and dry inside their armor, but that doesn't mean that the traveling was easy, or quick. In fact, Bravo was forced to stop quite a few times in order for the rain to ease up a bit in order to just cross a natural formation without falling to their deaths. As they climbed over the last hill, they made it to a rocky plain that had a few outcropping and crevices for cover. The ground was slick and muddy, which would cause difficulties if they had to hoof it out of there. The open plain split into two paths on the other side, one leading left and the other going right, partially covered by jutting bedrock.

The team split up to seek cover as Fred, Linda and Wolfe crept towards the other side, keeping to the shadows. They stopped about fifteen feet away and Sandra inched forward alone, almost dragging herself across the rocks and dirt, ignoring the prickling sensations as they found their way between the plates of her armor. She poked her head over the side and took a sudden inhale. A feeling of fear tried to worm its way into her, but she forced it down with a dry gulp as she transferred her HUD feed to the rest of Bravo. The Covenant were here. And in force, by the looks of it. As her gaze swept over the remains of the human compound she could see Banshees circled the skies like purple carrion birds hunting for prey. Ghosts, Revenants, and Specters zoomed around the outskirts of the charred and broken remains, only concerned with their duties, running over corpses, human bodies, as they tended to their tasks. As she continued to look out towards the glowing purple mass of hatred. She spotted something odd, human spotlights. They were pointed towards the mouth of a cave where Grunts entered and exited at a hurried pace, hauling around carts of some sort of material. Following the trail of methane breathers, her heart stopped. Or at least skipped a beat or two. A Scarab. They were manufacturing a Scarab tank here. She heard one of her teammates curse in horror. And standing on top of it was a large hulking mass of fur and armor. Its massive rippling muscled arms were crossed in front of him, pointing and grunting loudly at the soldiers under his command. Its black armor was only visible because of the red, glowing outlines that flowed over its armor like lava down a mountainside.

A startled squeal from the left drew Bravo's attention. A grunt had toppled out of a small crevice hidden along the left path. The little creature's eyes were wide with fear. With barely a second to blink, a knife shot out of the dark and buried itself hilt-deep into the methane-breather's throat. A strained gurgle escaped its lips as bright blue blood flowed freely. The life faded from its eyes and its body rolled down the path. A loud growl came from the other side of the rock face as an angry brute rounded the corner. It roared in a challenge that echoed down the hills to the camp, where all motion seemed to stop and all of the aliens craned their heads to the disturbance. A low rumble of alien voices rose from the camp to fill the quarry. As hundreds of alien aliens charged the base of the cliff face, the vehicles let loose a firestorm of superheated plasma. The men and women of Bravo team wasted little time; they quickly cut down the brute in a hail of gunfire, globs of dark red sprouting from its back. Sandra sprinted for cover, her heart pounding in her ears. The familiar wail of a Banshee could be heard behind her, but forged ahead. Moments later, it was cut short as a rocket knocked it from the sky in a spectacular purple fireball. Diving behind cover, she glanced over to see one of the members of Fireteam Avalanche giving her a thumbs up. Giving a quick gesture in return, Wolfe stood up and began hammering the Covenant troops that charged up the paths like rolling thunder. They were out for blood, but she would bathe in theirs.

Come Back Next Time!

Seems like Bravo team has gotten themselves in a bit of trouble with some Covies.

-cue deep thoughts- I wonder how this will end…

Well, I know but you don't! Muhahahahahaha!

*cough* *cough* Sorry. Some dust got in my lungs.

Anyway, I have placed a few Easter eggs, if you will, in this chapter, quotes or motions that reference the games. I hope to do this in every chapter. But, hey, nobody's perfect. There will be chapters that might not have any. We'll see. Keep your eyes peeled!

This will be a romance fiction, but will have lots of action to satisfy your tastes for things going BOOM! Because everyone likes explosions. True fact.

I promise that next chapter will have a larger focus on our resident rabbit, Kelly. I hope to have a new chapter out every week or week-and-a-half, but life can be a bitch. So… just bear with me please?

Let me know how my writing is! These lovely characters are here for you! (Well, that, and my own overactive imagination), but mainly for you! I hope you enjoy this story and leave me your heartfelt comments (trust me, I read every one of them).

Questions will be asked. Answers will be given. It all happens here. So to sate your voracious appetites for destruction I have included a little teaser for next time:

The tiny creatures tried to flee, but were quickly sliced apart by the twin streaks of red that tore through their ranks. Blue, purple, and dark red blood coated the walls and floor. Pools of the sticky substance intermixed to form a multicolored picture of mutilation. Bodies in various states of death littered the floor, piled near the doors trying to claw their way past their dead brothers in a vain attempt to secure their own freedom. The red glow cast by the ionized plasma gave the figure an eerie, almost deathlike, appearance as it stared down the only remaining creature in the gore-covered area. The large, burly creature coughed up a glob of blood spitting it out onto the floor. He clutched his side, where one of the red blades had ripped through his armor and cut deep into his side.

"Demon." It growled, trying to sound threatening, but failing miserably as a feeling of utter terror surged up from deep within the creatures subconscious. The brute was visibly taken back when his assailant laughed back at him as it shook its head. It was not a laugh filled with mirth, but one that could be characterized as possessed or demonic.

"I'm no demon."

The cold voice sent chills down the chieftain's spine but he wanted to know who had bested him in combat. So he steeled himself and growled out a response.

"T-than what are you?"

The figure cocked its head like it did not understand the question, but spoke anyway, that cold, emotionless voice sending another shiver down his spine.

"A hunter." It said, plunging both of the red swords into the large beast's throat before it gave one last tremble and collapsed under its own weight.

-whistles- Wow. Mystery! Intrigue! Stay tuned everyone.

One last thing: Sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes. I try, but I am only one person.