I would classify the following piece as a cross between horror flash fiction and superhero flash fiction. The characters were taken from the book I’m currently working on: Seraph Hunters. I hope you enjoy it.
To Hunt the Hunters
Written by: Ben Marroquin
Blurry eyes opened, my head throbbed in pain. What in the blazes? I feel like I’ve been hit by a… “no,” I whispered as my eyes fell on her fallen form. Spitfire was down. And Hellbeast raged against the pack.
It was then that the memories came back.
Werewolf activity had become extreme the past couple of nights, innocent blood stained the streets. It could only mean one thing, a new pack had made our city their home.
We had to act quickly, before the spread of the lycan’s parasitical virus gained an unbreakable foothold.
Our handler, Averus, had broken us up into two groups with one goal in mind: To kill the Alpha. “Frostbite, Soul Reaper, Darkclaw, Thorn you got eastside,” he said. “Pulse, Spitfire, Hellbeast take westside. Remember, this city is counting on you.” Even if they don‘t know it we thought to ourselves. So the hunt began.
We had entered the back alleys of the red light district when it happened. The pack had been cunning, ambushed us from up high. No wonder Hellbeast hadn’t caught their scent in time.
Before I knew it, my head had exploded in pain. I slipped into the darkness of unconsciousness, only to awaken to this sight. Spitfire on the ground, half transformed into her red draic fae form and the powerful Hellbeast, in major rampage mode but badly outnumbered.
I willed the juice to flow, to pulse within my veins as I got to my feet. I felt the flickers of consciousness awakening within Spitfire, felt her rage as she finished her transformation as my mind began to give shape to the energy within me.
I am Pulse, leader of my team of Seraph Hunters and I’ll be damned if we’ll lose this fight to pack of mangy werewolves. Pain filled sounds of howling filled the night as the moon hid behind a shroud of clouds.