Category Archives: 4) Seraph Hunter: Book 1

Article: What and Who Are the Seraph Hunters?

The following is an article that answers many of the questions that I have received regarding the What’s and Who’s of the Seraph Hunters and their world. I hope this helps you to better understand their world.

What and Who Are the Seraph Hunters?
Written by: Ben Marroquin

“It’s because of free will that our world became tainted. Those seeking power and wealth and ‘everlife’ beyond the mortal opened the Abaddon. Releasing daemon beasts to prey on mankind; to mutate and birth the creatures of lore, the supernatural and mythological. If not for the Knights of the Seraphs and 3 priests of the order, the world would have plunged into darkness eternal.” ~ Quote from the book I’m working on.

It was the priests of the seraph order who called down the Seraphim from the heavens, while the knights battled the mad followers of the Cult of the Abaddon. While they were able to close and send back the hellpit beast known as Abbadon, the damage had already been done.

Countless daemons from the hell plane of Ashnur had escaped into our realm; leaving death, destruction, and worse in their wake. All of the Knights of the Seraph were bled and infected by these daemons before they scurried away into the night. But they soon discovered that our world was not made for their kind. The only way for them to survive long was to find hosts they could blend with; mutating hosts into strange beastly forms.

So they scattered into the four corners of the globe; some blending with animals, some with plants, some with insects, some with humans, and some with a combination of the four.

Thus, were born the beasts of supernatural and mythological lore.

Many creatures were unique and evil in their own way; some feasting on human flesh, some feasting on emotions, some with very wicked senses of humor, some just seeking power. Eventually, some formed races like lycanthropes, racnids, krendils, undead beasts, and many more.

Most of these daemon bred beasts are able to disguise themselves in human forms or hide in the shadows of the night or in places and planes humans rarely travel.

The Seraphim took pity upon the inflicted and dying Knight of the Seraphs by offering them a choice: to free them from their earthly forms and fly them to the heavens, allowing mankind to deal with the beasts that man had turned loose upon it or to turn them into hunters through their divine blood, ensuring their Free Will, so that they might balance the odds.

For it is Free Will that truly differentiates seraph hunters from the daemon made beasts.

There are several ways to become a beast of the supernatural. Some are born into such a life through the blood of one of their parents. And some beasts are able to transform a human by infecting them; some with their bites as lycans do, some through bonding rituals, and so on.

Vampires do so in a whole other way, actually draining their victims of blood until they are dead. They then bring them back to life by pumping their own blood into their victim’s corpse; usually by piercing their jugular vein with their fangs. Fangs which have small needle like holes allowing them to inject their blood into those they feel are worthy of becoming a vampire.

The victim’s soul still has a choice though: it can decline to re-enter it’s new undead body and head into the afterlife (as it’s soulless body becomes an undead soulless creature under the vampires control) or it can return to it’s body and accept the blending of it’s soul with the daemon blood and become tainted; thus damning their souls to an eternal flaming afterlife, which is why vampires greatly fear death and hang onto their immortality for as long as possible.

It’s the vampire’s blood that allows it to become an immortal predator of the night. Blood which heightens the senses, provides supernatural strength, transforms elder vampires into bat winged beasts, as well as other supernatural effects (some of which are unique to individual vampires).

But the blood also makes them deathly allergic to sunlight, garlic, and holy water. And their undead nature makes them abominations and an affront to nature, which is why wooden stakes through the heart is such an effective means of dusting such vile parasitical creatures.

Meanwhile, those that are bitten and infected by lycans have a choice as well: they can choose to become a beast of the prey, willingly blending their souls with the lycan’s daemon blood, becoming tainted savage beasts (which still doesn‘t ensure their bodies will survive the transformation since over 66% of the bitten die anyways). Or they can fight the blending and pray they survive till the virus runs it’s course 48 hours later.

What are Seraph Hunters

They are humans who become Seraph Hunters through heredity or through bite; like Jovianna “Jovi” Lynette Wynters (aka Darkclaw). She was bitten by a seraph hunter. He performed the Ritual of Ascension; it is the ultimate ritual because it calls for the seraph hunter to give his life in order to ensure the survival of the bitten.

Seraph Hunters are both gifted and cursed: They are gifted with supernatural abilities that many would give their lives to possess. They are cursed for they spend their lives in constant danger; battling beasts, assassins, dark lords, and protecting the world from apocalypses.

Those lucky or strong enough (most likely both) to survive till old age do so with many emotional and physical scars.

Most Seraph Hunters can transform from human form to hunter form. There are as many different types and races of hunters as there are as many different types of supernatural beasts; it’s just that the supernatural beasts greatly outnumber the seraph hunters because they don’t worry about the great number of humans that die when they attempt to turn them.

There are also rare Seraph Hunters that have only human forms. These hunters are usually gifted with different abilities, ranging from powers of the mind to the magical. 1 in 10,000 are born destined to become a seraph hunter.

Young Seraph Hunters are usually gathered into groups by an elder hunter who becomes their Handler. It is the handler’s job to unite, train, and support their cell of Seraph Hunters.

Who are the Seraph Hunters

1) Averus Stevens: He is a 35 year old male whose wife was killed by an assassin over a decade ago. To the public he is a detective/bounty hunter/dojo owner. To his young group of Seraph Hunters, he is their trainer/mentor/provider. His seraph hunter abilities reside in rune magic and weapons crafting. He has appointed Braydon Warrickson (aka Pulse) as leader of the group. He is also the godfather and legal guardian of Daemon Blackwell (whom was named Daemon by his mother); Daemon’s parents were both killed on the same night.

2) Jovianna Lynette Wynters: Jovi was transformed into a seraph hunter through bite. She is currently a freshmen attending Paradise High. She lives with her mother and is new to the city. Her father was a cop in New York and was butchered one night by a hit man who goes by the name of Macabre; he believes that killing is art. Jovi is a myth lycan seraph hunter with the ability to turn into several deadly forms: the forms known to date are that of a deadly werepanther and that of a bird winged werepanther. What other abilities that are likely to appear in her future are unknown.

Seraph Hunter Codename: Darkclaw

3) Bree Aiken: Bree is a seraph hunter through heredity. Her parents died in a car crash involving a drunken driver, two years ago when she was in 7th grade. She is new to Paradise city and on her 3rd set of foster parents. Her current foster parents are deviants. She is currently a freshmen at Paradise High. Bree is a rare type of druic fae in that she is a summoner. She currently has up to six powerful vine snakes that sprout forth from her back; each vine snake is capable of individual thought and action, can spit out globs of amber hued sap, and are likely to develop further abilities. In addition, Bree can transform her skin to bark, has plant like abilities, can shoot ironwood thorns from her palms, is immune to poison, has an intense hatred of the undead, and can release seeds into the ground that transform into strange and deadly plant based beasts that fight to protect her. There is no doubt that her abilities will continue to grow and expand.

Seraph Hunter Codename: Thorn

4) Dezrie Breanne Hernandez: Dez is a seraph hunter through heredity. Her parents and little brother are currently in hiding through the Order of the Seraph relocation program. These drastic measures were taken in response to the kidnapping of her paternal twin sister, Sierra Rayne Hernandez. Obviously, some dark being or organization has discovered her nature. She was held back in eighth grade due to the stress of the crisis of losing her beloved twin sister, the relocation of her family, and her discovery of her seraph hunter abilities. Abilities she learned from her father that were passed on to her by her long dead grandfather. She is currently a freshmen at Paradise High and one of the trios. They spend their nights patrolling the streets and looking for clues as to what happened to Sierra. She still doesn’t understand why they kidnapped Sierra instead of her, since she is the hunter. No ransom or clues has come to light.

Dezrie is a draic fae seraph hunter. She is distantly related to the small fairy race. When she transforms into her seraph hunter form (draic fae form) she appears as a deep maroon dragon like fairy with golden tattoo like designs appearing on her body and wings. Her face takes on a golden hue, her long curly her resembles a burning flame, her body becomes protected by armor like scales, she has a long whipping tail, razor tip wings, dragon claw feet and hands. From the palms of her hands she is able to release fireballs and has been shone to actually control fire. There has also been unsubstantiated reports of her being able to spew forth streams of flame from her mouth. Her future abilities are unknown. What is known is that she offers a fiery death to her foes.

Seraph Hunter Codename: Spitfire

5) Daemon Blackwell: Daemon is a seraph hunter through heredity. His father was a powerful Spiritmancer seraph hunter and his mother was an Arachnid Reaper. He is rather exotic looking and has an athletic build. He is currently under the care of his godfather turned guardian, Averus Stevens; who is also his handler. From what we have gathered his powers seem to be a combination of Shadowmancery and Arachnid Reaper.

We have witnessed him use the shadows as some sort of shroud, concealing him from enemies. He has also used the shadows as some sort of onyx like exoskeleton and created weapons (claws and swords) from shadow webbing. We have seen him wrap enemies in sticky liquid like shadow webs, that he seems to be able to harden at will. He has even used these inky shadow webs as a flesh piercing weapon by shaping and hardening the tips into spear tipped hooks that rip through the flesh of enemies; they then wrap around the pierced area of the body like a stronger than steel shadow web tether. Quite impressive. We have no doubt that his powers will continue to grow.

Seraph Hunter Codename: Ripshade

6) Braydon Warrickson: Subject currently under surveillance. Report soon to come.

Seraph Hunter Codename: Pulse

7) Sierra Rayne Hernandez: Subject currently under surveillance. Report soon to come.

Seraph Hunter Codename: Frostbite

8) Shae Wynstorm: Subject currently under surveillance. Report soon to come.

Seraph Hunter Codename: Hellbeast


Seraph Hunter: Book 1, Chapter 1 – Gift or Curse

Seraph Hunters:
Gift or Curse

Written by: Ben Marroquin

It crouches, hidden in the shadows of the bushes, unseen. Muscles taut, forest green eyes fixed on it’s prey which is searching the ground for its next meal. A tiny rustle catches the raven’s attention. Nervously, it looks around, takes a couple of hops and spears its head towards the ground. The raven lifts it head triumphantly with a leggy creature in its beak.

From the bushes a cat explodes into motion; a blur of black fur, claws and fangs, and it’s over for the raven.

From the backyard of a beige suburban house with burgundy trimming, a sliding glass door opens. A young raven haired girl emerges with laundry basket in hand. “Ashcot… Ashcot…” her voice calls out.

She looks around. No sign of the cat. It’s busy finishing its meal.

“Where’d you go?” she asks to no one in particular. She hears a faint thump-thump-thumping noise coming from the side of the house.

Placing the empty laundry basket on the porch ground, she walks towards the sound. “Ashcot… Ashcot…” she calls out. Still no answer.

She turns at the side of the house and quickly locates the source of the strange thumping sound: The weathered wooden fence door is open, the warm wind thumping it against the large rubber trash cans located on the front side of the house. She causally walks towards the fence door to close it and notices the long shifting shadows cast on the ground heralding in the evening.

I wonder what school will be like in this city. I hope it doesn’t su… no, no… think positive thoughts… “I so miss my friends,” she says with a soft sigh.

Clinkclinkclinckclink clankclank…clank… clank…CRASH!

The sudden flurries of sounds startles her, causing her to jump. What was that? It’s then that she notices that the side door leading to the garage is ajar. It’s only a few feet away from her.

She gulps, clenches her fists, and steadies herself as she edges near the darkened doorway. “Ashcot, is that you kitty?” her voice is tight with tension. She moves closer to the burgundy painted door, places one hand on the doorframe and the other on the doorknob. She gently pushes it further open, in hopes of allowing more light into the dim cluttered garage.

“Ashcot… Ashcot, are you in there you silly cat?” Her foot slips a little; her hands clench their holdings, keeping her up. She looks down on the freshly stained cement floor and sees a trail of blood leading into the garage.

Her eyes follow the blood trail while she fights the mounting urge to run. Please… Please, don’t let it be her, not mom… I can’t lose her too… she takes a deep breathe of air, washing away those dreaded thoughts and fears, slowing her rapidly beating heart.

Steady now, hands by her side clenching her flowery summer dress, she takes a few unsteady paces into the room. Eyes wide, she takes a sweeping peek inside. Her dark brown eyes stop on a form, dressed in a white type of outfit, huddled on the floor between torn bags of spilt aluminum cans and fallen bikes. The shadow figure groans, clutching its red drenched abdomen as a pool of blood grows on the ground.

Her eyes, adjusted to the dimness of the garage, take in the figure; Long strands of dark hair covers it’s… no… his face, but she can tell that he is not much older than her. From cracks in the hair “mask” she sees a pair of yellowish glowing eyes looking at her. She feels something furry brush her leg, startling her, making her jump again.

With pounding heart, she quickly looks down and notices that it’s only Ashcot. The stranger lifts his blood stained hand towards her, wanting her to get nearer, as if wanting to tell her something. No… I don’t think so she thinks to herself, but Ashcot has other ideas and approaches the stranger. She tries to stop him, but it’s too late.

As if in slow motion, she sees the stranger grab the cat in one hand around the neck and, thinking only of Ashcot’s safety, she lunges forward to pull him away, but is instead caught by the wrist by the stranger’s other hand.

Eyes wild, he whispers through clenched teeth “You must save them all… You must become one of us…”

It is then she notices that the blood tainted white outfit the stranger is wearing is really a straight jacket. Oh no, he must have escaped from the asylum! she thinks as towering waves of rolling panic pound into her.

Before she can react, the stranger bites the inside of his lip, making it bleed. He lifts Ashcot, scratching and clawing, and stares into the cat’s angry eyes. He utters some strange unknown words and the cat goes limp.

In horror, she sees his jaws open and stretch, contorting into some huge beastly fanged filled mouth! She hears herself scream out “NNNOOOO!!!” as his fanged mouth bites into Ashcot’s neck, mingling the cat’s blood with his own in his mouth.

He gently sets the limp cat aside and brings down the horrified little girl to him with both hands. She wants to scream, but fear clutches her voice. He looks up into the dark, as if seeing the velvety night sky and softly chants as blood drips from his lips.

His body begins to pulse with a soft bluish white glow which reaches into the depths of his eyes; looking into his eyes, she sees him reflected within, bright and shiny and corporeal. His ethereal self looks up into her through those pulsing eyes, wings spring forth from its spirit body and launches towards her. The angelic-like spirit shatters through his eyes and enter hers.

Sensing the moment, the stranger moves her head aside with his free hand, and with mouth filled with his and Ashcot’s blood (and unknowingly, the blood of the raven), bites down on her neck. His fangs sink softly into her flesh and pierces the jugular vein, injecting the mixture of blood in his mouth into her body as waves of bluish white energy envelope her.

She feels the burning liquid mixture injected within her course it’s way through her veins towards her heart, leaving a numbing trail of searing pain within. She gasps as the infectious liquid spears her heart and is rapidly pumped throughout her body. She seeks refuge from the pain in her mind but the infectious storm within rains down as her world begins to fade…

Gently laying her down on the ground, the strangers last fading whispers enter her; “I’m sorry… but I must do what I must… you will be reborn… you will be seraph hunter… beware the forsaken… save them all from… apocalypse…” She hears no more as her world is swallowed by the darkness of unconsciousness.

Dingy green hued walls of stone surround her, caging her in like some kind of wild beast. She is chained to a bolted down metal framed bed, able to raise her head enough to see that ominous black metal door which bars her way to freedom. A calliope of screams and wailing echo into her chamber, bombarding her with images of people losing their minds, of people in excruciating pain, of people being consumed or worse.

She hears the distant sound of scratchy footfalls making their way towards her. She knows that her body cannot take anymore of the cocktail of drugs and torture these forsaken beasts have been putting her through. She cannot, will not give them the information they want.

She hears keys jingling and sees the door rattling and closes her eyes, not wanting to see them again. They enter her room and unlock her chains. Large ragged hands with long tendril fingers grasp her arms, claws biting into her flesh as they yank her up. Her feet rasp the ground as they half walk, half drag her through maze-like corridors.

She hears a door open and is taken inside and strapped to a table. The door then closes. She opens her eyes and takes in her surroundings. She’s in what resembles a hospital surgery room; a room which has been turned into a torture chamber as instruments crafted to heal life are used as weapons of pain and, in the end, death. The red stained room reeks of it.

She hears the door open and sees him, the torturer. His ashen hued face is covered by a green surgical mask. He is tall, thin, leathery and stark with hair appearing to be long dark sharpened quills. He seems to glide as he moves across the room. His onyx eyes show no emotion as he moves a tray filled with surgical blades next to her table. With a flourish of hand gestures, he selects a long slender blade and holds it over her heaving chest. Her eyes widen in pain filled anticipation of what’s to come…

The blade plunges down… “AAAAIIIIIIGGGGHHHH!”

Jovi wakes, heart pounding, limbs shaking, stomach churning, and body soaked with sweat. Several minutes pass before she gets her bearings. She bolts upright suddenly as her memory comes flooding into her mind, making her world spin. The vertigo causes her to spin to her hands and knees and spew.

She shakily gets to her feet as her head begins to burn with heat and her body pulses with chills. Her pitch black world begins to swish left and right. Guided by memory, she wobbles her way to the garage door leading into the kitchen, opens it, and is momentarily blinded by light. Slowly but surely she makes her way to her room and stumbles onto bed. Her eyes close just as the front door opens…