Chapter 3 – Fallen and Found

The Hunter’s Path

Cyrus’s POV

The air was crisp as I navigated through the dense Romanian forest, my senses heightened and my sword at the ready. I moved with the silent grace of a predator, each step calculated and precise. I’d been tracking demonic activity for days, following a trail of dark energy that seemed to pulse and weave through the land. My training as a demon hunter had taught me to recognize these patterns, the subtle signs that marked a place touched by the demonic. The signs were all around me now, an oppressive heaviness that clung to the air and whispered of danger. Just what I needed—a weekend getaway in Transylvania with a side of demonic possession.

A tip from a trusted contact had led me to this region, the whispers of something significant stirring beneath the ancient ruins the archaeologists were so eagerly excavating. It was no surprise that the demons were drawn here, like moths to a flickering flame. But what worried me was the frequency and intensity of their appearances. Something—or someone—was acting as a magnet, amplifying their presence. Maybe they found a cursed artifact? Or stumbled upon a portal to demon karaoke night?

I felt a sense of urgency, a gnawing anxiety that drove me to push harder, move faster. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows that danced and twisted like grotesque puppets. My eyes adjusted to the dim light, and I saw a faint glow in the distance. The archaeologists’ camp. Ah, the joys of fieldwork: dirt, sweat, and the occasional demonic incursion.

I observed from the shadows, noting the movements of the people. They seemed blissfully unaware of the danger lurking just beyond their tents. A group huddled around a crackling fire, their laughter echoing through the trees. Three figures stood out: a woman with a messy bun of dark brown curls who seemed to be the life of the party, a woman with chestnut-brown hair and striking blue eyes, and a young man with a mop of dark curls who seemed to orbit her like a lovesick satellite. Young love amidst the ruins. How… romantic?

Over the next few days, I made the forest my home, watching the archaeologists by day and patrolling the perimeter by night. I became a silent observer, a phantom lurking in the shadows. The blue-eyed woman, Kate, as I overheard her name, was a fascinating creature. She moved with a quiet grace, her laughter like a melody in the otherwise mundane symphony of the dig site. There was a spark in her eyes, a curiosity that mirrored my own, although directed towards a different kind of discovery. She’s got that ‘Indiana Jones’ vibe going for her.

The young man, Dan, was a different story. Clumsy and excitable, he reminded me of a puppy chasing its tail. He was clearly smitten with Kate, his eyes following her every move with an almost comical adoration. I couldn’t help but smirk at his antics, a brief respite from the grim reality of my mission. Someone’s got a crush. Maybe he’ll find a love potion in those ruins.

The other woman, Elena, was a whirlwind of energy, her laughter echoing through the camp. She seemed to be the heart of the group, her presence a source of warmth and camaraderie. She’s definitely the one to watch out for at the pub crawl.

One afternoon, as I watched from my hidden vantage point, I saw Dan suddenly wince and yelp in pain. Kate dashed over to him, her expression filled with concern. As she knelt beside him, her hands hovering over his wound, I felt a surge of energy, like a ripple in the fabric of reality. The air crackled with an unseen force, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.

When I looked again, the wound was gone, replaced by smooth, unblemished skin. Kate and Dan exchanged a look of bewilderment, then shrugged it off as a fleeting optical illusion. But I knew better. I had witnessed the impossible, the undeniable proof of someone’s power. Well, well, well…. Looks like someone here is moonlighting as a miracle worker!

That night, as the archaeologists slept soundly in their tents, I patrolled the perimeter, my senses on high alert. The demonic energy was growing stronger, drawn to the camp with an almost desperate hunger. I could feel their eyes on us, their malice a tangible force.

A rustling in the underbrush caught my attention, and I turned to see a creature with the body of a wolf and the head of a raven emerge from the darkness. Its eyes burned with an unnatural fire, and its claws dripped with venom.

I moved silently, my sword a whisper of steel in the night. The creature sensed my presence, its head snapping towards me with a guttural snarl. It lunged, its claws outstretched, but I was ready. My blade met its flesh with a sickening crunch, the sound muffled by the thick undergrowth. The creature hissed in pain, its form flickering and distorting.

I pressed my attack, my movements a whirlwind of steel and shadow. The demon fought back, its claws raking the air, but it was no match for my skill and experience. With a final, decisive blow, I severed its head from its body.

I quickly disposed of the remains, burying them deep in the forest floor, far from the prying eyes of the archaeologists. I couldn’t risk them discovering the truth.

For the next few days, I continued my surveillance, my focus narrowing in on Kate and Dan. I watched their interactions, their every move, searching for any sign of who possessed the power I had witnessed. Dan, despite his initial injury, seemed unchanged, his clumsiness and infatuation with Kate unwavering. But Kate… there was an energy about her, a warmth that drew me in, even as it repelled the darkness that sought to consume her. It was as if she were a living contradiction, a beacon of light in a world of shadows.

I found myself drawn to her, not just out of duty, but out of a curiosity that bordered on obsession. I watched her laugh with Elena, her eyes sparkling with a joy that seemed to defy the darkness that surrounded us. I saw her determination as she meticulously brushed away dirt from ancient artifacts, her touch gentle yet firm. I observed her quiet moments of reflection, her brow furrowed in thought as she pondered the mysteries of the past.

And as I watched, I felt a stirring within me, a feeling I hadn’t experienced in a long time. It was a mix of admiration, intrigue, and a longing for something I couldn’t quite define. It was a dangerous distraction, I knew, but I couldn’t help but be drawn to her light, like a moth to a flame.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, I saw her leave the camp and head into the forest. I followed, my instincts telling me that this was the moment I had been waiting for.

The forest was a labyrinth of shadows and whispers, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves. Kate moved quickly, her footsteps light and sure. I kept my distance, my senses attuned to every sound, every movement.

As we ventured deeper into the woods, the demonic energy grew stronger, a palpable presence that pressed against my skin like a suffocating blanket. I could feel their eyes on us, their hunger growing with each step.

Then, it happened. The forest fell silent, the usual symphony of crickets and night birds replaced by an eerie stillness. Two glowing red eyes pierced the darkness, and a hulking shadow emerged from the trees.

The demon lunged, its claws outstretched, and Kate stumbled backward, falling to the ground. I moved without hesitation, my sword flashing as I intercepted the creature.

The battle was a blur of movement and sound, a desperate struggle for survival. But in the end, the demon was defeated, its body dissolving into a foul-smelling smoke.

I turned to Kate, extending a hand to help her up. “Are you hurt?” I asked, my voice a low rumble in the quiet of the night.

She shook her head, her eyes wide with fear and confusion. There was blood on her face, but as I could tell from the color, it belonged to the demon and not herself. I offered her my hand and pulled her up in one smooth motion.

“My name is Cyrus,” I introduced myself, staring into her deep blue eyes. “And you’re not safe here.”

I could see the disbelief in her eyes as I gave her a rundown of her situation. Her reaction was understandable; it’s not every day that you discover a horde of angry demons is after you for powers you did not know you had. She was holding up surprisingly well for what she had just witnessed, though it could just be a result of the shock.

Her composure did not last for long. I smirked as she ran to the nearest tree, heaving, as I disposed of the demon’s body. I guess she doesn’t like barbecue – she must be a vegetarian.

Kate seemed lost in thought as I guided her through the depths of the woods. Her eyes were distant, her motion nearly robotic as she followed me. I could practically hear the gears turning in her head.

I could sense that the demons were following us the whole time but they did not dare to approach – for now. I rushed her through the forest, keeping my eyes open for any further attacks. The demons silently stalked us in the darkness, always close by, waiting for their chance to strike again.

I brought her to my cabin, a safe haven from the horrors of the night. As I explained the truth about her powers, I watched her closely. She was terrified, but also determined to protect her friends. She’s got guts, I’ll give her that. For a moment I contemplated whether I should offer her some tea or a shot of Pálinka, but opted for the first option in the end.

Something about her—her resilience, her wit, and her undeniable courage—stirred something within me. It was a feeling I hadn’t experienced in a long time, a warmth that threatened to reopen a door inside of me I thought I had closed for good. This could be dangerous, Cyrus. Remember your mission.

“We should get some rest,” I said finally after a long chain of questions to which I already had known the answers, breaking the silence that had spread between us. “Tomorrow will be a long day, and you’ll need your strength.”

Kate nodded, still looking somewhat dazed. I stood and gestured for her to follow me. We walked through the small cabin, the wooden floors creaking under our weight. The main room was cozy, with a large hearth, a wooden table, and several chairs. Shelves lined the walls, filled with books on various subjects—mostly about magic, history, and demon lore.

I opened one of the three doors branching off the main room, revealing a simple bedroom with a single bed, a nightstand, and a small wardrobe. “This will be your room,” I said. “It’s not much, but it’s safe and comfortable.” The other two doors led to my own room and the small but well-protected stone cellar below the main area of the cabin.

Kate stepped inside, glancing around. “Thank you,” she said softly, unusually meek for her previously sharp tongue.

“My room is next door,” I continued, opening the door to the adjacent room. My room was similar to hers, but slightly more cluttered with personal items and weapons. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call for me.”

She nodded again, looking more at ease now that she had a place to rest. I watched her for a moment, making sure she seemed alright before heading back to the main room. As she closed the door, I knew that my life, like hers, had just changed irrevocably.

I banked the fire in the hearth, ensuring it would burn slowly through the night. The soft glow cast long shadows across the room, adding to the rustic charm of the cabin. I stretched and picked up my sword which I had leaned against the table. With a sigh, I stepped back into the night, ready to face the demons that lurked in the shadows. One crisis at a time, Cyrus. One crisis at a time.

The night air was a symphony of rustling leaves and the distant hooting of owls. It was a familiar song, one that usually brought a sense of peace. But tonight, it was a discordant melody, laced with the underlying hum of demonic energy. I could feel their presence lurking just beyond the protective wards that surrounded the cabin.

I tightened my grip on my sword, the cool metal a comforting weight in my hand. The blade, forged by generations of demon hunters, hummed with an energy of its own, eager for the battle to come. I took a deep breath, the scent of pine and damp earth filling my lungs. It was a scent I had come to associate with both danger and duty, a reminder of the path I had chosen.

With a silent prayer to the ancient spirits that guided my ancestors, I stepped out into the night. The darkness enveloped me like a shroud, but my senses were heightened, every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig amplified in the stillness. I moved like a shadow, my footsteps barely disturbing the forest floor.

The demonic energy grew stronger with each step, a palpable presence that prickled my skin and raised the hairs on the back of my neck. I could feel their eyes on me, their hunger a tangible force in the air. A low growl echoed through the trees outside the protective barrier, a guttural sound that sent a shiver down my spine.

I emerged from the cover of the wards, my sword drawn and ready. Three demons stood before me, their eyes glowing with malevolent intent. One was a hulking beast with matted fur and razor-sharp claws, another a grotesque creature with the body of a snake and the head of a boar, and the third a shadowy figure that seemed to flicker in and out of existence.

A grim smile tugged at my lips. “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a party,” I muttered, my voice barely a whisper in the night.

The demons lunged, their movements a blur of claws and fangs. I met their attack with a fierce battle cry, my sword a whirlwind of steel as I parried and countered their strikes. The forest floor became a chaotic dance of shadows and light, the air filled with the sounds of snarls, growls, and the clash of metal against flesh.

I moved with the precision and grace honed through years of training, my body a weapon as deadly as the blade in my hand. I dodged the hulking beast’s swipe, my sword slicing through the air and severing one of its claws. The creature howled in pain, its rage fueling its next attack.

I ducked under the boar-demon’s charge, my blade finding its mark in the soft underbelly. The creature squealed, its body convulsing as it collapsed to the ground.

The shadowy demon proved to be the most elusive, its form flickering and shifting, making it difficult to land a solid blow. But I was patient, waiting for the right moment to strike. As it lunged, I sidestepped and plunged my sword through its chest, the blade piercing its heart with a sickening squelch. The demon let out a final, agonizing wail before dissolving into nothingness.

I stood panting, my sword dripping with demonic ichor. The forest was silent once more, the only sound the crackling of the dying fire where I had disposed of the demon remains. I wiped the sweat from my brow, a grim satisfaction settling over me.

The night was far from over, but for now, the threat had been neutralized. I returned to the cabin, the weight of my duty a familiar burden on my shoulders. As I stepped inside, the warmth of the fire and the soft glow of the lanterns welcomed me back to a semblance of normalcy. But I knew that the darkness was never far away, always lurking just beyond the edge of the light.