The Mystic World

(13)

-Somewhere in the human realm-

It was midnight. And usually the entire world is asleep during this time along with a few exceptions of some whimsical teenagers.

But tonight there were some humans wide awake doing certain jobs that can only be commenced and executed at nightfall as to avoid unwanted attention or interruption.

The underground facility was established and designed for this very buisness. Well.. it's considered as a duty more than a business, but nevertheless the night was awake for some rebellious people.

Machines were operating, men were working diligently, the products were being generated under the watchful gazes of their supervisors as per decided schedule.

The hunters community was at work again. The strong hardworking hunters had orders for forging their weaponry, shields and armours which were uniquely one of a kind. The type of work that usually doesn't commence in the light of the day.

Especially when the weapons are not your conventional ones. The special quality made which can only be proved effective against the supernatural of the Mystic World.

Effective as in dangerously lethal.

The Mystic world. A world that was not supposed to exist. A place who's inhabitants are utterly unnatural, dangerous and unpredictable. Their ways of living can be a great threat to the humans—a fragile creature. The ones who'll always be at the mercy of those abnormals.

The prevention of such threats is what is the duty of a hunter. The elimination of these abnormal parasites is the life purpose of every single member of the hunters community. An incredible risky service they provide for the greater good of the human species.

The place was relatively hot. The heat in the air resembled one of a sauna room. Men were sweating buckets as their advanced machines burned metals which were used in forging their uniquely strong weapons.

The large room wasn't the only place situated underground, but it was definitely where the magic happened. Outside the very manufacturing factory were a bunch of chambers lined about in long corridors. They were, on the other hand, designed for different purposes.

Some were used as storage facilities for their weaponry while others were training rooms, gyms, etc. The remaining were turned into well furnished offices and studios for the hunters. All of it underground, safe from eyes of the unwanted.

In one such particular chamber sat a tall dark 6ft man blessed with broad shoulders, strong gym made muscles and an impressive jawline. Hair grown upto his shoulders, eyes sharp as a hawk and some prominent scars all over his body.

The most horrific scar was located at his neck. The one which is known as the mark of pride for his great escape from inevitable death. The very mark that brings about a deadlier appearance to the man and also reminds everyone of his glorious past.

A legendary man who had immense respect of his people. He who believed in eradication of the problem itself by whatever means necessary. The one who was considered the most smart, courageous and savage of them all. He was, after all, the magnificent leader of the very community.

Silas Rodriguez.

A knock on the door interrupted his work that was sprawled across the table in front of him.

"Come in", He permitted in his deep gruff voice.

The door of the chamber opens to present another hunter who was the right hand of the leader himself. The one man who worshipped his leader more than anyone.

"Tyson", Silas grunts as a greeting.

"I have some good news for you", Tyson smirked.

Silas's eyes went up to look at him. He then abandoned his work for time being and leaned back on his chair looking at his right hand man or friend, if you may, with deep interest. "Really", He said.