Cryptotrappers!

Cryptotrappers- Fear of the Banshee

Friday 13. Of course it's Friday the thirteenth. What other day would I want it to be when I'm hunting down a creature that could probably tear me limb from limb, with no real plan and lives on the line? The sun was already risen and warming my sheets through the translucent lavender curtains when I woke from my rest. Considering Eva's insistence that we rise with the sun yesterday, I had hoped that my lie-in was due to her mellowing, or maybe even reconsidering in the night. But as I dressed and left the room to find the rest of the team already packed and prepared for combat, those hopes were quickly extinguished.
"Good morning, Exo." Eva began, polite but without her usual lust for life present. "I hope you're feeling rested, recovered, and ready to head out."
"Eva, are you sure this is a good idea?" I asked, earnestly as I could. Shaking her head gently, she let out an exhalation of breath.
"Honestly, I'm not. But this is the only way to make something out of a no-win situation. If the Banshee kills again, if Lachlan gets hurt and I didn't do anything in the moment to save him... attacking now is all we can do."
The furthest door in the hallway opened slowly, as the young occupant slowly left his room and approached the team.
"I'm coming along."
"Lachlan, I don't think that's a good idea-" Eva began gently, before he cut her off.
"All those missions you used to tell my mother about, I want to finally be a part of one of them. Besides, what's the alternative? I stay here and hope the Banshee just doesn't show up? Plus if I'm with you, and if it comes looking for me, at least you'll be there."

The woods around the area weren't too dense, but I had no doubt that any number of things could hide in it. Our team would move as a legion, with Lachlan joining us in the centre and the rest of us around him in a circle of 4. It's a proven defensive method, the more armed individuals making a defensive circle around the ones that need protecting. In the distance, we heard a clear Banshee scream, not the wailing cry, almost a scream of agony. We rushed over to find the object of our unhealthy obsession. The Banshee itself, crouching on the ground, arm torn by large claws.
"What the hell did that!" Sid muttered worriedly. A growl echoed behind him almost in a response to his question. He slowly turned around to see those glowing white eyes, staring at him from a huge, dark figure. It appears we'd found our true killer after all...

Soft paw pads the size of a human hand stepped on the forest floor. Sable fur covered the muscular legs and paws down to the claws, each around an inch long and sharp as a screw. The legs held up a doglike body, tall enough to be eye level with me. From foreleg to shoulder I'd estimate it to be around four and a half foot, with the head giving it about an extra foot to the total height. It's fangs looked like those of a werewolf, and yet this thing scared me so much more than Chris had done. Those torch-like eyes bore into my soul, paralysing my feet to the floor. Everything moved in dream time, and every instinct to move my legs ended in no more than a twitch. Its tail looked strong enough to snap a sapling in two in a single swipe. It bared it's mouth of razors at me, hot hellish breath expelling in my face and stinging my eyes. A flash of grey struck the side of the hound, and I turned quickly to see that Sid had thrown a sizeable rock at the side of the black apparition, and was now reloading his rifle to tranquillise. The dark hound turned quicker than I would have expected and tore off into the night. I stood, panting for a moment whilst I recovered from the fear, until I heard Lachlan's calling behind me.
"Hey, can I get some help over here?" he called out to us. We turned to find him trying his best to support the Banshee up. Randy approached too and together they hoisted the fae woman onto their shoulders, and began hoisting her in the direction of Lachlan's house.

By the time we were safe and back midnight had struck. Friday 13. Of course it's Friday 13, and what was I doing? Applying a bandage to a Banshee. Classic. She was a fairly strange sight. Her dark grey hair surrounded her head like some biziarre mane, curling forward and shrouding her shoulders. She wore a sort of cloth shirt over her body, which was gaunt and starved looking. Her teeth looked sharpened, her nose was beaklike and her eyes were a deep horizon orange, like those of a barn owl. Her hands ended in long fingers with a pointed, blackened, claw like nail that looks like it could tear through neck flesh easily. I felt far less scared of her than I did of the hound as I bandaged her arm up, gently and carefully as to not hurt her any further. She let out a sort of pitiful chirp as I brushed down her wild hair and calmed her.