Bone and Feather

Bone and Feather -5- {Hunters}

When his heavy lids rose, he felt the all too familiar bite of rope around his wrists. For a moment, he believed he was still in the filthy bottom of his cage at the circus. But as he lifted his eyes, he saw the curious tangle of branches against a syrupy orange sky. He was still in the forest, he realized, though it was not the dark hour. 

He sat up all too quickly, experiencing an explosion of pain in the back of his head that tore through his foggy mind, forcing him to remember. His eyes darted across the scene that unraveled in front of him. It was a small clearing in midst of the wall of trees; a makeshift fire pit in the center where embers still smoldered, a dented pot along with a few other rugged eating utensils, three somber black horses and most curiously, a pile of foreign tools gathered underneath a worn woolen blanket. Whoever these folk were, they had left Elijah alone and expertly bound with rope.

His wings ached, as they always did, but it seemed the strange people had bound them tightly as well. As if they were afraid he would somehow be able to lift himself into the sky and soar away over the trees. It was a ridiculous thought, but as soon as it crossed his mind, he found it hard to cast away. For what was the point of having wings if one couldn't use them?

His fingers were pale, tingling from the lack of blood the ropes had cut off. He needed to free himself, he decided, for the people were bound to filter back into this clearing.  His eyes scraped across the terrain that surrounded him, looking for something he could use to free himself. But to his severe disappointment, there was no sharp-edged stones and being bound to the trunk of a tree provided no further help.  Perhaps it was fate mocking him, for once again he was bound to a stake, though this time he was not sure that death was waiting.

Soon voices rose from the cavern of trees, creeping closer to him. His body still as death with fear, watching the crevices between the trees, for the bodies attached to the voices. They emerged from the trees and into the dusky morning light; two men and two women. They looked nothing more than common vagabonds, though vagabonds weren't known for traveling in groups and none had such sharp, pointed looks as these folk. 

Cora's winter gray eyes, shadowed from lack of sleep, appeared over one of the vagabond's shoulders. Their eyes locked for a moment before Cora glanced away, looking towards the tallest young man who held the aura of leadership. His deep set eyes, flickered towards one of the women, who wore her dark hair pinned away from her own deep set eyes, and instantly strode towards the wooden bundle of strange artifacts, pulling the sheen of wool off and beginning to dig through a pile of wooden stakes, crucifixes and silver blades. They were weapons, Elijah realized with a slow dry gasp, watching as she pulled one of each out before covering it once more. 

The woman held out the assortments of weapons in her arms towards the man and his eyes grazed over them slowly.

"Take out the stake, Diana. If he was one of them, the morning light would've already finished him."He said, eyes then flickering towards Elijah, grasping the bottom of the crucifix in his hands. He neared him, his face still possessed the smoothness of youth but his eyes drowned in the knowledge of dark things. The other man, with drab red locks crept close as well, taking a polished knife from his belt.  In an arching motion, he slashed the ropes away from Elijah's hands and broke the one that wound around his torso that once attached him to the tree like an umbilical cord of a child to it's mother. 

Without the ropes to suffocate Elijah's veins, blood rushed through his limbs so rapidly, his vision went cloudy and when it cleared, the two men were closer, the women watching from a further distance with curiosity ablaze in their eyes.

"You certainly are the most curious creature I've come across,"he peered at Elijah's nearly black iris's, "Do you know shadowed eyes are a sign of the devil?"

The taller woman with glorious locks the color of fresh straw drew near, taking up one of Elijah's wings in her hands, examining it carefully before meeting his eyes with a curved grin.

"One with wings like these is not meant to walk the earth," she then turned to the man, "Try it Dorian,"

Before Elijah could understand, the redheaded man held Elijah still in an iron grip as Dorian, pressed the bronze metal of the cross into Elijah's prominent collarbone. The four of them now hovered close, eyes trained on the cross and Elijah's skin and breath's held as if they were expecting something to happen. When nothing did, Dorian pulled the crucifix away and tried another patch of skin on Elijah's forearm.

"It's not affecting him," the dark haired woman scowled, "at least try the silver," she said, handing Dorian the blade. But when he pressed the dull side of the knife to Elijah's skin, still nothing happened. 

Frustrated, Dorian casted away the crucifix and the silver knife into the dirt and looked at Elijah with stormy dark eyes. He was that sort of man who believed he was never wrong. 

"He's not one of the undead or loup-garou for certain," the light haired woman said, picking the items off the earth, "Perhaps he's one of the fallen,"

"The fallen, Loretta?" Dorian scoffed, "I've never seen the fallen walk this earth with the face of a boy, much less these pitiful wings, they aren't the type to attract attention to themselves,"

Loretta shrugged, "Perhaps he is an exception. Or the offspring of one?"

"Bring the girl over, Delia,"he told the dark haired woman, ignoring Loretta.

When the woman, Delia, brought Cora over, Dorian focused his attention onto her. 

"I need you to tell me, girl, where you encountered this creature," his voice possessed the darkness of authority that made one want to succumb to him.

Cora looked at Elijah and he watched as her eyes narrowed in thought. He knew she was torn for if she told these people where she had found him, they might take her back to that place. That place where she was condemned. But he watched as she met Dorian's terrifying glare, noticing the way his fingers danced around the hilt of his dagger.

"The circus," she said quickly, relaxing as Dorian's fingers stopped hovering around the weapon.

"Can you take us there?" Loretta cut in, attaching her hand to her narrow hips in an intimidating stance. 

"No,"whispered Cora, "I'm afraid I cannot,"

"And why not?" Dorian cocked one his heavy brows, nostrils beginning to flare with a rising temper.

"I'm sorry. I have no explanation,"

Dorian leaned back, crossing his thick arms across his chest, "Then perhaps, you'll be willing to explain what you were doing in this forest with him in the bewitching hour when you supposedly encountered him in some sort of circus? Do you have a secret you're not telling us?"

Elijah watched as Cora's eyes wildly passed over all four of the strange men and women, her jaw rapidly wrenching open and clamping shut, like one of a puppet's. Her shoulders were tense with fear and suddenly she seemed three shades whiter. Sweat began to dribble out over her forehead as Loretta leaned close.

"Be warned girl. You do not want to find yourself on the opposing side of the Hunters." 

Now, Cora's fingers began to shake violently, before quick tremors began to consume her whole. She screamed in terror before she collapsed on the ground, eyes rolling back in her head.

"She's possessed!"Delia cried and she, Loretta and the redheaded man looked towards Dorian at once. He nodded and then drew his knife.

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This chapter took forever, but I hope you guys like it. 

One of the main points in this story is to point out how people many, many years ago were terrified of things beyond their understanding.  Certain disorders and other such things were not exactly looked at in a scientifical way. 

Sorry for the really dark elements. It honestly creeps even me out at times. But I'm hoping to shed some light on it in the future.  :P

-Laurpog