Soft snow trickles from the sky.

The rain of white slowly paints the deserted park, coating the swings and slides in a layer of cold.

The ground is as white as the sky is black. The stars are as numerous as the flakes spiraling down from the heavens.

The girl stands up from the carcass on the ground. Her face is as pale as the snow. Her silky fair hair dances around her shoulders, playing with the breeze. Her white gown reaches to her knees, shivering in the cold light.

She wipes the blood from her mouth. A red droplet trickles down her chin and falls onto the ground, staining it. Alone in the white park, the only colour to be seen is the red of her lips and the red of the corpse.

My breath catches in my throat. Despite her monstrous nature, she is beautiful, a princess of the night. I feel the grip on my sword loosen.

She notices me and turns around. Her eyes are also red, like the blood on her lips. They begin to form words.

“Have you come for me?”

***

“Alright everyone, take your positions on the starting line!”

Mr. Croyal, our ironically overweight PE teacher ushers us towards the field.

“That includes you, Bran. Get off your lazy ass and hope you make the time.”

I sigh and stand up from my position on the sidelines. Every year, Fifth Hill High enforces a compulsory fitness test – to run a mile within six minutes. If you fail, you have to undergo a mandatory program after school to get you back in shape. It’s a reasonable test by all means – I’m just not in the mood to run.

“Gonna come last again, Bran?”

Leo shoots me a smirk. Every single year I’ve always barely made the cut, coming in just at five minutes fifty-nine. It’s not that I can’t go faster, I just can’t be bothered.

I wordlessly step up to the starting line, which is now crowded with the thirty-odd people in class 3-C. On the bright side, this’ll be the last time I ever have to do this - unless university decides to implement the same program.

“On your mark…”

The students around me are casually chattering as usual. No one’s ever failed the test before, so their lack of concern is understandable.

“Set…”

I take a deep breath.

“GO!”

The front liners immediately bolt off into the distance. I struggle to emerge from the back, which is crowded by the majority of the class. Something shoves into me from the side, pushing me with such force that I go sprawling into the cold dirt.

I slowly look up, seeing Leo’s grin before he disappears off into the distance. He must have deliberately started from the back to sabotage me, knowing he would easily come first. It wasn’t a race by any means, but some people just have to win.

“Bran! Get up; you’re going to fall behind!”

Dennis extends a hand towards me.

“It’s alright. I’ll make it.”

“Are you sure?”

He’s really concerned. The mile isn’t a problem for Dennis either; so he can afford to try and help me. That’s just the sort of friend he is.

“Yeah. Just go.”

Dennis gives one more worried look before racing off into the distance. The group is nearly a hundred metres away, and people have begun to drift apart according to their physical abilities. Despite his start Leo is already at the forefront, nearly a whole lap completed.

“Come on, Bran. Don’t be the first one to fail this course, you’ll make me look bad,” Croyal growls from the sidelines.

I guess it can’t be helped.

I pull myself up to my feet and take off. My back foot sinks a little in the dirt from the force of my kick-off.

The ground begins to blur into a mix of white snow and brown dirt as I pick up speed. Without even realizing it, the adrenaline has begun to kick in.

Ah, to hell with it. It’s my last year, anyway.

I feel my heart pumping in my veins, providing a constant source of blood to my limbs as the distance between me and the group up ahead lessens. Within seconds, I’ve passed them. I hear a few shouts of surprise, but they’re lost in the roar of the wind.

One lap down. I’ve successfully caught up to the pack – there’s no way I’ll fail now.

But that’s not my goal.

I continue to run, my feet moving like a blur across the field. There are three more laps to go, and I’ve nearly halved the distance between Leo and I. Leo is an experienced athlete, probably the best in the school – but he’s only ever run to win races. That’s where the difference between us lies.

I’ve run to escape death, and to seek it.

The field curves away from me as I round the bend to the final lap. I’ve caught up to him now, and he shoots me a look of surprise out of the corner of his eye. Both of us are breathing hard, our bodies reaching their limits. If I’d started at the same time as him, I would have easily overtaken him.

“How…?” he gasps between breaths.

I ignore him and focus on my breathing. The rhythmic thump of our legs striking the ground echoes in my ears. The pounding of my heart blocks out all sounds from the outside world.

Before I know it, I’ve passed the finish line, several metres ahead of Leo. We both collapse onto the ground, sucking in air as if our lives depend on it. I see small black spots dancing around my vision.

“F-Four minutes thirty seconds,” Croyal breathes. “No way…”

It wasn’t surprising for Leo – but I had started at least fifteen seconds behind everyone else. The current world record for something like this was about three minutes forty, and for mere high school students even breaking four minutes forty was a feat in itself.

Of course, I could have gone a lot faster if I borrowed Nightfall’s power, but then that would be cheating.

“Why aren’t you in the track team?” Croyal mutters. “With you, we’d probably be able to reach the nationals without a problem.”

I shrug. Sports never interested me that much – in fact, nothing really did.

Leo is still panting, although he’s regained some of his posture. He wordlessly stands up and hobbles back to the outskirts of the field, picking up his bottle of water. I head after him, just as the next batch of runners begin finishing up.

***

“Amazing,” Dennis says. “I never would have thought you were so good at running.”

We’re at our lockers, changing shoes before we go home. Around us, students are eagerly discussing plans for the afternoon, the weekend, or club activities. I’m not part of any clubs, so I usually just go straight home.

“I run a little every so often,” I say. Which isn’t a complete lie.

I finish slipping on my sneakers. Dennis gives me a look full of admiration. “Are you sure you don’t want to try out track? We really could do with someone like you.”

I shake my head. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ll pass. I’m really tired, I just want to go home and get some shut-eye.”

“You’re always tired. And hungry, too.”

“Well, I am a growing boy after all.”

Dennis smiles and waves. “Alright then. Guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yep. Later.”

***

As usual, Mum isn’t home. She’s probably going to be working another late night shift at the hospital – it’s been like this ever since Dad was killed, for no other reason than bad luck. The world can be a cruel place – one simple action, like a truck driver falling asleep on the wheel can ruin a family’s life forever.

“I’m home,” I call out, as I take off my shoes. Tossing my bag to the side, I immediately collapse onto the floor and close my eyes.

It’s not long before I hear the sound of footsteps approaching. Something tickles my face; something that smells and feels familiar. I open one eye to find my little sister staring at me.

“Hungry?” she asks. I push her veil of black hair away from my face and sit up.

“Yeah. Very.”

“I cooked something for you. You’re working again tonight, aren’t you?”

I nod, following Judith into the kitchen.

“You really shouldn’t push yourself too much. It makes me feel terrible seeing both you and Mum like this.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I brush her off. “I’m just helping her lighten the load, that’s all.”

Judith places a plate of rice and boiled vegetables before me.

“Oh come on. Where’s the meat?” I grumble.

“Please, Bran. You eat enough of that for breakfast and lunch. You need some greens to stay healthy.”

I grumpily dig at the carrot slices. Vegetables aren’t at the top of my list of favorite foods – then again, that probably goes for most people my age.

Except Judith – but that’s because she only has vegetables on her list.

“Come on, eat up,” she said. “Carrots help your night vision, you know.”

I stick a piece in my mouth and immediately wash it down with plenty of rice and water.

“How do you stand this?” I ask. “It tastes terrible.”

“The things that taste worst are usually the best for you.”

“They’re sometimes the worst too.”

I continue to munch on the food. Judith just watches me from across the table.

“Aren’t you going to have some?” I offer a spoonful of the dreaded substance.

“I’m not hungry yet. I have a normal sleeping cycle, unlike you.”

Fair enough.

“So how was your day?” I ask, attempting to make conversation.

“Good.”

She’s looking at her phone screen, scrolling down her notifications. I guess she’s not in the mood to talk.

Ah well. At least I tried.

“Thanks for the meal,” I say, shoveling the rest of the meal down my throat. “Appreciate it.”

“Sleep well, bro.”

And just like that, the day passes.

***

Sometime during the night, my alarm blares to life. I quickly stop it before I wake anyone up, and get dressed.

It’s exactly midnight – when my day begins.

I quietly head out into the dark living room, slipping on a warm winter jacket. It’s been snowing a lot recently, unfortunately for me. It’s incredibly hard to move with speed and agility on snow, especially when your feet sink with each step.

Judith is sprawled over the table, sleeping. Her textbooks and stationery are scattered around her – she must have been studying late into the night again.

“And you tell us to take it easy,” I murmur with a smile.

I take the coat from the back of her seat and gently drape it around her shoulders. The door to Mum’s room is still open, so she probably hasn’t returned yet. Taking one last look around the house, I make sure all the windows are locked, the taps closed and the stoves turned off before I leave.

The cold winter air hits me like a truck when I step outside. I only ever feel truly active at night – ironically enough, when my prey are also at their most active. Specks of white are lightly drifting down from the grey skies, covering the earth in a fresh layer of snow. I catch a flake on my tongue. It tastes sweet.

The neighborhood is quiet, as it should be at this time of the night. The streets are deserted, a frozen landscape of unmoving white. I slowly trudge through the snow towards the city, beginning my patrol.

We humans are not alone in this world. The very fact that people dismiss them as myths just shows how cunning and intelligent they are.

Vampires, werewolves, trolls, imps, goblins, gnomes… these monsters existed in real life and still exist now. They’ve just learned to conceal traces of their passing and live alongside us. Together, they are grouped under the umbrella term ‘demons’.

And I am a demon hunter.

I can already smell blood when I reach the city. Something has been on the hunt tonight. In fact, it’s been hunting for several days now.

Following my instincts, I stride into one of the numerous back alleys around Ashbrook. The stench grows stronger, permeating through the air and invading my senses. I wrap my jacket closer around me to ward from the cold and forge onward.

Upon turning the corner, I see them.

There are five of them – a pack no doubt. They are small beings, hunched over a carcass in the darkness. Small horns protrude from their scaly skin, and their lips are coated with blood. In the day, they would most likely take the form of young children. In the night, they would come out to feed.

The imps raise their heads towards me. I immediately know that they weren’t the ones who killed this person. Imps are scavengers, like vultures, and only eat leftovers. However when they feel threatened, they won’t hesitate to attack – especially when they have the advantage in numbers.

They must think I’m just an ordinary boy.

The lead imp makes the decision, removing itself from the mutilated corpse. Bits and pieces of flesh still line its lips as it snarls quietly. I face them head on in the lightless alleyway.

“Come to me, Nightfall,” I whisper.

I feel a tugging at my conscious as my Divine Edge flares to life in my right hand. This is the meaning of what it is to be a demon hunter. This is the power we possess, which allows us to fight, and become the hunters.

The black blade is cool to the touch. A black, misty aura surrounds it, singing of death and darkness. I feel its power coursing through me, a familiar presence in my body. It is a manifestation of my soul after all.

The imps seem taken aback by the summoning of Nightfall, but it’s too late for them to retreat. As one, the five shapes come flying towards me, fangs bared.

I take one step forward. I’ve fought countless demons, and these imps are small fry compared to what I’ve seen. Bringing Nightfall around I cleave effortlessly through the first one, twist to dodge the next two, and slam the pommel into the fourth one. The fifth imp manages to rake its claws across my cheek, but doesn’t do anything more than that.

Feeling the cold air biting in my wound, I lunge forward and stab into that imp’s head. Wrenching it out, I then whirl around to avoid two swipes before decapitating their owners in one swing. Heads fall onto the ground, landing in a bloody heap.

Only one imp remains, the one which I’d stunned with the pommel of my hilt. Fear lines its scaly face as it turns to flee, but I catch up to it in three quick strides and impale it.

The falling snow is already beginning to bury the dead bodies, but the red leaking from them won’t be hidden that easily. Wiping the blood from my cheek, I head over to where the dead body is.

It’s a man. His body has been torn apart, and I can see his lifeless innards inside his torso. Bits and pieces have been ripped out, no doubt by the imps, but I can tell that the majority of the damage was caused before they arrived. It looks to be the same work as the other murders – the telltale shredding of the torso tells me that much. The man is also missing a surprising amount of blood.

Nightfall shimmers and dissipates as I unsummon it. Turning back to the five imp corpses, I snap a photo with my smartphone before punching a number in. The tone rings for a bit before someone answers.

“I’ve got a mess that needs cleaning up,” I say. “Better hurry up, before anyone else comes.”