03-15-2016, 12:09 PM
The bill for the Jeep had been horrendous thankfully the Atharim would pay for it. At least they would now. The perks of actually flying high on their radar of hunters. It meant they would know Nox was back in the States but he figured they wouldn't care, the Old World Atharim weren't exactly found of the New World hunters - all fly by the pants and all. But it was what it was and Nox paid the bill, the Jeep sounded rough.
There was a cache nearby so that was his first stop that and sleep. His body ached from the strain of the fear on the plane. Nox had survived it alone, but he was sure that the people sitting next to him thought he was some sort of freak or mentally handicapped or something. And Nox actually let them believe that; playing dumb was easy - people underestimated him that way.
The storage facility manager looked at Nox warily but nodded as he drove through the gates to the storage locker. To the manager it was just an empty bin, we kept only a few things in each place mostly weapons. Nox's father had been a gun collector, at least that's what he told anyone who'd ask. There was nothing special or black market about the gear, just was a lot of it. They were survivalist to most hoarding water and non-perishables. Waiting for the zombie apocalypse to come. No such things but hey it was a gimmick that people believed. Sure some people thought they were crazy to them but it was believable. It sounded better than they hunted monsters for a living. No one would believe that at all.
Nox packed the small footlocker in the back of the Jeep and headed towards a cheap motel he knew of. It was not the place he would have stayed with his family but at least it wasn't riddled with bedbugs, or the like. He had certain standards now and he knew the Atharim would pay him what he was worth as long as he kept bringing in the monsters.
Sadly the place was a lot worse off than when Nox and his family had traveled through last and Nox went to the next place on his list. He hadn't been there in a long while. Nox stared at the parking spot they had been in, there was no sign of trauma here, the blood stain had been washed away by years of weather. But Nox could still see the pool of blood lying underneath where his mother had lain brutally slashed and torn apart.
He'd forgotten this was the last place they'd been until he'd seen it.
Time passed and Nox wasn't sure what time it was he didn't even check his wallet just went in, got a room. It wasn't a surprise when he got the same room as they'd stayed in. The room smelled the same as he remembered and what little food survived in Nox stomach wound up in the garbage can next to the door only adding to the putrid aroma of stale smoke and cleaning supplies.
Nox left the door open as he carried the locker inside the room. He wanted to check how things had survived and knew that he'd end up in tears by the end of it but it was to be done. Nostalgia was a killer and Nox fought to keep his memories inside instead of letting the fire that boiled inside of him. The power hummed and sang at the edge of his vision and he knew better than to grab it to heed it's wondrous call.
Instead Nox laid down on the bed and tried to drift to sleep, but memories flood his mind and tears fell as he hugged the pillow tightly against him. Coming here had been a bad idea. But sleep finally came and Nox drifted in blackness.
****
The darkness was never a good thing. It meant only one thing - nightmares. There was nothing but stillness tonight. And then the memories flooded in. All the happy memories mingled with all the tragedy and death Nox and seen. Images that couldn't be real - hadn't been real. Fear lanced through the nightmare and the large black dogs with glowing eyes appeared over the ridge - a ridge Nox hadn't remembered being there before. One, then another and then a third. All stalking in the dead of the night. They split off from each other and Nox lost sight of two of them. It could be only one thing - dark-hounds. The image of his mother's mutilated body flashed in front of him and the hound howled leaving shivers down his spine. Nox was frozen in fear as the darkness stalked him.
There was a cache nearby so that was his first stop that and sleep. His body ached from the strain of the fear on the plane. Nox had survived it alone, but he was sure that the people sitting next to him thought he was some sort of freak or mentally handicapped or something. And Nox actually let them believe that; playing dumb was easy - people underestimated him that way.
The storage facility manager looked at Nox warily but nodded as he drove through the gates to the storage locker. To the manager it was just an empty bin, we kept only a few things in each place mostly weapons. Nox's father had been a gun collector, at least that's what he told anyone who'd ask. There was nothing special or black market about the gear, just was a lot of it. They were survivalist to most hoarding water and non-perishables. Waiting for the zombie apocalypse to come. No such things but hey it was a gimmick that people believed. Sure some people thought they were crazy to them but it was believable. It sounded better than they hunted monsters for a living. No one would believe that at all.
Nox packed the small footlocker in the back of the Jeep and headed towards a cheap motel he knew of. It was not the place he would have stayed with his family but at least it wasn't riddled with bedbugs, or the like. He had certain standards now and he knew the Atharim would pay him what he was worth as long as he kept bringing in the monsters.
Sadly the place was a lot worse off than when Nox and his family had traveled through last and Nox went to the next place on his list. He hadn't been there in a long while. Nox stared at the parking spot they had been in, there was no sign of trauma here, the blood stain had been washed away by years of weather. But Nox could still see the pool of blood lying underneath where his mother had lain brutally slashed and torn apart.
He'd forgotten this was the last place they'd been until he'd seen it.
Time passed and Nox wasn't sure what time it was he didn't even check his wallet just went in, got a room. It wasn't a surprise when he got the same room as they'd stayed in. The room smelled the same as he remembered and what little food survived in Nox stomach wound up in the garbage can next to the door only adding to the putrid aroma of stale smoke and cleaning supplies.
Nox left the door open as he carried the locker inside the room. He wanted to check how things had survived and knew that he'd end up in tears by the end of it but it was to be done. Nostalgia was a killer and Nox fought to keep his memories inside instead of letting the fire that boiled inside of him. The power hummed and sang at the edge of his vision and he knew better than to grab it to heed it's wondrous call.
Instead Nox laid down on the bed and tried to drift to sleep, but memories flood his mind and tears fell as he hugged the pillow tightly against him. Coming here had been a bad idea. But sleep finally came and Nox drifted in blackness.
****
The darkness was never a good thing. It meant only one thing - nightmares. There was nothing but stillness tonight. And then the memories flooded in. All the happy memories mingled with all the tragedy and death Nox and seen. Images that couldn't be real - hadn't been real. Fear lanced through the nightmare and the large black dogs with glowing eyes appeared over the ridge - a ridge Nox hadn't remembered being there before. One, then another and then a third. All stalking in the dead of the night. They split off from each other and Nox lost sight of two of them. It could be only one thing - dark-hounds. The image of his mother's mutilated body flashed in front of him and the hound howled leaving shivers down his spine. Nox was frozen in fear as the darkness stalked him.
![[Image: nox_sig.gif]](http://thefirstage.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/08/nox_sig.gif)