Chapter 0 - The Hunter

How long was it since the face that once was, that had stared back in this reflection, had changed?

Drip.

Value. Integral. Time.

There was a measurement of this time. An answer. The time it took for the snow to come. Winter. Where snow would leave, the plants would grow colourful, vibrant colours taking ahold of the metal towers and stone blocks. Spring. 

Then the bright circle in the sky, the sun would scorch the earth. Bringing with it gas that would pour water, and light would bloom across the sky. Summer.

The bright, colourful plants would turn brown, leaving the large sticks that would grow from the dirt to become bare. Leaves would cover the territories. Autumn. Only for the snow to come. 

It was a cycle. Time. The word, what was the word?

Drip. Drip.

Year. Ten of those years. Such a long time since the face that once was, the one that would have stared back in the mirror. The long sleep marked the first days of those years, and it had changed them. Changes that made them idiots. Yet the worthy grew stronger, the weak stayed mindless, pointlessly violent, fat. Dead. Once, all were mindless, but time, years, had changed them. The awakening changed all of them. If they were not changed, they were to be eaten.

Beaten. Used. Abused.

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.

Infected. That’s what the flesh called us. Those that were not infected. Not worthy of infected. The flesh would use their weapons. Like the pack, they were formidable when together. But separated? They were easy pickings. 

Was I one of the flesh once? I may have been one of them, perhaps even with another name. But I was simply known as Blue.

Drip.

I felt the desire to sleep, but I should not. Admit to weakness is not an option. Must focus. Must keep thinking. To think is to exist. Think of food. The flesh. The ones that call themselves ‘survivors’.

Loud. Hate. Beg.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The flesh would tear free of the long-tongue, to run from the wrathful one, to sneak by the Witch. Dodge past all the other worthy ones. But never could run from the pack. We would chase, and wait for them to exhaust themselves. We would not strike immediately. Our screams would allow them to know of our presence, to fear us. They would run, grow tired. Grow afraid. Then we would feast.

Chew. Tear. Slice.

It had been a long time since the last of the fresh were seen. There have been no sounds of their weapons. Then, the worthy had awoken from the long sleep. The awakening. This one… I had grown to understand. As did others. Understanding brought intelligence. There was another word. A word for the pack that had formed. 
Born of respect, where the strongest would make the decisions. Society. We became sociable, no longer the lone predators of the flesh.

Drip. 

This face could only see itself within this reflection. In this cold, white room. A mirror. Yes. This one would sit and stare at this mirror until strength returned. The pack does not wait for stragglers. To return after the wrathful one came, would be strange. But all things were strange. Perhaps they would come back. If I were to come back on my own, then that would show the pack that I had greater strength, than first thought.

Endurance. Honour. Pride.

Shoulders sagged, muscles relaxed and eyes focused on the white floor. Not white. Crimson. Stained with this one’s… my blood. Hunger panged through the body. But exhaustion came in waves.

No. Must stay awake. Recall what was seen. 
||

The flesh would give us names. Identify the awakened easier. Hunters. A fitting name. Given to us, out of fear, for we would stalk. Wait. Strike with efficiency. No matter how powerful the flesh would be with their weapons, a pack of ten would succeed in ripping them to shreds. 

Chase. Leap. Patience.

Hunters. The hunters of the flesh, the predator of the predator. He who eats the flesh of those that once stood the tallest. Alone, a Hunter was weak. But when the hunters became one as a pack? 

What hope did they have?

They had long since vanished. Eight years. A part of this one remembered being in a large room eight years ago, seeing these words and their definitions. They would not come easily. 

The pack leader, who was simply called Leader, had his position because of his tactical mind. The decisions he made had furthered our pack into power. His tactical prowess had destroyed other packs, assimilating their members and kept control of areas. 

The pack here was not the whole pack, rather, other smaller packs were kept at the borders to ensure no other Hunters would take supplies or were to inform Leader when other packs wished to join. His role was also decided by fair combat against other strong Hunters, those who wished to take the name Leader.

All Hunter names are owned, but they can also be taken. Some names are worth nothing, some names are the same as others. I fall under both categories, I was known as Blue.

Simple. Easy. Common.

The pack had taken a small break. They had moved for three… three hours. Yes. The numbers on the time tracker had not faltered. I could read this ‘time’. They had awoken at the number six-zero-zero. It was now nine-zero-five. This one… No.

I was the weakest of the pack, yet one of the most valued. Short and thin, yet the most intelligent. Leader would often gesture for clarity, greater understanding. Words would come before in flashes; their meanings came slower. Leader would often understand when I talked, but the words that came from the mouth were garbled. I couldn’t formulate the words easily; the teeth would desire to clamp onto something. 

Chew. Tear. Slice. 

It was unnatural. But Leader saw value in my understanding, and through his acceptance we became the largest pack in what was one known as Thecity. We couldn’t remember what it was called. The flesh would call it Thecity; that would have to do. 

I used to practice a technique called ‘drawing’ and could make use of identifying areas and pathways. The shortest routes from the beginning to the destination. The memories came in flashes, scents and imagery, what could be heard and felt when the desire of recollection came.

Leaves. Falling. Heat.

My knowledge, the flashes of words and understanding, was a great asset that Leader was quick to use for the pack’s wellbeing. Several stores of food were kept; my understanding of ‘cooking’ came in use when we needed to use the basic for meals.  

The basic were like the flesh only in look. Their behaviour was sluggish and violent. The grubs and flies were not desirable to devour. Burning them out, eating the basic sustained us in the absence of the flesh.

Leader made a short, guttural noise. A call for this one… for me to show when their break was over. I made my way over to him, showing him the numbers on the watch. 

Value. Integral. Time.

“Twenty… Four.” 

The words were hard to say. Easier to think. But Leader nodded, showing some understanding. He could sometimes grow impatient. This day was decided several days ago. The pack was to relocate in a more stable tower after gathering any supplies, where the flames had not torn down the walls. 

It was a clever location, the centre of the territory, surrounded by the basic. Leader crouched over the ledge, his clothes blood-stained. Varying shades of green splotched over his long sleeve, buttoned shirt and pants. His clothing that was not too dissimilar of the toughest of the flesh. Something called soldiers. Perhaps he was one of those soldiers. Memory and knowledge had served me, but his strength and tact served him. He proved himself worthy to be Leader.

Fierce. Loyal. Control.

I had walked over to my seat, a small distance away from Leader as I looked over the fifty pack members. All were silent, some crawled near one another and embraced each other. Some slept silently away from the pack. Four of them watched the hallway entries; not all hunter packs were friendly to one another. The younger members, those that had recently joined, had decided to do what they could to help. They allocated supplies and carried the heavier loads. Thus were their attempts to prove their strengths and worth.

There were times where Hunters would fail. They usually could pick themselves up, but in cases where they grew fat, or their muscles diminished and failed. Even when the elder Hunters would begin to lose themselves. They would be known as ‘Incorrected’. Then killed as mercifully as possible. 
The older members would care for the younglings. 

Yes. I remember viewing the actions between two of the flesh engaging in some sort of ritual. I attempted to re-enact this with two pack members, to get them to perform the ritual as I observed. The experience was hard to explain, without the ability to formulate the words easily. Their inability to understand the words was also difficult. The other hunters were confused at the time. But I succeeded.

The Male, Bumble, who wore a yellow hoodie with black shorts was quick to understand when certain reactions occurred on his lower body. 

The Female, Rose, who wore red jumper, red beanie and crimson pants, accepted what Bumble was beginning to do. In turn, they both started to be with one another more. As if something beyond their control was having them be together happily. 

Pleasure. Passion. Purity.

As it turns out, they engaged the ritual several times. But Rose began to show signs of change. She grew irritated more easily, exhausted more often. It became harder for her to contain the food she ate, usually regurgitating it in the morning. She grew, as if becoming one of the Obese, even vomiting like them. But the smell was different. 

The pack had grown concerned, one of the founding members of the pack was displaying signs of incorrection. I waited, and observed. When her body seemed to refuse to swell anymore, something astonishing happened. 

A new member of the pack was born. 

Weak. Pathetic. Treasured.

It was as if something had sparked within the pack. There was a desire to look after this child. A desire to have more children. At first it wasn’t wary of its surroundings at all. It had no claws, no teeth. We thought it to be a member of the flesh, but the pack were not quick to act. Not without Leaders approval, nor without my recommendation. 

It fed on some sort of substance Rose released from her breasts. We only figured this out after it had gone for them implicitly. It seemed as if its survival instincts had already developed. He had already developed the instinct to feed, emitting a strange cry when it wanted to drink. 
His safety instincts, however,  were something that needed to be worked on.

The little thing didn't know buildings were bad to fall off.

Two winters had passed and it had grown sharp teeth and claws, and managed its first jump. A fine three metres upwards, and it seemed to land perfectly fine, as if it were observing other hunters and recreating Bumble and Rose’s moves. This was a hunter, pure and born not from the flesh’s ‘infection’, but the loins of a new species. It ate meat like we would, and found joy in chasing the rats and swatting them around, giggling all the while. The child was male, and being the first to be born of the pack we know him as Genesis. 

Beginning. Inception. Love.

The roles of the older Hunters, those who came from the first winter of the long sleep, they had some instinct to look after the younglings. Leader had prevented the pack from having more than two children a year. Not until they had sustained a reasonable amount of food, and ensured a safe location. That was why the pack moved carefully. 

Thecity was still a dangerous place, with various explosion making metals scattered around. Designed by the flesh to kill anything, but were long since abandoned. Traps, as they were called by the flesh.

Leader made the same noise as before, perhaps growing impatient. But he understood the desire for others to have rest. Carrying supplies that were found was not an easy task for a single hunter. Spread across twenty of them made it easier, but there were still limits to their ability.

Value. Integral. Time.

“Ten.”

He nodded and stood from his ledge. My seat had grown uncomfortable, a desire to move came. Leader made his way down to the rest of the pack, motioning them to get ready. 

I found a small piece of wood, small numbers written along the length. A ruler in centimetres? Leader patted my back as he walked past. He liked to leave on the dot. He preferred to be punctual. 
||

The feet had feeling in them again. This one… I could move to the cabinet, find something to stop the bleeding. I unzipped my hood, carefully removing it from my body. A large shard of glass was still embedded in my arm. It was deep, but not deep enough to pierce bone. 
There was no undershirt beneath the hood. The heat was uncomfortable with too much clothing. Though, that must be where the dripping came from. But blood loss wouldn’t be why it was hard to stay awake. Moving closer to the mirror, a large purple and black mark lay on the right side of my forehead. This must be a… concussion?

Pain. Throb. Pressure. 

I needed a distraction.

I looked over at the sink, signs of water being used recently. I liked water. Being clean was good. Some part of me still recognized pride, even engaging in showers to clean the body, much to the packs confusion. Muscles, toned and exposed from the long sleep and constant movement. The cabinet held a small red, square shaped bag. 

Strange for one to still be left after so long. 

Bandages, ‘adrenaline shots’ and other unfamiliar objects lay within. It wasn’t the worst injury I had suffered. I was nearly killed in a time where food was scarce, and an explosive trap snapped my shin bone. The pain was immeasurable. Not being able to move or leap made it worse. This injury wasn’t nearly as bad, but the possibility of infection was there. 

Of course, I was already ‘infected’ with something else. Still, better safe than sorry. 

I had seen the flesh use these ‘adrenaline shots’ before. When stabbed with the pointed end, the liquid inside released, the body flared up with a surge of energy within half a minute. I used this moment to pull the glass from my arm. 

It was difficult to see, but I was certain that all the glass had been removed. I hissed as I attempted to clean the wound with water. My assumption was correct, no glass remained. Now for the bandage. I had seen survivors use these plenty of times, even using it on Genesis when he-

Child. Danger. Fear!

My muscles tensed and I groaned. I can recall the pack. But what exactly got me in this room? There were no windows, nor other shards of glass nearby.  

||

When the pack made its movements. Leaping from one roof to the next, I realized it was too late to warn the rest of them. While the hunters had grown and learned faster than the other worthy infected, they were still primitive. Not understanding of what was a threat and what wasn’t. A few days of hunger would change something in them. We were leaping from rooftop to rooftop. All of us tired and hungry. That’s when a long-tongue had decided to pull in one of the older hunters from a lower roof top.  

And the youngling it carried. 

Child. Danger. Fear!

The older ones stayed in the middle, just behind the food carriers, and the younger hunters behind them. With leader at the front, and myself at the back. The younger hunters did not know what to do, they still were carrying supplies. Useless to do anything other than leap away. Like a fool, I gestured for them to continue with the pack. As I made my way to the older one.

The long-tongue wasn’t very good with his aim, and rather than pull them towards it, they swung through a window, and the long-tongue was pulled off the edge from the force. I managed to cut the tongue before my packmates were pulled out of the building. The long-tongue smashed into the ground in a cloud of gas. 
Idiot.

I went to investigate the crash, where I was greeted by the wrathful one. A behemoth of muscle and small stubby legs came rampaging towards the older hunter, who was clutching Genesis himself. Ignoring my instincts to run, I grabbed a hold of the brown hood, yanking him away from the fist that punched through the floor.

Wrath. Muscle. Terror!

“Go!” I screamed.  In that moment I forgot that they wouldn’t understand me, but the message seemed clear, as the older one leaped from the window, clutching Genesis. I was not so fortunate -- the behemoth had grabbed my leg as I made to jump, and tossed me through the door.

Dazed, I attempted smaller leaps down the hallway. Another window was available, yet closed. I had to risk it for survival. The behemoth barrelled down the hall, tearing the walls with its broad shoulders. The floor seemed to quake with every heavy step. I didn’t have time to open the window or see if the jump was safe. 

I took a leap across a hundred-metre gap. Several floors down. Only to crash through another window. Vision had left me, and pain shot through my arm.

||

Right. That explains the glass. But that didn’t explain why I had moved. The white room was relatively clean, excluding the blood. It even contained a shower. I looked over to the door, the desire to be in a larger space overwhelming me. A few years ago, one would have bashed the door open, but door handles were far easier to use. I opened the door a bit too quickly, the adrenaline still playing with my strength. This shocked a stranger in the room, with a piece of what smelled like pork in hanging in its mouth.

Hunger. Growl. Enemy?

Neither of us moved. Merely stared. My red eyes locked onto the stranger’s orange eyes. A basic infected? No, would have moved. Similarity uncanny though. But they don’t eat. Another hunter? Too thin. Smell of cooked pork wafted in the air. The stranger had enough intelligence to cook then? Long claws, pale skin. Which makes this a-

Hunger. Danger. Fear.

I closed the door slowly.

She dashed across the room. I barely had enough time to know what to do, as if something was holding my body in place. A feeling unknown. Her long claws dug into the wood of the door, holding it open while continuing to stare at me. Her face was completely neutral, as if gauging my response. My breath stopped. Even while slouching, she was taller than myself.

FearFearFearFearFearFe-

There was a small poke to my chest. She was tall, why did scary things have to be tall? 

Her white messy hair was cut, by her own claws I assumed, up to her shoulders. A small button nose, lips curled into a frown, and bright glowing eyes. They seemed to dance in the dark, tracing my bare upper body. She lingered on my arm, taking note of the bandage. She poked it, causing me to hiss in pain.
She misunderstood, crouching slightly with her free clawed hand twitching. I held my breath, there wasn’t anything more dangerous than a Witch angered, even behemoths understood this. There was only one way to soothe that rage. I hung my head low, sagging my shoulders and arms. I leaned forward slightly, a sign of submission that most hunters understood, perhaps she would too.

She ceased her twitching, poking the bandage once more. I held back my response, rather, I looked up and pouted. There was a small smile on her face, as if enjoying the action of causing me pain. A low hum came from her. She poked once more, but instead aimed for my chest.
I peeked over her shoulder for just a moment. Broken glass neatly piled against a broken window. This was where I –

“Mi-ne.”

Pardon?

She poked the bandage lightly, then back at my chest, “Mine.” 

Confusion? Danger? Ownership?

Has she insinuated that, since I used her property, and that it was on me, that I was also her property? 

Interesting. I hadn’t met another that could even use words. Maybe I should entertain the idea of seeing how much she could talk and understand, or maybe I should return to the pack. The pang in my arm reminded me that I couldn’t leap properly, not without potentially losing the arm. That latter idea was nixed then.

Stay. Obey. Observe.

“Mine. Eat.” She held up the half-eaten pork to my face, looking at me expectantly. When I held out my hand to take it, she shook her head and growled, a small frown on her face. She wanted to feed me herself?

Hunger. Desire. Feed.

I moved my head forward, making sure I didn’t bite her hand. My sharp teeth sunk into the meat, only then did I realise how hungry I was. I made sure that my bites went all the way through, so to not pull too much of it away from her hand. Her body seemed to tremble in delight for every bite I took, a wide smile on her face. Then came the last bite, my mouth full of delicious, cooked meat. I looked up, her hand empty, but she still held it out expectantly.

“Clean.” She moved her claws up, showing some of the juice left over. I decided to play along, not one to deny hospitality from the owner of the window I crashed. Her index claw, was somewhat covered in dried blood. Unbothered, I ran my tongue along the claw. 

Most Witches wouldn’t allow anyone near them, preferring isolation. In the early days, they would emulate the sound of a crying girl. 

The flesh were stupid and empathetic the first few times, reaching out only to be skewered and devoured. But after a few years the flesh learned not to go near anyone that was crying. Instead, the Witches would stay silent and wonder, if something were to bump into them or step into the same room with invasive light, they would swipe and kill. Now they would pick a home and stay, their need to feed was lowered and they would instead keep to themselves.

Adapt. Advance. Accept.

Surprisingly, the Witch’s claw wasn’t a nail. As my tongue ran up and down it, it was more akin to hardened skin. That skin did form an edge. My carelessness had shown that allowing a tongue to follow up a bladed edge would end in a cut.

 The usual Witch attack was wild swings in a wide berth, kind of like one of the flesh holding a… katana? Sword? Machete?

Like a knife.

Judging by the pleased noises she made, it must have been surprisingly sensitive. I noted that grease and oil left from the meat blended well with the dried blood. I looked her over as I moved to the next claw, her garments consisted over a dirty bra and underwear. Once they must have been white, but patches of green and brown were layered through. Excluding her underwear, which seemed to have a patch of red between her-

“Clean.” She growled, she must have noticed my wondering eyes. Interesting. She underwent the same process Rose and the other female hunters did. I had noticed a correlation of the release of blood between that place and the likelihood of impregnation. 

I wonder, what a combination of Hunter and Witch would bring? Or if there was a combination at all. Shame I may never know.

She gasped when my tongue flicked against the end of her claw. Curious, I repeated the action. She put her other hand against her mouth, stifling a gasp. When I moved to the next claw, I grabbed onto her palm. She eyed me warily, taking heavy breaths, her face slightly flushed. I wanted to show that I wasn’t a danger to her. 
Aside from having my sharp teeth literally eating off her hands. 

I massaged the base of my thumb into her palm, careful to not press in the sharp talons. Symbolic amongst the pack to show that even when able to kill another packmate, they would not. She shivered. I looked up to see her teeth nibbling her lower lip, a small upward twitch of the corner of her mouth. 

Perhaps she understood the gesture? 

I slowly ran my tongue along the side of her finger. I used my other hand to run down her arm as the other continued their ministrations. I caressed her arm, my talons gently scratching the surface of her skin. She cooed, knees trembled slightly. The last claw, her pinky if I recall, wasn’t as long or sharp as the others. As I licked away, her breathing grew more laboured. I let the tip of her pinky to enter my mouth, swirled around it and sucked. Her knees buckled, she groaned loudly, finger slipped from my lips and her body collapsed onto mine. 

Exhaustion? Hunger? Strange.

Her other hand came up to my face, but instead of demanding I clean it, she rubbed the back of it against my right cheek. Her orange eyes danced around my face, taking every detail. She went down, cooing as she ran a hand against my abdomen. She bit her lip as her hand lowered near the waist of my pants. Her face growing redder as she moved further down, and caressed over the top of the pants, her palm pressing slightly into my… Penis? I forgot the name it seems. 

She made a short hum in delight, taking away her hand and gesturing to a… really clean bed? I frowned, moving back to the bathroom. She looked confused as I turned; she may have growled if I didn’t grab my torn blue hood. The sleeve was ruined. 

I sighed, ripping it off entirely.

I was uncomfortable with the idea of an asymmetrical hoodie, I tore the other off as well. I rose and looked to her, watching what she’d do next. Light footsteps entered the bathroom. I considered putting the hood back on while the Witch looked up and down me. Then back at the bandage. She giggled, picking up the torn sleeve on the floor and tore it up more. 

Tear. Blue. Ownership?

Well. Seems as though she wanted to show off the bandage? I hadn’t known of a Witch exhibiting this sort of possessive behaviour. I looked down at the broken hoodie. It probably is for the best. Summer is nearing. She poked the hoodie in my hands, then poked near the bandage with her now cleaned claw.

“Blue. Mine.” She said that with a sort of… hot and humid kind of voice. She  smiled, eyes lidded. 

She guessed my name, not that hard, and had now claimed me properly. Great.

She looked down, noticing my still wet blood on the floor, then back up. She moved over to the shower, pulling at the shower head until a long tube followed. Apparently, the shower was extendable. She turned it on and washed the blood down a nearby drain. She picked up the blue rags and glass piece, throwing them into a nearby container, next to a white bowl with a lid. With the shower off, she turned to me looking pleased.

“Clean.” She chirped, waving her hand to the floor. I nodded. Her innocence somewhat amused me, along with her obsession with cleanliness.

Pain. Sharp. Ache.

I clenched my teeth. The healing process had begun properly. Flesh restored itself. I began to remove the bandage. A growl caused me to pause. It was a growl of disapproval, but not threatening. I moved closer to her, and started to unwrap it within her gaze. She accepted this, watching the process with some amount of interest. Ugly, black blood oozed from the wound. I quickly put my arm over the sink, allowing the water wash off what the body refused. Skin and muscle fused together quickly, the repairs nearly complete. It was a fascinating experience. But this state left the body weakened, as it would put the body’s system into overdrive. I would need rest. But perhaps a shower would be comforting beforehand.

Noticing my eyes on the shower, she must have decided to have one as well. As she began to wriggle. Arms flailing behind her as she attempted to take off her bra. She huffed when nothing happened. Withholding the desire to laugh, I moved over behind her. She didn’t mind not seeing me; her trust in me seemed to be good enough. 

Loyal. Friend. Pack.

From memory, this type of bra needed a certain movement – ah! There we go. It unclasped and hung loosely at the sides. She hummed, looking over her shoulder with lidded eyes and a smirk. 

“Re…move. Remove,” she whispered, so quietly my hearing could only just pick it up. As it slid over her shoulders she made a low squeal, then a giggle. The bra had some faded out wording… ‘B’? That’s her name then. Bee. 

This Witch, could only be described as strange. 

Bee turned around, her arms crossed under her breasts, claws hanging loosely by her sides. She took small steps toward me, the floor making little splashes with each step. Upon closer inspection, her breasts were cleaner than the bra she was wearing. Small traces of grease and small droplets of dried blood were here and there on the pale white skin. The only colouring on her skin were the brown nipples that stood on end.

Strange. Didn’t feel cold.

She pressed herself against me. Soft breasts pushed into my face.

“Clean.” She breathed, her head lowered near my ear. 

Well, best do as the lady asks.

I took a step around her. She looked at me in confusion, then in surprise. I removed my clothing, placing them on the lid of the white bowl along with her bra. I pushed the shower head back into where it belonged. I didn’t mind the icy water running down onto my body. The heat would usually take a while to set in with most showers. When I turned to face Bee again, she looked hungry. 

Didn’t she just eat?

She removed her own underwear, careful not to cut the garment. The shower, now releasing warm water, was pleasant against my aching body. Bee joined me not a moment later, letting the water wash over her, but not cleaning herself. Perhaps it was the claws, they would cut into her if she tried to clean herself. Looking closer, there were small cuts and scars scattered along her body. Perhaps she had attempted to clean herself once or twice, but had given up. Hence her dirty appearance.

Blood. Dirt. Grease.

It couldn’t be helped then... it looked like I’d have to clean her properly.

She pressed herself up against me once again, putting her arms around me. I was correct about her height, now that she was standing up straight. She was one foot higher than myself, standing taller. Her wet hair was still very dirty. I delicately ran my fingers through the top layer, encountering knots every inch I moved down. Thankfully her hair was short, but still. She squeezed my body into hers. I looked back over to her face, which now sported a pout. Did she not like the treatment? Were her lips always that full? They seemed bigger than any other females in the pack. 

Cute. Curious. Irrelevant. 

I moved over to the left, grabbing a container that was labelled ‘ 2in1 Shampoo & Conditioner’. From memory, shampoo cleaned hair. Perhaps ‘conditioner’ did the same thing? Well, this cleaning process had to be done thoroughly. She looked at the container in interest. It was more than likely a bad idea to just run it through her hair without showing her how or why.

She let go of my body and watched in interest as I applied the foamy substance through my own shaggy hair. Closed eyes tilted head up. I remembered that if it wasn’t water, then it’d burn the eyes.

I washed out the foam, careful not to rake into my head with my own claws. When I opened my eyes, she was extremely close. I picked the shampoo up again. I poked the bottle, then poked her hair. Her eyes crossed as my finger poked her. 

She was cute. Now that I had a proper look and the adrenaline had run its course, I noticed some more details in her face. Rather than just blurred colours, I saw her cheeks were fuller than most other Witches, seeming to have some fat in them. Witches in general were thin and bony, but deceptively strong. This one was packing muscles. Those arms she kept wrapping around my body could crush me at any moment.

I squeezed more of the shampoo into my hand. I ran it through her hair, careful not to tug on it. She copied my earlier movements, understanding that the substance shouldn’t go on the face. She groaned quietly as my hands ran through her hair. She smiled, pushing against my hand as if to get more of the feeling. Her bare neck was exposed.

Vulnerability. Naivety? Trust? 

No. It was not naivety. She simply replicated what I had done, exposing my neck out of trust and necessity. When I was finished, she stepped around me, going under the shower to wash the foam out. I aided her to get it all out, I watched as grime, dirt and blood washed away from her body, though not entirely. It needed soap, which was another concept even the pack was uncomfortable with. But her hair now seemed to be relatively clean. Even smelled nice.

She resumed her earlier action of wrapping her arms around me. It seemed like a gesture of trust. Which was good. She looked down at me, leaning towards my face. Now that I had a closer look, her small nose twitched every so often. My hearing could pick up a noise from her throat, like a low hum. A constant vibration emanated from her body.

Was she purring?

In my slight absent-mindedness, I noticed she had gotten a little closer. Breathing heavily over my nose. Pork. Did she eat nothing but pork? Weird.

Hmph?!

Her lips were on mine. Her lips were on mine. Her lips were on mine. Her lips were on mine.

Her lips-

She was still as stone, breathing heavily. Was this her first time? I could relate, but I could re-enact what I had directed Bumble and Rose do. I ran my hand through the back of her head, weaving my fingers through her hair. Caressing the back of the silky white hair. My lips moved over hers, my claws on my free hand trailing down her left shoulder and back. 

Judging by the pleased noise she made, and her reciprocation of the lip movement, Bee was getting into motion of things. Her height made things interesting, what with her towering over me. Her squishy lips were pleasant to rub my own against. They seemed to have their own taste as well. I dragged my nails back up. She shook slightly, purring louder than before. She pulled back.

Ashamedly, I squeaked as I was shoved into the cold wall. Her claws dug into my skin, only briefly, but not enough to draw blood. She stared down at me, both of her claws now on either side of my head. I was shaking. But it wasn’t fear. It was… anticipation?

She leaned downwards, a wide toothy smile and lidded eyes. Eyes that glowed and bore into my red ones. The running water, the sound of my heavy breathing. Everything felt like it was in overdrive. My heartbeat thrummed quickly, the sound of my own blood pumping slowly became the loudest noise. Something stirred through my spine. My penis was rising. But all Bee was doing was staring at me. Surrounding me. 

Caged. Trapped. Restraint.

Bee pressed herself against me, swaying her body from side to side. She rubbed against my body. Her warm thighs squeezed together around my hardening member. I couldn’t move. I could only look up at her. That same face was staring down at me. Like she was pleased with herself. Her arms were more powerful than I thought. There wasn’t a whole lot of fat on her. It was as though she spent all her time working out. Six pack abdominals, muscle bound arms and legs. Everything about her was strength and domination. How did I not notice? 

Right. Glass shard, a concussion and adrenaline. 

She lowered her head, moving past my face and next to my right ear. I could hear her breathing. Her body pressing against mine harder at the top, but away with her legs. I could smell the product in her hair. Her claws lowered to the sides of my arms, still against the wall. Her mouth opened wide. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Her lips caressed my neck, the water creating a smoother feeling. She was re-enacting the same movements earlier. I groaned. My own body writhed from her touch. Her control. 

Submission? Consent? Yield?

I felt it. Another sharp tingle through my spine. She cooed. I gasped. My penis was pressing into her vagina. That was her sexual part, yes? 
Argh, this sensation. Plays with words. Can’t think.

I breathed heavily. Bee was purring so heavily I felt it on my chest. Her tongue pressed into the skin of my neck. My own hands moved to grasp onto anything. I needed stability. She took it all away. Sensations of helplessness caused my survival instincts to kick into overdrive. Yet they were soothed all the same because her presence had radiated safety and pleasure. The confusion wrapped through my body. Muscles tensed up. Stomach clenched. My arms wrapped around her, hands grabbing onto her taut behind. She moaned. A breathy, deep moan that filled the room. Next to my ear. 

Why was she doing this? Why was I allowing it? Was this what it was like? For Bumble and Rose? No. Everything I’ve seen and remember, the male had control. The female surrendered.  But why?

Her teeth were nibbling on the sensitive skin. Still in control, but wasn’t going to display violence. Bee hummed pleasantly. I could no longer hold in my voice. My high-pitched whines caused more that shameful feeling to wash over my body. 

Hunters should be proud, strong, and be able to hold their own in one on one situations. The twitching of my penis betrayed that shame, as if it were enjoying the feeling. She wiggled her hips, seeming to derive pleasure from her control over me. But why? 

That’s when I felt salty water touch my lips. I didn’t like this. Yet I liked it.  But why? The confusion had taken over, pleasure and shame flowing against one another. Salty water on the lips and tongue. My arms hung limply on my sides. I was falling. Falling through that window. Falling into a white figure. Falling…

I remember. 

The shadows around my eyes. Losing myself. Falling and falling and falling. All I had was her face. She was worried. She moved me into the bathroom. Then nothing. Bee wanted to help but couldn’t because of her claws… Why help me though?

My hands gripped her posterior tighter. Thankfully, not enough to pierce. I wasn’t feeling that confusion anymore. There was safety here, and that came with a sort of power I held onto. I had identified the question. Why did Bee help me? All I needed was the answ-

“Ah!”

Her index and middle claw were on either side of my penis, rubbing it back and forth slowly. Small grunts escaped me as her claws bumped over the glans. She had moved to the other side of my neck, opting to suck hard on the skin. Her teeth occasionally nipped where she sucked. She let go, seeming to stare at where she had her mouth latched onto. Her eyes widened and a small smirk on her face. At the same time, her pace of rubbing her claws around my sensitive member had gotten faster.  

What had she done to my neck?

Bee looked at my face, her eyes widened and she let go, taking a step back into the water. Did she notice something? She pouted and looked slightly embarrassed. The water poured over her body, and she looked over at the bar of soap.

“Cleeeeaaan,” she whined. 

Hesitantly, I picked up the cream coloured bar. She looked curious at how slow I was moving. She took a step from the water. I rubbed the bar between my hands, getting it wet. As my hands ran over her body, she began to purr again. 

Her breasts were soft and squishy. Odd that they weren’t muscular like the rest of her body. I found my hands lingered there the most, along with my gaze. I was somewhat entertained by their jiggle. Bee bit her lip. I noticed the action seemed to correlated with pleasure and withholding it. 

I lowered onto my knees. I started washing her thighs, moving slightly inwards. She gasped. The muscle must be sensitive then. Lowering my hands to the back of her knees and up the back of her thighs to her taut butt. She let out a long groan. As I looked up, Bee returned the gaze. Staring at me with a smile, almost as if she were considering something.

Bee backed into the flowing water, allowing the water to wash off the soap. That gave me time to think, still crouched, and closed my eyes. She did those earlier actions because I was claimed as her property. That much makes sense. It was my fault for attempting to kiss back, because she wanted to. But I wasn’t prepared for this. Little time to adjust. 

Therefore, the reason she’s doing this is because she thinks it’s right, perhaps she remembers some of the ritual that creates children and wants to re-enact it? Which means she wanted to do this with me. Because I am her property. 

Ugh, back at square one. Perhaps she wouldn’t want to do that with just anyone? Then why would she want to-

“Mnff.” I grunted, there was something hairy against my face, with a faint sweet smell. Opening my eyes slightly, there was a cute white bush of hair. Hidden underneath was a vagina. Bee’s vagina to be exact. She took a single step back and outstretched her hand. She pulled me up standing straight. Then wrapped her arms around me again, she mumbled incoherently. 

Do I reciprocate? Do I run away? She wants me to relent, to allow her to be in control. 

I closed my eyes and looked up. I’ve been the runt of the pack, the weakest and smallest. My intelligence was valued, I had odd habits. I never had a female approach me in such a way because of my oddities and my weakness. Yet that was no reason to allow myself to be taken. 
I felt like I wanted to go back to the pack. At the same time, I felt something else. She did rescue me, in a sense. She fed me too, in a weird way. It’s possible that she liked me the same way that Rose likes Bumble. 

I felt Bee move in, kissing me as best she could. Probably mistaking my head tilting upwards as an invitation. It doesn’t matter, I’ll let her do as she desires. Only because I… 

Why am I doing this?

Her large, smooth and soft lips caressed my rough ones. I wrapped my hands around her body.  She gasped.

I’m doing this because I want to. Not to show appreciation, but because I have an attraction to her. 

Cute. Strong. Dependable.

My survival with the pack was good, but there was no happiness. Here, that could change. But at the same time, I felt like I was betraying the pack. Perhaps that would be the case, but they were unlikely to look for me anyway. It was mutual then. I disconnected and nestled my head in her collarbone. I rubbed my hardened penis against her inner thigh. She murmured in approval. She didn’t move nor act on my reciprocation.

I bit my lower lip. I knew I wanted this, but how do I go about it? I don’t know what I’m doing. This was much easier when she was… 

I let go of her, smiling softly in understanding. She looked surprised, her face scrunched up. Almost as if she was going to cry. 

I pressed my back against the wall, the cold tickling my skin. I let out my arms, hands outstretched. Her mood changed almost immediately. 

Her claws pressed against the wall on either side of my head. I pulled her into a hug, trailing my claws down her back. She let a small giggle, smiling a bit too widely. Verging on creepy. But that was alright. 

“I’ll give in to you, Bee.” I whispered. Maybe she wouldn’t understand, but it convinced me that this is what I-

“I… like Blue.” My eyes widened, still smiling, she descended onto my lips. It was mutual, but she had the height. The control, the pace… and I was caged. 

And I enjoyed every moment of it. Her tongue snaked into my mouth, pressing against mine. The taste of pork was vague, but there. Her tongue twisted around my own, pulling and tugging. My hips thrusted by sheer sensory overload. Bee moaned in response, the sensation against her vagina seemed a lot more powerful than my sensitivity. My hands trailed down her spinal cord, claws digging slightly downwards onto her taut butt. Her powerful thighs clenched, my penis stuck in the middle of it. Thankfully the water allowed less friction, the action was pleasurable for the both of us. 

I managed to outmanoeuvre her tongue, and pushed back into her mouth. I felt her giggle, as she pushed back with twice as much effort as before. Almost as if it were wrapping around me. She had been playing me. I groaned inwardly. I was completely enveloped by her, inside and out. 

Her arms moved down to the sides of my torso, the bladed edge of her claws pressed into my sides. Not enough to draw blood, but enough to know the danger was there. She wouldn’t hurt me though, that much I knew. Rather, she pressed her breasts against my chest. The squishy, wet sensation, dragging across felt… good. Sometimes her nipples would run over my own, creating a spark and sensation that caused both her and myself to moan. 

Of course, if her top half was moving side to side, then her wide hips wiggled from side to side. The head of my penis was getting overstimulated. It felt like it hurt, but at the same time it felt good. I stopped running my hands around; instead, I grabbed onto her shoulders by hooking my arms underneath hers, pulling her in closer. During our tongue kiss, I realized I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move out of it because there was nowhere to go. But this danger was overshadowed by pleasure. Every pang and ache of my lungs that alerted my body, would cause my penis to twitch, pressing into Bee’s sex. She would moan into my mouth, I would moan back weakly. It felt good. I didn’t have enough space to thrust. I was trapped.

My vision grew hazy. Harder to focus. Bee was here. I’d be safe. Air… would be… nice.

Bee pulled back. Reflexively, my lungs took in the much-needed air. It felt close. Something was close. She looked at me in worry.
I pulled her back against me, groaning as I felt her labia press against the head. She gasped in response, a bite to her lip refrained it from dragging on. I was breathing heavily, I felt exhausted. Between almost suffocating from a kiss and the healing process of my arm. But I wanted this. 

I heard some squeaking. I turned to see that she was turning off the water, whilst holding me with her other arm. I wanted to say something, but she shushed me instead.

“Get comfy. Then we… will see.” She whispered, “Let’s… dry our… selves.”

That sounded like a good idea.

Wait- did she just… make a whole sentence?
|I|

I held her hand as we walked out of the steaming bathroom. Dirty clothes were left behind as we simply walked out nude. She looked over at our connected hands. Blushing madly. Bee didn’t know that I could see her expression out of the corner of my eye. Funny that she liked to be in control, but this made her feel embarrassed. Now that I was able to breathe freely, I wasn’t as tired. 

She sat me down on the bed anyway. She crawled over the top of me, setting herself down on my stomach. Bee was still wet down there, and I was semi-erect, my penis lying flat against my stomach.

She placed a hand over her mouth and giggled. Leaning downwards, her breasts hovered above my face. I groaned as her vagina slid along my penis. Bee continued her giggling, and cooed every so often as she moved back and forth along the shaft. 

Her breasts swayed from side to side. My eyes followed them as they moved. I grabbed her left breast, squeezing it slightly. I grabbed the other breast, making the same movements. Her brown nipples stuck out between my index and thumb. She smiled, but it was clear I would not get any more of a response with simply pushing her breasts around with my hands. She grabbed both of my hands with a surprising amount of accuracy, not cutting into my wrists. She put them above my head. I complied, not wanting to cut my wrists open. She moved her hands back to the sides of my head.

“Stay. There.” That sounded like an order. I was tempted to refuse, but she may not know what to do. Or she might bite me. Best do as she says. I wasn’t one for pain. 

Bee leaned back up, moaning as she moved back and forth. Her hands rose above her head, palms hugging her elbows, and shook her hips side to side. Her knees dug into the bed as she rose up slightly. Her vagina hovered above my penis, which still lay on my stomach, by a few centimetres. It was as if she were doing a small dance on my lap. I groaned at the sight. 

Bee chuckled, licking her lips. I groaned whenever she lowered herself and rolled her hips along the shaft. Wetness coated my penis. My heartbeat quickened as one of her hands lowered. She poked her tongue out, resting it on her chin. The tip of her index claw touched it, before running her claws down her chest. All the while her swaying dance never stopped. 

Her forearm rested beneath her swaying breasts. Her other hand moved next to her face, the palm pressing into her cheek, a small smile adorned her face. The arm that rested beneath her breasts trailed past her abs. Her hand slid under my penis, pulling it up slowly to meet the entrance of her vagina. She continued her swaying dance, but moved slower. Biting her lip, a little too hard. Almost as if she was going to…

A trail of blood left her lip down the side of her face.

Teasing. Tempting. Tortuous. 

The level of stimulation was intoxicating. The smell of raw food brought on it’s memory. The tingling that sparked throughout my body. How she still managed to stay in control. To remain on top and prevent me from moving. 

I stared at her glowing eyes in awe and excitement. The control she displayed, even going as far as to prevent me from touching. I could attempt to thrust inwards. But that would ruin it, and it was almost as if she knew that I wouldn’t. She continued to sway her hips, allowing the tip to enter. I shuddered, my body begging to penetrate her. The heat emanating from her vagina surrounded me. I could feel the large vein that ran along the shaft pump heavily.

She let go of my dick. Both her hands rose from her waist, going under her breasts and flicking over her nipples. She gasped lightly, a small flush on her face. Her hands rested atop her head. She closed her eyes. 

Every part of me desired to move. She slid down a bit more. A groan left her lips. Her swaying continued, but more in a circular motion. Her eyes were lidded. The blood from her lips stopped flowing. It stained her chin. 

“Go on. Touch my… ass.” She licked her lip. I grabbed onto her cheeks, her ‘ass’ as she put it, was much more relaxed. Squishy, even. She quivered and lowered herself slowly. My mouth hung loose, letting loose a series of small squeaks. My vision fading out. It was extremely hot. Or was it my body that was cold? Inside felt like a vice grip, yet smooth and squishy. Looking down, I saw her stomach muscles clench and unclench rapidly. Her breath was quick and heavy. She was still swaying. Which caused more than enough stimulation. It was as though flesh was constantly wrapping and moving around, up and down me. She groaned and muttered something. 

Bee lowered down, tracing my widened lips with her tongue, tickling me.  Claws pressed down on either side of my head. I could taste her blood... not an unwelcome taste. 

My hands still gripped her ass, my body twitching upwards. I held back. She didn’t say I could move. Her tongue stopped its tracing. I closed my mouth. Vision returning and a sweet smile on her face. A troublesome, cute smile.

“Fuck me, Blue.” 

Her teeth bit down on my lower lip. My body already moving by the time she swore. Hips slapped into her. Not in a random rhythm. But a fast beat. By the time I entered her wholly, I was already making an exit. It was the same vice versa. I could feel my glans hit something at the end. The… uterus? That was where I deposited my semen. To make her… 

Pregnant.

Child. Witch. Hunter.

My claws dug into her soft posterior. I did as she asked. I grit my teeth from the sensations; the part between shaft and tip was especially sensitive. I continued my movement, never relenting. Perhaps it had to do with the Hunter’s ability to continue leaping?

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!” She could swear a lot. She’d been screaming that every time I hilted. Which was surprising, considering the rate I did. But it wasn’t as though I could talk. I just about repeated her vulgar phrases.

She fell, her breasts smothering my face. 

“Slow!” she all but screamed into the bed. My eyes widened. Moving at a slower pace. Her vagina swallowing me to the base and exiting to the glans every ten seconds. I counted, just to make sure it really was slow. She moaned lowly, still head first in the bed. Her head turned, face positively red, breathing heavily. 
Why do I allow her to remain in control? I could just move on my own now. 

“Good, Blue. Blue is good. Blue is very good.” she said sultrily. My heart damn near skipped a beat. Compliments were nice. Was this that feeling that bound Bumble and Rose? If so, then I’d do whatever she wanted me to do. She chuckled. She must have noticed my goofy smile. She lifted herself up. Every time I’d hilt, she’d push down and wiggle. We both groaned heavily.

She began to make her own pace, moving faster. I reflexively closed one of my eyes, panting as I felt something come closer. Something was coming and I couldn’t stop it from-

She stopped.

“Do not do it, Blue. Blue will get hurt. Blue has to wait.” She whispered in my ear tauntingly. There was no real harshness behind those words. Yet I did not want to disappoint. I nodded, not able to formulate words in my panting state. She smirked and moaned quietly as she resumed her fast pace. While not quite as intense as earlier, it was enough to make me shiver with every hilt.

My hands twitched, feet curled and I couldn’t stop gasping and moaning. She couldn’t either, but being this kind of vulnerable was all types of uncomfortable. Yet it was that same feeling that caused every throb of my penis. It had almost swelled to another half of its original size.
Another wave of euphoria hit me. I couldn’t hold it in. Yet somehow, like a sixth sense, she stopped moving again.

“Close, Blue. Blue has to wait.” She whispered again, though there was something behind that. Close? Was she feeling the same thing I was?
She moved back to her quick pace, her claws pressed down on my chest. She was warm. Unbelievably warm. Her jaw slackened for a moment, one eye closed whilst the other twitched rapidly. Her rhythm broke, thrusting madly. I couldn’t take it. My body convulsed violently from the pent up pleasure. Legs failing rapidly, hands slamming down onto the sheets to grip and tear at them. 

“Move! Move fast! Bluuueee- ah!” She screamed out, but that was all the incentive I needed. Her hips crashed into my own, slapping into her pale flesh, quickly turning it a dull shade of pink. My hands grasped her hips, tearing into her skin slightly. She didn’t seem to mind or care. I was on the verge and so was she. Her own body seemed to shake, breasts rose and dropped rapidly. Her body fell again, her face close to my own. 

“KissKissKissKi-glmph.”

There wasn’t any room to think. Her body burned. Her vagina clenched and unclenched rapidly. The feeling coaxed me to release. Bee no longer thrusted, rather she ground into my cock as I practically vibrated within her. Her eye closed, while the other twitched violently. No longer bothering with the kiss, her tongue left lolling out. Her muscles strained, her vagina muscles must have been doing the same. They coiled and contracted.

I thrusted hard, forgetting to hold back. I virtually leaped into her. Bottoming out and releasing my semen. Every throb, came another release. As though a stream had been released. I couldn’t move. It was bliss.  

Bee whined with every burst of semen that was released. She had moved her head to the side of my own, as we stared into one another’s glowing eyes. Her greedy vagina accepted every drop. My body would shudder occasionally while load after load was deposited. My still hardened member remained within her. Every twitch would cause her to moan. 

We stayed like that for what felt like an eternity. 

And eternity we would stay together.

The exhaustion washed over me. Between the non-stop travel, being tossed around by a behemoth and sexually tormented and ravaged by a Witch... 

My eyes closed and all I could think of was Bee.

|I|

I stirred. Night had fallen, and my internal clock had awoken me. I would usually take night shift around now. I suppose the pack would need me to-
Right. A bed, with Bee.

I felt no pressure on the bed. She was gone. I sat up and looked about the room.

“Bee?”

I couldn’t see her nearby. Had she left? I suppose I had to… 

I sighed. I didn’t want her to go so soon. I had wished that we could stay together forever, but the pack should know I’m alive. I suppose I should leave.
The door to the room opened, a pale figure with glowing orange eyes stepped in. Wearing… a dress.

A small white veil flipped over her head, with a tiara on her head. She carried a set of small flowers. But the dress’ hem was tattered and somewhat dirty. It would have originally flowed down to her knees, instead they left them bare and revealed her thighs. The rest of it was clean and white. It suited her form quite nicely, the sleeves ripped off entirely. White stockings hugged her legs up to her knees, and she stood quite elegantly in white high heels.

I sucked in air and held it. Pinched myself and closed my eyes and released. When I opened, she was still there, eyes lidded and smiling a small smile.

“Blue. Mine. Bee. Yours.” She said sweetly, placing the flowers on a nearby dresser.

I didn’t know what to say. 

No. I didn’t need to say anything. Because all I needed was her.