Hunter: The Reckoning

Murphy’s Tap House wasn’t a very nice place to sit and talk. It wasn’t really a very nice place to do anything but get as drunk as possible, and even then customers had to stick to bottled beers because the tap wasn’t working.

There were a total of three people present. Murphy, the barkeep, was muttering something about “Garou,” while one of his two customers sat slumped at the other end of the bar. The patron smelled like garbage and looked no better, and seemed to have some sort of deformity on his back. It had given him the unwanted nickname “Hunch”.

The only other sign of life in the bar sat in one of its dark, dingy corners. She was about twenty with long dark hair. She was the only one that didn’t seem to notice when the door opened and another, more rowdy patron entered.

When he pulled a gun and shot Murphy and Hunch she couldn’t really help but notice. He opened the cash register and snorted in disgust, removing the only twenty dollar bill inside.

He seemed startled by the young woman that seemed to appear right in front of him when he turned around. He was even more surprised when she broke his arm in three places and dragged him out of the bar by his ankle. The last thing he saw of the inside of the bar made no sense at all. Hunch stood up, ignoring the blood, and went back to his drink. Murphy actually waived, his bloodstained shirt glistening in the dim light.


The would-be thief soon found himself dangling over a small cliff. Murphy’s Tap House wasn’t exactly on a mountain, but there was a bit of a drop down the road and on the other side. It was just over seventy feet, and as the hapless thug dangled by little more than the neck of his shirt he had to struggle to avoid wetting his pants.

“See down there?” the woman that couldn’t be human asked. “That’s a lot of empty space, isn’t it?” The crook whimpered and shook his head. “Bet you’d make a big mess,” she said, “Bet you’d go all over the ground.”

Just as quickly as the girl had snuck up on him in the bar, the newcomer seemed to sneak up on her. “Put the man Down, Elly,” the stranger said, causing “Elly” to jump and nearly lose her balance, “You don’t know where he’s been.”

“Jericho!” El squealed as she spun around. Jericho laughed and held up his hands when she tried to rush him. “Put him down first,” he said, “Then maybe we can get going.”

Elly made a noise very similar to a dog whining. “But I wanna see him bounce,” she pouted, her voice showing a slight southern accent. “He looks like he might even bounce several times.” Jericho walked over, threw an arm around her, and sighed. “The fat ones don’t bounce, El, they splatter. Remember the last one?”

Elly giggled. “It took them weeks to find all or him.” Jericho nodded and looked the hapless victim over a few times. “Come on,” he said, “We can find you a snack somewhere else. Let’s go.”

Ely smiled and gently pushed him away. “Well aren’t you sly,” she remarked, “I bet you could charm a girl right out of her…” she giggled again. “Well we all know where that road leads.”

Her smile seemed to be contagious. “Would you call that the road less traveled,” he asked with a mischievous grin, “or the path of least resistance?” Elly seemed to think for a long time before answering.

“Definitely not the road less traveled,” She said. “I’d have to go with the second one.” She seemed surprised when the man she was holding whimpered, and stared at him as if wondering where he had come from.

“Let him go,” Jericho said, “I’m getting bored.” Elly sighed and tossed her prey through the air, making it seem far easier than it should have been. “You humans and compassion,” she grumbled as she crossed her arms. Jericho threw his arm around her again. “You werewolves and violence.” The thug was sprinting down the road by now; to hell with not wetting himself.



Jericho and Elly waited until he was gone to collapse into a heap among gales of laughter. “Th-Think he pissed his pants!” Elly gasped, trying to breathe and giggle at the same time. Jericho faired no better. “He though we would d-drop him,” he chuckled, “As if you could bring yourself to drop anyone off that stupid cliff!” Elly managed to sit up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Soon they calmed down enough to decide what to do with the rest of the night. Jericho suggested hunting what he called “rots”. “But those are never any fun,” Elly grumbled, “They never put up a fight, and they stink!”

“Got something else in mind?” Jericho asked, knowing what she was about to suggest. Elly loved hunting vampires, almost to a fault.