Categories > Original > Fantasy

Hunters Moon

by Loralee_jk 0 reviews

In the year 1989, the American government decided that they wanted a team of elite soldiers. The last one to escape was number 219, later on to be known as Amara O’Conner. This is her story.

Category: Fantasy - Rating: G - Genres: Sci-fi - Published: 2009-06-10 - Updated: 2009-06-11 - 1379 words - Complete

0Unrated
Hunters Moon



In the year 1989, the American government decided that they wanted a team of elite soldiers. Instead of sending in 1,000 regular soldiers and having 100 of them die, they would send in 10 of their perfect soldiers and have none of them die. They would do this using the best DNA money could buy. They decided they would get the best results if they mix animal DNA and human DNA together. The 1st four sets of results, consisting of 623 lives were complete failures. Most died at birth or, if not, were born with horrible defects and were later all killed. In the year 2000 group number 5 however was a success, consisting of two-hundred and fourteen lives. They looked absolutely perfect. But anyone that worked in the facility knew how wrong that assumption would be.



They all had dark jet black eyes with retractable tails and dragon like wings, with the strength of 3 men. Their 5 senses were heightened to that of a dog. They were also rumored to have the speed and stealth of a cat. No one knows for sure; like I said before, they were just children. And that being the case there were emotions attached to everything they did. They were scared into never letting these emotions show. Unfortunately for the facility this all backfired. And the training they’d been giving for the past 14-17 years backfired and was used against them. In the year 2017, one-hundred and four out of two-hundred and fourteen of the remaining soldiers fled the facility they had grown up in. Armed with the knowledge and skill of army seals, they ambushed their way out and into the world. Ninety nine escaped. The last one to get out was number 219, later on to be known as Amara O’Conner. This is her story.



Amare walked down the 16th street in downtown New York City, wearing dark blue jeans, strappy heels, a classy white tank top under a gray zip-up sweater. She also had on hoop earrings that complemented her newly tanned skin and wavy auburn hair that was in a tight pointy-tail. She currently had the job as a secretary in a high-end lawyer's office. Two months ago, she had been a waitress at a bar in Chicago. Before moving there, she had been a surfing instructor in Hawaii only 6 months ago. She liked the "under the table" jobs that didn’t require her to fill out more than one form or give out any traceable information. Unfortunately, living like that requires her to pay in all cash. Under the table jobs didn’t usually pay above minimum wage, unless you included tips. Thus the reason for the new flashy job she had now.



As she turned the corner towards her destination, she could see a full moon hanging in the sky surrounded by only a couple of stars. The temperature had dropped, but only to a rough 19’ degrees. She picked the lock of a two inch thick metal door leading to the inside of an apartment garage. Her shoes echoed as she walked confidently through the dark room, towards another thick door 46 cars from where she had just entered. Anyone that would be watching the security cameras later would have to wonder how she knew where the door was, or how she knew to step over a broken car fender that had been lying directly in her path. Perhaps even wonder if her glowing yellow eyes were real, or a defect in the camera.



As Amara began to climb up the 27 flights ahead of her, her mind was on a tall dark stranger from her childhood. He would now be in his early thirties. She knew he would still have his raven black hair that went so well with his naturally tanned skin and his dark chocolate eyes. A knowing smirk formed on her flawless features.



As she passed the square sign reading “Floor 17”, she proceeded to take her hair out of her ponytail, only to re-do it, but in a tight bun with a few shorter hairs that didn’t make it back up. She un-zipped her sweater and let it slide off her shoulders to the ground. Light from a door window displayed a purple pendant and a white tank-top that read ‘Drama Queen’ in silver sparkles on her chest. She pulled down the back of her tank-top as much as it would allow to reveal two almost invisible scars that were one foot long each on her back. They curiously began to part on their own, leaving trickles of blood dripped down her back in wavy lines of crimson red. As the odd cuts simultaneously became wider, dark gray wings sprouted out of them in a splash of red and purple blood. Leaving several splashes of the fluid over the previously creamy yellow walls and gray floor.



During this whole ordeal, the 5’6" brunette had never let even a whimper escape her lips. The only sound heard was the continuous click of her heels on the cement, and the sound of the blood hitting the walls behind her. As she let go of her top that was now spotted in blood, it soaked up the rest that had dripped down her back.



Her eyes continued to glow a neon yellow as she finally reached the roof of the apartment building. She stood at the edge and her two perfectly white eye-teeth began to grow a little as she opened her mouth in a yawn like gesture. Then she spread her 9 foot long wings in the air and jumped off the building with a swish, only to glide 4 buildings over. She hovered above a penthouse with a huge skylight on top with red/blue light leaking from it.



Amara stayed above the window for about 6 minutes. She was on a direct angle from it and seemed to be waiting for something. As a shadow crossed the path of light she swooped down, curled her strong wings around her body and crashed through the 2 inch thick window, landing directly on the form that had walked through the light.



The dark haired man she had previously been thinking about was underneath her body. She had her knee underneath his chin, pushing into his throat and growled at him through fang like teeth with her glowing eyes and wings spread. She reached her hand down to a pocket at the bottom of her blue jeans. She slid her hand down the rough material and pulled out a shiny, smooth dagger decorated in painted gold with a ruby embedded in the handle.



She locked eyes with him and took a long look. He hadn’t shaven his face that morning; his hair was messy and in front of his solid eyes staring into her raven black ones. They both knew what was coming and had each prepared for it for the last 3 years. He’d known his time would come once he’d gotten the calls about Ricki, Kyle and Cole's sudden deaths beginning three years to this day. They had all worked together back in '89. They had all witnessed the deaths of over 500 youths of all kinds. They had all been there that night when ninety nine of the best escaped.


Now it was his turn to pay for his mistakes, to own up the things he had created and creatures he had killed. She still wouldn’t loosen her hold on his eyes as she brought the dagger towards his chest, not even when she pushed the point of it through his heart. They were still looking at each other when his heart stopped beating and he’d taken his last breath.



As she stood up and looked into his empty eyes she wasn’t sure if it was closure she felt or sadness for killing him. She walked to a window that was as large as a wall, waiting for the call she knew would come. At exactly 12:59 she heard her cell phone ring. She reached into her back pocket and flipped it open. She didn’t need to see who it was, she knew. She put the phone to her ear and said in a voice that sounded dead, even to her own ears, “Mission accomplished.”







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