The Hunter
Chapter 6
Hunter receded back into his home. He quickly went into his bedroom and grabbed his tacklebox and a fishing rod. He gripped his favorite one, a sleek black, seven foot Abu Garcia. Walking back to his front door he set down his box and leaned the rod against the door frame so he could grab a water bottle from the kitchen. Snatching one out of the fridge he gathered up his gear and walked out the front door. Just as he was locking the door his phone started to ring. He pulls it out to see the name Cain across the screen. Cain was one of his best friends at Site 17. He could remember the day he met him like it was yesterday.
Immediately after Hunter joined the SCP Foundation
"So, is this the part where you give me the grand tour?" hunter says
"Yes, however there's someone I want you to meet, I'll let him do the honors," Lynch said, picking up his office phone and dialing a number. "Cain, good news, Mr. Braxton decided to join us, now would you be so kind to show him his new workplace?" The man on the other end gave a short reply that Hunter couldn't quite understand. "Thank you, We're waiting in my office."
"Cain?"
"Yes, he's quite the character. I think you two will get along nicely. Just, don't say anything about his forehead."
A minute later an Arabian looking man walks through the door he has black hair and blue eyes. He's wearing khaki pants and a black polo shirt. Hunter then notices that coming from his sleeves were two metal, robot-like arms. Looking at his face he then realizes he has a strange symbol on his forehead.
"Ah, there he is," Lynch said, "Hunter, I would like to introduce you to SCP-073, or Cain as he prefers to be called."
"Um, Hi."
"Greetings," the humanoid said, "So, have you briefed him on his first assignment yet, sir?"
"No, that was going to come later."
"You got him to sign the paperwork before you even told him about the clown thing?"
"Excuse me," Hunter said.
"He doesn't need to know about that just yet, Cain."
"He does now."
"I was going to wait a couple days before I give him his assignment. He needs to go through training first."
"Excuse me, but can we talk about this clown thing?" Hunter asked, fairly concerned.
"No," Lynch said without skipping a beat. "We've got to give you some training, then you can know. Alright, now, Cain, please show Hunter here around."
"Yes, sir. Would you please follow me?" Cain asked Hunter. He rose from his seat and started to follow the man out.
"See ya later, Mr. Lynch," Hunter said, walking out and closing the door behind him.
Present time
Hunter tapped the answer button on his phone. "Yo," he said, taking a seat on a chair near the door.
"Are you having fun Mr. Braxton?" Cain asked.
"Eh, a little."
"Have you killed anyone yet?" Hunter wasn't sure if he should lie or tell the truth.
"..."
"Hunter."
"Maybe."
"For fucks sake hunter its been a day," says a second voice in the background, one that was quite unmistakable.
Hunter gasped. "Is that Gramps?" he asked.
"Yep," Gramps says from the background. Most people called him Gramps. Although, his official name is SCP-343.
"Yes, lemme talk to him."
"Ugh, fine. He wants to talk to you" Cain says, handing the phone over to the older of the two SCP's.
"Yello," Gramps says.
"Gramps, do you love me?" Hunter asked.
"Of course I do, Hunter"
"Then get me out of this shitty place, please"
"Nah."
"What?"
"Nah."
"Oh come on, Gramps, please?"
"Nah, I'm just going to let you stay there."
"Bullshit, you're messing with me." Hunter said, a smile on his face.
He lets out a sigh, "Hunter, we have a serious problem."
"Yeah?"
"As much as I well and truly want to bring you home, I can't. You're no longer in my domain, and I have no idea where you are."
"Oh"
"Now, should I find who's domain you are in, and believe me i'm trying, I'll gladly pull you home."
"Oh, alright. Well, I guess let me talk to Cain again."
"Alright, here he is, please be careful, Hunter."
"Always am Gramps."
"Bullshit." He then hands the phone to Cain
"So, Hunter, how many have you killed already?" Cain asked.
"Two."
"Just two?"
"Yep."
"Now, what exactly was the reason for that?"
"Well, the first one was a rapist and the second was a serial killer."
He sighed. "The first was a rapist and the second was a serial killer," he says pinching the bridge of his nose. "How in the hell did you come across those two?"
"Well, I was just doing a little reconnaissance."
"Reconnaissance," Cain interrupts.
"Yes. Now, If I could just continue on. So, I was having a little look around the local town and I stumbled upon this bar, okay?"
"yeah."
"And there was this dude with this chick, okay?"
"Yes."
"And he drug her into this alley beside the bar, he had a knife, I had a gun; and I'm sure you know exactly where I'm going with this."
"Okay, when did this happen?"
"Last night, after dark."
"Last night? when did the second one happen?"
"Oh, you know... about an hour ago."
"Oh my god."
"Yes," Gramps chimes in.
"Not you," Cain said.
"If not me then who?"
"What?"
"Yeah, Cain, who?" Hunter asked.
"That's not what I meant."
"Gramps, I think he's cheating on you." Hunter said, snickering, trying his best not to laugh too hard.
"Cain, after everything I've done for you." Gramps said, hardly able to contain his laughter.
"Will you two knock it off! Hunter, can you please describe the inhabitants?" Cain asked, clearly done with his friend's bullshit.
"Well, their technology is a lot like the 20's, their architecture is like the 1600's, and their fashion is surprisingly modern."
"The 1600's? What does that mean?"
"Their roofs are straw."
"Their roofs are straw," he repeats.
"Yes you twat, oh, and they look like horses."
"What?"
"They. Look. Like. Horses. Do I need to spell it out?"
"I heard what you said," Cain said while Gramps was laughing in the background, "What the actual fuck do you mean they look like horses?"
"Well, their body shape is basically the same as us."
"Yeah."
"Their arms are the same."
"Yeah."
"Their legs are the same, but with hooves."
"What the hell?"
"And their heads are like horses" Gramps busted out laughing even harder.
"Good luck getting a girlfriend Hunter!" Gramps said
"Like, how similar to a horses?" Cain asked.
"Ok, first off, Gramps, don't rub salt in the wound. Besides, maybe the ladies will have a thing for exotic gentlemen."
"You're not a gentleman, Hunter," Cain said.
"Hey, shut up, okay? I had a short conversation with the serial killer, they call themselves ponies, alright? They have ears on top of their heads. They have gigantic fucking eyes, but they don't really have a muzzle like an actual horse. Their muzzles are shorter, even more so on the females. You know what? I'll just send you a picture."
"How many pictures do you have?"
"... None."
"So, how are you going to get one?"
"Well, obviously I'm going to waltz back into their town and take a few candid pics."
"Fucking creep," Gramps said
"Yeah fucking creep," Cain said
"Y'all ain't starting this shit. So, how's my family doing?"
"They're doing okay, staying with your dad's family. Your sister is pissed. Your mom is grieving. Your dad is being your dad." Hunter wasn't too upset about his sister, she was always pissed at him. However, his mother was a different story.
"He's enjoying his fifteen minutes of fame isn't he?"
"Very much so."
"Do you think you guys could put an end to that?"
"Most definitely."
"Please do, I can't stand the thought of that arrogant bast..."
"Hey, Cain," a new, female, voice said. Hunter rolled his eyes.
"Oh, for Christ's sake," Hunter said under his breath.
"Hello, Iris," Cain said.
"Are you busy?" she asked.
"Are you just going to ignore me?" Gramps asked.
"No," Iris said, giving him a hug, then she turned to Cain. "Well?"
"Yes," he said, "We're talking to Hunter right now."
"Hmm, that's cool." She said in a less than impressed voice.
"Okay, well I got shit to do," Hunter said.
"Like what?" Cain asked.
"Things."
"What kind of things?"
"Stuff and things, now shut the fuck up."
"You're going fishing aren't you?"
"Yes I am."
"Didn't you just kill a man?"
"Leave it to Hunter to kill someone that quickly," Iris said. Hunter simply ignored her.
"Well, I did the same thing after the 096 incident, the 939 incident, and don't forget the Hell Hounds of White's Bridge. And this was a walk in the park, at least he died."
"Speaking of which, how easy are they to kill?"
"A head shot and a chest shot are still fatal, so I got that going for me, which is nice."
"Alright then Hunter, have fun goofing off."
"I very much shall you raging cunt. Bye, love you boo boo" Hunter said. Making some kissing noises at the end to give it that finishing touch. He lowered his phone and ended the call before Cain could say anything. Hunter and Cain were most certainly not a thing. Hunter just liked to mess around, and he knew that it annoyed Cain every time he did it. It got him in trouble with HR once but what are they going to do to him now?
Getting up from his comfy seat he returned his phone to his pocket. Then he gathered up his gear and trekked through the forest to his new fishing spot. The walk wasn't so bad, the weather was actually pretty nice. Hunter estimated it was about seventy five degrees. Which was pleasantly cool compared to the south Georgia heat he was used to. The forest itself was something he wasn't quite used to. This forest was pretty much all oak. The woods he was used to back home was a good mix of pine and oak. Out of habit he scanned the forest floor as he walked along, looking for any tracks. He could tell that deer and hogs come through the area frequently. Their also appeared to be some canine tracks, they were quite large, possibly those of a wolf. He was glad he had his trusty peacemaker with him, rubbing against his thigh every time he took a step.
Soon he was back at the same tree which he had been using to keep crossing the creek. He set his box down on the bank and pulled out a dark colored, shallow swimming lure to use. He ran the line through the eyes on his rod and tied on his lure just as he had a million times before. Climbing up onto his makeshift bridge he scanned the waters for a target. It didn't take him long to find the silhouette of a bass sitting approximately ten yards away. He pressed down on the reel's release lever and gave the rod a flick, allowing the lure to fly well past the fish. It splashed down in the water and he began to reel it back in. Hunter adjusted his position on the log so that his lure would swim by a couple of feet in front of the fish.
As he reeled in he noticed more shadows start to move around. He could see the tiny dot that was his lure swimming side to side as it passed by his intended target. Hunter's eyes lit up as the big bass started to move towards it, he slowed down his reeling just a hair. Suddenly the fish darted forward and sucked Hunter's lure into his mouth. He instinctively yanked back with his rod causing the hook to sink into the fish's lip. 'This never gets old,' Hunter thought. And it was true. No matter how many fish you may catch, the feeling of a big one on the other end never gets old.
The bass tried to take off to the right, so Hunter pulled to the left. Then it tried going back to the left, Hunter reeled like hell and as the fish swam past his position on the log he began to pull back to the right. Hunter shuffled across the log to the side he climbed up on. Jumping back down onto the bank he pulled his catch in. As soon as it was close enough he reached down and grabbed in by the lip. He set his rod down on the ground so he could hold up his prize. It felt like it weighed about four and a half pounds, and had a big, full belly. Its scales were a lighter green with a black stripe running along the length of it. Hunter grabbed the lure's hook and pulled it out of the fish. Then he lowered it back into the water, gently moving it from side to side to get the water moving across its gills. within a few seconds the fish jerked free from his grasp and swam back off. Hunter climbed back onto the log and continued to fish. He liked this place. It reminded him of a creek from back home that he would fish every now and then.
Hunter continued to sit there and fish for the next couple of hours. Eventually he sat on the far end of the log with his feet in the water. He had caught quite a few more fish since the first one, although he had now switched over to a plastic worm just to see how it would do. It was, just as he had expected it to be, working just fine. He cast out once more, jigging the worm back to him. He lifted the worm up out of the water, then grabbed it and hooked it onto his rod. He stood up and went back to his tacklebox on his side of the river. Once he had his shoes back on he grabbed his belongings and took off for home. Walking back home he was once again looking for animal tracks. So far he hadn't seen any that looked to be any fresher, or any that where on top of his own. At least for the moment he hadn't. For when he was relatively close to his house he noticed a paw print sitting atop his own footprint, and what he saw disturbed him. He crouched down to look at it better. Now this didn't make a damn bit of sense. Granted neither had anything else he had seen. On the ground in front of him was what appeared to be a lions print. Except bigger, like, way fucking bigger. Spreading out his fingers it was still bigger than his hand. And the worst part was it was still somewhere nearby. All he had with him was his peacemaker and a pocket knife. Hunter decided that it was time to get back home, quickly. Soon he was once again standing on his porch unlocking the door. He put his rod away and thought about what he should do for the rest of the day.
"I guess I'll get Cain his pictures tonight," Hunter said.
Although he did want to go back to that town tonight, he damn sure didn't want to walk all the way back there. He considered how to go about doing this. He got down on his knees and reached under his bed. His hand met a cold piece of metal. He felt around on it till he found the handle, grasping it he gave a mighty pull. Wheels rolled against wood flooring as the safe under his bed rolled out. Now you may be wondering 'why the fuck does Hunter have a fucking safe that rolls out from his bed?'
Well the answer is quite simple dear children. Not only is Hunter's father a complete asshole, he's a fucking little bitch. And because he is such a little bitch when Hunter had said the wanted to buy an AR-15 he had a little bitch fit and completely forbid it. Hell, anything that was even remotely tactical looking was forbidden from his house. Now, Hunter being Hunter, he didn't really give a shit about what his dad thought. Except for when he wanted a motorcycle, he couldn't hide that very well. His little ban on assault style weapons could cause Hunter some problems. Being in the SCP anything could happen at any time. This being the fact of the matter, when shit hits the fan he might not have time to go to the armory at Site 17. So he went and bought an AR any way. Later of course he commissioned this safe to keep anymore he might want in.
Hunter entered his code and lifted the heavy steel lid, which was assisted by gas pistons. Inside was enough firepower to overthrow a small third world country. He reached in and withdrew his latest addition to his collection. A Daniel Defense AR-10 chambered in .308, it had a matte black finish and a eighteen inch barrel. On top sat a black ACOG scope. Then he grabbed an already loaded magazine from the safe and slapped it into the gun. Then he closed the lid and pushed it back underneath. He slipped the rifle's camouflage sling over his shoulders and allowed the gun to hang in front of him.
Hunter walked out onto his front porch and scanned the forest. Surely there was some way for him to get a vehicle out. In front of his house there was no such a place. He already knew to his right there was the trail he could walk down, and behind him there were no trails. But what about to his left? He looked over and there it was. It was on the far side of his house from his driveway but he didn't mind. He walked over towards it, the trail was definitely wide enough to get both his truck and thing through. 'Time to go for a ride,' he thought. He locked his house and climbed into his Volkswagen, he would have loved to take his truck down the trail, however, it was loud. Very loud, and he didn't want anyone who might happen to be within half a mile know he was coming. He pushed in the clutch and turned the key, and was met with the distinct sound of the air-cooled flat 4 in the back. He put it into reverse and backed away from his house, then shoved it into first and turned towards the woods. He bounced along the trail happy as could be, it had been a while since he had gotten to take his Thing offroading.
He had done some work on it since then too. He had welded steel square tubing onto the frame and gave it a two inch lift. He had also replaced the stock sized tires with some bigger offroad tires. And of course he had done a few engine upgrades to give the admittedly weak engine enough power to turn the larger wheels, such as installing dual carburetors and a larger ignition coil. Soon, however Hunter came to his first obstacle. Of course, sooner or later he would come across the same creek he had just been fishing at. Thankfully though, he could look and tell the water was at most a foot deep here. His thing could handle it. He let off the clutch and descended into the water, then pressed the gas just a bit to make it through. It jarred from side to side as the car drove over the rocky bottom of the creek. The water didn't even get inside, even though he didn't have the doors on. Hunter and his Thing rose from the water on the other side. He smiled at the thought that this forty year old car still had it.
It didn't take long for him to see the edge of the forest. He drove a little bit farther before coming to a stop and shutting off the engine. He got out and walked the last twenty yards or so to the tree line, when he got there his new three mile long driveway abruptly ended. In front of him was hundreds of acres of green grass with one dirt road running through it from the town to his right to a farm covered in apple trees to his left. He stood there taking it in, his rifle was still resting across his chest and stomach.
"Ya know, this place is pretty cool." he said.
Deciding that he had been there long enough he got back in the car and turned around to go home. As soon as the trees where thick enough that his headlights shouldn't shine through he shifted out of gear and put on the parking brake. Hunter got out and looked around for two large sticks, after finding some he laid them across each other on the trail to make an X so that he would know when to stop. He could have laid them so that they looked a bit more natural, however, his tire tracks were definitely not natural. He should be fine though. Anyone that comes may not want to walk through the water, and the entrance in the forest is far back enough from the road that no one should be able to tell its there unless they are really looking for it.
Someone may very well know that it's there, but Hunter doubted anyone from the town did. It was too purposefully placed. He took back off towards home, and was there in minutes. It was only two in the afternoon now, he needed to find something to do with his time. He entered his bedroom and got out his laptop. He entered his password and tried to pull up Chrome, however he was met with a 'no internet connection message.' He got up and reset the WiFi router, this however did not fix his problem. He shut off his laptop and put it off to the side. 'Apparently I'm just not going to have internet anymore,' he thought. Oh well, could be worse. He opened up one of the many drawers on his desk and pulled out a tactical flashlight he hadn't put on a gun yet. He pressed on the pressure switch and his bedroom was immediately bathed in bright white light. He turned it back off, satisfied that the battery was still good. He took the light and mounted it as far forward as he could, then ran the pressure switch back to where he could activate it with his thumb.
Several hours later
It was now eight o'clock and the sun had gone down completely, Hunter was walking along the road to the town. He had left his rifle against a tree just at the entrance, he shouldn't need it tonight. His car was parked back at the spot he had marked earlier. No one came knocking on his door, and there were no hoof prints in the dirt. He hadn't been compromised thankfully. Pretty soon he was ducking into back alleyways and jumping fences, trying to find someone he could get a picture of. However, in any of the houses he was passing he could not find a single inhabitant. Either the lights were out or the curtains were closed, which meant he would have to make his way deeper into the town, where all the bars and restaurants were located. He looked over the short fence of the backyard he was currently crouching behind, on the other side was a street, and on the other side of that was a giant tree. Now this was not just any old giant tree, this giant tree had windows with lights on, and a front door. And as an added bonus, the windows wereopen.
However there was a damn streetlight right in front of it.
Hunter started to lose interest in it. He wanted to get in and get out, but then he saw a shadow move from the windows. 'Looks like someone is home,' he thought. But how would he get over there? He looked around, trying to find an opening, then the streetlight started to flicker. He kept his eyes on it, hoping it would happen again, and it did. His eyes widened in surprise. It was about to go out! Then it flickered again and died. He immediately vaulted over the fence and dashed across the street. He made it to the other side and jumped behind a conveniently placed bush. Within a second the light was back on. He slowly made his way over to the closest window, careful not to make a noise. He stood up just to the side of it and looked in. He was nearly frozen by what he was looking at, the same purple haired girl he had seen yesterday was in there. She was sitting at a desk leaning over a book. Speaking of books, there were tons of them, this must have be the town library. Hunter looked towards the door and noticed a sign hanging above it with a book on it. Well no shit, Sherlock,' he thought.
He quickly took out his phone and pulled up the camera, ensuring that the flash was turned off he held it up to the window and took a quick picture of the equine. Then he slid it back into his pocket and crouched back behind his bush, hoping that maybe the light would go out again. So he waited, and waited, and waited, and waited, and damn it, it's been fifteen minutes. He decided that it was time to go. Up the street there was a patch of darkness he could make it across at. He jumped over a few neighbor's fences and crossed the street. He couldn't make it back to the one he originally crossed at so he jumped the one right in front of him. As soon as he landed he looked up and saw a pink mare with a raspberry colored mane sitting at a patio table. She hadn't noticed him yet as she was chugging from what appeared to be a wine bottle. When she was done she dropped the bottle to the ground and looked up. Her already humongous eyes grew even wider and her jaw dropped.
"Shit," Hunter said.
"A stallion!" she exclaimed, her speech incredibly slurred. She then stood up and threw her arms wide and started to stumble towards him. "All my *hic* mare friends told me no *hic* stallion would just jump into my yard, but guess who was *hic* wrong." she said. Hunter was backing away getting ready to run, but then she threw her arms around him.
"Shhhh. You need to be quiet," he said, as the heavily intoxicated mare tried to kiss him.
"Oh, I see how it is. You want to skip the talk and get straight to business," she said, then attempted to make some sort of purring sound. "I like that idea, big boy."
"Please don't call me that."
"So, do you *hic* want to go inside, or do it right here?"
"Listen, you're cute and all, but I really need to go..." he started to say.
"Oh buck, hold on," she said, letting him go and putting her hands on her knees. "Something doesn't feel... BLEGH." Much to no one's surprise she started to throw up. Hunter had never felt this uncomfortable in his life. Hell, he liked getting shot better than this. He reached over and patted her back.
"There, there," he said. After a minute she finally stopped and stood back up. "Better?" he asked. She nodded slowly in response. Hunter took her by the shoulder's and started to lead her inside the house. "Come on, time for bed." The mare wordlessly staggered back into the house. He lead her to the bedroom, which was thankfully in plain sight from the back door. Once in there he pulled back the covers and urged her to lie down, which she did. He threw the covers over her and went into the kitchen, then he came back with a glass of water and put it on her beside table. The mare reached out and grabbed his hand.
"Aren't you going to join me?" she asked, barely holding on to consciousness.
"Noooo," Hunter said, in a quiet voice.
"Why not?"
"Because you're drunk, like, really, really, drunk."
"We don't have to..." Hunter put his hand on top of her head.
"Shh, only dreams now."
"B-but.."
"Shh," he said as she finally fell asleep. "You are going to hate yourself in the morning." On her nightstand he saw a few coins, he picked one up and examined it. On one side it had the number five with the word bits underneath it, and on the other side was some sort of crest with the sun and moon on it. He stuck the coin in his pocket, he may need it later. He went back into her kitchen, in it was a stove and a refrigerator. Sitting on the counter was a ceramic jug with a cork in the spout, on the front of it was a sticker with X X X on it. He picked up the jug and removed the cork, then he took a sniff of the contents. He reared his head back as the smell of apples, cinnamon, and alcohol hit his nostrils. "Is this what I think this is?" he asked no one in particular. Then he tilted the jug back and took a swig. His taste buds were overwhelmed with the taste of the apples and cinnamon, then the alcohol kicked in as it slid down his throat, and when I say kicked, I mean kicked. "Holy shit," he said putting the cork back in. It was definitely apple pie moonshine. "Fuck it. This is mine now."
He left the mares house, locking the door behind him. Soon he was back outside the town, and within an hour he was walking back into his house. He set his rifle down next to the couch and went to put his jug on the counter. Before he did though he took another swig. Then he pulled out his phone and sent the picture of that purple chick (Twi, was it?) to Cain. Then he took a picture of the coin and sent that as well. He went into his bedroom and removed his clothes, and put his phone on the charger. He stared up at the ceiling for a bit, thinking about everything. Soon his eyes grew heavy and he started to fall asleep.
'God, I hope that mare won't remember anything tomorrow.'