Mira knew the moment she gazed into all those eyes that she and the other survivors would die. "
It's been an honor," she told the others, the loudest she had spoken in months. She took her cross necklace from around her neck and wrapped it around her left hand. If she was going to punch these sonsofbitches, she would do so with God at the left and Silverfang at the right.
She was in the middle of fighting harder than she had ever before when her weapon decided it was a great moment to speak up. She really didn't understand him sometimes. "
I've always cared for and admired you," the machete whispered as she sliced through creature after creature. They were constantly grabbing at her, slicing her arms, her legs, anywhere they could reach.
She and her weapon had not always seen eye to eye. Oftentimes, he had always been hard on her, always telling her what he thought, and pushing her to try harder. He had been relentless but an essential part of her training. She wouldn't be half the hunter she was not without him. He had always been more than a weapon to her. He was a friend, and even admitting that seemed to fall short of what she felt. He was family. More than she had ever known before this life.
"
Now's not the time to be growing soft on me," she teased, just before taking a huge blow to the chest from one of the creatures. She was thrown backwards from the force and the impact of hitting the ground knocked the air out of her body for, and forced her to let go of her weapon. Silverfang slid across the ground coming to a stop six feet away. Her chest burned but she forced herself to roll over and crawled to close the distance between her weapon.
"
Always so stubborn," he whispered. "
You are not the first hunter I've been with." It was an unusual conversation and there couldn't be a worse time to have it. It was as if he was admitting to having past lovers, though that probably wasn't far off from what they were. The bond between a hunter and her weapon was a personal one. She was closer to her weapon than she had ever been towards another person. Hell, they even fought like lovers but once they were on the battlefield, they became in sync. Never had they fought in battle. It was there that they became one, each complimenting the other. Each balancing their weaknesses with the other's strength.
"
You have a fire in you. It never burned out even during your darkest, coldest hours. Hours where you doubted yourself, even doubted what you were doing here. It's only human to question yourself but you always felt like you were betraying me, betraying us with your questions. You never did, love. You had to make some tough decisions and you always made the right one. I got to watch an awkward, naive and young girl that didn't even know how to hold me properly.. blossom into a brave, strong woman that was never afraid of a challenge or a fight. You never forgot your fallen friends and you never lost sight of your true path. I've never seen such courage before, especially in one so young." He spoke softly and honestly so no jest or jab came to her lips. Instead, she began to cry. When she was done, there was no more regret. There was only now. She brought the hilt of her weapon to her mouth and kissed it softly. She didn't have to tell him how much she cared. He had always known.
She pushed herself up and turned to face what seemed an endless blackness, save for eyes that stood out against the darkness. Her body was covered in blood, cuts, bruises and dirt. It was hard to tell where one wound ended and another began.
"
One last round, my friend. For old time's sake," she whispered. She carefully untangled the cross necklace from her left hand and used it to tie Silverfang to the right. It was shoddy work, but she hoped it would do the trick. She had lost a lot of blood from the wound to her chest and she could feel her life and energy slowly slipping away. She didn't have much time left. She didn't even stop to think how comical it was to tie a cross around a weapon that had the soul and mind of a vampire. He didn't seem to complain though, this was her moment and he would not take away from that.
With Silverfang in hand, she turned and ran towards the blackness. Every muscle in her body screamed, every wound ached, and she was in so much pain but still she ran on. They had already began circling her as she neard them. With the very last of her strength, she jumped!
She never got to feel the familiar slicing of her weapon tearing into the abominations, or hear them crying out in pain. She had died before that as the moment her weapon first made impact, dozens of claws were already tearing at her body. Her death had been quick but they did not stop until her body lay in pieces on the ground.
Laying amidst a small pile of limbs and internal organs rested an arm cut short at the elbow. It was mangled beyond recognition save for the weapon still attached to the hand. It really was such a simple weapon. The blade was silver but other than that, it didn't really stand out. Even the hilt was unadorned and was mostly black with a few streaks of red upon it.
When his hunter had been much younger, she had often teased him for being such a plain weapon. What a silly girl she had been. She had been so jealous of all the bigger, flashier hunter weapons.
He had never told her why he had chosen her. It probably would have angered her as women were especially finicky.
She had been a short, chubby girl with an attitude. She wasn't the prettiest girl, or the thinnest, tallest, fastest or even strongest. At first glance, nothing would stand out except the blue of her eyes that didn't seem to fit against her dark skin and hair. She had a hard life even before becoming a hunter and because of it, she had a reckless abandonment that stood out. She also had an inner fire to her and it burned so bright it was no wonder she became part of the sun division. She was born to fight. Over the years, she transformed. It reminded him of a butterfly emerging from a cocoon. Through sheer hard work, the fat and turned into muscle and she became both strong and fast.
The simple truth was that while they both would appear plain and simple to their peers, they had found each other beautiful.
The next hunter he chose would have some very big shoes to fill.
(( Mira Morales has died. ))
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