Prologue
The streets were empty this late at night, especially during a Hunt. A man scrambled through the metallic streets, screaming for mercy. Behind him, a call of hounds stretched across the vast mechanical city. In the distance, one could hear chants.
’The Hunters are out!’ They screamed, as the darkly etched world shuddered, and rain began to fall. The man started to scream again, and he ran down a dark, poorly lit alleyway. The metal beneath him was slick, and even though he kept close to the wall and out of the way of drips, occasionally he could slip. He would arise with burns on his face and hands, his clothes shredded and torn. A howl was heard again, and the man turned to face the monsters who stood at the edge of the alley. A person stood behind them on a simplistic dark red chariot, with leather threads dangling off the side. Something glinted on the threads and the man’s face fell dramatically as the teeth came into view. He stared up at the charioteer and let out an earnest sob. The Charioteer stood at about average height with no other indication to who or what they were. A light grey poncho sat on their shoulders and covered their body from the neck down to their knees in a tidy triangle shape, their clothed arms exposed from the elbow down. Their face was wrapped up in a black fabric with goggles keeping the acid from their eyes. The man’s trembling form struck the ground as he forced his forehead against the cold metal.
’Mercy! I didn’t do what they claim! The evidence is false! I swear it upon my children, the air we breathe and the water we drink. I did not poison her!’ The rider of the chariot said nothing, and stood down from the format of transport. The man kept begging, he prayed, his voice loud in the empty alley.
’Please, Master Protector, hear my plea. I did not harm her, make them understand, I did naught but care and love an-and-’ He was cut off as the charioteer stepped closer, still not speaking to them. The man rose up, staggering backwards. Blood and the scent of burning skin filled the air.
’I beg you! Show mercy!’ The hounds barked and snarled at the man, their furs smoking as the rain wetted them thoroughly.
’The trial was set, and the Hunt lies down to execute the sentence. Bow.’ The Charioteer finally spoke, The man let out a howl of anguish and bowed his head,
’False... The Stalker did it! The stalker who was stalking my Sister please believe me-’ his voice died on the last desperate note, as the chains that had torn through his body retracted slowly. The chains were connected to the Charioteer, their body appearing contorted into impossibly painful positions and their spine twisted. The man’s eyes looked towards the Hunter blankly, and a gurgle echoed through the air, the smell of burning flesh decorating the fabrics that hung outside, originally to dry, now in tatters. The Charioteer let out a tsk sound that was cut between a laugh and a sneer as a large amount of the acidic rain dropped onto their shoulders, burning through the fabric and onto the skin, exposing a tattoo of a chain.
’Escape is inevitable, sleep kindly Sibling slayer, you need not fear us now.’ The Charioteer made no further sound as they walked, deliberately avoiding the eyes staring out the windows nearby. The body was picked up in a rather ungraceful grab and drop movement over the other’s shoulder. Dropping it in the chariot, a sharp crackling sound bounced between the buildings and the rider was off again, riding towards the shimmering buildings in the distance.
Chapter 1
This wasn’t a pretty world. The skies were dark for days, and they lived off artificial sunlight. The vegetation was either plastic or deadly due to the air and the rain. Whatever buildings that were built were made either entirely out of metal and some rare buildings out of stone. They had landed on this planet years before, and all but enveloped it in industrialised buildings. Most of the buildings looked like simple two story houses. A door and four windows facing the street. They weren’t all identical, but held the similar features. Some were crooked, others had very small ground floors but large first floors. Others were literally leaning on another building as its ground floor was falling apart. They all held the same eerie characteristic of closed windows and barred doors.
Here on Pane, even the rich were poor and those who were poor were the ones who suffered the least. A strange turnabout, but that’s how it was.
When the morning came, and the sunglows shone up across the netted sky, many were afraid to open their doors. They knew a Hunt had occurred last night, but didn’t know who it had been. The silent shuffle of the cities citizens was cut short by a dismayed howl. Doors opened as a girl ran through the streets, a smile on her face and a man running after. They were both telling people to open their doors, it was safe. The Hunt was not for them.
’The Hunt was for Chalice! The Hunt was for Chalice!’ Doors opened and a man stopped the girl calling,
’Chalice who girl? Chalice Monag?’ The girl nodded viciously.
’Yes sir! Monag’s father who slaughtered his blood.’ The man looked relieved and hugged the girl tightly before letting her run off again.
’The Hunt was for Chalice!’ She kept calling, as people mingled onto the streets again.
’My, my. The acid sure did a number last night. We’ll have to ask the water-lads to wash the street down again.’ A woman claimed, pushing her door open completely with a metal glove on. A man came out from a bunker, and began to set up a street vendor. He turned to the woman and nodded,
‘Quite. It feels like only yesterday we had a shower…’ The woman let out a hearty laugh, slapping her hand against the metal doorframe.
‘That’s because we did have one yesterday you old fool.’ A few teenagers ran by muttering about a Corpse Queen and the woman grabbed one by his scarf.
‘What was that lad?’ She said boldly, her grip tight as the kid smiled at her nervously.
‘We uh… They said it was the Corpse Queen…’ He finally spoke, his voice low and eyes downcast. The woman however quirked an eyebrow and let go of the boy’s scarf.
‘Off you go, the Halls close soon and your mother hates you being late.’ The teenagers scrambled off in a rush and the man turned to face the woman.
‘I thought they were supposed to warn us when she was out… I didn’t bar my door, I thought it might be the Terror or at least Damneus.’ The woman shook her head,
‘I don’t know, Lok, they are giving her more room to roam now. Her parole is almost over too.’ The man called Lok stiffed at this prospect and looked towards a pitch black tower in the far distance. It was almost directly opposite the shimmering building in the north.
‘She’s about to be taken off the lead eh… I guess we have a lot more to fear again now. Let us hope that the Predators watch her closely. Mosc was… is still a disaster…’ A small blonde haired thing came trotting out of the house and tugged on the woman’s skirt.
‘Mommy, there’s something smelly in the pantry.’ She said, clear brown eyes staring up at her. The woman nodded and turned to her home,
‘Yeshua! Your sister smells something in the pantry, give it a glare would you?’ A relatively young lad hung out the door, his gangly blonde hair sticking to his face.
‘What, ma?’ He said, trying simultaneously to pull a murky green shirt over his head.
‘You and your sister to the pantry. Go!’ She shooed her children inside again and waved goodbye to Lok.
Lok began to wonder down the street as his own children kept the stall ready for the day to begin in earnest. He followed the messenger’s path hearing the excited chatter of the citizens of Pane. He walked into an alleyway and nodded towards a man who lumbered out of the shadows. ‘Damneus.’ Lok said, tipping his head lightly.
‘Lok.’ The man identified as Damneus said, not moving to greet the man.
‘She make it?’ Lok asked, fishing around in his pockets absentmindedly. Damneus shrugged,
‘Hard to tell. She’s in the archives, hidden as always in the piles with her hounds.’ Nodding, as if hearing the news for the hundredth time, Lok handed the other male a small pouch.
‘Should last the month; knowing her, might last a week.’ He let out a grunt as Damneus snatched the pouch from him, giving him a hard stare.
‘Don’t bother giving your opinion on something your simple mind can’t understand.’ Lok’s chest puffed out and he narrowed his eyes,
‘This simpleton is the only one who can provide your group with Journey, so don’t deny my usefulness to you bunch of junki-‘ His sentence was left unfinished as Damneus lifted him up against the wall effortlessly.
‘This was cut. What with?’ He hissed. Lok said nothing, and Damneus dropped him on the floor. A crunch was heard and the vender let out a stifled yelp, his ankle poking out in a strange angle.
‘Fine! Fine! You’ll get the full Journey, two days! After the Fresher Hunts!’ A grunt was heard and Lok was left to shiver in the alley until his sons came to fetch him.
Further down the streets, a secondary messenger ran past a set of large, heavy metal gates with spikes on the top and front of it. Just inside it on a bench sat a hunched over shadow, a bottle hanging loosely from their speckled burnt hands. Leaning back and putting the bottle to their lips, the figure’s body gave out a shudder, the bottle smashing against the ground. They gripped their shoulder tightly and let out a very loud groan. Their shirt slipped to the side to expose a burnt shoulder, with a chain tattoo. They didn’t move anymore, not until a small boy slinked over to the fence and threw a small, clear bag at their feet. The tattooed person looked up at the fence and wriggled their fingers as if trying to say hi, but not even bothering to lift up their arm to do so. The boy who’d thrown the small bag into the fenced area smiled softly. The other didn’t move again and eventually the smiling boy got a disappointed look on their face and moved away, before turning on their heel and running. It was only then that the tattooed person moved down to pick up the clear bag on the ground. Their hands shook, and their dulled out eyes gained a segment of a spark to them. They tilted their head back and popped open the little bag with ease, pouring the crystal like content into their mouth slowly. Their arms dropped suddenly and they began to seizure, their teeth clenched tightly, grinding against themselves as the entire body tensed. Just as suddenly as it had started they slumped, their muscles relaxing and their body going limp.
Damneus had seen this. He had watched. Damneus was always watching. Walking over to the body on the bench, he pulled them forward and hoisted them over his shoulder, gently moving them around his body until he began to trot away from the gate. He followed some winding streets, with other occupants, older ones, following him with their gaze, clouded or clear. Everyone seemed to know where to look. Damnueus stopped eventually and entered a large building that was leaning heavily on its neighbour. The building had no windows save for one and it was large, square stained glass variant. The pictures showed a person dressed in all white with a red cross above their head, their feet were bare and the red cross was surrounded by sunglow bugs, their apparent light making the red cross appear… righteous. The doors were closed and there was naught but silence for the longest time, with the natural animal life of Pane occasionally scurrying past or flying. The beasts that inhabited the air were rarely seen as they detested sunglows, and the city had an abundance of them. The Old Quarter had less, as they simply didn’t need them as much, so the fact that the monsters would soar above that section like vultures no longer unsettled anyone. The Old Quarter would span for miles, but for the most part it was overgrown and abandoned, buildings collapsing and towers crumbling onto the ambling population below. In the distance, in the middle of the town was a shining building, with an almost blinding beam of light going through the middle of two twisted towers. Pane grew to life slowly, people eventually entering and leaving buildings at a calm and constant rate. Miles away, behind giant metal walls, lay the District. Repeat offenders, who became repeat survivors would serve here eventually. Just like some Hunters, they could be forced to move from their homes if the Predators deemed it best, or they could move at their own inclination. Why? Because in District, you had the factories, the industries. The dangerous machines, and the little nooks and crannies that hid things very, very well. District was locked away from the rest of Pane for that very reason. People would go in, but one did not come out, not even Hunters were allowed to go there, not without the permission of the District Overseer.