He felt it. Eltiask had been lying motionlessly on the couch, oscillating between consciousness and unconsciousness as his mind was still getting used to being free from that heavy restraint that his instincts had been for years. It wasn't easy at all. However, he felt it. He felt the hunt. It wasn't surprising, though: he himself was a hunter, designed for the hunt. His eyes shot open, revealing for a moment a deep golden color before returning to their recently shown but not acquired bright turquoise. He sat up, holding his head with his left hand. An intense and persistent headache had taken control of his mind moments after he had withdrew from the forest in a failed attempt to hunt for food. He inhaled deeply before standing up, standing still for a moment before taking his bow from the table and hanging it over his left shoulder. Then, he proceeded to exit his cabin silently, left head still holding his head in pain.

It was easy to track her down, to say the least. Or maybe it was just Eltiask being used to follow trails and hunt. That could be the main explanation of why he had found her trail so easily. He followed her trail into the forest for about five minutes before finding her lying unconscious on the ground, next to the dead body of the same deer he had encountered before. Eltiask sighed gently as he dropped to his knees, checking for her pulse. It was there, definitely there. Weak, but still present. "You can end this right now, Eltiask. It's just a slash away from being over." His headache increased its intensity, causing him to grunt lowly in pain. "The hell is wrong with me?" Eltiask took a moment, trying to suppress the pain coursing through his whole mind (and it felt as if his mind was telling his body to burn). After a minute or so, he stood up with the woman in his arms and made his way back to his cabin. When he got there, he placed her on the couch, covered her with a blanket, and returned to the forest, aiming to retrieve the deer's body and begin the cleaning and skinning process.

He had found the body just where he had first seen it. Skillfully, he carried it back home and went to the back side of his cabin, where he kept all the instruments needed for skinning. He began skinning the deer, doing it carefully so he could use the skin for leather or clothing (which varied accordingly to the season he hunted), and then began taking care of the meat itself. He did it slowly and meticulously with expert hands, using his survival knife in ways he had learned to use it while in the island. He had lived what most people only said: necessity is the key to imagination. While he had taken with him some material, nothing he had was aimed for hunting. His knife, after several failed attempts in which he had to survive out of fruits sometimes for weeks, had become the most handy skinning tool. Blood ran down his hands as if the deer was crying scarlet tears, to which Eltiask simply shivered. It wasn't easy, not at all. His mind remembered how to do these things, but his soul did not. He felt as if he had somehow been lost in darkness while his body did things on instinct. "Either I get used to this or I'll end up killing myself." After saying so, the hunter simply smiled sadly. "As if I could..."

The pounding in her head was the first thing that Melanie became aware of. She opened her eyes and quickly shut them again with a groan. Too bright. The pounding intensified for a moment. She lifted her hand to shove the blanket over her face and retreat back into the dark warmth of her sleep, but even that hurt. Melanie realized how physically drained she was--one of the worst side effects of her mental capabilities.

Very rarely had she taken it that far. But then again, she had never killed until now. She sighed. Now that her body acknowledged that she was safe, the adrenaline stopped pumping, and she was exhausted. Survival was no longer the problem. No, getting home was.

Melanie tried to get up, but her muscles protested. She tried to use her telekinesis to lift herself up, but only succeeded in making the blanket fly off of her. For the life of her, she couldn't make it come back. She had never been this physically and emotionally drained, and now, she was practically useless. She tried to push herself up again, and this time succeeded in pushing herself off the couch. This was frustrating her greatly. An angry burst of energy coursed through her. The next thing she knew, the couch had been pushed to the other side of the room and had toppled over. But she still couldn't push herself into sitting position. "Ugh, stupid," she murmured to herself.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Eltiask said loud enough for her to hear him from the outside. He was almost done with the skinning process, leaving him with all the traces of a butcher: blood everywhere, even his face. His pale hands were so covered in blood they had turned crimson for a while, giving his already ghostly appearance a serial-killer shadow that clearly hit the spot. After finishing with the skinning process, he went to wash his hands as best as he could before entering his cabin. As he walked inside, he cleaned his survival knife on his black sweatshirt and then sheathed it. When he arrived to the living room, though, he smiled with ease. For once, Eltiask hearing was superb. Most of us are able to hear and determine from which place the sound source is located. That's how our hearing goes. In his case, his hearing went further. His mind had been enhanced to the point in which he could perceive even the faintest sounds from below 3 KHz and 20 dB, up to 6 KHz and 130 dB without hurting his ears. Even more so, with the sounds he received he was able to create a mental map of where the source had originated. In his brain, he could clearly point out obstacles and sound sources without much of an effort. This was also complemented with his night vision. His retina had been enhanced with much more rods than the average human retina, so his eyes had that distinct "cat glow" in the night. Being outside and skinning the deer, Eltiask heard the whole mayhem inside the house and even pictured it, but it wasn't as interesting as what he had in front of his eyes at that moment.

"Or maybe you'll just end up like this." He smiled gently and made his way to the couch, pushed it to the correct position, picked up the blanket, and threw it over the woman. He sat down for a moment before realizing he didn't know her name. "What's your name? You already know mine, but I don't know yours."

He was...amused. But not in a horribly sadistic way like he had been for the last few days. Melanie stared up at him, confused for a second, not able to match the smile to the person. His smile was strangely nice. Comforting even. It made him look younger, less haunted. He should smile more.

"Thank you," Melanie mumbled when he put the blanket back over her. "And sorry for messing the place up." She struggled to get up, finally managing to push herself up into sitting position on the floor. She tugged the blanket over her, covering her shoulders.

"Uh... my name. It's Rose. Rose Melanie Lane. Everybody just calls me Melanie. I've been trying to get it changed for a while now, but for some reason, my request keeps coming back from city hall denied," she answered with a sad smile. "The only person to ever call me that is my doctor. Please don't ever call me Rose... it brings up bad memories."

Rose. The man who did this to her and many other girls gave her that name. They were each named after a flower. Slightly more humane than being given a number, but it was a reminder of what the had been through the first six years of her life. She tried desperately to remember the other girls. What they looked like, what their names were, what their abilities were, but every time she tried, a headache would stop her. A defense mechanism.

"It's alright," Eltiask said with the ghost of a smile still possessing his lips as he stared at her. She looked completely drained, both physically and mentally. "And you still wonder why? You bloody murderer..." All traces of his smile disappeared, replaced by a stiff facade of emotionlessness. Yes, it had been like that for a while now. There seemed to be a part of his mind that loved torturing him, whispering all the mistakes he had made and counting all the lives he had taken away in the past five years. The hunter sighed deeply, lowering his gaze. He wasn't sure how he was going to get by, but he had to. There was no other option: death wasn't a way out.

"Nice to meet you, Melanie. Don't worry, I won't bring up bad memories. We all have ours," Eltiask didn't raised his gaze as he spoke, and even his punch line didn't seem fun at all. He knew Melanie had seen all his memories. He simply was sure of it.

"Yes we do," Melanie replied quietly. She looked down. "But I guess I am luckier than you are. My memories are locked away, defense against childhood trauma. Ever since I was adopted, I had a relatively good life. A loving family. A home. Then I decided to take a trip to my supposed home land. I tried to find my birth mother. Seems like I shouldn't have looked a gift horse in the mouth. Now I'm here." Melanie looked up at him. For the first time ever, she wanted to reach out to somebody else. She felt what he felt, but she wasn't in pain. Their minds connected in a way that didn't drive her near insanity.

"I'm sorry for what I did to you. I didn't know it was going to happen. It never happened before. I mean, granted that no one has ever tried to kill me before, but also, I've never expanded into someones mind and memory before. It's usually worked the other way around." She pulled herself onto the couch and settled beside Eltiask. "I never meant to bring up your bad memories. And... I'm sorry for shooting you."

"You've seen my life. You know how it's been. To say I've been unlucky is an understatement," Eltiask's voice had this ghastly ringing in it, hiding the true bitterness and rage he had learned so well to hide from the rest of the world from an early age. He kept his gaze lowered, knowing very well his iris was fluttering from a bright turquoise to a deep golden color. He clenched his fists as memories began to course through his mind once more: memories of his younger years, of his time with the Marine Corps as a med student, of his time in the research proyect...

"It's always been like this. Even from the start of my miserable life, it's always been sadness, madness, and pain. It's become a part of who I am. I can't deny it," the hunter exhaled deeply as his massive frame shuddered under the mental strain he was putting himself under. Images rushed in from of his eyes, swirling and twirling in his mind, twisting his perception of reality. Unconsciously, his mind reached for his composite bow, clutching it in his left hand. "I am pain, sadness, sorrow, and rage."

As the memories entered his mind, they went into Melanie's too. She flinched away, throwing up her walls again. Funny how she never noticed they were down until intense emotions coursed through Eltiask. She took a deep breath and searched for words to comfort him.

"See, I think the world works in opposites. That whole ying yang thing, you know? Sadness, sorrow, rage, pain, they are all extremes. You would not know these existed without happiness, tranquility and comfort. So there has to be one point or another where you have felt the opposites to have been able to understand those emotions," she replied. "I am sure there has been one point in your life where you have been happy. It might not be very abundant in your lifetime, but even a little bit can mean so much."

"Maybe the minute I was born. Aside from that, I've only lived harrowing events," Eltiask said briskly as he stood up, composite bow in hand, and made his way to the door. Before leaving, though, he whispered something. "Make yourself at home." He then proceeded to go through the door and lose himself among the small pine forest surrounding his home.

He dashed through the forest for reasons unknown even to himself. He just needed to get away. His quiver was still strapped around his chest while his bow hanged from his utility belt. The hunter just dashed without a destination, he just wanted to get lost within the forest and become one with it. Then, the unthinkable happened. The trained assassin tripped and fell bluntly on the ground, leaving him breathless for some moments. Once his lungs had regained their normal oxygen intake, though, he remained there. "Why? Why now?"


---------- Post added 01-03-2013 at 06:55 PM ----------

*bumpage*

Melanie watched him leave, with a slight frown on her face. He was obviously going through a rough time, but she didn't want to push him too far. She let out a sigh and rested against the couch.

Home. This was not home. She had spent the past few days trying to run away and hide from a ruthless killer, who she strangely now befriended. Melanie was confident that if the situation were pleasant, less severe, then she would have been able to take time and appreciate the beauty of such an untouched world. At home she would have her dark room and photo studio. Her brothers and parents would occasionally drop in on her. Her friends would burst in on her and drag her out to the city to have dinner and try to set her up with a stranger at a bad. But here, it was almost too quiet. Haunted. She shook her her head. No, this would never be home.

With a groan, Melanie pushed herself off the couch, wandering around and to the kitchen. She was hungry, but felt like it wasn't her place to cook anything. How did one cook deer anyways? Melanie ran her hand through her hair. It was so icky, covered in blood, natural grease and sweat. Now that she had time to think and breathe, Melanie realized just how disgusting she was.

Rain. As Eltiask was walking through the forest, big drops of water began to fall down from the skies. Instinctively, the hunter gazed upwards, staring at the dark clouds towering above his being. He remained there for some time, completely immobile, while he recalled what had happened in his life. From his early days, all he knew was pain, sadness, and sorrow. His father was an abusive individual who hit his mother almost everyday. Also, he was a total alcoholic, lost to the sweet intoxication beer gave him in order to forget his responsibilities. Due to his father spending all his money on alcoholic beverages, his mother and himself were left to look out for themselves in any way possible. That never worked out because his father usually took his mother's money by brute force when he arrived completely drunk and lost. Eltiask would cry and crawl over to his mother when his father was done hitting her and left their flat.

While growing up, his father became much more violent to the point he also hit Eltiask after beating his mother down to the floor without a care in the world. He even caused Eltiask's brother's dead inside his mother's womb. Several years had to pass before the hunter was able to truly grasp this whole concept. When he did, his life was destroyed for a second time. His life continued to be like that until he turned sixteen. While working at a coffee shop to get some money, his father, drunk as usual, arrived home demanding money to buy more beer. His mother was there but had no money, to which his father simply replied beating her as usual. This time, though, things went differently. While hitting her, his father somehow managed to damage his mother's spleen, causing her severe internal bleeding which led to her death. When Eltiask arrived home, he found her mother's lifeless body lying on the floor, covered with blood and a sorrowful look in her eyes. All he could do was call the police and wait for a miracle to happen.

For two years he "lived" under his father's custody. That was the time Eltiask learned to fight for his survival. Every time his father arrived drunk and tried to get some money from him, the hunter would fight back. He would fight back with so much hate and rage it sometimes scared him. He later discovered one afternoon a strange eagerness to fight his father every night. This unsettled him deeply, but couldn't ignore it felt amazingly great to do so. The satisfaction of releasing his anger at someone was something he wouldn't forget easily. However, when he turned 18, he immediately disappeared from his hellish home and enrolled the army. That's when things got seriously ugly.

The hunter has always had a sharp and quick mind, swift to grasp concepts and apply them to his real life. While in the Navy, he enrolled into the Marine Corps Medical School. Soon enough, people started noticing him, either for his quick and sharp mind or his sturdy constitution: he could endure almost anything his superiors threw at him with little or no effort at all. It was a perfect situation: people liked him, he liked being pushed to his limits. However, that's what got him into the mess he was in.

Due to his natural resistance and endurance, higher military operatives focused on top secret projects handpicked him for their next "bioweapon of choice". There was a problem, though: the subject was a bright medical student who knew his sciences perfectly well and would totally complain if something clicked in his mind as dangerous. They had to fool him, and that they did well. With lies, Eltiask voluntarily entered the project and signed a "no obligation" declaration that freed the Marine Corps of any responsibilities if anything went wrong while doing the experiments. The experiments not only went wrong. They were a complete and total success.

Their bioweapon was created based on what they had seen the perfect male model available within their grasp. They didn't notice, though, that they created their own demise after forcing the subject to undergo further genetic manipulation and enhancement. The pain which caused said procedures had been so intense that it had locked the rational part of the subject, completely cutting synapses between the prefrontal area and the rest of his brain. This resulted in a feral attitude, completely aggressive based on survival instincts. Several safety measures had to be taken. The subject's enhancements had worked perfectly, increase muscle mass and base strength as well as reflexes and sensitivity to his environments. Day and night he was kept under vigilance in the safest cells the Marine Corps could afford, always watched by a whole platoon of black ops ready to kill him if needed. He remembered that perfectly well.

One night, though, they made the greatest mistake ever. Somehow, the cell's reinforced material had become rusty. The hunter noticed this an exploited it to his advantage. In less than an hour, he had already killed half of the people inside the facility and was on a rampage. He made his way, killing anything that moved, and initiated the self-destruct protocol in case of emergency. After that, nothing was known of their human bioweapon. The case was completely closed and archived, never to be read or mentioned.

Until now.

Eltiask sighed deeply as he noticed his clothes completely drenched in rain. He couldn't point out how long he had been outside in the rain, but he knew he had to go back. His mind was still flooded of those memories he hadn't remembered in quite a while, but his essence was serene. It was strange. When he got back home, he entered silently and immediately took off his sweatshirt, throwing it into the bathroom. He walked around the house shirtless, a bad habit he had acquired while living alone, and went into the living room. "If you want to take a shower, do so." The hunter walked up to the window and leaned his massive frame on it, watching over his island as he had previously done for five long years.

dsaljadlijdaohdashudsaiohdsaijodsaiohdsaoihdasioh sorry!