DARK HUNTER

The guardian had created him out of the blood and dark spirit of a man who called himself John Roxton. He *was* darkness. A predator. He had only one purpose and that was to hunt relentlessly, stalking the man who gave him existence, using anything at his disposal to strike out, cause terror and eventually kill this worthy adversary. Dark Hunter didn't entirely understand why it was he was being driven, why his mistress demanded vengeance, but it didn't matter. He didn't care. He wasn't supposed to understand. He was just there, given immense strength by she who owned him, to serve a function. It was up to him to carry out Oseena's commands. He would do so without question. Roxton must suffer.

He hadn't meant to ensnare the jungle girl or wound the scientist. Minor miscalculations. Both. But if they planned to fight by Roxton's side then they too would suffer. The man's friends were a hindrance to his goal. Only Roxton mattered. His fear, entrapment, agony and eventual death were paramount. If Dark Hunter had to kill them all to obtain his objective, so be it.

Yet unbeknownst, through their interference, they had shown him the way. Roxton was formidable but he had a weakness. He cared for the others like him. Eventually, they would undermine him. Dark Hunter could feel a special attachment, a scattered bit of personal knowledge, but could not entirely focus until he had stepped foot into Roxton's lair, the treehouse.

The scientist, brilliant but naïve, and the woman, beautiful but sharp-tongued, spoke to him. They greeted him as if he were their friend. They were concerned. He watched and listened, waiting for Roxton's return, taking in their questions in silence, feeling their frustration when he did not answer. Then Dark Hunter snapped to attention the moment the elevator sounded, a rush of adrenaline over-coming him. Anticipation. He felt as a wild animal feels when its unaware prey comes into view, stumbling into a trap the expert himself had lain. Any moment now ... Attack!

Roxton on the ground. The huntress fights. Push her away. Roxton. Ready to plead for mercy. This is good. This is what Oseena requires. A chair to his back. Marguerite. She must die. NO. A shout from Roxton. No, not Marguerite. He protects her, protects them all, and the bullet detonates. A mere flesh wound to his side, just below the ribs. Not enough. Grasped from behind. Another hindrance! The scientist must die .... Unbalanced. Falling ...

Prey is getting away!

Once again they are where they should be. Outside. Dark Hunter, in the jungle where he is master, feels confident. Yet, Roxton has managed the unthinkable, even in his weakened state. 'Wounded.' Dark Hunter thinks as he takes care of his injury. Something is off center. He is the victor here, the stronger of two warriors, yet somehow Roxton has gained a momentary upper hand. It must be remedied.

'A lure.' Dark Hunter thinks, grasping onto a bit of instinctual knowledge. What is needed is a distraction to catch Roxton off guard. Special bait. An idea forms: Friends. Companions. That flash of a lavender blouse. Her perfume .... *His woman.*

He lifts his face to the wind and sniffs. He recognizes her scent and knows he need not go far.

Both women had caught on as he stalked them. They ran for fear of their lives. The fair female, the jungle girl, attempted to fight him and if he wasn't so driven with purpose he might have found her efforts amusing and exult in her death. But he had no time. He dispensed with her quickly and centered his full attention on the darker female. *Marguerite*. She, with the large, sensitive eyes and a serpent's tongue. The biting words, he knew, were a mask for fear.

Because he was a part of Roxton, cognizant of all his prey's memories, Dark Hunter accepted he cared deeply for this one female. He didn't fully understand the emotion and stared at her, his gun drawn, attempting to see in her what it was Roxton saw. She was comely for her kind, he thought, but what about the woman would make a man like Roxton brave all dangers to see her safe? She snapped and growled at him as a cornered animal might and, in his ... *Roxton's* memories she had shown him great disdain ... but also rapport ... and something more he did not comprehend.

He had no time. Roxton was close. Dark Hunter sensed him.

Grasping the woman by the throat, effectively silencing her prattle, he pushed her along a worn trail then, moments later, shoved her unceremoniously forward against the bulk of a thick tree. The impacted caused her to cry out but also stunned her into silence. He quickly bound her wrists behind her then pressed into the female's spine with his powerful hands, keeping her still, listening to the sounds of the jungle, for Roxton.

His prey was close. Dark Hunter's super-sensitive eyes scanned the jungle and he could see where Roxton was proceeding. He touched the comforting bulk of his six shooter then roughly grasped the female. Dark Hunter rounded on Roxton, watching his intended victim, reveling in the very notion that he did not know he was being observed. He waited for Roxton to touch foot on the path then pushed the female forward into view.

A moment then:

"Run! Run! Run!"

"Marguerite!"

Dark Hunter could not have asked for a better reaction. Bullets exploded from his gun as Roxton raced forward and the female screamed. He pulled her in front of him as a shield, sensing Roxton would care more for her safety, for her life, than his own. He had seen memory after memory of Roxton, foolish and weak man that he was, saving she and the others lives. He could have subdued each of them; hunted them, enslaved them, hung them up on that treehouse home's walls as trophies -- and shown all on the plateau that he was master. Yet, he hadn't. He was a slave to his emotion and a sense of fair play, his weakness, and a fool.

Roxton, now with a serious leg wound, would die. But not yet.

They would meet again in his birthplace, where Oseena could see what Roxton had been reduced to, and they would have a final showdown. Dark Hunter pushed the sobbing female forward. He still had need of her. Roxton would follow as long as she remained alive.

"You know who I am, don't you, what I mean to him? You look like him but that's as far as it goes. Maybe in a million years you'll be able to understand but you will *never* be the man he is!"

He pulled the thin leather strap tight around her delicate wrists, bound as they were against the bleached-smooth rib of a long dead brontosaurus, and felt an iota of pleasure when she cried out. They were in the dinosaur graveyard now, his birth place, and all he need do is wait. Roxton would come and he would soon be at Dark Hunter's mercy.

"You're nothing but an animal, do you hear me?" the woman shouted, "A savage, brainless predator! The very antithesis of him!"

He tried to ignore her biting words. The female's constant chatter was becoming tiresome. The sooner Roxton appeared the better. Dark Hunter planned to kill the woman as Roxton watched. Surely, Oseena would allow him that one small pleasure. To still that full, sensual mouth and close those lovely gray-blue eyes forever ... Dark Hunter, stunned, tried to shake the unfamiliar thoughts that were entering into his brain. No, it wasn't possible. He couldn't actually be finding this female attractive. He was a predator, as she said. He did not yearn as other men did, touched by the deceptive beauty of a woman. He was beyond those puny emotions.

Still, even he had to give her points for courage. Not many who had witnessed all that Dark Hunter did to her friends would continue to waylay him with words of anger and spite when she knew he could kill her in an instant, break her neck, and not feel the slightest glimmer of grief while doing it. 'That long, smooth neck ...' he thought. It had felt like silk against his hand when he held her earlier ....

"You feel it, don't you?"

Dark Hunter turned to look at her, gripping his rifle, unsure why it was the female's tone had sudden turned soft and pliant.

"You feel the emptiness. The difference between the two of you. You want to be him."

No! Not possible! She was speaking nonsense.

He walked closer to the female ... *Marguerite* and stared at her, wanting to tell her to be quiet but not knowing how. The way she spoke now was so comforting and as he listened he suddenly began to know what it might be that drew John Roxton to her. She was strong and fiercely protective of what was hers but also possessed qualities Dark Hunter could not fathom. She was pitying him, telling him that she understood his loneliness and when she spoke there was such ... emotion. Such certainty and understanding.

"You want to be kind ... gentle ... capable of more than mindless violence."

'I want to grow.' he unexpectedly fantasized and fought it. It was not his function to ...

"I love him and I never told him." she whispered, looking up into his eyes, searching. "If there's anything of him in you maybe I can love that too."

No, there was none of John Roxton in him. He was the hunter and Roxton was his prey ... He could listen no more. He had to get ready for Roxton. He would come soon and Dark Hunter would be ready for him.

Still, he looked over his shoulder at the female, watching as she leaned in emotional agony against the dinosaur bone. She said she loved Roxton and Dark Hunter knew, just from reviewing his mental records of the man, that he loved her too. She tried to explain to him what love was but it made no sense. Not to a hunter. Not to an animal. The couple had shared so much, he knew. Yet, they had never mated. He found this odd but also, in some strange way, it please Dark Hunter immeasurably.

He didn't have to kill her. Roxton's death would be enough.

Although he looked elsewhere, seeming to search for his soon to arrive victim, Dark Hunter's attention was on his prisoner. Her words held such promise. She was speaking slowly and clearly for his benefit. She wanted him to understand.

"Come here. Closer." She was smiling.

Dark Hunter approached as she requested. He didn't have to do this ... but couldn't help himself. She was alluring and stirred something deep inside of him.

"Touch my face. Feel my hair. Don't be afraid."

He lifted a hand, his fingertips very gently brushing the soft, accessible skin of her cheek then continuing on to feel her silky dark hair. He noted she winced but just for a moment. Perhaps he had been too rough. She was a delicate female after all. But she would be strong enough to carry his seed, to give birth to his offspring ...

"Do you feel it? The warmth? The love?"

Yes, yes. He did feel it. Something miraculous, something the guardian never told him he could experience. This desire.

"I'm yours. Untie me and we'll be together always."

Yes, yes. 'I want this.' All thoughts of Roxton were not gone but pushed to the back of his mind. He would take his woman, be with her, experience all the love and warmth she promised, and she would be his forever. All Dark Hunter's and no one else's. He would press his lips to hers, feel her body against his, and they would mate. She would bring him great satisfaction and she would give him ... children. Strong young hunters like their sire.

Doubt crept in for just a moment while he reached to his belt for the hunting knife. He passed it slowly before her, closely watching her expression, wondering if she might be having second thoughts. But he saw only her resolve. *Marguerite* was his. He bent slightly at the waist, the blade turned to part the ropes at her wrists ...

"Marguerite!"

Roxton! Dark Hunter turned in the direction of the shout, suddenly remembering his purpose, why he had been created. He moved away from the female. He would come back to her when this was done. He walked to the outer apron of the graveyard, where the thinly lined row of trees rested, and stood behind their shielding branches. He observed as the wounded Roxton approached his woman, touching her, making sure she had come to no harm. Then he kissed her. Dark Hunter, for the first time in his short life, felt jealousy. He was amazed by Roxton's eagerness and the female's response. They spoke with one another then Roxton moved to unbind her from the bone.

No. He could not have it. Dark Hunter was the only being that would release her. Pulling his rifle, he approached and watched as Roxton moved away from the woman, lifting his hand gun. 'I could shoot him right now ...' a small voice in Dark Hunter's brain stated. He glanced once at the female. An animal, she had called him. She was right. What do wild animals do when faced with such a dilemma? One female, two males that both want her ...

Hand to hand combat. May the strongest win. He shrugged out of his outer wear and weapons, all the while watching Roxton's incredulity.

"Oh damn, if you insist." Roxton spoke in a tired voice, throwing away his gun.

They battled fiercely. Warrior to warrior.

He could hear the female's shouts. She rallied behind Roxton. He was her chosen even after all the things she had said to Dark Hunter. She lied. She loved only Roxton ... She would not be his. Not like she said. Not ever.

Perhaps she had distracted him with her wiles or maybe he had just lost his purpose. Whatever the case, Dark Hunter did not feel so bad when Roxton hit him hard with the triceratops bone, thus gaining the upper hand. He lay flat on his back, awaiting the crushing blow. Most certainly Roxton would kill him now. Dark Hunter's prey had turned on him and would now destroy him. It was the law of the jungle.

Nothing.

He sensed Roxton falling away. Then, shortly thereafter he could hear the female. It seemed she had gotten loose finally and was praying for or comforting Roxton. A new surge of adrenaline coursed through Dark Hunter's body. It was not over yet. While he still had the will Roxton would be his to dispose of. He would hear his cry for mercy and Dark Hunter would take the female, with or without her consent!

He stood quickly and looked at the man and woman as they stared up at him from their sitting positions in the sand, holding one another. Comforting each other. Afraid. 'Do it while you can,' he thought, 'because soon you will both be dead ..."