Chapter 5: Road of the Broken Dreams

Eliot’s Point of View

When I was a child I used to believe my grandma was the best woman in my life. She was kind and gentle but I guess you would never judge a person by their outer appearance. She was the worst and she’s not even related to me. All I knew was that she was something and my mom entrusted me with her. 

“Eliot!” I heard her screaming out of my room. “Get up!”

As soon as I heard her voice, I  woke up and scrambled on the edge of my mattress, under my threadbare blanket. The scuffs on the walls were all too familiar, as was the shabbiness of the few items carefully set in their places. But as miserable as it was to look at, I'd prefer to stay in the unkempt little room than face what was outside of it.

Unfortunately, I didn't have the luxury of doing that. I swung my legs down to the floor and quickly dressed. I wasn't fast enough.

"Eliot!" The harping screech of my name echoed from below. Not wasting time, I hurried down before she had a chance to get even angrier with me. I rushed through my door, down the hall, and down the stairs.

As I rounded the corner into the kitchen, Grandma was already in there, starting breakfast. One glance at her slightly greying brown hair and pinched face was enough to show what a bad mood she was in, which never boded well for me. I hurried to help her, hoping that I wouldn't get in too much trouble for not making it down first.

Apologies wouldn't help me if she was already worked up, so my best bet was to keep busy and hope she got sidetracked out of her mood. I kept my head down as I began chopping vegetables for the omelettes. She cast me a dirty look which I studiously pretended not to notice.

Twenty minutes later, breakfast was ready and I brought everything out to serve the family. Grandma took her place at the opposite end of the table from Mia, the little girl she adored so much because she was her own granddaughter and the future leader of hunters. Mia’s cousin, Jonas, was off on some hunter business, and it was unfortunate that he hadn't taken his older brother, Clint , along with him, because Clinylt looked at me in a way that made me feel deeply uncomfortable. I hurried back into the kitchen to get away before he could say anything. Or try anything

He lingered in my mind like a difficult stain as I quickly ate a small portion of the food, enough to keep me going, but not enough to draw Grandma’ ire. Brown haired and square jawed, Clint was nine years older than me and he had been cruel to me as far back as I could remember. 

He'd always enjoyed putting me down or lording it over me, but the last couple of years he had been getting more personal than I was happy to tolerate. It was one thing if he said unpleasant things or hit me, it was another thing, a much worse thing, when he let those creepy, hooded eyes wander over me like a threat that I didn't really understand but instinctively knew to fear.

I hated it when he did that.

I hated him.

I hated all of them.

Maybe, I even hated myself.

We were a family of hunters of the supernatural, the group of extraordinary humans who stood between humanity and the monsters lurking in the darkness beyond the light of civilization. 

Growing up as an orphan in their midst, I had heard all the stories of the glory and power of the hunters, and I could easily recite the impressive tales from memory.

My own experience had been less glorious. Grandma had taken me in as a toddler, mistreated me as an unpaid servant as she allegedly raised me beside her grandchildrens, and none of the other hunters had ever lifted even a finger to intervene in my miserable existence.

How could the hunters protect the world from supernatural monsters when they could not even protect me from the cold monsters in their midst?

Three times already I had tried to run away and leave the hunter life behind me, but each time I had been brought back to safety and had been severely punished for daring to try to find my way to freedom.

I started washing the dishes.

"Eliot."

I glanced towards the sound of my name. 

Grandma had a scowl etched across her thin face, the cruel eyes narrowed as she glared at me. Not a good sign.

I tried to shrink down and look pitiful. It was easy, because after years of this misery I could not help but fear her when she got into a mood. Although my pathetic posture did not seem to have any effect on lessening my punishment, past experience taught me that any show of pride would be met with an attempt to break it.

And they had broken it, degree by degree, until I no longer felt I had the will to stand up to them. It wasn't worth the fight anymore. All I could do now was bury my resentment and try to avoid more punishment by acting meek. And maybe, just maybe, someday I would get my chance to escape, even though I was having more and more trouble believing it would come.

She crossed her arms. "What did I do to deserve such disrespect?"

"Nothing, Grandma." Everything, but telling her that would only get me slapped, or worse.

"Then why were you late this morning?"

"I'm sorry. It was an accident."

"An accident? And you expect me to believe that?"

The question was a trap with only wrong answers to choose from. I would either have to disagree with her which would make her angrier or admit fault which would make her feel justified in her anger. I kept my mouth shut and tried to make myself look smaller and weaker by sagging my shoulders and looking at the floor.

"Sorry." If I were lucky, maybe I'd still manage to calm her down.

I was rewarded with a slap across the side of my face, but it was just one and not that hard, so I might get out of the morning almost unscathed. She could have done more damage if she had wanted to. Experienced Hunters were far stronger than child hunters who were still learning.

“This is your last chance, Eliot. You will go to the ring of Eros and hunt a werewolf. If you fail, I’ll report it to your mother and we both know you wouldn’t like it.”

“B-but G-Grandma…”

“No buts. Your mother had been asking me if you progressed but I lied in your account. So try and humour me with one wolf,” she said which made me gulp.

I’m still a kid and I knew I wouldn’t survive in the Ring of Eros. I heard that the place was infested with rogues. Werewolf rogues and sometimes Dampyrs. 

The leader of the hunters in the Jura, Odette Reurer, my mother was the most strict and had an anger issue. She used to beat me without a reason and then eventually sent me here as she got pregnant. She always likes perfection. And she was expecting me to be perfect even if I’m just ten years old. 

And then there goes Grandma telling me about the hunters oath. I could tell her words were supposed to be rousing and inspire pride in the hunters and maybe they did, but I was immune, because I was not really one of them. I was an inside observer, a second class citizen, because I never wanted to become a hunter.

Grandma dropped me in the entrance of the Ring Forest. I was scared, too scared to even step my feet in but I don't have any choice so I walked in with my trembling little feet.

I didn't know how long did I walked to before a small wolf with a red eye appeared before me. Its mouth was salivitating and I could tell that it was rabid and hungry. Without thinking, I ran away as fast as my small legs could go. And when I couldn't run anymore, I collapsed and the small wolf's lips curled into a smirk. Maybe it was thinking I would be a meal even though I was skin and bones.

Just when it was about to attack me, I closed my eyes and I heard it whimpered. When I opened my eyes, I saw a young girl kicking the small wolf before it ran away.

"Seriously, it's just a pup and you're afraid. You're weak," she said and turned her head on me.

And I saw the pair of bluest eyes I never seen. It was so beautiful and for the first time in my life, I felt my heart beat not becuase of fear but I knew it was something else...

"Doc."

Someone tapped my shoulder.

"Y-yes?"