A Dark Hunt Preliminary Poll - Ancient

[Velox]

Vote here for your favorite Dark Hunt story; entries have been randomized. Please MAKE SURE YOU READ ALL ENTRIES BEFORE VOTING.Voting begins now and will end on July 1st at 11:59 PM EST. Entries that do well will move on to the Dark Hunt Final Poll, which will be posted at the conclusion of the 10th round preliminary poll.

 

Choice #1:

 

"The Stains of Time"

Eliminator wiped his hands clean with the water of the Great Sea. Just outside Metru Nui, on a small fishing boat, he had killed another of his targets. The sea, even with its pure water, couldn't wash away the stains of blood on his hands.He decided to reflect on his life. He'd lived too long; anything before joining the Dark Hunters was a weak memory, possibly just fragments of a dream misconstrued as an actual event. As far as he was concerned, his life began when The Shadowed One recruited him without trial. His penchant for stealth and killing were just what made him so useful to The Shadowed One.There was a cough nearby. Eliminator didn't hear it over the roar of the sea.He was the hitman of choice for most. Even The Shadowed One hired him for his personal purposes: take out any rebels or incompetent Dark Hunters. He did so without prejudice or fear, attributes which all too often ruined an otherwise successful mission. Granted, the other Dark Hunters feared him and reviled him, and he personally knew of a group that plotted to eliminate him, but that didn't change anything.Metal scraped against the floor. A few grunts came from behind Eliminator, still drowned in the noise emanating from the storm.He'd been contracted so many times he couldn't count his missions anymore. His name popped up more often than any of his colleagues', and clients even offered to wait for availability. Of course he would be asked to work for Makuta Teridax, the leader of the Brotherhood of Makuta. Nobody knew what became of Miserix, but rumor had it he was executed in a volcano. The Shadowed One couldn't care less: he just wanted money. And Teridax was paying very handsomely.Footsteps, now, along with pain-ridden grunts and moans. Eliminator was too wrapped in his thoughts to hear anything.Teridax had assigned him to assassinate the Toa Mangai one by one. So far, he had killed one Toa of Water, two Toa of Ice, and was in a boat with the presumed corpse of a Toa of Air. His kills had been simple and elegant, a quick slice here, a jab there, a break here, and another dead Toa joined the ranks.So why was he so drowned in thought, why did he have doubt, why did he care?A dagger flew out of nowhere, breaking his thoughts. He caught it, only to be blown back by a strong gust of wind. Jurak stood, limping on one leg, a mini-cyclone by his side.“Don't even bother trying. You're dead. Maybe not now, but even so.” Eliminator taunted.“I know I am, but I need to know. You. I knew you before you became a Dark Hunter. We worked together, protecting Matoran, working with Toa. So answer me this. Why did you kill Kodan?”That was it. Eliminator froze in place, his inner turmoil rooting him down.It wasn't that Eliminator didn't remember anything before the recruitment, it was that he suppressed those memories. Or, rather, he had them suppressed by another figure. But suppressed memories can only be held for so long. After he killed Kodan, he'd nearly passed out of shock, something which should not have happened. Had another Dark Hunter been the clean-up guy, he'd be dead by now.He looked down at his bloodstained hands. He remembered his fights alongside Jurak, working to protect innocent Matoran with his powers over darkness. He'd fought for them. He could never kill a Toa or a Matoran. Anyone else, maybe, but them?Eliminator looked up, the rain mingling with tears in his eyes. He'd never cried before, but the sheer shock of this revelation forced them out.But he had a job regardless. And even his past could not interfere with his present.“I'm sorry, Jurak.”---------“Congratulations, you've eliminated almost all of my targets.” Teridax said as he paced up and down his chamber. Eliminator listened obediently.He looked down at his hands. The rain last night, however intense it may have been, could not wipe away the stains of bloods. The tears last night, however emotional they may have been, could not wipe away the stains of time.“Lastly, go and kill Toa Naho. She's our last little target.”As far as Eliminator was concerned, he had no past beyond the Dark Hunters, and the only thing left to do was embark on another dark hunt.

 

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Choice #2:

 

"Searching in Shadow"

 

I come from the island of Cimmerrii. That is all you need to know.

"The Star!" they cried.

"The Star!"

"The Star!"

They thought it was just a legend. The Turaga, in their best moods, had told us the story to terrify us. They said The Star had long ago come to feed upon the Matoran of Cimmerrii, until a desperate mob had gathered to fight it and defeat it. The Turaga always believed it would return.

Until that night, I didn't believe. When I heard the shouts, I thought it was only a cruel joke. But I knew I would never sleep with this racket. That was my excuse. I wouldn't admit that I was curious, and instead promised myself that, if I got up to look, it was only to kill someone to keep them quiet. With a smile of sadistic pleasure I collected my pickax and my dented shield and stepped out into the night.

It was like nothing I had ever seen, when at last I could see at all. For a moment I was blinded, and I didn't understand why. It made me think I was dying. Finally I realized that I was seeing light.

If you had seen it, you would have only seen a faint glimmer, if you could have seen it at all. To Cimmerrii, it was the first light any of us could remember, and it was blinding.

As my vision returned I began to see Matoran everywhere screaming, fleeing, running against one another, murdering one another, clambering over dead bodies. Not that this was unusual, and normally I wouldn't have noticed. But that night, I did, and for the first time in my life I was revolted. I was ashamed of the petty viciousness of my people.

The cry continued, "The Star! The Star!" I alone stood unmoving, watching, as I never would have done before, from my doorway. I noticed that the fleeing Matoran were all running away from The Star.

The longer I stood there the fewer the passersby became. Only the weakest or sleepiest stragglers blundered past now, and soon the last of them went by and I found myself completely alone.

With a snort, I squared my shoulders. Let my cowardly people run if they liked! I wouldn't. If The Star was so fearsome, I would face it myself and kill it or I would die trying it. It was terrible and dreadful . . . Then why was it so warm? And why couldn't I move? I didn't want to stay, I didn't want to run, but I didn't want to take even one step toward The Star, either. Why not? Was I afraid?

"Afraid!" I shouted. "You're afraid! Coward!"

That did it. With a roar I took the first leap and ran forward toward the light, toward The Star, shield up and pickax high. I ran away from the darkness, into the gloom that grew a little brighter with each step. I shivered at the thought but I didn't stop running, until finally I began to realize that The Star wasn't getting any closer.

I halted, tired and gasping for air. Panting, I bellowed, "Are you afraid of me? You, the terrible Star who devours little Matoran? Come back here and kill me if you can!"

I broke into a run again, but as long as I kept it up The Star got no larger. "I don't care! I will hunt you to the ends of the universe if I have to!"

When I recovered I ran again, and paused again, and ran again and paused again, over and over. Every time I realized The Star was getting steadily larger, and nearer, I ran even faster.

The ground began to slope upwards, and I kept running. I could feel the walls of a tunnel all around me, and I kept running. I ran on and on, up and up, until suddenly I rounded a corner and the brightest light yet dazzled me. I raised my shield and swung my pickax, striking walls or nothing at all.

Gathering my every last ounce of courage I charged forward blindly, up the ascending tunnel, up toward the light. With a fierce battle-cry I plunged into the light and it devoured me.

I came from the island of Cimmerii. And I have found the light.

That is all you need to know.

 

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Choice #3:

 

"Hunt in the Dark"

 

Pittsburg Pennsylvania, home to some old steel work mills. It was night time, and the moon was in full bloom. We’ve been told to never do business before sundown, but we were naïve into doing so. This is the time, I survived the hunt.

 

It was dawn, and me and my companions were waking getting ready to go into the mills to work some trading. We didn’t matter what it was we were trading our steel for, but we were always careful about to make business with. Jaskal, Horuos, Uganl, and I changed into our human disguises so we can blend in with human society. We made sure we got everything we needed, and proceeded to an abandoned mill where we set up our trades.

 

I was a 5,7 albino with blonde hair, freckle faced, and pale blue eyes. Jaskal was a 6,1 African American man who was all muscle built. He had a very deep voice which he sort of hated. Underneath that he was a Fa-Matoran with silver Kulasi. Horuos was a 5,9 1/3 Germanic descendant with dark red hair and green eyes. Underneath the disguise is a Vo-Matoran with a Pakari. Last was Ugnal, he was a 5,11 Mexican American with a Spanish accent in his voice. He had grey hair like an old human, and dark brown eyes. Underneath his disguise was a Su-Matoran with a Hau.

 

When we made it to our mill, our day was going smoothly. We made more of a profit than we did on most days by obtaining gold, silver, and some other oddities that are just too strange to describe.

 

“Bet ya that this the day we make more profit than last year,” boasted Jaskal.

 

“Let’s just see what happens. The day is still fresh,” I said feeling slightly happy.

 

As the hours went by, it slipped my mind that we shouldn’t stay here at night. I’ve heard that dark things happen here at the moon rise. But I didn’t care; I was having a good time making deals for our steel. Then the sun set down upon us, and we were in a rush to pack up our supplies. When we were just a mere yard away from our vehicle, we were approached by mercenaries armed with machine guns and assault rifles. They were all wearing black, and their faces were covered in black as well, so I couldn’t see their faces.

 

There were hundreds of them surrounding us, ready to fire upon us. I could then see in front of me, that they were stepping aside for someone, but I could not see who it was. Then when the mercenaries in front of us moved, I could see two glowing red eyes and the glint of some gold armor. Then the being looked at me closely in the eyes, and that’s when I realized that it was a Skakdi.

 

His spines were shaped like the tip of a spear. His armor was black as coal and the body armor was a crude gold. His face was rigged and had some white tribal marking running down the left side of his face. He then said to me, “Your trespassing ends here Matoran. For too long we have seen you use our grounds for your worthless trade,” he explained with his harsh voice, as he knocked the bag that Jaskal was carrying off him.

 

“And what are you going to do about it, huh?” Ugnal bursted.

 

The Skakdi then grabbed him by the throat and lift him to his eye level.

 

“We’re going to hunt you down like a pack a pack of animals. That’s, what we’re going to do.”

 

The lined us up side by side, as we were held by the hands. Then they let us go, shooting at our feet to get us moving. We were probably 20 yards away from them, when suddenly I heard a gunshot. Horuos went down fumbling like a rag doll on the pavement. Then I heard the hollering of the men as they began to charge at us, guns blazing in the air.

 

I saw Ugnal fall to the ground, and then a man lunged at him, leaving a knife in his throat. Then Jaskal fell to a shot to the head. I turned off my human disguise so they do not recognize me. To my surprise, I had reached the forest outside of the mills. This was the last time I saw them.

 

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Choice #4:

 

"Nothing"

There was nothing left for her here.

Shadow, yes, and the odd Matoran left for prey of some kind for something much bigger than she. But she was no longer a protector, and should not act as such against whatever Rahi was going to kill these unfortunate little souls. Letting go of them was much more difficult than she had expected to begin with, though.

The night was supposedly unwelcoming for Toa as she had been, but now she realised that she had never breathed anything more natural. Light was suffocating, bright, blinding. In the darkness she could be free to roam the darkness. She could be herself properly with no regard for the loathing that had begun to surround her perpetually.

People followed her sometimes. A large paw print, right next to a tiny little foot more like a Matoran's than anything else's was bound to be suspicious, especially with the blade marks that her arms had begun to leave. They had left quickly once they had either given up and gone to do something else, or found her.

Not many people did the latter, and even fewer survived to tell the tale.

She had been scared of the dark as a Matoran. Always terrified of some monster that wasn't really there and never really would be; always wanting another comfort to help her through the night. Nobody had really cared, but she had never put away a lightstone at sundown, and it was always replaced as soon as it had displayed signs of flickering out.

Aimless wandering.

Aimless thoughts.

Maybe she shouldn't think.

Maybe letting go was easier than she had thought.

Maybe in three breaths, it could all be over and she would no longer feel a strange attachment to these tiny, powerless creatures, and maybe the heavy-footed Matoran would finally stop following her, ruining the silence and stumbling along, completely out of his normal habitat.

Blank it out, blank it all out, and maybe nothing can permeate the sounds of your blood rushing through your head; nothing can drill through the psychotic state that you have driven yourself into; nothing can-

Rip.

Tear.

Scream.

Nothing.

But nothing soon becomes something, for nothing can be nothing forever. Whatever you think, there can be no lies that you can feed yourself without end; an endless feast of truth mixed with non-truth and a tiny bit of seasoning on the latter so that you will always prefer the taste.

There was a mask on the floor. It was shattered so badly, all it could be recognised as was a Pakari. She knelt down and sniffed it. There was no power in it. The corpse on the floor was something that her past self would probably faint at the sight of.

Nowadays, she could just turn away.

So that was what she did.

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Choice #5:

The Toa’s body crumpled to the ground as I withdrew my blade from his back – the hunt, at last, was over. It had been a particularly challenging one – yes, that’s right, challenging, even for me. Hunting down someone who’s gotten his hands on an Olmak is no easy task. My partner would never admit to finding any assignment the slightest bit difficult, but I understood the value in recognizing my weaknesses. If I could understand them, I could conquer them, learn to succeed in spite of them. It was why I would be alive far longer than he would.Well, actually, that’s not the real reason, I guess. See, this mission had two parts. I knelt down beside the fallen Toa and wrenched the Olmak from his face; that, naturally, was our primary objective. The mask housed considerable power, power the Shadowed One wanted to ensure was in… competent hands. Phase two, well…“Excellent work,” came my partner’s voice from behind me.I turned, rising and giving a nod of appreciation. “Likewise,” I replied. He had concealed himself in the underbrush, using the powers typical of his species to cast an illusion over the clearing, distracting our quarry while I finished the job.“Lemme see that,” he said, gesturing to the mask. “The sooner we get out of here, the better.” We had planned on using the Olmak to quickly return to Odina – my partner could access the mask’s power; I could not.I tossed the mask in his direction. The moment he reached out to catch it, I lunged forward, my blade stopping an inch from his throat. To my surprise, he barely reacted, only raising an eyebrow in surprise. “What’s this?” he asked. “Treason?”“Hardly,” I said. “I’m told you’ve been compromised, that it’s my job to retire you. Personally, I’m not too thrilled about it, but you should’ve considered the consequences before you betrayed us, yeah?”Suddenly he—Laughed? “Something funny?” I demanded.He shook his head slowly, still grinning. “They told me the same thing about you.”I barely had a half-second to process the information before the Olmak in his hand exploded, a fireball large enough to engulf the entire island.

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Choice #6:

"Colours on Canvas"

I started making swords as a Ta-Matoran. It promised an honest living.That was not what I sought.One thousand years later, I would wield a sword as a Toa of flames. I was promised glory.That was not what I sought.Another thousand years would pass, and I would wield a sword again. This time, no glory was promised; heroes and defenders had become commonplace to the Matoran. We had been demoted from legends to scarecrows. We had become the security blanket locked in the attic -- impotent, redundant, kept out of misplaced sentimentality. Our lives were put on hold, dulled and faded until they were a grey canvas.Many years later, a rogue Toa of the soil attacked the village, and my sword had chance to sting again.And sting it did. Earth met steel, and earth was transformed to blood. My opponent fell, his life leaking back into his element.Anger ignited, fear swelled, shame fell, horror took grip; I drank in those crisp, genuine, heartfelt feelings. They were deep blacks, muddy greens, vibrant yellows and burning reds splashing onto the grey space of my existence -- in a blazing moment my frustration had been replaced by fire, and my lethargy had been replaced by lust.Reprimands were given; trials held. I was warned that if my actions were repeated, I would be punished.That was not what I sought.If I stayed on the straight and narrow path, they said I would become a hero of legends.That was not what I sought.More years passed, and I returned to an existence of limbo. Grey creeped back into my life, but this was a darker shade -- it was not of boredom, but of resentment.History repeated itself; a mad Skakdi of the waves stormed our gates, and my team rushed to stop it. I was pushed back by my brethren, to keep me from the rapture that battle promised. But my will proved greater than their might, and the frenzied beast was reduced to red streams splashed onto shards of blue.I looked back to my five brothers and sisters, as they silently conceded that the final line had been crossed.How right they were.Axe, scythe, shield, flail, spear...names were lost to me. Steel sang, and my old team fell one-by-one, their lives returned to their Great Spirit, their colours feeding me.But five was not enough.So I drowned my village in death.As well as the next. And the next. And the next. And the next.Some desperate men and women promised me power in exchange for mercy.That was not what I sought.Power was a sedentary thing, and my hunger required me to move and chase and hunt. Only my sword could give me what I wanted, what I needed.It promised me life.And that was what I sought.

[dotcom]

These were all pretty good--I loved #4 in particular--but the clear winner for me is number 6. Loved the repetition and the general style of the piece. I can't imagine it not winning this one.

[Grantaire]

I have to say that four was my favorite, although six was tempting.

[TahuForever!]

At the risk of seeming biased, I ultimately went with Number 2. I never did care for stories that showcase villainy.

[Excelsior]

I voted for #6.

 

May the best story win!

 

-Excelsior

[SonicBOOM XS]

This is a tie except for 6.

 

I couldn't pick so I just looked at the results. XD

 

Good luck all!

[Makuta of Time]

I just self voted since I have no idea if anyone would vote for them. But the others are also good and interesting.

[Velox]

Polling period over; topic closed.