Bane

February 5, 1993

Bane dodged the blast of fire and lunged for the witch in the ally between Nikolai's Auto Repair Shop and Doughnut Extravaganza. Downtown Driftwood was not a good idea for hunting grounds, and he wished he stayed on the outskirts. The problem with Driftwood was - with exception of the quarry - it was too quiet anymore. No one, neither hunters of The Order, nor the coven that inhabited Driftwood had any desire to wander out of the city limits.

It was almost over.

More often now he found himself roaming in alleys, lurking in shadows and picking off Coven like a creature of opportunity.

The witch pushed his hand out and Bane felt a weak wave of force impact wash over him. He closed the distance between them, grasping the witch's outstretched hand before he could cast again.

Then, something Bane did not expect. The witch grinned, baring his teeth. "You're predictable."

Without warning, there were more.  Out of the shadows, as though out of the air itself.

Bane rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. This was more like it.

Too close to home. Too much like before.

Bane ignored the memory's voice and lashed out without his weapons.  They came at him with magick, and Bane answered back with gloved fists; fists crushing bone and tearing flesh, knotting muscle and swelling eyes shut.

Predictable. Predictable.

They did not see this coming.

Bane grasped at the closest he could and slammed his masked face into their - his - nose, blood spattering down over his mouth and chin.  He lifted him up off his feet, and swung him around, striking the others as the drew closer. The witch was screaming in a hoarse, shrill voice.

There was a loud crack, and the witch's face split along the cheek. Bane dropped him and turned in a circle, the coven around him groaning, writhing on the grimy alley floor in a large ring around him. Bane turned his attention upward to see two cowled hunters repelling down the fire escape.

He glared beneath his mask. "You."

"I don't think we've met." David glanced at Karen. Her expression was hidden beneath her cowl.

"Left and right?"

David shook his head once. "You see the size of that guy?"

Karen nodded. "He's real."

"No time to get star struck. Up and down."

"You going topside?"

David huffed. "Nope."

"On three?"

"Three!" David was running toward Bane as the masked giant dropped the battered witch in his hands at his side. He lifted a boot and thrust it on the side of the witches neck. David heard an audible wet crack. He was almost upon him, and only hoped Karen was behind him for the up and down.

David dropped to his back and slid. He was consciously aware of the grime on the alley floor - could feel it beneath his hunter's fatigues - the greasy mixture of piss, vomit, and whatever else stained the concrete aiding his slide. David ignored the smell, ignored the sludge gathering beneath the palm of his gloves, and unsheathed his daggers. He heard Karen's impact, and caught sight of her straddling Bane head and shoulders, her legs clamped around his neck as she plunged her own blades into each side of his neck.

As David passed beneath the masked behemoth, he slashed at the inside of Bane's thighs and passed beyond him as Bane's blood splashed onto the soiled concrete beneath him.

Woozy. Woozy?
(You're not feeling well.)

"Shuttup..." Bane's muffled voice slurred beneath his mask, and he stumbled as Karen pushed herself off and away from him.

She landed on her knees, skidding backward away from the masked rogue.

David slowed his slide, turning into his side and up onto his knees. "Impossible."

"Ain't over yet, honey." Karen drew a small crossbow from beneath her duster and had it loaded before her next breath.

"He should be done!"

Bane dropped to a knee and retrieved his pistols. The wounds would heal - were healing - and he would survive. He had no choice in the matter. No choice especially with the familiar scent in his nose. Beneath the smell of piss stained brick, and the gray slime beneath him, the smell of Walker. A smell like Clayton. Like Bart.

Like his.

Bane leveled his revolvers, one on David, one on Karen. Dead to rights and no escape. Not this time.

A crack echoed through the alley, and Bane was firing twin revolvers upward into the empty space of the alley between Nikolai's Auto Shop and Doughnut Extravaganza until the cylinders were empty. The rusted fire escape creaked from the second story of Nikolai's Auto Shop. Bane holstered his weapons and reached for his blades.

The billowing shadow looked over him, growing larger as he had just enough time to register the scuffed, hard heeled boots as they connected with his masked face. The Hunter held his balance with impossible grace as he rode Bane's fall all of the way to the floor of the alley and fell into a controlled roll off of Bane's masked face.

David and Karen stared from opposite sides of the alley, cowls hiding their surprised expressions.

"Time to go."

"Who are you?" David and Karen in unison.

"No time." He raised a gloved hand and beckoned. "We have to go now before he wakes."

David and Karen looked over their shoulders simultaneously. "He's dead."

Bane shifted.

"Now!" The high singsong voice of the unknown hunter carried through the alley with urgency.