I am not a monster.

Or, at least, this is what I tell people. I am a killer, rest assured I have been made aware of such acts. But, I have a beating heart too. I have ties with others, I didn't choose this life. But I am what I am. And if this makes me a killer, makes others suspicious of my movements and cautious of my motives, I learn to live with it. I have hardly laid a dent in the population. People of my kin would believe me to be weak. Which, in hindsight I am. But perhaps I am saving my energy for a far more dangerous subject.

The reason I find myself in the shelter of a weaponry, eyeing the delicate hand crafted tools behind crystallized glass, is because I seek protection. The tension in the air as my entrance is examined proves I am in need of something a little more reassuring. A pocket knife doesn't do the task I will need to perform if I am attacked by a were-lurker or vampire.

Lurkers, because I have been taught that they lurk in crazy, unique forms to which I have never had the opportunity to witness, and because I am unsure of what their motives are. The only kind I have seen is a werewolf, which lose their "originality" after the fifth sighting.

It isn't until a feminine voice breaks ice that I carefully remove my gaze from the mesmorising glass and watch as a fiery red head approaches. I don't let her see I heard the growl to which she released. I acknowledge her kin, though I do not plan to act on it. Unlike a majority of hunters, I like to say I seek only revenge.

"A couple things," but I do not hold her gaze for long. My own hazel eyes burn with excitement at the crafted art circling the shop. I try not to let his suspicion effect my browsing. After all, I just need to buy and go. Then, we are all happy, "perhaps you have a recommendation for me?"

Brian had been thirteen when he had died, unfortunately mother couldn't get to him in time to.. Turn.. Him. He had laid in my arms, gasping for breath from our car accident. I remember running my hands in his long dirty blonde hair, his blue eyes hardly with me. Freckles on his face rummaging his face like dirt. He told me memories, stories, and I don't know why but I was laughing. Perhaps I laughed to void the pain seething from my heart, but I did. I laughed because I didn't want him to see me cry, I couldn't let him know things were bad. That the paramedics had told me to say my goodbyes.

"One day, when I am a hunter, and you turn too.. We will fight with swords. Only swords. Guns scare me M, they are loud too.." Because at this time, he had been convinced mom and dad would be there soon enough to help him turn. They were hunters; my father a brutal murderer, my mother a stealthy assassin. I guess you could say I prayed to God it would be too late for them to turn me too. Obviously, it wasn't.
And this is why I find myself drawn, today, to the swords and knives, anything quiet, hoping to redeem my brother in some sort of fashion. I look beyond the knife case to see swords hanging elegantly, shimmering reflections of light, some with sparkled handles, others with leather grip. I know which one Brian would want. Though, I have always been a more outgoing person.

I feel somewhat embarrassed looking at such old weapons as prospects, but I just feel it is right for myself.

It isn't until he finally approaches that I find myself getting more offensive. I try to let such things slide, but I am easily tempered.. Not that I mean to, just that, I am. I glance at him as he doesn't welcome me or anything. Perhaps this is common for this shop, but every other place at least acts friendly.

"Quick to judge, are we? May I just point out that you have the magic to take my life just as easily as I have the strength to take yours?" I am irritated at this point. Though I just return my glance to the girl momentarily, "although I can tell introductions seem thick here.. I am Emerence. Thank you for the hospitality."

I begin to ponder whether staying is worth it. However, the thought that I am not familiar with the city and this is the only weaponry I have came around makes me hesitate. I bite my lip. "All I am here for is protection from people like you who jump to assume I kill every supernatural being out there. One day, you just might drive me to it. Until then, I like to save my gift for those who matter."

I rest my hand against the glass and lean, frustrated. I just need this. Now. For him.

Emerence Hux