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Authors: Hideyuki Kikuchi
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situation in town had started to show signs of improvement.
The smaller birds of prey were being loaded onto carts and hauled away, while men
with axes and chainsaws gathered around the gigantic carcasses that filled the streets.
The whine of motors mixed with sounds of meat and bones being severed, and here and
there the stench of blood pervaded the town. In less than thirty minutes a huge bird
with a thirty-foot wingspan could be stripped down to the point it was no longer recognizable.
After all, man-eating birds were delicious, even to the very people they’d intended
to eat.
The town was bustling with activity. Carts were laden with piles of meat, viscera,
feathers, and bones to be hauled away. All of them would be sent to the factories
for chemical processing, with some of the meat being preserved and sent to warehouses
for storage. The rest would circulate to the butcher shops and turn up on dinner tables
this very night. In the factories waited men with various skills at their disposal.
Spears could be made from some of the bones, tendons and viscera could be used for
bowstrings, and the rest of the skeleton would be pulverized to make a paste to be
delivered to the hospital. Even the sharp fangs could be turned into accessories.
And the blood had its uses as well—trace amounts of it would probably be mixed in
juice or in their nightly drinks at the bar. The blood of birds of prey had been proven
to have an invigorating effect on humans.
Among all of the bustling activity, a mother suddenly noticed her daughter was missing.
Seeing her dashing all over town like a woman possessed as she called out the girl’s
name, other folks finally realized they hadn’t seen the woman’s only child anywhere.
As someone tried to soothe the half-crazed mother, one of her friends answered that
her daughter had been seen headed for the park. There was every reason to suspect
the girl might’ve met her end at the talons of the colossal birds.
Several people started to dash down the street, but quickly stopped in their tracks.
From the opposite direction came a beautiful yet foreboding young man. By his side
was a slight figure. The woman called out the little girl’s name and ran to her. As
the mother and child shared a tearful embrace, D turned and walked away without giving
them so much as a glance. Where was he going?
After the mother had brushed the little girl’s hair away from her neck and confirmed
there wasn’t a mark on her, a relieved smile swept over her face.
“Didn’t do nothing funny to you, now, did he?” said one man. “He’s a dhampir, you
know.” Everyone muttered their shared sentiments at that.
“He saved me,” the little girl mumbled.
“Saved you? From what?”
“A bird got me . . . Carried me way up into the sky . . . ”
“You’re talking nonsense. Nothing like that fell in the park.”
“But it’s true,” the little girl said absentmindedly. “We were falling from the sky.
And then he saved me . . . He really did save me.”
The eyes of the townsfolk sought the young Hunter. But they could no longer find the
faintest trace of him on the noisy street.
-
THE TOWNSFOLK
CHAPTER 3
-
I
-
Night fell and the clouds appeared, swirling shapes borne by the wind. The light of
the moon was snuffed out.
This day—or to be more precise, this evening—was entirely without precedent for the
town. Ordinarily, the streets would’ve been filled with merrymakers. Unwinding after
a hard day’s work, men with flushed faces would be arguing in bars where the lights
burned all night and the hum of the electric organ never faded. Women would be harping
about their daily toils while children dashed through the streets with newly acquired
fireworks in hand. But tonight, shutters were lowered before the bar doors, and the
wind alone danced through the streets. From time to time someone passed by, but they
were volunteer
The smaller birds of prey were being loaded onto carts and hauled away, while men
with axes and chainsaws gathered around the gigantic carcasses that filled the streets.
The whine of motors mixed with sounds of meat and bones being severed, and here and
there the stench of blood pervaded the town. In less than thirty minutes a huge bird
with a thirty-foot wingspan could be stripped down to the point it was no longer recognizable.
After all, man-eating birds were delicious, even to the very people they’d intended
to eat.
The town was bustling with activity. Carts were laden with piles of meat, viscera,
feathers, and bones to be hauled away. All of them would be sent to the factories
for chemical processing, with some of the meat being preserved and sent to warehouses
for storage. The rest would circulate to the butcher shops and turn up on dinner tables
this very night. In the factories waited men with various skills at their disposal.
Spears could be made from some of the bones, tendons and viscera could be used for
bowstrings, and the rest of the skeleton would be pulverized to make a paste to be
delivered to the hospital. Even the sharp fangs could be turned into accessories.
And the blood had its uses as well—trace amounts of it would probably be mixed in
juice or in their nightly drinks at the bar. The blood of birds of prey had been proven
to have an invigorating effect on humans.
Among all of the bustling activity, a mother suddenly noticed her daughter was missing.
Seeing her dashing all over town like a woman possessed as she called out the girl’s
name, other folks finally realized they hadn’t seen the woman’s only child anywhere.
As someone tried to soothe the half-crazed mother, one of her friends answered that
her daughter had been seen headed for the park. There was every reason to suspect
the girl might’ve met her end at the talons of the colossal birds.
Several people started to dash down the street, but quickly stopped in their tracks.
From the opposite direction came a beautiful yet foreboding young man. By his side
was a slight figure. The woman called out the little girl’s name and ran to her. As
the mother and child shared a tearful embrace, D turned and walked away without giving
them so much as a glance. Where was he going?
After the mother had brushed the little girl’s hair away from her neck and confirmed
there wasn’t a mark on her, a relieved smile swept over her face.
“Didn’t do nothing funny to you, now, did he?” said one man. “He’s a dhampir, you
know.” Everyone muttered their shared sentiments at that.
“He saved me,” the little girl mumbled.
“Saved you? From what?”
“A bird got me . . . Carried me way up into the sky . . . ”
“You’re talking nonsense. Nothing like that fell in the park.”
“But it’s true,” the little girl said absentmindedly. “We were falling from the sky.
And then he saved me . . . He really did save me.”
The eyes of the townsfolk sought the young Hunter. But they could no longer find the
faintest trace of him on the noisy street.
-
THE TOWNSFOLK
CHAPTER 3
-
I
-
Night fell and the clouds appeared, swirling shapes borne by the wind. The light of
the moon was snuffed out.
This day—or to be more precise, this evening—was entirely without precedent for the
town. Ordinarily, the streets would’ve been filled with merrymakers. Unwinding after
a hard day’s work, men with flushed faces would be arguing in bars where the lights
burned all night and the hum of the electric organ never faded. Women would be harping
about their daily toils while children dashed through the streets with newly acquired
fireworks in hand. But tonight, shutters were lowered before the bar doors, and the
wind alone danced through the streets. From time to time someone passed by, but they
were volunteer
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