Summary:

The Askari's had always been a secret, unregistered family, born and bred to serve royalty, to protect them with their lives if need be. But now they were banned and exiled as "the hunters", for the royalty expanded to a democracy and ultimately a republic and their services were no longer needed. The Askari's lived on, but in banishment and rejection, feared and forever hunted by paranoid politicians.

But as the centuries passed and men grew more powerful, man had unleashed something powerful, something supernatural. People are becoming infected and peace and prosperity as mankind knew it was beginning to shatter. Now the republic needed the Askari again. The Hunters were needed and called for, and it was their job to save humanity, yet again in the shadows.

The metropolis of mankind had fallen. It had fallen hard. For centuries, humans had crawled out of every pit they had fallen in, refusing to be trapped and destroyed. With only the superior intellect above animals and an exceptional will to survive, they defied the laws of nature to conquer over the fate of weaker species before them. They held the power of the gods.

But things did not stay as they were. A disease broke out amongst the people, spreading quickly from person to person. Though such diseases had struck and nearly decimated the human race before, this one continued to rage with no end in sight. It was incurable and no one was immune. The epidemic claimed millions and the world was no longer what the humans called paradise. For decades, no one knew what it was – the disease was untraceable and almost unnoticeable. Those who believed its existence assumed it was a sickness of the mind that corrupted high-ranking, intelligent men. Others believed it was moral decay or a plague to signal the end of the world. Some hotly refused to accept it, claiming that the disease was nothing more than the invention of prattling and frightened people. Whatever it was, there were no means to control it. It wasn't until it was almost too late that a young scientist discovered the source of this disease. He named it Sin.

Abraham Askari was smart, popular amongst his acquaintances, and kind-hearted. He was forward-thinking, a trait of a successful and highly accomplished man, but he was also humble in both mind and spirit. Even so, many believed he was crazy; he had the audacity of naming the disease Sin. When he managed to publish reports on his studies, speak at government hearings, and console doctors on a possible cure, there was an outrage. At his failure and rejection, he crawled back to his family mansion. Abraham had spent the majority of his life locked up in his home where he was told he'd be safe. He hardly stepped out of the property thereafter and when he did, it was on very rare occasions and for only a very short amount of time. He was isolated from the rest of the world and the world did not miss him. He came from a very ancient family who had bad dealings with the government: so terrible that his family had been hunted down and killed in centuries past. Yet every generation managed to survive and the government failed to extinguish them, even today. Abraham remained as the last blood Askari, and in fear of his lineage and the future of his family, he kept himself locked up, despite his longing to explore the world.

His theories regarding the Sin were considered fraudulent and obsolete despite the heavy amount of research to support his claims. No one dared to believe him, especially the officials. They refused to. After hearing what he said, who wanted to?

According to Abraham, the Sin was of man's creation. And man, being man, was too proud to accept that. It was his theory that the Sin were the very embodiment of man's darkness. What our hearts could no longer keep secret seeped out into the world and took bodily form. Abraham split the Sin into different categories according to their characteristics and continued his research and theories. He found that those that can be seen and heard, sensed with the human body, were usually inferior, considered as beasts as humans would consider dogs or horses as beasts of labor. These solid demons were the Sin's cattle and flock. They fed on humans; their thoughts, their energy, their souls, and held no ranking in the hierarchy at all. Superior to these solid demons were the spirit demons. They could not be seen or sensed with the human eye. More dangerous by far, the spirit demons corrupted the minds of the people they chose. The demon, in return, gave the host powers; Greed, for example, would give his host an accumulative ability to steal, to take, and eventually fraud and scam. As the host's dependency grew, the stronger the demon grew. But even amongst these spiritual demons, Abraham believed they held rankings amongst themselves and held commanders and foot soldiers, even—

Abigail shut the book, a small cloud of dust erupting from the old pages. She placed it down the table, her fingers lightly resting on old, leather binding. The aged book was giant, containing the generalization of her family's history. It was made especially for her, the aged and yellowed pages blank of any text. Instead, the book was embedded with tiny dots, for Abigail Askari was blind.

Being blind never bothered her, but she always felt others would see it as a weakness. She could not see the world of colors that everyone else could. No, Abigail lived in a different world. Blind, yes she was, but the day she lost her sight, she was given a new pair of eyes to an entirely new world. What she'd just read of Abraham's studies, her own father, she knew was true. How? Because that was all she saw. What others saw as a crowd of bustling people, she saw as a feast of souls with demons hovering above. She saw the aura of people and included in this were the spiritual demons. Perhaps one could say this was a winning advantage, something others would kill for. But it haunted Abigail. Her very strength was her weakness. Abigail hated her ability. She hated walking down the street and seeing a demon devouring another's soul, the victim blissfully unaware, and do nothing about it. She hated their taunting when she was alone at night. She detested their foul rank and ugly faces. She shuddered at their voices that whispered words of sin into the humans' ears.

But if she had the opportunity to be rid of her sixth sense, Abigail would refuse. As the head of the Askari family, it was her responsibility to keep the others safe and protected. Her gift, her curse, whatever one might decide to call it, played a vital role in executing her role as leader.

The rest of the world, haunted and devoured by demons, she did not care about. The government banished her and her family. Her parents were cruelly murdered for trying to save humanity. Mankind, arrogant and stupid, had chosen death in ignorance: and that was fine with her.

She had no need for them, and they had no need for her.

Not until now.

--

The rain poured onto the city, drizzling down the gray walls, wetting the gray streets, darkening the gray city. The citizens of Hoover went on about their business, not caring for the rain falling down on them. The many umbrellas created a roof of wire and nylon above the bustling crowd where the humans were intent on getting things done for the day. Some walked quickly, pushing through the wet crowd, while others dragged their feet. Some ate and drank as they walked, some smoked. Some laughed, some frowned, most stared on ahead.

Deep amongst the crowd of bodies walked Abigail Askari, small and wet, and out of place. Her long black hair clung to her face and neck, framing her pale face. The rain dripped off her long lashes, which trimmed a pair of eyes, the irises a dead, milky yellow. She wore a plain black dress suit, covered with a matching black trench coat heavy with the rain. She walked in small, measured steps; not in fear of walking on a ground she can't see but rather in care of not bumping into them. In such a thick crowd, it was hard to miss them. She hated touching them. If their smell wasn't enough, touching one, let alone walking through one, filled her with a nausea enough to make her double over.

Despite it all, however, one of the things she loved most in this world was taking a walk through the city. No matter the stink, the filth, the corrupted beings that roamed the city, Abigail loved the masses of people. She loved listening to them and watching them. It made her feel like she was part of their world; in blissful oblivion.

It was a fleeting dream, she knew, but it helped make waking up to a new day easier and less painful.

Abigail put the city behind her as she made her way back home. While in the city she walked leisurely, though carefully, on her way home she walked with incredible speed. The road home was quiet and empty. After spending an hour walking in thick company, the emptiness of the road home felt all the more burdening. She saw nothing. She felt nothing. She heard nothing. This time, she really was blind.

She reached out her hands knowingly, deathly pale and skinny against her dark clothes and the pouring rain. Her fingertips met the iron gates to her home and she grasped them tightly, feeling the immense wave of relief washing over her tense body. She pushed it open and made sure it closed properly before walking down the stone path towards the house.

From what she remembered as a little girl, when she still had her eyesight, she knew her mansion was a beautiful old, black Victorian house. Everything in her home was black, from the floor to the walls, even the curtains. They were the black mark on the face of the world. Abigail also remembered thinking how beautiful and prodigious her home was, despite the darkness, until it became her prison and eventually, the last thing she'd see before going blind. The mansion itself was fathomlessly beautiful. But Abigail could not say she loved it. None of the Askari family members could.

Abigail ran her fingertips over the engraving set in the pair of large, oak entrance doors. "Cave canum," she whispered aloud, her cold fingers making out the letters. She sighed and took a breath. With a grasp of the metal knob and slight push, she stepped into her confinement.

She closed her eyes as she shut the door, leaning against it. The house was silent, silent enough to hear the water dripping off her coat and onto the black marble floor. It echoed around the walls until the sound became almost foreign and unrecognizable. She paused and listened for the familiar footsteps. She almost smiled when she heard them, as if her thoughts had called to them. She knew the footfall pattern and knew who it was from the weight of the steps.

"Abigail!" her eldest brother called out, his voice high with panic. He raced down the stairs to greet her. Or rather, scold her. She loved her eldest brother Seth very much. But everyone thought him to be the mother hen, always having something to nag at somebody about. Even she thought so. But she never said a word about it. It only irritated her when she allowed herself to think about it. And anyway, these days, it was all he could live for. There wasn't much else to do, cramped up in this mansion.

Seth grasped her shoulders and nearly shook her. "Look at you, you're soaking wet!" He grabbed her cheeks and winced. "And you're ice cold. Abigail, I consented to you going out for walks, but you've been out for much too long and you'll tire yourself out. You know you don't do well with too many people at onc-"

"Seth," interrupted a calm but assertive voice. Seth ignored it and continued to ramble on.

"Are you feeling ill anywhere? You look fatigued. We need to get you warmed up and out of these wet clothes,"

"Seth," came the voice again, sterner. Seth frowned as his younger brother Tom came up and stood behind Abigail. "That will be enough." Tom draped a large towel around Abigail's shoulders and led her away, his hands on her shoulders. Seth frowned and watched Tom walk away with Abigail. With a sigh, he retreated back to his room where he paced restlessly. Valefor, Abigail's right hand man, the vice-captain of their organization, sat patiently and watched the young Askari. He sat with his arms resting on the armrests, his left finger idly running over the scar running down his left eye.

"Did you tell her?" Valefor asked, his voice deep and rumbling.

Seth's frown only deepened. "No." he replied tersely.

Valefor stood up and sighed, causing Seth to stiffen. "Then I will tell her."

"Wait! Just…wait until she finishes drying up."

Valefor raised his scarred brow and smiled. "Seth, you know it's only going to be worse when they show up without her knowing. I'm going to go tell her."

Without waiting for Seth's reply, Valefor walked out of the room, headed for Abigail's room. Seth watched with building tension.

--

Abigail shrugged into a new, dry dress shirt while behind her Tom picked up her wet clothes. Her fingers felt around the buttons carefully and smoothed out her shirt. Her hair was still damp but she didn't care. "Seth will have something to say about your hair," Tom noted, as if reading her mind. Abigail replied with silence as she worked on her tie, her fingers checking every movement. Even in her own home, Abigail believed that a proper and clean appearance was necessary as head of the family.

Tom sighed and gently took hold of Abigail's cold hands. He pulled them aside and helped fix Abigail's tie.

Abigail stood still as Tom worked. She noted the smell of paper that always seemed to cling to him. It wasn't a bad smell, just unusual. But it was to be expected. Tom spent most of his days in the library or his office taking care of all the paperwork. He was the one that wrote up the reports for her and translated all the text into dots. Without him, her life would've been unimaginably difficult. All those years she was bedridden, he was the one that sat by her side, reading and telling her stories, always talking to her, always by her side. Her transition to blindness was also made more tolerable with his immense patience and love for her. Back then, Tom was a mere boy, but he was very intelligent. It was, perhaps, one of the few things he inherited from their father, if not the family head title.

It was always tradition to leave the Askari family to the eldest son. Abraham was expected to have children to pass on the generation. Children he had, but no sons to inherit his title. Both Seth and Tom had been adopted as little boys but not with the intention of having them inherit the family head. It was impossible to begin with, for they were not blood. But before any arrangements could be made, Abraham had been killed.

Valefor was the one that decided Abigail was to be head. She was, quite literally, the only one available. The role was quite forced onto her at a very young age, but Abigail accepted it readily and rose up to the challenge. To this day she stayed devoted to her family.

Abigail blinked when Tom pressed his thumb in between her brows. "You're frowning. Valefor is on his way here, and if he sees you frowning, he'll throw a fit."

"I don't throw fits." Valefor growled, already hulking in the doorway.

Tom turned around and smiled coolly. "Speak of the devil,"

"Abigail, there are matters that need your attention," Seth said, ignoring Tom.

"You had a visitor today," Abigail said, her voice husky and deeper from what one would expect from her small body.

Valefor shut his mouth and nodded. Of course she'd know.

"You know my answers, Valefor, yet you let them in." she continued, staring at him with unseeing eyes. Valefor sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

"The Mayor had urgent matters to discuss with us. I just couldn't turn him away."

"And so now we are to help him." Abigail said, a statement rather than a question.

Valefor set his jaw. "Your father would've accepted without a second thought."

The air in the room suddenly became heavy and the silence deafening. Abigail showed no outward reaction to the comment and turned to the window. Valefor tightened his fists, staring at her hard. He wouldn't let her ignore this anymore.

Tom cleared his throat and stepped up, breaking the silence.

"Our money's doing well so far," he let out cheerfully. "But at this rate, I'm afraid we won't last much longer and we'll eventually have to-" Tom cut himself off, realizing he was right back at the conversation he was trying to draw attention away from. He sighed and looked up at Abigail. He opened his mouth to speak, to support Valefor's words, but he pursed his lips.

"Leave me." She snapped. Tom frowned but sighed in submission. With a nod at Valefor, Tom walked out. Valefor watched him leave and turned back to Abigail. He stepped up beside her, looking out the rain-drenched window. They stood side by side in companionable silence for a long while before Valefor spoke out again.

"Abigail," he started, looking down at her. He had literally raised the girl standing before him, and he was old enough to be her father. After all, he and her father had been the best of friends, near brothers. But before him stood not a teenager but a young woman, his master, his leader, his child, his sister, all in one. He felt the pride and respect for her swelling in his chest but he could not ignore the stabbing pain in the back of his mind. "I respect your decisions for the family. I really do. Your reasons are logical and you have every right for what you believe is best for the family." Valefor paused a moment, checking himself, before going on. He placed a large hand on her shoulder and squeezed affectionately. "But we can't go on like this, the family. We are rotting away, Abigail. It is not in our blood to sit and do nothing."

Abigail swallowed and took a deep breath. She reached up to touch his hand her shoulder but thought better of it and dropped it, her hand hanging limp by her side.

"Then what do you want me to do?" she asked softly. Valefor felt his heart writhe at the pain in her voice. He knew this hurt her, that it conflicted and confused her. But it was the truth! The members of the family were nearly destroying themselves being caged up in the house like this, forbidden to interfere with the outside world.

"Accept the Mayor's request, Abigail. Accept it and do it. Perhaps this way, the Askari's can once again emerge out into the open world without rebuke and rejection. Win the day for us." He replied, his voice low as if uttering something he should not. As he spoke, Abigail turned to face him, her expressionless eyes boring deep into his. Valefor watched and waited as Abigail looked up at him, surveying him. Deep inside, he felt a flicker of hope that she'd agree and finally set them all free. He hoped she was the one to have their family reborn into their world again. He hoped, he hoped that she would—

"I will not become their pet, Valefor." She said softly.

Her words cut into his heart. He broke inside, not just for the family, but for her. Why could she not understand? Why could she not see?

Valefor could only watch with pained eyes as Abigail touched his cheek with her cold hand briefly before leaving the room.