guy’s attention. This time it’s Max Burond, a punk rocker with a green mohawk and a garage band. He’s fairly new to The Exterminators, only a C level Puny. Angie wouldn’t be caught dead with someone that low in rank, especially since she is an Angel like me. Of the 22 Exterminators currently in service, only 4 of us are Angels. There’s really nowhere for us to go from here except winning the Famine Festival and bringing glory to ourselves.
“Exterminators! Stand at attention!”
At the sound of Malcolm Whisker’s voice, we all rush to stand in formation. Angels are always at the front, followed by Supers, Commons, and then Punys bringing up the rear. Malcolm is intimidating as our leader, but is as talented as all of us combined. He’s been chasing down paranormal for dozens of years, so none of us are about to undermine his authority. The last time that happened, Jasper Rhea was tied up to a tree and used to teach us target practice.
“Today is the last day of practice. Some of you aren’t anywhere near ready to compete this weekend, and I’m not about to let you make a fool out of us. Spencer, Raegan, Timothy, Helena, and Scotch — the five of you have a lot to prove today or else you’re out. The rest of you will be working on stealth practice.” Malcolm is a tall African American man with a fierce expression on his face at all times. His uniform is solid black and his medals of honor from previous Famine Festivals adorn his jacket. At his side is a whip, and he’s not afraid to use it. “Get to it.”
I sigh and glance over at Angie.
“I feel like all we do is stealth practice. It’s my strongest field and I was really hoping we were going to work on Trapping or Climbing instead,” I complain in a concealed volume to Angie.
“Ugh, not me. I am as stealthy as a bulldog with a stuffy nose. I’m basically just relying on my brute force to nab me some werewolves on Saturday. I’ll be happy to practice sneaking around to see if I can pick up some last minute pointers.” Angie saunters off quickly as if to avoid being followed by her not-so-secret admirer.
I concentrate hard and felt my body coalesce into a faded version of itself. Stealth is extremely handy. The ability to blend in with my surroundings has always been a talent of mine, even before I joined up with The Exterminators. I’ve never had a personality that really stood out from the crowd, was never the popular kid at school. I quietly sneak into the woods and creep my way through, looking for any sort of prey.
The paranormal know better than to enter these woods, so much of our practice is done on the local vermin. The Extermination Council spends a ton of money and time on keeping the woods restocked with mice, deer, and raccoons so that we can always keep our skills sharp. I stand without motion behind an oak tree, feeling my breathing grow deeper and more spaced out. Werewolves are incredibly fast so there is no use attacking them outright without some kind of element of surprise. Stealth helps us sneak up on the unsuspecting, such as this adorable little rabbit sniffing and hopping about.
My vision is perfect and I lock in on the furry brown critter. I see its nose twitching and watch as it scratches its side with a hind leg. With one fluid motion I remove a short dagger from its sheath at my side and fling it at the rabbit. The knife pierces the skull and the bunny lies lifeless. Being an Exterminator isn’t glamorous, and not all of our victims are threatening. It’s one of my least favorite parts of this job, and I’m eager to rank first in the Famine Festival so that I don’t have to practice on vermin anymore.
“Nice shot.” I spin around to figure out where the male voice came from and see no one behind me. I turn another 90 degrees to the right and still cannot find the source of the sound. “That evil thing totally had it coming to him.” The voice continues from behind me again.
“Where the fuck are
“Exterminators! Stand at attention!”
At the sound of Malcolm Whisker’s voice, we all rush to stand in formation. Angels are always at the front, followed by Supers, Commons, and then Punys bringing up the rear. Malcolm is intimidating as our leader, but is as talented as all of us combined. He’s been chasing down paranormal for dozens of years, so none of us are about to undermine his authority. The last time that happened, Jasper Rhea was tied up to a tree and used to teach us target practice.
“Today is the last day of practice. Some of you aren’t anywhere near ready to compete this weekend, and I’m not about to let you make a fool out of us. Spencer, Raegan, Timothy, Helena, and Scotch — the five of you have a lot to prove today or else you’re out. The rest of you will be working on stealth practice.” Malcolm is a tall African American man with a fierce expression on his face at all times. His uniform is solid black and his medals of honor from previous Famine Festivals adorn his jacket. At his side is a whip, and he’s not afraid to use it. “Get to it.”
I sigh and glance over at Angie.
“I feel like all we do is stealth practice. It’s my strongest field and I was really hoping we were going to work on Trapping or Climbing instead,” I complain in a concealed volume to Angie.
“Ugh, not me. I am as stealthy as a bulldog with a stuffy nose. I’m basically just relying on my brute force to nab me some werewolves on Saturday. I’ll be happy to practice sneaking around to see if I can pick up some last minute pointers.” Angie saunters off quickly as if to avoid being followed by her not-so-secret admirer.
I concentrate hard and felt my body coalesce into a faded version of itself. Stealth is extremely handy. The ability to blend in with my surroundings has always been a talent of mine, even before I joined up with The Exterminators. I’ve never had a personality that really stood out from the crowd, was never the popular kid at school. I quietly sneak into the woods and creep my way through, looking for any sort of prey.
The paranormal know better than to enter these woods, so much of our practice is done on the local vermin. The Extermination Council spends a ton of money and time on keeping the woods restocked with mice, deer, and raccoons so that we can always keep our skills sharp. I stand without motion behind an oak tree, feeling my breathing grow deeper and more spaced out. Werewolves are incredibly fast so there is no use attacking them outright without some kind of element of surprise. Stealth helps us sneak up on the unsuspecting, such as this adorable little rabbit sniffing and hopping about.
My vision is perfect and I lock in on the furry brown critter. I see its nose twitching and watch as it scratches its side with a hind leg. With one fluid motion I remove a short dagger from its sheath at my side and fling it at the rabbit. The knife pierces the skull and the bunny lies lifeless. Being an Exterminator isn’t glamorous, and not all of our victims are threatening. It’s one of my least favorite parts of this job, and I’m eager to rank first in the Famine Festival so that I don’t have to practice on vermin anymore.
“Nice shot.” I spin around to figure out where the male voice came from and see no one behind me. I turn another 90 degrees to the right and still cannot find the source of the sound. “That evil thing totally had it coming to him.” The voice continues from behind me again.
“Where the fuck are
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