I am a hunter. My job is simple. I go out everyday, find my quarry‘s position, track it, and dispose of it. I do this because I am commanded by my leader. I dare not question him, he is much more powerful than I. I do not enjoy this… I do not dislike it either. I only do what I do, because it is what I was born to do.

I am rarely seen, using my surroundings to hide and dispatch my prey. My timing is always perfect and precise. I am not unknown to my hunt. They know who I am, they know to fear me. They avoid any chance of seeing me, but I hunt them when I am told, and I don’t let any of them get away.

I remember one hunt, I was sent to hunt a powerful prey. It had dark hair, leaves between it’s ears, I caused it to be slain by many daggers. Another prey, an entire herd, living under a mountain. I had to burn them. With another herd, I was forced to release a disease into the population. I have gone on many missions. Sometimes my missions are ordered because the foolish creatures fail to follow it’s rules. Other times it is simply a matter of population control, and sometimes it is to relieve the poor animals unable to control their surroundings. It is not uncommon for my quarry to challenge me. They do it often. They also welcome me sometimes. Sometimes they try to get me to come to them.

I am looked at as a monster, a misunderstanding. I am merely doing what is best for everyone. My logic is simply too complicated for the quarry to understand. I have many names, but for the most part I am known as Death. You are my quarry, my prey, my hunt.