Hunters Hunted

I wrote this for the fun of it. Hope you enjoy.

Hunters Hunted!

The old woman shook her head sadly as she gazed at the murdered croft. The bodies of cattle, all bloated and burst like overripe fruit lay in the paddock and the stench was foul. Inside the barn was worse, for the bodies of the family were fixed upon the walls, splayed in grotesque fashion and held in place by some Hellish concoction.

None had been spared, not pretty young Shannon, who was to be wed in a season, or even wee Tam, not ten Summers old. All had been slain, and in such a vile manner, their chests torn open, and their insides spilt upon the cold ground. And just the previous night they'd burnt a wheel at the stone and made offerings to the Goddess to celebrate Samhain.

"And for what?! Pride and vanity is all," she sniffed, "well, this won't stand says I."

***

The creature examined the controls of the ship with a certain level of confusion. The remotes had reported that the local area presented a suitable biome with appropriate lifeforms and so it had been properly seeded in preparation. He and his fellows were keen to begin, and so he had engaged the vessel's cloaking mechanism and manipulated the instruments to bring it down for a successful landing without incident.

Outside a peculiar condensation had wafted about the landing site and for some inexplicable reason it appeared to defy the numerous sensor devices that dotted the hull. The ship's AI had been tasked to analyse this anomaly and it had drawn in samples of the atmosphere for examination, but it had no sooner begun its allotted task when it had suffered a malfunction. First gibbering in some unknown dialect before seeming to shut down in what was effectively an electronic sulk, and nothing the ships artificer could do would so much as stir the stupid thing.

That was when the power gave out.

According to the instruments there was no malfunction. Nothing at all was wrong with the ship's systems or the drive coils, they just refused to work! It was entirely galling.

Nevertheless, they were here now, and creed dictated they must carry out the necessary rituals. There were beasts to stalk, and trophies to be taken so that the rites of passage could be observed, and so he tasked the remotes to locate and resolve the mechanical issues while he and his broodmates had gathered their nets, and harpoons, their blades and spikes. They had armed themselves with shoulder mounted plasma casters and personal shrouds before disembarking in good form and high spirits.

Despite the unexpected malfunctions it would still be a good hunt.

Outside the strange mist seemed to thicken, and again the scanning devices mounted in their helmets struggled to pierce its murky depths. Infra-red was worthless for their prey anyway, but it soon became apparent that ultravision and light intensification were equally useless. The detector measuring micro-changes in air density squawked in dismay for a brief instant and then shut down, and they were electronically blind.

Still, undeterred, they stalked forward for they knew that there was nothing on this primitive, insignificant backwater of a world that could threaten them, save for the prey they themselves had set loose.

A movement up ahead brought his attention back to the business at hand and a curt gesture to his fellows brought the safari to a halt. Weapons were made ready, and the group spread out, moving carefully and stealthily closer to the potential prey.

Then the mist cleared somewhat, and he snorted in disgust.

The primate was sitting there on a mound perhaps ten paces ahead, picking at some of the local flora and making an irritating droning sound, possibly some form of barbaric melody. From the size and shape he guessed the virtually hairless monkey was a female of some kind, dressed in primitive rags and unarmed, save for a crude spear that was thrust point-first into the soil by her side. He sensed the disappointment in his companions at the sight. This worthless creature would be poor prey at best.

He signaled for the party to move on.

The indigenous population of this ridiculous planet were barely tool-using and so had nothing that could penetrate the personal shrouds they all wore, so it was something of a surprise when the creature set aside her garland and looked up at him, "Here now lad, 'tis ill-mannered you are to be sneaking up on an old woman. What would yer ma say?"

Her words halted him in his tracks, and he stared in disbelief, "How is it you know our language."

"Och, I have the gift of the gab you might say. I hear things."

She pointed over her shoulder, "There's a wee croft off yonder. The family there look to have suffered a mishap of sorts. You wouldn't know about that now would ye?"

"We seeded this place. They were probably made hosts by our prey."

She nodded, "Oh! So 'twas you who cursed them. I thought as much. And the wee hobgoblin beasties that hatched from them. That was your devilry, was it?"

"What is "devilry"? I do not know this word."

The primate smiled and stepped closer, "Oh, don't worry, you soon will, lad. Is that yer ship over there?"

"That is our vessel, yes."

"It looks broken."

The Predator was a veteran of many a hunt and it had the keenest of instincts, and despite the puny appearance of this insignificant creature standing before it those instincts began to give it cause for worry, and so it activated a circuit.

With a hiss the plasma caster on its shoulder moved to track the small humanoid, "You have sabotaged our starship?"

She nodded with a smile, "Aye, my will is upon it, and it'll not set sail again until I give ye leave to go, for you have vexed me some, and 'tis not even breakfast yet. Normally 'tis at least noon afore I get this irked."

There was a flash and a roar as the plasma caster spat fiery death!

When the smoke from the blast cleared the female looked up at him, "Now that's just rude."

Blades slid from his wrist sheaths, and he slashed at her, but despite her barely moving his miss was so wide the clumsiness of his slash unsteadied him, and he stumbled to one knee.

The woman stepped back and held up her hand in a placating gesture, "Here now! Behave afore ye do yourself a mischief. If I've spoiled yer sport, then sorry it is that I am, but I tell ye what. I'll not have anyone say I'm a poor host, so let me make amends if ye will."

The Predator shambled back to his feet. The helmet appeared to be malfunctioning so with a hiss of escaping atmosphere it pulled the mask away and snarled.

The primate gave her head a shake, "Och, yer no a bonny loon. Only yer ma could love a face like that."

Placing two fingers to her lips she emitted a high pitched, and thoroughly disagreeable, sound and had his helmet been working he would have recorded it automatically for later analysis and possible duplication.

Moments later the mist was disturbed as another lifeform emerged from the gloom, and the Predators moved back, gripping their weapons as their plasma casters shifted targets.

It stood taller than the tallest among them and was easily broader again by half. Naked and brazen it stood, heavily muscled and hoary, it had long wild hair braided much like their own and its flesh was covered in ritualistic scars. Two great antlers protruded upwards from its mammalian head, and its eyes burned with bloodlust. On its back it bore a quiver crafted from animal skins that held a number of barbed lances. Doubtless they were made in some rudimentary way, from some crude ore probably.

But they still looked sharp enough...

The woman turned to the thing and nodded towards this new menace, "Yon's Herne, he's a bit of a huntsman too. Here, Herne my lad, these bold fellows fancy themselves as hunters, so they do."

Like thunder a deep voice rumbled from its great chest, "Is that so, your Majesty?"

"Aye it is indeed. Now it seems 'twas these lads who loosed yon beasties on the poor crofters hereabouts, which disnea seem very sporting to me, but there you go, it takes all sorts I suppose. How fared you in dealing with such might I ask?"

The tall entity made a dismissive sound, "The homunculi are slain, and piss poor sport they were. They were presumably sorcerous get of some ilk from their demonic blood, but it was thin stuff, hardly worthy of note."

The female nodded sagely, "Ach, sorry I am to be bothering you with such a petty errand, but I'm a wee bit too old to be chasing such hares across the moors these days. Past my prime I am no doubt."

The taller beast snorted a small cloud of sulphureous vapour, "Hardly."

"Kind of ye to say so lad, truly. But I was wondering if ye might do me a wee favour? Seeing as I've gone and spoiled their capers as it were, I was hoping you might indulge an old woman and mayhap introduce these brave fellows to The Wild Hunt? After all, if it's sport, they fancy, then as good hosts it's sport, we should provide methinks. 'Tis only hospitable after all."

The larger creature smiled as it drew a dark spear from its quiver, and strangely it seemed to have far more teeth than it perhaps should, and they all looked particularly sharp. Behind it other shapes, low and feral moved about, "It would be my pleasure. My pack stands poised, and my hounds are... famished."

Plasma casters thundered.

The creature looked down at them in disgust, "Poor shots it seems."

With a distinctly troubling smile, the Morrigan looked up at the Predators.

"If I was you lads, I'd run."