Chapter 5: Eyes on the target.

The director of the Salvation Hunters tossed a target file across the table. His scornful eyes raked over the brunette before him - those downturned golden eyes, the bangs carefully arranged to hide his right eye completely. "The next target is one of the most dangerous in Lusol," the director said. "Barely anything is known about it. Those files are barely 2 pages long, but for you Xavier, your skills are exceptional. I'm sure that's all you need to hear." He leaned back in his chair and waved his hand in dismissal.

Xavier smiled like it had been screwed onto his cheeks, making the director uneasy. "Understood, mr. director.." He turned and exited. Behind him, the director muttered curses: "That little- despite being here longer than me, I'm still his boss, son of-" He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "I need to chain him down somehow..." Refocusing on his work, he picked up another file with a photo attached.

The office outside was cold with air conditioning. Others like him wore uniforms as formality for this 'Association'. They stared but looked away when he passed. Despite the nature of their work, they treated it like everyday office drudgery. Not that Xavier cared.

In the locker room, he changed out of his uniform. His bag held snacks, ammo and his sniper rifle. Phone in one hand, the two-page file in the other, earbuds playing a soft melody, he stepped outside.

City lights and traffic noise surrounded him despite his earphones. Soon he reached a skyscraper and took the elevator up, tearing open a snack bag and crunching as he stepped out at the top floor.

From the skyscraper's edge, the city bustled below. He sat overlooking the view, pulling binoculars from his bag to scan the alleys away from the crowds. Another bite of his snack. Then movement - another Association recruit. 'So they recruited another one?' He adjusted the focus wheel. As a sniper, he enjoyed observing how newcomers handled their first mission. Would they flee in fear? Succeed? Question themselves? Through the lenses, he saw the target pinned down, mouth moving in what he guessed were pleas for life. The scene felt uncomfortably familiar.

Another crunch. The salty snack turned bitter on his tongue as he watched. The vampire - no, the person - was gagged and tortured to death. Desire, desperation and joy played across the hunter's face as they took pleasure in another's pain. From his vantage point, Xavier witnessed how humans were no different from the monsters they hunted.

Quietly, he unzipped his bag and assembled the rifle parts. Laying the gun across his lap, he aimed at the new hunter, displeasure twisting his features. Distant footsteps rustled on the rooftop behind him. He focused his left eye through the scope. 'A hunters death will be covered up and forgotten like they did not exist at all, no matter how loyal they are to the association, sooner or later, i will too.' The thought barely formed before he pulled the trigger. The hunter dropped instantly with the rifle's recoil.

The footsteps grew louder. 'If there is a chance to change those odds, I'll take that chance.' A sharp impact to his head knocked him unconscious - exactly as he'd planned. Always scrambling for scraps of a life to call his own.

He awoke in a dark room, vampires lining the walls. One stood before him wearing gloves, examining his two-page target file. Blood trickled down his head. Dizzy, vision blurry, but his mind remained clear - good. They'd tied him tightly to a metal pole, bruises already forming.

A rustle as the vampires bowed slightly to greet his target. What the Association called Blood Bark, these people called Lusalle. The man looked down at him.

"Quite petite for a hunter." His assistant responded: "From my research, the hunter's name is Xavier Zandriche, He's the late Zandriche's son and was one of the manufacturers of Blood Pills sir. From what I know, he joined the Salvation Hunters shortly after Sir Zandriche died. He killed multiple of ours from a distance and recently started to shoot a few of his own colleagues."

Lusalle paused, palm against his lips, dark purple eyes piercing. "From your actions... you've been wanting to catch my attention, haven't you?" He crouched to meet Xavier's gaze.

The question Xavier had waited for. He smiled. "I'm here for a proposition. I'm Sure you have seen what happened after those deaths of my colleagues, merely livestock killed when they're of no use. I'm sure you know exactly what I want."

"What makes you think I can grant you that."

"I'm the greatest pawn you have. I'm sure you want to stay hidden, no?"

Silence stretched between them. Lusalle's intense stare seemed capable of piercing straight through him. Finally: "Untie and treat his wounds." To his assistant: "I suggest you keep your mouth shut, if you want my trust. My assistant will come for you, when you are needed." With that, he left the dark room as his men began untying Xavier.

Through messy brown strands, Xavier's golden eye memorized Lusalle's silver hair as he walked away. He smiled to himself - he'd live another day.

Dumped in an alley with his bag and belongings intact, only a small head wound to show for it, Xavier fished painkillers from his pocket. Leaning against the brick wall, he sighed and lifted the target file again. 'Blood Bark' it read, his finger traced the name on the paper. Eyes on the target. Aim for my survival.

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