The city of Ravenhide was bustling with life. People were rushing back and forth, going
about their daily routines. The sound of endless chatter, footsteps, and vehicles created a
typical city ambiance.
A row of tiny stalls lined every street with merchants advertising
their goods. They were selling books, clothing, weapons, food, souvenirs, and other strange trinkets.
"I'm by far the best merchant here, Come take a look at my goods without fear." One of the weapon merchants shouted over the megaphone.
A mysterious hooded figure could always be seen walking around at night, mostly in the middle district, not the least bit bothered by the dangers around him. He had a sword strapped to his back with only the golden hilt exposed. The hilt glistened under the streaks of moonlight that shone through thick, dark clouds. Even the police never interfered with stuff when it was beyond six o'clock in the evening. The streets were empty, and the whole place was silent except for the rustling of leaves in the chill night wind and the occasional sound of raccoons and cats digging through the tall pile of garbage from overflowing dumpsters.
His footsteps tapped lightly on the wet pavement as he walked. It had just rained, and the pleasant smell of wet asphalt still lingered in the cool night air.
He was approaching the center of Ravenhide town, where a giant red clock tower stood tall. It was about to hit midnight.
In front of the clock tower stood a golden statue of Sylvia Ravenhide, the fearless warrior who founded the city of Ravenhide. He couldn't help but feel a strange connection to her. The statue held a sword in her right hand and a thick leather-bound book, which she clutched close to her chest. The words roughly translate to having brains and brawn. The gold paint had faded to a pale silver in places where people regularly touched the statue. It was believed that the statue possessed powers that could heal and give confidence, strength, and knowledge.
Nothing exciting had happened for a long time, until today. A lone woman was sitting by the sidewalk, sobbing. She was approached by five shady-looking men, who asked her what was up and if she needed help or a ride home.
Tiny silhouettes of people could be seen gathering in the windows of the surrounding townhouses, all curious to get a glimpse of the drama that was about to unfold. One of the men attempted to pull her to her feet.
"Let me get a good look at you, honey....HICCC"
The mysterious stranger took a deep breath and spoke calmly
"Leave her be, There is still time to flee,
Run now dear dimwits, Before you regret it."
All five of the thugs were obviously drunk. Three of them were armed with a baseball bat, and another was waving an empty whiskey bottle, while the guy who grabbed the woman was unarmed.
"Who might you be? A knight in shining armor?" One of them asked him. The fourth guy ran at him, swinging his whiskey bottle, preparing to hit the stranger with his drunken aim.
The stranger stepped to the side, dodging the blow while the guy tripped and fell, head first into a puddle.
"You see, I politely asked you to flee,
Take heed, dear dimwitted drunkards, or else the empty street will soon be decorated with your innards."
"The woman before you isn't what she seems,
She's a creature that plagues your nightmares and dreams."
The drunk who fell in the puddle had passed out, and one other guy who wasn't as drunk as his friends stood beside the hooded stranger, trembling in fear. The woman was now feeding on the drunk who had picked her up. Pieces of meat hung from her sharp teeth while she chewed and groaned loudly, blood dripping from the edges of her mouth onto her thin, slender form, soaking the yellow dress that she wore. Her long, sharp tongue slithered in and out of her mouth as she licked the blood on her face.
The drunk who was missing half of his jaw fidgeted and gasped under her grip as she made her way to his neck. Apparently, he wasn't dead….at least not yet.
"Guess I was a little too late," the hooded stranger exclaimed. The drunk who stood beside him witnessed the spectacle in shock, frozen in fear. The woman, now satisfied with her meal, stuck her claws into the guy's chest, instantly killing him, and turned towards them.
The stranger nudged the guy beside him, beckoning him to leave. He managed to break free from his fear and start running, screaming along the way.
"Women and demons they're one and the same,
You can spell 'omen' from both of their names,
This one, in particular, seems to have no shame."
The stranger taunted her with a rhyme, hoping that he would provoke her enough for the woman to launch a rage-filled, albeit clumsy attack on him, but he was surprised when she kept her cool.
"Do you have something against women, handsome?" She asked him, lifting an eyebrow while licking her blood-stained lips. He shrugged. From under his hood, his iris glowed a light gold as he unsheathed the sword that was strapped to his back. A shiny, sleek, long sword glimmered under the moonlight. The sword had unintelligible engravings carved onto the flawless, silvery white steel.
The creature became agitated; she bared her fangs and hissed at him. Her appearance started to change, her fangs grew longer and her claws sharper. She lunged at him, preparing to dig both sets of claws into his face.
He spun around just when her claws were a few millimeters away from his face, dodging the attack, cutting her right hand off in one swift motion. She screeched in pain and jumped backward, landing on her behind as her severed arm went up in flames. He reached for his handgun, switched off the safety, and shot her between the eyes. She made a high-pitched, glass-shattering shriek and dropped to the ground, still twitching.
He emptied the gun with a few more shots to her head, reloading and strapping the gun back into its holster. She had stopped moving. He nudged the side of her body with his boot just to make sure. He then mumbled something under his breath and snapped his fingers. Her body erupted into flames and vanished instantly, leaving nothing behind, not even ashes.
Monster parts were a valuable commodity in Ravenhide so it was best to leave no traces behind. He was lucky enough to have stumbled upon a regular banshee.
"I hope you have a good rest in hell, They say it's way better than a cheap motel." He muttered, smiling. The drunk who had previously passed out approached him.
"It's fine Sir, I'll handle it from here, and sorry about our behavior earlier. Life wouldn't be the same without Dave but it was our mistake."
The guy apologized, pointing at his dead friend. There were many light flickers from the windows of the surrounding buildings as people were taking pictures and recording the scene. The hooded stranger sighed and turned towards the man.
"You can call me GK, it's short for Golden Knight, If you're ever in trouble, I will lend you my might."
"There is no victory without pain, I won't rest until my enemies are slain." The stranger told him and handed him a shiny black business card with the number 333 embossed in gold at the front; no other information was given on it. Just dial 333 and wait for me, I will come to thee. Do not worry, as you won't be charged for the call, so relax, enjoy, and have a ball.
The man scratched his head, wondering how he was going to enjoy himself if he was in danger. The mysterious GK turned around and left the scene, whistling a calming tune that seemed to have lifted the drunkard's spirits, giving him hope for a better future.
There were three prominent districts in Ravenhide: the upper, middle, and lower districts. The upper district was inhabited by the rich and was the safest compared to the other two. The social hierarchy varied greatly among these three districts. The upper class had better equipment and thus better protection from monstrosities and creatures that shared the place with regular humans.
Monsters, demon spawns, lesser vampires, and other otherworldly creatures inhabited the lower districts. The place had many names, and crime was most prevalent there. The middle district was a merchant's paradise. Businessmen from all over came to the middle district to sell their wares and bargain for goods. Despite what it looked like in the daytime, things changed at night, even in the upper district.
The city was a ghost town, quiet and abandoned. All the shops were either closed or gone, except for a select few places like brothels, nightclubs, and hotels. Most of the crime occurred at night.
Murders, break-ins, gang fights, and monster attacks. The city was never peaceful, and various guilds were established to deal with the many problems that plagued Ravenhide since the authorities couldn't care less about the public's safety.
The lower district, however, was most active at night. There weren't many humans living in the lower districts.
Only those who were proficient in the offensive and defensive arts, be it sword fighting, martial arts, magic, or non-humans who preferred the company of their species, dared to venture into the lower districts.
The red light district in this area was the busiest with lust-filled inhabitants seeking the company of usually harmless succubus who promised to provide customers with an unforgettable experience.
Lately the monsters had gotten stronger and the number of casualties had increased and
the mysterious GK was determined to find out more.