The Sabbaton Towers. The hub of Anduruna's government and housing. The center of political and social endeavors in the biggest city in the Dreamworld.
To Jerome, it was merely a place to visit, just like any other public location.
A 20-year-old, black-furred fox, Jerome has seen quite a bit of excitement since he was adopted in the nation of Norvondire, the Norvondire District's international counterpart. His foster father also adopted a girl of the same age as him from the same orphanage. They were both infants at that time, so they had yet to be named when he came. He named his son Jerome and his daughter Kali.
Fitting names for two freaks of nature.
Being a Hybrid had its advantages. Jerome, his father and sister, and their two comrades have been guns-for-hire for many years now. Their two comrades, Mephisto and Manticore, had joined them 10 years earlier. Because of their expertise in being assassins and masters of the shadows, Jerome and his family have been renowned as the greatest hitmen in the whole Dreamworld.
However, they have also been renowned as the most feared. Being a Hybrid also had its disadvantages. Hell Hybrid's have been given every name in the book. Devils, freaks, cannibals, sadists, criminals, terrorists, psychopaths, monsters, and above all, Nightmares. The ironic part about being called a Nightmare is that, Hybrids aren't Dreamkeepers or Nightmares. They're a combination of both. This is why Hybrids are always taunted and insulted by everyone and their grandma.
'Why are we here?' Jerome thought to himself. 'Everyone has to exist for some reason, right?'
Jerome would never argue that his people should never have come to be. It has long since been concluded that something mutated in the evolution of Dreamkeepers in the past century that has caused the Hybrids to be born. Perhaps, a Nightmare had entered the Dreamworld and raped a helpless woman. Maybe, it is a mutation in the genes of Dreamkeepers. So far, it has yet to be discovered.
As Jerome walked down the luxurious hallway, along the windows that lined the wall leading to the outside world, he approached his family's private suite.
'Well, no use asking myself unanswered questions. Might as well see what the family is up to.'
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jerome pushed the doors of the suite open.
His family suite was specifically furnished. The walls were painted a dark red. Lamps with black shades sat on tables in each corner of every room and dark gloworbs hung from the ceiling, giving each room an uneasy feeling. The furniture, however, was simply normal, but elegant in the ways of luxury. Because the Hybrids were a special, and rare, race of people, the Viscount of Anduruna was generous enough to show them hospitality.
It was not until almost a hundred years ago that the first sightings of demonic Dreamkeepers were reported in small, lightly-populated towns throughout the Dreamworld. Ever since, dozens of Dreamkeepers in each town banded together, forming angry mobs, to hunt down these monsters. Soon, they were known as Hell Hybrids. The Hell Hybrids look just like your everyday Dreamkeeper, but each Hybrid has their own dark, sinister characteristic to them. It was because of the Hybrids lack of timing that caused them to be quickly hated and frowned upon. It would seem that when a crime is committed, a Hybrid is standing before the crime scene. Instantly, the crime is pinned onto the Hybrid. Of course, this wasn't the case for most Hybrids, as many of them had turned to a life of crime due to their dark nature and appearance, making them wanted criminals.
As the months turned into years, almost all of the Hybrids were vanquished, completely incapable of running away from the dozens of lawmen and bounty hunters constantly chasing them to the edges of the world. It was soon believed, only thirty years ago, that the last remaining Hybrids had gone into hiding, as the Hybrid peacekeeper, Trident, revealed himself to the public eye of Anduruna of being a Hell Hybrid.
Strangely enough, almost nobody in the great city has ever heard of the Hell Hybrids. Those who have and tried to revolt against Trident were quickly arrested by Anduruna shock troopers for disorderly conduct and being a disturbance to the public.
Not long after showing himself, Trident was quickly welcomed as a formal guest to the Sabbaton Towers by Viscount Calah. Seeing this as a grand opportunity, Trident had taken the role as a diplomatic representative of his people. Now, Trident has occasionally socialized with many other diplomats and businessmen in the antechamber, learning much of the government's system.
Finally, it was nearly twenty years ago that Trident travelled to Norvondire to find Jerome and Kali. Realizing that they were Hybrids, he decided to adopt them. Approximately ten years after that, Trident found and "liberated" the Hybrids Manticore, Mephisto, and the eldest of their group, Azrael. Of course, they once had normal names, but quickly believed that these new names were much more suitable.
Now, Jerome looked to the living room of their suite, hearing the voices of his family ring out in laughter.
'Hmm, must be watching the journeyball tournament on the data-scroll. Guess I'll go join them.'
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jerome walked into the living room to find Kali, Manticore, Mephisto, and Azrael sitting in their respective seats, observing the info-scroll. Jerome looked to see a swarm of joggers, running along a path on a mountain. One group was on there own side of the path, another group was on the other. The person leading each group was kicking a round ball up the path while running as quickly as they can. The Norvondire Journeyball competition was underway.
"Zolo Team's gonna win for sure!" Manticore bursted.
"Pfff, as if," Kali countered. "All of their guys are as fat as hell! Aura Team has all the skinny guys. Sure, Zolo's got some built men in there, but that will only get them so far. Odds are strong that Aura's gonna win this year."
"Alright, you wanna bet on that?" Manticore challenged.
"Fine!"
"Hugh, you youngsters and your ridiculous gambling over some trivial scroll program," Azrael sighed. "Haven't you learned anything from your previous financial challenges involving this sport?"
"I agree," Mephisto said. "You two always take these bets too seriously at the end of the competition. Trident had to confine you both to your rooms for a month until you both finally calmed down once."
"Are you kidding me?" Manticore gasped. "That was like three years ago! You still remember that?"
"You both nearly destroyed this whole floor of the Towers! How can ANYONE forget that?!"
Jerome smiled at the bickering kinfolk. They're so enthralled in the argument they haven't even noticed him, everyone except Azrael, who hasn't said anything yet.
Azrael is the oldest of the group, a 72-year-old gray Pit Bull dog. Although, he simply wore a black suit with a stand-out white tie, his behavior deserved him a more colonial, ancestral Andurunan attire. A brilliant politician and aristocrat, Azrael has been able to outtalk any Andurunan diplomat that addressed any topic involving the city's current condition. Though, Trident was the official representative of their family, Azrael has been known to take Trident's place during antechamber meetings.
Mephisto is the third-oldest. A 35-year-old pale green chameleon, "Meth" is the family's camouflage expert and spy. Thanks to his Nightmare blood and his Power of invisibility, he is completely undetectable by every sensory device ever created. Meth is also the wiser young individual, usually agreeing with Azrael's claims, knowing he can never outtalk or outsmart the old man.
Manticore is the fourth-oldest. A 23-year-old pale white bat with blank white eyes, "Manny" is often the sarcastic one. Wearing a black bandanna, tier vest, and fatigue pants, Manny is the groups infiltrator. Manny also possesses one of the teams more disturbing Powers. Manny's Power is the ability to telekinetically control his blood. Whenever he suffers from a wound and blood is exposed, he can coagulate his blood at an accelerated rate and turn it into adhesive strands of material. He can turn his own blood into a weapon, creating whip-like ropes that can attach themselves to his enemies and can flail them about the area, turning them into helpless ragdolls. He is also known to be a sadist, laughing and cackling as he mutilates his target's body.
Finally, Jerome and Kali are the youngest. A 20-year-old gray wolf, Kali is sometimes the most vicious of the family. Wearing claws on her fingers welded to rings, she can use her Power to create beams of energy along her clawed rings to promptly rend her target apart in a matter of seconds. Being a wolf, she is also one of the best trackers and hunters in the world.
Jerome, however, tends to be one of the most intriguing individuals among them all. His Power is the most unique of them all. His Power can only be used if he kills or inflicts enough damage to enough living creatures to initiate his Power. Dreamkeepers, Nightmares, animals, plants, amoebas, didn't matter. If it has any kind of life to it, Jerome can take it to fuel his Power. Once his Power has enough energy, he can initiate it. Once that happens, Jerome becomes a mindless, animalistic demon, hell-bent on slaughtering everything in sight. His black fur and clothes instantly turn white in a blast of orange light. His eyes turn black while his yellow pupils turn blue. The only thing controlling him in this state is his sub-conscience. Without it, he would most certainly kill his own family and friends during bounty hunts. His Power eventually dies down on its own. His sub-conscience has never been strong enough to control the amount of energy his Power burns off. On a positive side, he can summon two dual katanas, by his own will, out of thin air. However, he usually doesn't use them, since he carries a special custom six-shooter revolver, made specifically in Norvondire.
"Huh?" Manny looks up to notice Jerome leaning in the doorway. "Heh-HEY! Jerry! You're home! Grab a seat!"
Jerome grinned and plopped on the couch next to Manny and Kali.
"So, I guess I'm too early to avoid the shit storm argument when this game's over?" Jerome asked, looking at Meth.
Manny flicked Jerome in the ear. "Watch it, smartass! You'd be pissed off, too, if someone wouldn't pay you on a bet."
"Not really. I'd just kill them later on and take whatever kind of money they have on them."
Azrael mumbled, rubbing his head at the juvenile conversations. Meth simply snorted a laugh and continued watching the game.
Suddenly, the front doors slammed.
"Ah, well, look who decided to return home, as well," Azrael said in delight.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
All eyes turned to the doorway as a tall, dark figure moved into the living room.
A 50-year old black wolf, Trident is the leader of their bounty hunting group and head of the family. Wearing a bizarre outfit, a black helmet, a muzzle mask, blue-lensed goggles, fatigues and boots, and a buttoned trenchcoat, Trident was the darkest of the group by appearance. Though, he seems to be a towering figure, both he and Jerome are six feet tall. Trident is more of a quiet individual and sometimes doesn't speak unless he has something worthwhile or sarcastic to say. Being the second-oldest of the group, he is the only person that Azrael can properly talk to. For as long as everybody has ever known him, just about everyone knows about Trident and his Power. His Power is based on psychokinesis. The ability to move just about anything using the mind or probing the minds of others. Many diplomats of Anduruna have trembled in Trident's presence, claiming that they sometimes see hellish images when they just look at him. Many times before, the family is saved by Trident's psychokinetic powers. Deflecting gunfire, creating paths through inaccessible routes, using debris as weapons; Trident can do almost anything. Most notable of his Power, however, is the ability to control minds. A target's bodyguards would turn their guns on themselves because of Trident's mind control. Many Dreamkeepers have been found dead, apparently having committed suicide. In truth, Trident's Power was the cause of their deaths. For many years, Trident has worked diligently to master his Power. Jerome could never understand why. He was already an expert at using it. Jerome eventually had a hunch that Trident may be planning something big against the Andurunan government. Of course, Jerome never went any futher into investigating that theory. Trident has always claimed that he has never entered their minds to read their thoughts. Even though Trident was his own father, Jerome had his suspicions about that claim.
"Well, look who it is! The big man himself!" Manny called out.
"Welcome home, Trident," Azrael said politely.
"Hello, everyone," Trident replied in his low, rasping voice in the mask. "I see you're all here. Perfect! We have a new contract available. Though, I think one of us will be enough for the job."
"Better save your breath, Mr. T. The Journeyball competition is on," Meth said, pointing at the info-scroll.
Trident rasped in his mask, which was probably a sigh. "I swear to Nethers, if you two are betting again...."
"What, us?!" Manny exclaimed. Noooooo!"
"Damn, you are such a bad liar," Jerome mumbled.
"Relax, Dad, we won't bet this time," Kali replied. "But, can we wait until after this is over? It'll be like fifteen minutes."
"Alright, fifteen minutes," Trident agreed, then took up a chair next to Azrael.
Even though it was business, they're still a family.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After the Journeyball game was over, the assassins all gathered at the dining table. Trident slapped a large folder onto the table.
"Whoa, that's one big profile for a target," Manny commented. "Are we finally going after Scinter and his pals?"
"No, and this one file isn't based on just one person," Trident replied. "We've got a multiple bounty hunt on our hands here."
Trident opened the folder and began pulling out pages.
"We have four targets. Two of them orphans from the Margate district, two of them are the Viscount's daughters. You've probably heard all about the orphanage dockyard murder and the antechamber being demolished. Well, the two boys are the ones who murdered one of their own at the orphanage and helped the Viscount's daughters trash the antechamber. Why they did all this, I haven't even a guess. But, that doesn't matter. What does matter is that Anduruna Security has put some decent prices on their heads. Individually, we'd be better off going after Igrath Winters or that fermentae black market seller Scinter, but altogether, these kids are worth it."
The target profiles were all passed around until they were all returned to Trident.
"This is most troubling," Azrael said. "Why would Lilith and Namah Calah destroy the antechamber, alongside two young men, and how? According to the reports, no weapons of any kind were used to do damage. No way they could've damaged the antechamber with their bare hands. Apparently, they used their Powers."
"But, how the hell did they get past fifty floors of security?" Meth pointed out. "Being the spy expert here, I seriously doubt they just turned invisible and waltzed right past the checkpoints. And, ever since Namah Calah's escape attempt years ago through the ventilation system, sensors have been installed on the lower floors to monitor any unusual activity in the ducts. Something's not adding up here."
"Well, they are the Viscount's daughters," Kali added. "Perhaps, they convinced security that the boys were honored guests."
"Not likely," Jerome disagreed. "Male orphans from the Margate district, used as child laborers? Maybe, that's considered honorable from a generosity standpoint, but like I said, not likely."
"Well, I agree with Meth about the nonsensical parts of this," Manny said. "Where did all the security in the antechamber go? That chamber is rather important, even when it's empty. Either, they were ordered away to help prepare the Harvest Festival around that time or something else was going on. Something that we probably don't know about."
Manny gave an expression that indicated he suspected a conspiracy.
"Oh, come on, a conspiracy?!" Jerome shouted. "Who would want to frame the Viscount's daughters and two orphans?"
"Tinsel Nanaja?"
All looked at Meth. "She's been getting fucked by the Viscount for over a decade now and has finally become his fiancee. She may be planning to get rid of his daughters in fear of her popularity."
"Yeah, that sounds like a good reason as any, in her case," Manny replied.
"Whatever the reasons may be for all this, it still doesn't matter," Trident concluded. "What matters is the money. We're going to need it if we're going to travel the world searching for more of our people. I already said this is enough of a job for one of us, so... you want take this, son?"
Everyone looked to Jerome. He shrugged. "Meh, okay. Got nothing better to do. What's the bounty and conditions?"
"10,000 lucre each for the daughters, 2,500 lucre each for the orphans. Alive for the daughters; Dead or alive for the orphans."
Jerome nodded. "Cool. Where should I start?"
"I suggest tracking down the small fry first. Try looking for the boys at the orphanage. My guess is they'll probably try to grab any valuables, regroup with the girls, then it may get tricky after that."
Jerome stood from his seat. "Alright, I guess I'm off."
"Aw, c'mon!" Manny boasted. "You sure you don't want some company? They might give you a booboo with rocks and sticks. You wouldn't want that, now, would you?"
Jerome kept walking to the door. "Very funny, asshole!"
He walked out of the suite and headed for the Telepad Station.
'Good thing they're orphans like I used to be, or I might've wasted them,' Jerome thought. 'But, if they give me any trouble, I'll waste them, anyway.'
With that, he proceeded to the Margate district.
The hunt was on.
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