The Wild Luna
Everyone was dead, but me.
Turning back, I finally put a face to the voice. Her skin was covered in freckles and her hair was a wild brown, like she had stuck her finger in a socket. She was carrying a gun in her hands, but what stood out to me was her outfit. I’d seen it once before, in school. It was the Hunter’s uniform. The patch on her arm confirming it.
Hunter’s were mercenaries for hire. Killers for hire, really. The non-magical in the supernatural world. They once were on a death march against all supernaturals, but now they were just raised on how to kill them and were sold to the highest bidder.
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