Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest

"I know it's hard," I whispered, my voice gentle yet firm, "but you can trust me."

Abigail's shadowy form remained still, her hollow eyes locked onto mine, filled with a mixture of fear and deep, abiding sadness. The darkness around her seemed to pulse in response to my words as if testing the sincerity of my intent. I kept my movements slow and deliberate, allowing her to sense that I was not a threat.

As I closed the distance between us, I could feel the weight of her suffering pressing down on me, a heavy, oppressive force that had anchored her to this place for far too long.

"You've been trying to gather your strength, haven't you?" I said softly, my tone carrying both understanding and a quiet certainty. "All those Moonberries… they're not just ordinary plants. They're mutated, filled with vitality far beyond that of any normal crop. You were absorbing their energy, trying to grow stronger, preparing yourself for the revenge you've been denied."

The girl's form wavered slightly as if my words had struck a chord within her. I could see the faintest hint of recognition in her eyes, though she remained silent, unable—or perhaps unwilling—to speak. The sorrow and anger that had defined her existence for so long seemed to ripple through the darkness, swirling around us like a living entity.

I slowly raised my hand, palm open, allowing a faint red glow to emanate from my fingertips.

The unique red mana of the moon, the power that had become a part of me, shimmered softly in the dim light, casting an eerie yet calming glow over the darkened forest.

"This mana," I said, my voice steady, "will help you get stronger, faster. It's the energy of the moon, filled with the same vitality you've been seeking. Let me guide you."

A slight smile tugged at the corner of my lips as I watched the girl's form react to the light.

Somehow, it felt fulfilling. It was as if the fire inside me that I had somehow started to forget was being extinguished.

Similar to that at that time.

Maybe it was because of Irina, or was it for another reason, but it made me think.

'This change…It is not that bad.'

Abigail's shadowy figure seemed to hesitate as if torn between fear and curiosity.

She took a tentative step forward, her movements cautious, almost childlike in their uncertainty. The closer she got, the more I could feel the intensity of her emotions, the overwhelming desire for justice that had kept her bound to this place.

"It's okay," I murmured, my voice soft and reassuring. "You don't have to be afraid. I'm here to help you, to give you the strength you need to finally find peace."

The normally berserk red glow from my hand pulsed gently now for some reason, casting a warm light that contrasted with the cold, oppressive darkness surrounding us.

Normally, that energy would make me crave blood, but that was not the case right now.

Abigail's form continued to approach, inching closer with each passing moment. I could see the faint outline of her face more clearly now, the sorrow and pain etched into her features, but also a glimmer of hope—hope that perhaps, after all this time, she might finally be free.

She reached out toward the light, her shadowy hand trembling as it neared mine. The connection was tentative at first as if she was still unsure whether she could trust me. But as our hands met, the red mana flowed between us, a bridge of energy that seemed to fill her.

As our hands touched, the red mana flowed between us, the energy pulsing gently as it filled Abigail's form with a warmth she hadn't felt in years. With each passing second, the darkness surrounding her began to lift, replaced by the strengthening glow of the mana. Her once-transparent, featureless silhouette started to solidify, her form becoming more tangible, more real.

Her face, once hidden in the shadows, slowly revealed itself. Features that had been lost to time and pain began to emerge—delicate yet marred by the remnants of the torment she had endured. Bruises and traces of her suffering became visible on her skin, a stark reminder of the cruelty she had faced. But despite this, there was a quiet dignity in her gaze, a resilience that had kept her spirit from breaking entirely.

As her body continued to take form, hovering slightly above the ground like a ghostly apparition, I could feel the strength within her growing. The red mana coursed through her, imbuing her with the power she had long sought, the power to finally take her revenge.

Abigail's eyes, now fully formed and filled with a mix of emotions, met mine. A single tear, shimmering and ethereal, slid down her cheek, the weight of her sorrow and pain evident in that simple act. Her spirit, though strengthened, still bore the marks of her tragic past, and it was clear that her journey was far from over.

Slowly, I raised my hand and placed it on her head, the gesture tender and reassuring. My fingers passed through her ethereal form, yet it felt as though I was touching something real, something fragile and precious.

As I patted her head softly, Abigail's lips parted, and a small, almost inaudible voice emerged. "Re...ve..ge....." The word was weak, but it carried the full weight of her determination, the resolve that had kept her tethered to this world for so long.

She looked up at me, her eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and sadness. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice trembling with the emotions she could barely express.

There was no smile on her face, no joy in her eyes. She had lost the ability to smile long ago, her spirit too weighed down by the horrors she had endured. Instead, she looked like a sad, broken doll, a reflection of the innocence that had been stolen from her.

'If she were to be alive….Would she make the same expression?'

I wondered. For someone who endured such horrors, could a child really do that?

'Not that it matters now.'

She was no longer here anyway.

With that thought, I met Abigail's gaze with calm resolve, understanding the burden she carried. "I just did what needed to be done," I replied softly. "Go and get what you deserve."

Abigail's form lingered for a moment longer, her eyes holding mine as if searching for some final reassurance. Then, with a slight nod, she began to fade, the red glow of the mana intensifying one last time before her spirit disappeared into the night.

The forest around me grew quiet once more, the oppressive darkness replaced by a serene stillness. The air was lighter now, as if the very land itself was relieved of the burden it had carried for so long.

I stood there for a moment, letting the silence wash over me, before turning away from the ancient tree. Abigail's spirit had found the strength she needed, and now she was free to seek the justice that had been denied to her.

As I stood there in the forest, the silence settling around me like a shroud, the soft chime of my smartwatch broke the stillness. I raised my wrist and glanced at the screen, the message from the organization appearing with a familiar, cold efficiency.

-------------------

FROM: HQ

TO: Astron Natusalune

SUBJECT: Mission Conclusion - Shange Town

Your investigation and actions have been reviewed. Your report was thorough, with clear evidence and detailed accounts. The case is now considered closed.

Instructions: You are to leave the location immediately without further action. A car has been dispatched to the coordinates provided in the attached map. It will take you to your next destination.

Thank you for your service.

HQ

----------------------

I lowered my wrist, the screen's glow fading as I processed the message. My second mission was officially over, and the organization had decided that there was nothing more to be done here. They were efficient, as always, moving on as soon as the objective was achieved, leaving the aftermath for others to deal with.

The forest around me was quiet, almost peaceful, now that Abigail's spirit had been freed. But I knew that peace would be short-lived. The town's reckoning was still to come, driven by the justice she sought in her final moments.

I turned away from the ancient tree and began walking, my steps deliberate as I followed the map's coordinates to the pickup point. The path was clear, the moonlight casting long shadows through the trees, but I felt no urgency. The mission was done, and my work here was finished.

The town of Shange would have to face its own demons now. I had done what I could, and it was time to move on to the next task, whatever that might be.

As I approached the designated location, I saw the faint outline of a car waiting in the distance, its headlights dimmed to avoid drawing attention. The driver was a professional, likely another operative sent to ensure a smooth extraction.

I reached the car, and the driver stepped out to open the door for me without a word. His face was impassive, and his demeanor was focused on the task at hand. I nodded to him in acknowledgment as I slid into the back seat.

The car's interior was quiet; the only sound was the soft purr of the engine as we pulled away from the forest. I leaned back in my seat, my thoughts already shifting to the next mission, the next objective.

Shange Town was behind me now, and whatever lay ahead, I would face it with the same resolve. There was always another mission, another problem to solve, another wrong to right.

The car sped through the night, leaving the town—and its haunted past—far behind.

**********

The night in Shange Town was eerily still, the air thick with a suffocating silence that seemed to press down on the town like a heavy shroud. The moon, half-hidden behind a veil of clouds, cast a faint, pale light over the cobblestone streets, creating long, twisted shadows that danced in the cold wind.

Inside the Mayor's mansion, Alex lay in his bed, his sleep restless. Sweat beaded on his brow as his dreams twisted into nightmares, replaying the events of the day over and over. Abigail's name echoed in his mind, a haunting whisper that refused to fade.

Suddenly, a cold breeze swept through the room, extinguishing the candles and plunging the space into darkness. The temperature dropped sharply, and the silence grew even more oppressive. Mayor Alex stirred, his eyes fluttering open as he sensed something was wrong.

A shadow moved in the corner of the room, almost imperceptible, but there—watching, waiting. Alex's heart pounded in his chest as he sat up, his breath catching in his throat. He tried to speak, but no sound escaped his lips.

Then, the shadow lunged.

Alex's scream was cut short as he felt a searing pain in his eyes. He thrashed wildly, but it was futile. The darkness enveloped him, his vision consumed by agony as unseen hands gouged out his eyes. Blood poured down his face, hot and sticky, and he could feel the presence of something—or someone—standing over him, cold and malevolent.

Before he could react further, sharp, relentless pain erupted in his chest. Again and again, something stabbed into his flesh—eighteen times in total, each strike more brutal than the last. His body convulsed, blood spilling onto the sheets, soaking the bed in crimson. The last thing he heard before slipping into unconsciousness was a faint, childlike whisper—a voice filled with both sorrow and wrath.

"Revenge."

Celia, the Mayor's daughter, was tossing and turning in her own bed, the events of the day swirling in her mind. She had tried to convince herself that it was all just a bad dream, that the things Astron had said were nothing but lies. But deep down, she knew the truth. The guilt gnawed at her, a relentless beast that wouldn't let her rest.

The room grew cold, and Celia shivered, pulling the blanket tighter around her. But the chill only intensified, creeping into her bones. She opened her eyes, only to be met with an unnatural darkness that seemed to swallow the very light.

Suddenly, her body seized up, an invisible force pinning her to the bed. Her bones began to creak, the pressure building within them until the pain became unbearable. Celia screamed, her voice hoarse and filled with terror, but there was no one to hear her.

The darkness moved over her, pressing down like a crushing weight. Her bones snapped one by one, the sound echoing in the empty room like brittle twigs breaking underfoot. The pain was unimaginable, her body wracked with agony as she felt each limb twisted and shattered, her flesh tearing under the pressure.

Blood pooled around her, staining the pristine white sheets a deep, dark red. Her screams grew weaker, her voice fading into whimpers as the life drained from her broken, mangled body. And just before the darkness took her completely, Celia's mind was filled with a single thought—the image of a girl, her face bruised and battered, but her eyes burning with vengeance.

The horrors spread through Shange Town like a plague, one by one. The people who had played a part in the Carpenter family's demise found themselves visited by the vengeful spirit of Abigail.

A woman, once a close friend of Abigail's mother, woke to find her home filled with the scent of rotting flesh. She barely had time to scream before her throat was slit, her blood splattering across the walls in a gruesome display of retribution.

A man who had been one of the boys to torment Abigail felt his limbs freeze in place as he was dragged from his bed, his body lifted into the air by an unseen force. His bones shattered, one by one, before he was left to hang by his neck in the center of his home, his eyes wide with terror, his face contorted in a silent scream.

A farmer who had spread the rumors of witchcraft felt his body ignite from within, a burning sensation that started in his chest and spread through his veins like wildfire. He writhed in agony, clawing at his skin as the flames consumed him from the inside out, leaving nothing but charred remains.

Each death was more horrific than the last, each victim left mutilated and broken, their bodies twisted and defiled in ways that mirrored the pain they had inflicted on Abigail. The town was gripped by fear, the once peaceful night shattered by the sounds of screams and the scent of death.

And as the last echoes of terror faded into the cold night air, Shange Town was left in a silence even more oppressive than before, the spirits of the guilty now joining Abigail in the darkness, forever haunted by the vengeance they had wrought upon themselves.

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