The Therteenth Child

The Red Hunter slowly walked through the dark and damp tunnels of the subway line. The night vision capability in his goggles made sure that the pitch black tunnel was as bright as day to him. This was the first time he operated out side of his own city. He had no choice though. Back in Westmoor City a child molester and pornographer operated for mouths until Red "caught his sent" as it were. The molester was responsible for the disappearance of twelve children. Three boys and nine girls. Red shuddered at the thought of what that sick man did to them or what will he do to them. That immense feeling of disgust hurried him onward through the darkness. He was determent that no more children will go missing because of him.

The subway had many severance tunnels and passages for maintenance workers and engineers. Every couple of meters Red saw a locked door leading into theses passages. He knew they were rarely used. They were relics from a technologically simpler era when the New York subway was in it's infants. These old hallways are little more then abandoned now and they were a perfect way to get around unseen by the public of a subway station.

He thought back to the day when he finally found the sickos hideout. He was certain that he never felt so disgusted, but he had bin wrong before. He couldn't believe who the creep really was. The hideout was hidden in the back of a small yet popular architectural firm on the west side. The bastard was a humble yet respected architect by the name of Brian Douglas. The same name Red also found on a travel arrangement contract to New York City in his trash bin. That's what brought him to the Big Apple. The trail he managed to scare up from a few gangs lead him here, to the old parts of New York sub way. Turns out that the bastard wasn't working alone as well. No matter.

Sixth door on the right side of the the #24 tunnel was close by. There he would find dozens of homeless seeking shelter and refuge and, quite possibly, Douglas' new secret establishment for his twisted industry. Red came all the way to New York for this monster of a man. He literally threatened himself with death if he failed again. Douglas eluded him once, not again.

Gwharr had defiantely had enough of civilization for today. It was dangerous out there, filled with those strange devices and people who screamed and the blue-boys with bangsticks who tried to hurt him, always with the hurting. He had survived another day too, and had retreated into the place that was as closed to "home" as he could come in this crazy new world. The tunnels where cooler than the streets above, and even though there was the occasional train going by, and the constant "muffle" of city noises the tunnels where quiet. They where empty when he came here, apart from a few shabby-looking humans, but he had driven them away, there were more tunnels they could haunt, but these tunnels where now his.

Even though he had only lived down here a couple of months, the floors where already littered with discarded bones and skulls of animals, some broken, some not, but all were notoriously free of meet. The occasional bitemark showing that they had been gnawed on. The pelts of said animals where hung up randomly on the walls presumably to serve as decoration, to isolate or simply to dry. Gwharr had made no secret that the tunnels were inhabited, and the bones usually scared freeloaders away.

He noisily devouring a dog when he heard the footsteps. The tunnels carried noise very well, wich Gwharr liked. It was almost impossible to sneak down here, and so it was very hard to sneak up on him here on his home turf. The giant sub-neanderthal snarled as he tried to judge how far away the man was, but it was hard to determine. He instinctively reached for his "Club" wich was basically five and a half feet of broken-off lamp-post 'improved' with a score of railroad-nails sticking out of the top in all directions He Howled viciously and beat his chest before he decided to take up the hunt, giving the intruder a chance to leave his domain before he ended his life. He cackled as he swung bounded through the corridors towards the intruder, alternating between bounding along on three limbs like on the ground like a gorilla and swinging through the air using his long arms to grab ahold of cracks and loose cables.

Red knelt down, his IR vision mode switched on. He saw a large quotation of shoo prints. Probably the homeless. But the strange thing about the tracks was that they all seemed to be heading in one single direction. Probably the train workers chased them out. There were rumors that the mayor of the Big Apple was planning to renovate some parts of the more rundown subway tunnels. Then he noticed something. He pushed a small stud on his eye piece and a small digital camera snapped a few pictures of the ground because he also saw the shoo prints he saw back in Westmoor, in the secret chambers of Brian Douglas' apartment. Now he knew that he was on the right trail.

Suddenly a beastly cry echoed through the damp tunnels. It sounded like nothing he ever heard before and yet... it sounded somewhat human. The cry was followed by a series of distant thumps that got louder and louder. The thing, whatever it was, was approaching. Red spread his legs slightly thus achieving the balance needed to fight. He pulled out one of his Glocks in left hand while he flexed his right arm so that the forearm blade popped out, ready to be used.

By the sounds that his yet unseen adversary was making, who obviously wasn't all that keen on subtlety, Red estimated that the thing will come through a large looking tunnel to his right. He turned and readied himself for what ever was coming. And that's when he saw it.

It did not take long for our heroic caveman to find the intruder. It was a human, although strangely dressed. He was probably a warrior of some sort, since he wore what basically looked like some sort of combat-armour. He didn't look anything like the sort of people that he usually got down here, in fact he looked more like the one of the bothersome people that showed up whenever he decided to eat an unauthorized dog. Yet another reason to get rid of the man somehow

He snarled lowly, showing a robe of uneven teeth, a trickle of salivia pouring down from his mouth, dropping onto the floor, an action that perfectly illustrated his rather unfreindly demeneor. Even though he did not know it, he probably looked rather strange to the man. A seven-foot man, almost as broad as he was tall with gorilla-like inhumanly muscular arms, and a face that looked to be somewhere between a human and an ape. He was dressed in a tattered pair of jeans, held up with a rope, a shirt that was held together with what looked like animal-sinews and over it a thick overcoat, "repaired" with patches of dog-pelts here and there.

He thumped his massive lightpost-club into the ground, shattering the concrete floor slightly as a warning to the man to not proceed further. before slowly aproaching him, the club held up slightly, just enough to quickly strike if the other man made a quick move. "This cave is belong to Gwharr! All who come are food for Gwharr! Why do man come here?" the caveman snarled, his voice far too deep and booming to belong to anything human. He then proceeded to snarl quietly, seemingly ready to fight if it were nessecary.

Red's eyes widened beneath his mask. A huge lumbering creature, probably 7 feet or more, was lumbering toward him. For a moment he thought it was a mutant or something. He turned his goggles to night vision and saw that he was wrong. He couldn't believe it, but judging by the contours of it's face, it's bearing and body structure, Red realized that he was standing before a creature he had only seen in history books and Guyco commercials (at those rare moment he actually watched TV. He hates TV). A goddamn caveman.

Red readied to fight if necessary, clenching his fists, feeling the glove fabric tightening around his knuckles. But then the caveman stopped and slammed a light post he was holding as a club, to the floor cracking it. Red was ready to raise his arms to take up a fighting stance when the savage spoke.

"This cave is belong to Gwharr! All who come are food for Gwharr! Why do man come here?"

For a short moment, Red was astonished to hear a being like it...um.... him speak. And in English (though broken) at that. The caveman, who called himself Gwharr, looked like he was ready to strike Red down in one swipe of the improvised club. Red had to calm the situation down. As incredible and mind-boggling as it was, he had more important things to take care of. He lowered his arms and though of what to say, hopping that he was speaking simple enough for the big guy.

"I'm looking for some very bad men. They did evil things. I have to find them and stop them" Red's voice, deep and distorted, echoed through the tunnel even though he wasn't yelling. These tunnels really aren't good for subtlety.

Gwharr's vicous snarling died off as soon as the man lowered his hands and explained about his presence in the tunnels. He scratched his chin thoughtfully as he considered it. This was a good thing, a legitimate reason to cross his territory, not to mention an interesting one. and visibly calmed, lowering the dangerous, spiky end of his improvised club so that it touched the ground. The caveman visibly relaxed, and slowly and carefully moved forward, seemingly exaggerating his movements so that the intruder would see that he meant no harm or were trying any tricks. When he had gotten within aproximately eight feet, he abruptly sat down , still keeping his small, pig-like eyes fixed on the masked man. "talk." he said gutturally, nodding eagerly at the man.

The caveman's oversized torso and undersized had the peculiar effect to make his head only marginally closer to the ground than the intruders, even though he was sitting down. he breathed heavily snorting occasionally, still seeming slightly jittery, his thick, greasy mane of black hair, fell around his face, partly obscuring it from view. "To want to know why you chase bad men. What they do to you? To think let you go if you tells me." The Brute said, whilst speaking slowly and gutturally, his voice was slightly less beastial now than when they had first met.

He was rather curious as to why this little man was out for blood. The thin ones upside seemed to be forbidden to seek vengence or anything else really. They could not fight at all. It was strange, backwards and wrong and he could not help but to think that the poor devils would be better off if they ran away from the city.

Red thought carefully of what to say next. The caveman was obviously a loner which meant that he wouldn't tell anyone about his mission or his presence in the city.

"They didn't do anything to me. It's what they did to other is what angers me. They did terrible things to twelve children" he mimicked the number with his hands "The have taken them from there parents and..." rage built up in Red's voice as he remembered all the "equipment" he saw in the secret chambers. His fists tightened "They must pay". He could have put it better. Simple yet strong. Enough to get his point across.

Gwharr listening carefully as the man spoke, He nodded after each sentence as to show he had understood. He gave up a sympathetic whimper as the interloper mentioned the children. He nunderstood now. Apparantly there where people here who where alot more cruel than when he was young. It was not that they killed children, at times you had to. At times you did not have enough food to feed them, but you never killed them out of cruelty or malice. The gargantuan sub-neanderthal slowly rose to his full height, initially swaying slightly as his arm left the ground and he was left standing on his legs and nothing more the top of his head nearly hitting the sealing. his eyes slightly narrowed and his lips tensed. "Understand." he said nodding once.

"Strange world to let that happen." he said, shaking his head sadly, sniffling ever-so-slightly. His voice, even though guttural was thick with barely-repressed anger and sorrow. It was apparant that the caveman lacked the ability to repress emotions that most modern people seemed to have.

He had no love for those that harmed the little ones, even when it was nessecary. Those that did it for fun or out of cruelty deserved to be hurt. Hurt viciously. He growled angrily and smashed his left hand into the wall, causing it to visibly crack and small pieces of plaster falling from the ceiling. "Let you do this if I come with." He said, crossing his arms over his chest, as if this was his first, last and only offer.

Red noticed the effect the words had on the the caveman. For a moment he was a bit take a back by the sight of the savage actually expressing emotion. Then the big guy slammed his fist into the wall. Red raised an eyebrow. There was much more to this big man then he thought before. Then the caveman offered to come along. Red wanted to say "no I work alone" but the look in the caveman's eyes showed genuine desire to hurt the ones who were responsible for that horrible deed. Red couldn't help but feel a kinship with the big man. They both wanted the same thing. Finally he decided to take the offer. After all a prehistoric hunter with the tracking skills humans lost a long ago and great strength.

"Alright" he said.

He tapped the mans chest likely with a finger as thick as the wrist of an average woman, grunting the word "Lead" matter-off factly whilst putting the club in a hinged strap he carried on his back, that way it would not interfere too much in his movement untill he needed it. The spikes might have looked dangerous against his back, but the truth was, he could hardly feel them at all. He assumed the man knew where the evildooers where based so they could find them and killed them in a manner they would decide was appropriate at the time

He once again hunched down, using his arms to support him as well as his legs. He preffered to move on all fours when he hunted. It was quicker and less noisy. He did not want the men to know he was comming to get them before it was too late. He did not want to let anyone get away from the retribution that he and the other man was bringing.

. . . The other man. . .

He suddenly realized he had no idea of who the other man was. He was a thinling, he knew that much, but he did not know what his name was, or even what he looked like under that mask of his. "What is you name?" The caveman asked as they trudged through the tunnels.

Red looked at the caveman while the walked. He knew if this was a partnership then trust most be established. He knew that he seemed like an untrustworthy man with his mask on all the time but he had a good reason. But then again he accepted the cave man's offer to help. He sighed. He reached up and undid the straps on the back that held the helmet in place. A hiss could be heard as the pressure was released. He slowly pulled it of and carried it under his arm. He turned to face the caveman.

He had a gaunt but not cadaverous face. It was a face of a man who skipped a meal or two in his life. A strong pointy chin rested beneath a slightly hooked nose. A small portion of his right side was burned horribly. The skin there was a redder tone and clung tighter to the bone beneath. It was especially tight around the eye and mouth. It made his eye, which was totally pale, seem to bulge out of it's socket as if something was pushing it out from the inside. His lip was slightly tighter on that side, showing the teeth inside. It was as if that side was locked in a permanent sneer. His hair was dark yellow and a small patch of it was missing where the burns were. It was unkempt and greasy. Obviously Red didn't have much free time to wash often. A few stray hairs still grew but looked bent and weak. His other eye was reddish brown. Almost like blood. He looked the caveman with his different colored eyes.

"I am the Red Hunter" his voice, no longer distorted by the filter in his mask, was strong voice and determent yet seemed a bit weary with experience and fatigue though he tried his best to hid it.

Gwharr nodded as the man took his strange metal helmet off, revealing a rather disfigured face, apparantly it had been caused by fire. This did not bother him all that much, he had seen plenty worse during his unnaturally long life. Althoug the wound awakened a few old memories that was always lurking in the back of his day and he harkened back to the fatefull day several millenia ago when an icelandic volcano decided to have an erruption in his face. Fire hurts, at least that was something they could agree on. He could definately sympathize with the man.

The gargantuan clenched his fist and put it against his chest, trying to indicate he was talking about himself"Gwharr. Chief in caves-below-world-of-light." he said, seemingly thinking that would do as an introduction of himself.

"Burned bad once. Hurts." He said, nodding slightly, trying his best to keep his voice reasonably low. Sound traveled well in these tunnels and the caveman was well aware of the fact.

"Battlescar?" he grunted, a slightly raised eyebrow the only thing that betrayed his curiosity about the subject. The man was a warrior no doubt, and as far as he was concerned there where not many scarred individuals in the "World-of-light" above them. Most seemed to be disturbingly healthy and blemish-free. Maybe there was a place with more people like this man out there, and maybe he would decide to visit it someday.

Red frowned a bit. He knew it would come to this. He tried to keep himself calm and composed, didn't want to seem weak, but it was stronger. The one thing his will couldn't beat.

"No it's..." his voice broke a bit. Images flashed before his eyes. A burning wreak of car, the flashing lights of police and ambulances, the passing lights of the hospital corridor sealing, the horrible pain and then a funeral. He regained his composure. "...it's my motivation".

He wasn't sure if the caveman would understand what he meant and he did quite care. He said enough and anyone smart would get it. Red felt that it was his turn to ask a question. He could have asked a hundred questions but he settled for the one on top of the heap.

"Tell me, most of you kind have bin.... well.... extinct a very long time ago, how are you still alive? You must about 20.000 years of age".

"To not die. To never die, alive forever. To be alive before thin man-things came, alive after they gone." The caveman grunted, gesticulating wildly, as if trying to express something more, something about how he could still be alive, even though natural law stated that he should be nothing but a fossil. He whimpered and sniffled slighlty as they ran, partly out of frustration brought on due to his inability to express himself properly, and partly out of the painfull memories. Gwharr did not like to think about the world that he had lost. This may be his world physically, but in actuality he felt like it was another world.

The caveman snarled slightly, although it was not the threatening, menacing snarl earlier, it was somewhat more timid and totally bereft of malice.
"To be mighty king in old world before your kind! Grand king of many tribe! Sired many descendants amongst all peoples! Then all turn gray and die. Gwharr tribe die out. Gwharr race end. Dead. To be special. To be undying. Left behind in wrong world. Horrible world." the caveman said, sniffling once more. When he thought about he felt older than he though any man should have to feel, in fact, he had long survived the fall of his own species, and even the fall of his own world. It was impossible to explain how he had survived to this man he had struck a temporary alliance with when he himself was not entirerly sure about it. Maybe he would try to explain again later, but he doubted it "To Hunt now." he said with a certain finality to it. It was obvious that he was not willing to talk about himself anymore.

Red nodded. It was obvious that Gwharr wasn't all that social. For god sake, he was a lumbering caveman in the 21st century. He must be truly out of his element.

Red could say that he felt the same. He was far from his home city with which he was the most familiar with. It was his city and he knew it like the back of his hand. Here in New York he wasn't all that confidant. This city was unknown to him. But he had an obligation and he didn't allow the fact that he wasn't familiar with the city, impair him in anyway. But even so he couldn't say that he knew what it was like to be the last of your kind. He felt a bit bad for Gwharr.

Red looked forward. There was a dim light at the end of the tunnel. He first taught that a train was coming but immediately dismissed it. The tunnels were highly resonant so he could here the train long before he could see it and also, the tunnel abandoned and locked away from the rest of the subway line. This was something entirely different. He remembered the blueprints he "acquired" and knew that there was a larger chamber of some sort at the end of this tunnel. Red turned to Gwharr.

"Get ready. We're close."