Prologue, Part 3

'Ah, but my boy, I know everything.' The stink of the man's breath was more effective than the Schumann at clearing the Hunter's head. He looked into the piercing blue eyes and thought about the bodies downstairs. The painful months of trailing this ruthless bastard across the country, unravelling his infernal deceptions and getting so close, so many times. The Hunter had always been convinced there was more going on here than pure sociopathy, but nobody believed him. 'He's just another killer', they had said, 'just a little bit cleverer than the others, that's all'.

'If I am so wrong, tell me! Maybe I can help you.' He struggled to put the words together. His cheek was swelling fast, but he somehow sensed that Balan wanted to talk, to teach him the error of his ways. The man was so full of his own cleverness. Perhaps that was the way to end this.

'I don't need you, I just wanted to see the look on your face when I bested you.' Balan put on a whispering, mocking voice, 'Let's finish this, it ends now, oh help!' He tugged the earpiece out of his ear and dangled it in front of the Hunter's face.

'How -?!'

'Shut up, child,' Balan hissed. 'There is more to this story than you and your little gang. The intrepid Adventurers, fighting crime without recourse to the Law! You would have realised this a long time ago if you could only stop playing games long enough to see beyond your own pathetic achievements. You and your little whore - '

The Hunter felt himself slipping over the edge. The man's voice became deeper, slowing down as if time itself had paused at the shock of his cold words, which sliced through the pain like knives. He flexed his fingers, welcoming the old familiar feeling that he was outside of reality, watching himself. The entire world seemed to compress, existence itself becoming just these two men, locked together, faces centimetres from each other. The Hunter could barely make out the words now.

'We... are... the same... You... ... ... and ... .. ...I...'

The Hunter held his breath and slammed his forehead into Balan's nose as hard as he could. He tried to ignore the sickening pain in his cheek and instead focused on the loud drawn-out crunch of tearing cartilage. Smiled as he watched the shocked eyes rolling and blood spraying in slow motion back into his face. It would be easy now. He was back in control. He spun the staggering figure around and with his good leg propelling him forwards, leapt onto the man's back. Balan lurched and swore, voice too deep and elongated to make any sense. He was too slow to escape when the Hunter locked his arm around the man's neck.

'She... was... innocent!' He shouted through his tears while the large man drove his elbows slowly into his ribs. At last Time glanced at the struggling figures and realised that one of them was out of place. The darkness lifted and the Hunter clung on through the familiar rush back to normality. The last blow was full speed and a rib cracked, but he pulled his arms tighter, hearing the uncertainty creep into Balan's voice.

'You don't understand... you fool...' Balan slammed himself backwards into the walls, but the young man held tight for this was his last chance, his life really did depend on it.

At last the big man collapsed on the floor. The Hunter fell beside the unconscious body and allowed the sobs to overcome him. Found his knife. Held it high over the murderer, but his shaking hands refused to make the strike. He tried to summon the anger again but everything seemed so wretched now. Always take them alive, the old man had told him, for they know not what they do. The faces of the dead processed before his eyes, so many lives, so much loss. He had had the whole thing sewn up, the future planned.

We are the same, you and I... Now it seemed like he did not know anything at all.

A hand fell upon his shoulder.

'Hello, William.'

A deep rasping voice. A voice he had not heard for twenty years. The Hunter almost choked.

Grabbing the stranger's arm with both hands the Hunter tried to maneuver himself onto his feet. His broken leg collapsed under him but he held on tight, right hand flying up to grip the man's throat. He used the momentum to spin them both round until he had this new opponent pinned to the wall.

The man had had the same reaction. A metal hand gripped the Hunter's throat like a vice and when he stared up into the glowing red mechanical eye, he could clearly see the tiny metal blades around the iris adjusting as it focused on him. What can you see? he thought vaguely as the man smiled, slowly. The pressure on his carotoid artery was tremendous. It would not be long before he passed out.

'YOU!' The Hunter gasped.