Christmas What-The-Land

Hosrius Camnus "The Dark Angel"

Job Log ###

The little girl hadn’t returned after Hosrius’ shot had torn her to ethereal shreds but that just happened to unsettle him even more. What kind of creature could look into his mind and replay his memories with such clear clarity? Worse yet, why had she looked translucent, as if she was there but not really? His mind quickly returned to the information packet he had gotten about Earthland, trying to recall details about the enemies he could possibly face during his hunt. There had been something about see-through creatures but he couldn’t quite recall. His scanner hadn’t even picked up on her until it was too late, which was all the more concerning.

But something did alert him, an approaching entity from his rear. He spun around in his spot, dropping to a knee as he aimed down his scope. There, out in the distance, was a woman striding upon a large mammal. It was large, bulky, with fur all of its body and horns springing from its head. But it looked rotten away, its face nothing more than a skeleton. How could that possibly be? If any part of it was decayed, it should be dead and yet it lived, breathing out large tufts of air from between its bony teeth. All of a sudden it dawned on him, as he stared at the now approaching woman through the scope of his sniper rifle. The entity he had read about -- ghosts. Supposedly they were the leftover spirit of creatures that lived on Earthland, having passed into death but returned.

That was impossible. Once something was dead, it was gone. Unless that had something to do with the magic of this world? Deciding to weigh the philosophical questions later, he took careful aim and let out a shot from his gun, the sound of it shooting out reverberating in the air. The plasma bolt soared over the land and struck the reindeer in its shoulder, burning away its flesh and fur. But still it charged and the woman on top brought forth a bow made of ice, arming herself with similarly crafted arrows. She aimed and fired back at him, the thin piece of frost quickly coming upon the Jirian. He rolled out of the way, the icicle just barely missing him. As he came up, he once more got in a sniper’s stance and this time aimed for the woman as she was rearming. Two shots were sprung at the same time, as Hosrius brought up his arm and activated his gauntlet. A blue energy shield sprung into full shape before him, the icicle embedded itself in the heart of the plasma but going no further. Meanwhile, his shot had burst through the woman’s forehead, vaporizing her face and reducing her to glittering ash.

Hosrius gave a hard shake to his shield, removing the ice arrow buried in it. But before he could relax, a shifting of the air behind him alerted him to another enemy. He just barely managed to get himself turned around and his shield up as a hooded figure, far more terrifying than the previous two, snapped its hand out for him. It slammed against the shield and knocked him backwards, the alien bounty hunter rolling over his back. He came up, his sniper rifle folding back into a pistol as he let out several shots from the hand cannon. The plasma blasts ripped through the linen of the hood, creating wide, sizzling holes in the creature as it was knocked back. It fell to the ground and disappeared as well.

But there, standing in the path leading to the city, was an old man. He wore a wicked frown, embedded in his face from years of disgust and displeasure. He bore a tall top hat and a cane, which his wrinkled hands rested on. “You are not from this planet,” he stated to Hosrius simply.

“I knew my presence was uncomfortable to some people but most have enough manners not to attack me on sight,” Hosrius said as he flushed the plasma build up in his pistol, having used up all of its shots. It would take several seconds before he could fire again.

“I care not for your presence or your being. I have come here for the sole purpose of destroying Christmas and you have attacked my darlings. You will not succeed in defeating them again.” With that ominous message, the old man tapped his cane on the ground. From the spot where it impacted, a rush of blue fog rolled out. The three spirits returned, materializing out of the smog and setting their chilly gaze upon Hosrius. The bounty hunter sneered softly as he glanced at his pistol, still several seconds away from being ready.

The old man started to chuckle as he waved his spirits towards their enemy. They surged in from all sides, ready to attack the alien from every angle. But before they could touch him, another loud blast of fire broke through the treacherous laughter. The old man froze, his eyes wide and in pain, before he fell flat on his face, the entirety of his back smoking and riddled with plasma holes. The three spirits screeched as they melted into the ground, their master defeated and their existence wiped away.

Hosrius glanced past the body on the ground to see another imposing figure, his flechette gun still smoking as he stepped forward and planted a single massive foot on top of the old man. “Well look who found himself on this backwater globe of trash. How’s it goin' there, Hos?”