Jericho slowly got up, his body ached with the slightest of movement. Looking around, slowly, he started to recognize his surroundings. He was no longer in the cold alley, soaking his hoodie in his own blood. Now he was in a bed, surrounded with warm blankets and wounds, stitched and bandaged. The bedroom looked familiar,shelves stacked with books and collectibles from different shows, cartoons. An empty heated glass tank, decorated so that it would resemble an open savannah resided on a drawer near a large window.

Most notable of all, a recliner in the corner of the room, where a guy, no older than Jericho himself, slept. He was dressed in a clean button up and black vest with khakis. His tanned skin seemed to glow against the morning sun, highlighting his very apparent freckles and raven black hair, but as he looked closer, he saw his hands were coated with dry blood and his black vest had smears of it along his chest as if he tried to rub it off his hands. Black crescents rested under his eyes from late nights and early mornings.

Looking down at his blood stained bandages, he couldn’t help but feel guilty. He despised leaving Marcus to clean up his messes. He hoped, that this hunt was going to be different. That he was going to come home with proof. He hoped he didn’t have to get Marcus involved like the last times, but he couldn’t follow through.

Slowly, Jericho got up, and gently covered Marcus in the blankets. Careful to not wake him.

Making his way towards the bathroom he noticed a spotted serval cat sitting perfectly still in front of the door. “Hey, Cleo.” The cat growled angrily in response. “Yea, yea, love you too ya hairball, where’s your better half?” Cleo gave no response to his question, and he new better than to prod the cat with more questions.

Entering the bathroom he leaned against the sink and saw his reflection. He looked pretty good for being man handled by a wendigo. His dark brown hair was a mess, coated in black dirt and dust from the alley, which wasn’t anything new, but there were a couple of new scars on his shoulders. He clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth as he inspected his body. His fair skin was covered scars from different hunts, some from monsters, others from those who could be called such. He can name them all, though the biggest would have to be from a gargoyle who had nearly gutted him in Melbourne which left three long scars across his stomach. Slowly unwrapping the bandage, Jericho inspected the stitched up wound.

“It’s gonna scar you know.”

Jericho flinched, upsetting the new stitches. He turned slowly to see an annoyed Marcus with Cleo walking walking between his legs, softly purring. “Snitch.” Jericho whispered under his breath.

~~~~~~

“You could have died.”

“But I didn’t.” Jericho replied almost cheerfully.

“I told you to wait.”

“But I didn’t…”

Marcus left the room and stomped into the living area where two small couches resided beside each other, making a square in front of the television. He walked behind both and stared at the far wall, with Cleo not far behind. “I said I would help you with this one JJ. I told you to wait because I knew what we were up against, and you did too. You could have died this time.”

“I thought I could take it… I did take it…” Jericho admitted, “I just didn’t want you to get hurt.”

“You know what I am JJ. I could take care of myself.”

“You said it yourself Marcus! Wendigos isn’t like the stuff we dealt with before. They’re not like unicorns or phoenixes or even gargoyles, they are ruthless hunters! I was trying to protect you. Besides I already took care of it. The wendigo is dead, and a pile of ash, he thought bitterly.

“One! You got one!”

Jericho stopped in his tracks, stunned by what he said. “There’s more!? I thought they were solitary hunters. They don’t seem like the type to share meals.”

“Yes there’s more. You can’t find everything on these things on websites and old books. Wendigos are like wolves. They have a pack, you just killed their scout, and wendigos are more vindictive than they are hungry.”

Jericho could hardly breathe, “So your telling me that, I just pissed off a pack of bloodthirsty killers who, are actually, intelligent hunters.” He slumped on the couch in front of the Television, his sense of despair engulfed the pain from the fall. “Damn. If I was going to die I would have hoped it would have been a dragon or something.”

~~~~~

Looking up at the ceiling Jericho felt something small and scaley crawl up his arm and plop on his chest. He looked down to see a golden frilled lizard. “Hey Yoshi. You are walking on a corpse FYI.” He grumbled as he gently patted the lizard’s head. Unlike Cleo, Yoshi actually liked him.

“You are not going to die, you are totally screwed but I’m not gonna let you die.” Marcus sat on the floor, crossed legged with Cleo in his lap. He leaned his head back onto the couch, tickling Jericho’s side with his hair. “We’ll figure something out JJ. Don’t worry.” His anger died down and was replaced with a calm yet frightened worry.

“I’m so sorry Marcus. I should’ve listened to you.” Jericho finally admitted.

“I know…” Marcus sighed. “Did you at least get the video? You can at least post it or something.”

“It doesn’t matter, they’ll say it’s a fake, or it was made like the other ones.” Jericho appreciated Marcus trying to cheer him up but all it did was make him feel worse. If he was to die now he would only be known for an eccentric nut who was talented in cgi.

Getting up, Marcus sighed and rubbed his eyes, “Alright, get up and dressed, you have some clothes in my room that I brought from your place.”

Getting up slowly, cradling Yoshi close to his chest he looked down at Marcus. Even though Marcus was technically older Jericho, Marcus was shorter than him by a couple inches, just enough to have to look up at him. “Wait, what are we doing?”

“Getting help.” Marcus replied quietly. He left into his room and Jericho heard him rummage through his closet. A minute later he handed Jericho a large box. “Wear that over your clothes. And be careful with the blades.”

Jericho opened the box then glanced at the contents, “Dude. Have you been holding out on me?”

“I was planning on giving them to you when we met last night.” Marcus snapped.

“Ok, ok, still mad. I get it. But if these are enchanted like I think they are… can I-“

“If people study them they’ll just think it’s normal cloth and blades, trust me. I don’t know how it works, just does.” Marcus answered instantly.

Jericho was a little disappointed in hearing that but it didn’t keep him down, by Marcus giving him this, it meant something big was going to happen. “Where to Marcus?”

“The old railyaed warehouse. Outside the city.” Marcus’s violet eyes pierced through Jericho. He never saw Marcus like this before, but then again, we never were in this type of situation.

“All right, I’ll call a cab.