The Hunter’s sword glowed in the fading light of the setting sun.

He had waited since the sun began to sink behind the waves of the ocean.

The monster was said to rise every night when the beach went dark. Nearby villagers had been living in fear for the past month, that’s why they had summoned the Hunter.

His help hadn’t come cheap, but as soon as the money had exchanged hands they knew they were safe. No monster could run once a Hunter was on the job.

He had been waiting. Preparing his sword and examining the runes carved into the blade. Each one readied to destroy the fiend, whatever it was. Of course he had theories, but until he saw it with his own eyes he couldn’t be sure.

By now the sun had fully set, and only the light of his small driftwood fire illuminated the beach.

Time seemed to passed slow, but waiting was half the game and he was ready when it came. A bundle of heads, arms and tentacles it came gasping from the sea. Gasping and glibbering onto the wet sand the creature was enough to send most running at its sight, but not the Hunter.

Rising fast from his position he moved in a blink to the creature’s side. While the creature was one which was still unknown to him, a true rarity, he knew it must still be killed. The sword cut deep into the black hide and several of the beat’s expressionless faces.

Black ichor mixed with salt water of the ocean, but the beast seemed unfazed. It’s limbs thrashed out to were the Hunter was beside it trying to wrap him in its deathly embrace. This he had expected and was already in a roll to cut faster through the water to it’s other side, cutting a swath of it’s faces off and extra limbs as he went.

As his blade cut deep some of the runes began to glow. The magic in them had caught what the thing was and the cuts from his sword began to run.

With another angry cry of pain the thing struck out at the Hunter, he was expecting this and dodged but the creature likewise had guessed at the Hunter’s knack for agility and a limb was waiting to catch his ankle.

Pulling him under the water he had little time to react. Salt water filled his lungs as the creature began to wrap itself against his face. Instinct kicked in as he struggled for the dagger he always kept by his side. The creature already had his arms pinned, however, even his sword slipped out of his grasp as he began to thrash around with all his effort to free himself.

Soon the thrashing stopped, the lack of air had reached his brain and the only movements he made were involuntary ones. The creature let out a roar of triumph from its many months that the villagers could hear all across their little town. It would be coming for them.

But all was not over. There was one rune not carved into his sword, a protection spelled carved into his very sinew. It was this rune that now began to glow. Under the dark waters, his eyes opened up in a blue light.

Many had wondered at the Hunters abilities to survive, but when runes that allowed their fresh bodies to become vessels for their ghosts until the body could be restored, there could be no true death.

Like everyone else, the beast expected no such resurrection as the Hunter lifted himself out of the stained water eyes glowing with a pale blue of its spectral inhabitant.

A cry of rage went out from the monster but it was too late. The reclaimed sword bit deep into its flesh, and into its heart. The last of it’s blood joined the shoreline as the mass of it crumpled into the waves.

The reborn hunter simple cleaned his blade and went to tell village the good news.