Page 3 of Run Little Fawn

At the far end of the room, a massive dais looms. Seven hooded figures sit behind a high table of dark wood, their faces obscured by gleaming silver masks. The masks are sleek and borderline featureless, but the candlelight dancing on them makes them come to life.

I know exactly who hides behind one of those masks.

My father sits among them on the leader's right hand side, his presence a suffocating weight in the room. I don't have to see his eyes—sharp steel, just like mine—to know he's watching me.

As I approach the dais, my footsteps muffled by a thick crimson carpet, I feel the weight of centuries pressing down upon me. This chamber has witnessed countless initiations, innumerable sacrifices to the Order's twisted ideology.

And now, it's my turn to stand before them.

To prove my worth in their eyes.

"Lucian," the leader calls out, his voice ringing off the stone walls and echoing through the chamber. "Your training has progressed well, despite the late start. And now, we find ourselves at the very precipice of your initiation. The moment you will finally be able to prove whether you deserve to stand among our ranks. Are you prepared for your Hunt?"

I clench my jaw. These men—this Order—believe themselves to be the elite, the predators meant to prey upon the weak. I see through their delusions, their twisted philosophy of control and domination.

I meet the leader's gaze, my voice steady and cold. "I'm ready."

A murmur of dark approval ripples through the room. My father leans forward, his eyes glinting beneath the crimson hood pooling on his broad shoulders as he scrutinizes me.

He thinks he's molded me into his perfect heir. A ruthless hunter like himself. Little does he know, I've been honing my skills for a different purpose entirely.

The leader nods. "Then let the Hunt begin," he says, his voice laced with a twisted sense of pride. "Your target has been chosen. A young woman who embodies the weakness we seek to purge from this world. The mediocrity of wasted talent and a life spent in meaningless toil. Track her, chase her, and when you catch her… prove your worth as a Hunter."

I bow my head, a show of obedience masking the rage simmering beneath my skin. "As you command," I say bitterly.

Another robed figure glides over, a set of papers in his outstretched hand. I take them with another slight bow, the weight of my target's life now resting in my grasp.

Yet I feel no guilt at the thought of taking an innocent life. It's a means to an end. A necessary step in my path to vengeance.

Turning on my heel, I allow myself to be blindfolded, the fabric cool against my skin. They lead me out of the underground chamber and into a waiting elevator, my steps measured and confident despite the darkness. Eventually, we make it to what I know to be the parking garage, and a gloved hand pushes me into the back of a waiting vehicle. The leather seat of the limousine embraces me as I settle in, the engine purring to life.

As we navigate the unseen roads, I focus on every twist and turn, committing the route to memory. A map etched into my mind with each passing second.

The driver's voice cuts through the silence. "You may remove the blindfold now, Mr. Voss."

I tug the fabric away, blinking as my eyes adjust to the interior of the limousine. I unfold the papers in my hands, any curiosity dimmed by my detachment.

“Aria Moreau.” The name rolls off my tongue. "Let's see who you are, little fawn."

Her file paints a picture of wasted potential, a life of sacrifice and mediocrity in the eyes of the Order. Perfect test scores, full rides to Ivy League universities—Harvard, Princeton, Yale, the blue-blooded trifecta—all cast aside for the sake of caring for her dying father. Now she lives a quiet existence as a librarian in the same small town where she grew up, her brilliance hidden away among dusty shelves and faded pages.

To anyone else, her choices might be seen as noble, a testament to filial love and devotion. But to the Order, to the men who seek to bleed out human weakness, it is an unforgivable sin. Squandered potential, a life unlived, a mind left to wither in the shadows of obscurity. A potential predator willingly turned prey, and thus worthy of death.

It figures my father would pick an innocent woman, and I have no doubt that he is the one who had an undue influence over the selection of my fawn.

He had no interest in me until my brother's death, so until my fifteenth birthday, I led a bleak if relatively normal existence myself.

Until he finally had a use for me.

For the past seven years, it's been a crash course in purging the humanity from my veins. The weakness from my soul.

This is his final test. Proving I have what it takes to overcome those human instincts and transcend. To become something more.

To be a hunter. To kill prey without remorse, as only a predator like him can.

I was expecting this. A woman, first of all. An innocent. Someone who would give the old Lucian Voss pause.

But his efforts at turning me into a monster like him have been more fruitful than he gives himself credit for.

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