[color=#A4A4A4][center][img]http://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/b3RmLjE2Ljc4Nzg3OC5RV3RwYnlCVGRXeHNhWFpoYmcsLC4w/maccrap-asphalt-ii-personal-use.bold.png[/img][/center][/color]
[indent][right][img]http://i.imgur.com/sRoqnWM.gif[/img][/right][/indent][@LordOfTheNight][@potatochipgolem][@LazyEgg]
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Noises of thumping feet, rustling bushes and shaking trees resounded throughout the forest. One wouldn't expect a forest like this to have this much activity, especially during the witching hour. After a steady few minutes of the same sounds of commotion replayed themselves, there was the odd shot of a gun- although, entirely different from normal. It sounded as if it sucked the air out of the area and engulfed it in deadly flames. And that was that, the woodland returned to its natural state of deathly still silence.

[url=http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kXK-2d8zYsY/UhYmFUHg_GI/AAAAAAAAEWY/uEseo0In7ro/s1600/Godfrey+Gao+-+Photo+courtesy+of+Jet+Star+Entertainment.jpg]Akio[/url] stood infront of a disgusting monster, now lying on the floor, pure, orange flames slowly eating away at it. The sight of its rotting flesh was an outright disgusting sight and smell to behold. But said flesh was now being consumed by the flames exuding a more intense and revolting stench. The sort of stench that would easily make people vomit their innards and spill tears due to the odor alone. However Akio didn't seem to mind, he was used to the smell by now, and he preferred to watch each and every Wendigo suffer, watching until the last crackle of ember would die and fade.

The creature seemed smug, Akio could see a half smile on its face, despite not having lips. He wrinkled his eyebrows into a scowl, as the creature in its dying last breath mimicked a voice. A voice he had grown too accustomed to because of his years of hunting, the voice of his family.  The voices disturbingly distorted from one voice to the next, from his father, then to his two brothers. But because of its heavy injuries and fading life, the mimicry wasn't perfect- it sounded familiar yet almost... demonic.


"W͔h̦́̾̃ͧy͖̲̻ ̱͈̤̮̽̇̆ͅd̦͖̂͗̋̿̓ͥ̄i̮̲͙̰̟̯ͫ̂ͮͫḏ͇̬ͫ̈́̇ń̟͇̠̄'̖̮͋͂̀̎t̺̟͙͙̗̮̍ͅ ̬̭ͮẙ̙͖̱̣̎͊̋̈́o̭̞͆ͧͮ̈̈́u͖̦̗̭̙̫̥ͬ̿̊̚ ̫͓͑͊̊̅̑̓̊s̮̅̈́͊̚a̩̭̻̖̬̐̽̍̾ͩ̑̾v̥̠̺̣̲͍̗̉͛̇́ẹ̲͍̱ͥ̈̑͊̍ ̩̫̜̻̺̜͆̒̓u̲̱͚͇̽͐̈́̂́̐s̬̜̻͇̔?̜̃ͣͩͨ̋͋͋ [b]Y̳̫̙o̝̻ͅu͈̤͚̱̰ͫͩ͂ ̺̩̜̩̝̹͌͋͋̌ͬ̾m̥̯͛͐͑͐a̙͌ͦ͌d͔͙̠̈̍e̻̫ ̄͒̏o̻̜̫n͙̘̟̣̥̥̓̓ͥ̌̔̍͂e̺̫̰ͪͦ̂̂ ̥s͕̭̞͚e̯̦̻͌̅͛ͬ̄l̙͉͇̾̄̂ͦf͚͇͇͕̯̮͒i̬̥̠̬̝̠̔̋ͅs̝̖̠͎͊̎ḫ̤͇̝̟͋ͅ ̞̯̪̐̈́ͤd̲͓̜̮ͅe̠͉͙̱͕̝̳ͪ̉̿͆̄c͍͍̗̖͑ͪͧ̿̍is͚̿̈ỉ̖͖̰͔̱̫̲̏͆̃͋̐o̜͕̥͙̪ͬͣ̀n̠̳͚̭̣͙ͬ͛̾͆,̟ ̅̈́̓̓͑̃̔ĩ̙̙̜͖t̟͎̚ ̳ͤw͙̐̊́̌̉̚a͎̾ͭ̑̆ŝ̗̝͆̔ͯ̾̐ ͇ͦ̏̎ͮ̊t͓̅̀ͦo̳ͪ̇͛̓ ̬̖͇̮̪r̰̞̊ͪͥͭ͋͋u̱̺̻̤ͨ̽͂̈̾͌n͇͋ͤ͆ ̫͎̌̌ͬ́̊ͤͦa̫̣̿́̋͒w͓̤̗͆ả̭̪̤͔̲̰̝ͨ̔̈ÿ͑.[/b]Y͕̺̜͕̩̟̥̽͛ͨ̾ͩo̘̩̯̘̣̺̟ŭ̬͕͔͖̂̋ͤͩ͌ ̝̃ͨ̌͋̐́ͫa̺̱ͮ̽̍r̎e̫̯̙̪͋̂ͯ̅ ͍a̹͎͊̇̽ͦ ̟̬́̓̓͂̉ͥp̤͇̟̞̀̔͒̔ͫa̺̺͕̺̮͛̊͋͆̚t͙̲̥͓̰̹͐̊̉ͣ̈́̽ͅh͖̝̞ͣͮ̆e̙̪̘̅͒̉͋ṭ̲͙ͫi͎c̍̑ͦ̊̃͂̋ ̻̼ͬͨͨ͌̊͑̀f̻͛̅å̟̠̆i̜͎̟̟ͬͩ͑́̐̓l̻͗ͤ̊u̟̫̫ͮ͒r̳͕͖̮̼͒̆̑͒̿e͚͍̬͕͉͔̎̉̿̓̉ͮ.̲̜̝̺̆ͯͥ"


Another shot of air-choking gunfire rung throughout the forest, cutting the veil of silence momentarily. Wendigoes seem to be able to look into the mind- or rather memories. Allowing them to disgustingly imitate those close to you to lull you to a false sense of security. He knew this too well, however his expression was visibly irked and enraged, partly due to his own failure and the self-guilt and loathing that came with it. The creature would have already died from the pinpoint shot through its heart, but now Akio had shot it through its throat, damaging the vocal cords and muting the dying bastard. With its last few seconds of life, he glanced a half glance towards the hunter as its head began to disappear, seemingly pleased at its final shot before death.

It was dead, almost no trace of it could be found, save for the scratched trees and hoove prints left behind in the ensuing battle. Akio glanced at his trusty companion, his [url=https://i.gyazo.com/77bd665a26b6564171cefd37687ee0ad.png]revolver[/url], on the side it was engraved with some Korean characters;

[i]"Na-ega wonhaneun eotteon nal eul buyeohabnida."[/i]
Roughly translating to 'Grant me which I desire'.

The Revolver was peculiar, it looked new and well-maintained despite its age. It can host up to six shots as a normal revolver could but the bullets it can hold are not the norm. The bullets had two lines on it, that glowed an outlandish orange. It was oddly shaped, having three hooks with equi-distance to each other on the middle, and the head seemed almost [i]too[/i] sharp almost looking boorish in shape. 

He sighed a deep sigh of relief, snapping his gaze from his Revolver to the starry night sky, looking pensively at its beauty and majesty.
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The journey to Vatican city took somewhat long, as it was basically on another continent. However using the resources of the ever-elusive Order, he caught the fastest ferries and trains he could. He didn't sleep though, as each transportation method was back to back, and it seemed like he had to change conveyance at every opportunity. Now getting rather annoyed at the constant shifting, the ferryman assured that this would be the final change. But it would take a few hours to get there, so Akio strapped in, luggage in tow.

He slept, no dream to keep him company, just... emptiness before he was shook awake by one of the attendants. He had arrived, albeit a bit jet-lagged. He still felt sleepy, but it was daytime right now, and the chatter that filled his ears as walked off of the ferry proved it. He rubbed his eyes in dismay, it would take a bit before he could adjust his body clock but he'd endure. He started waking towards the location- his destination. His luggage was taken away by some person hired by the order- atleast Akio hoped.

Many of the buildings were variegated, odd linings and colourings were omni-present in almost all the buildings. Even the architecture was weird, despite having ties with the order, he never needed to go to the main headquarters, but now that he was summoned he reluctantly chose to go. Different and varied incense fought to gain dominance over his sense of smell, but the diverse smells produced a concoction that produced the opposite effect, it made Akio nauseous, He shook his head and continued walking, opting to breathe through his mouth to avoid the intensity of the aromas present all around.

A peckish feeling overtook Akio, his eye spotted a bakery. He approached it, feeling that he can spare a couple of minutes to sate his stomach. The sign was battered and rundown, but it undoubtedly spelled out Bakery, unless Akio's gone blind. With a ding, he entered the store. The sweet fragrance of freshly baked breads was now more intense, and a hearty 'Welcome' was said as he approached the counter. 

Another ding was heard as he left the door, a bag with two pieces of sugary breads poking out held in tow. He finally arrived at the place, the Manor. In all its allure, grandeur and majesty, which was heavily ironic as it drew attention, but the Order was meant to be secret.. He was perfectly content with just viewing and observing the fine achievement of architecture, until a voice called out to him. A voice he knew, and instantly vexed him, a voice that soured his mood. It was the voice of Salvyn, another member he had a not so pleasurable experience with a few years back.

[color=8493ca]"AKIO? S'THAT YOU? Fancy seeing you here. Oh boy, it has really been a stretch of time!"[/color]
[color=8493ca]"I suppose we are rather late - let's head on up before we get ourselves into a mess with the boss."[/color]

He said these words and quickly left his presence, the energetic brunette seemed to remember their unsavory encounter. He irritably massaged his forehead with his open hand due to him dropping his bread due to the surprise, and rather unwanted greetings. Looking down at the bread, now interlocked with mirth, dirt and sand. It was a complete waste. 

[color=#A4A4A4]"Order seems desperate if they want [i]him[/i] present."[/color] Akio grumbled in his lonesome, resuming his gait towards the Manor. After arriving, the irritating Salvyn was present, standing next to two odd men. One too dressed for the occasion, and another man the towered over his own height. He leaned back against the wall, waiting for something to happen whilst the last piece of bread was in his hand.