Abigail sat at her desk, sorting through bills and other paperwork. She was a highly-skilled nurse, but, due to the recent economic downturn, she was happy to find a job as a consultant with a local tax firm. The work was boring, but it paid her bills. The young woman sighed. Oh how she missed her former coworkers and they conversations they shared. Her desk was in a tiny cubicle, but although she could hear her co-workers, it was still an isolated place, only enough room for her desk, her chair, a laptop and herself. The cubicle wasn't decorated. Abigail never felt the need for it, since she was sure that, one day, she would be back to nursing.

The young woman fidgeted in her chair and looked at the clock hanging at the wall. Almost lunch time. Abigail was looking forward to it every day. She spent lunch most of the times in the little restaurant attached to the entrance floor. Her little banter with George, the friendly waiter at the little restaurant never failed to brighten up her days. He was gone for a week by now, a really needed vacation for the poor hardworking guy, but Abigail really hoped he would be back by now.

Another glance at the clock. She was getting anxious and frustrated at the same time, because she didn't understand why she was feeling so restless. She looked at her computer screen, the numbers almost blurring because of her inability to focus. What the hell was wrong with her? She realized it was a bone chiling dread she felt, like something was going to happen.

Another glance at the wall, another minute gone and Abigail had it. She would go to lunch a bit earlier, since she wasn't able to focus if her life depended on it anyways. It wasn't like she had enough overtime accumulated in the past weeks. It wouldn't hurt to leave a bit earlier and the break might gave her her patience back. A patience she was cherished for, since she could handle the most irritating patients in her ward without once losing her cool.

Abigail sorted the huge stack of papers on her desk meticulously before taking her purse. She debated for a second if she should take her jacket, too, but when she feel the cold shiver running down her spine she decided to go for it it just in case, before walking to the elevators. When she met Jared, her co-worker from the next cubicle, she greeted him with a bright smile.

"Hey, Gael, going for lunch early?" Abigail nodded. "Yeah, somehow my abiltiy to focus took a day off. I need a break, or I won't be able to finish the Miller case". Jared looked at her with a mix of relief and pity that she was the one to sort out the mess the deceased Mr. Miller made out of his assets before he died, leaving his family in cahoots with IRS and basically all authorities who could have a say in it. Abigail needed the better part of the last three weeks to just sort the papers and estimate the money the family would have left after everybody took their share. She already knew it wouldn't be much.

The elevator arrived and Abigail entered it. When the doors closed she felt a strong wave of claustrophobia and almost fainted. The walls of the elevator felt like they would close in on her and she stood stockstill in terror, sweat started to form on her forehead, she felt a primal fear like her life would end soon. the young woman didn't understand what was going on.

Right before she thought she couldn't take it anymore the fear washed away, replaced with a new sense of urgency. She needed to get out of the elevator and to the restaurant. But she couldn't pinpoint why. The elevator dinged and released her back to the world. Abigail was almost comically relieved that the world seems as normal as it was before she entered the elevator. "What the hell is going on with me?" she asked herself almost desperately.

Finally the young woman opened the door to the little restaurant. George, the waiter, grinned at her. "Heya darling. You're early today." he greeted her and Abigail smiled at him, relieved that he was as normal as always. She checked the clock. Almost an hour early? Abigail was confused. "I left fifteen minutes early, how is it one hour early?" George looked at her weirdly. "You alright, dear?" Abigail clucked with her tongue. "No, but I will be after having one of your pricey lunches" she grinned at him. George hesitated a second before returning the grin, looking at her intently. "Alright, woman. What do you want?" he smiled.

"What's on the menu today?" George thought for a bit. "I have a chicken soup made from scratch this morning. It should be perfect by now. And how about a salad? With some garlic breadsticks?" Abigail thought for a second and nodded eagerly. The chicken soup was one of her favorites. "Sounds awesome." George started to prepare the food tray. "How was your vacation?" Abigail asked him. George stopped briefly in his preparations but then looked up and the young woman was taken aback at the pure pain she could see. "George? Are you alright?"

George hesitated for a bit and then answered by almost repeating her words from earlier: "No, but I will be. Sooner or later" he sighed. "That hunting party wasn't the best. I expected to shoot an elk or something like this - but they went for different prey. It would have been nice to serve an elk stew here."

Abigail clucked with her tongue. "Poor George. And now you have to serve measly chicken?" she grinned at him. George shrugged his shoulders. "It's fine. And, hey, my chicken soup is the best." Abigail nodded. "That we both agree upon".

George had his preparations finished and was ready to pass the filled tray to her, when it suddenly happened. The feel of dread she felt earlier came back tenfold, the claustrophobia, all the crude mix of feelings washed over her in a huge tidal wave.

Overwhelmed she felt a headache so bad she thought her skull got crushed. Abigail gasped clamped her hands around her head to ease the pain. It was a white hot searing pain, she knew as a nurse: "annihilation headache" - the pain was so intense she wasn't even able to scream. Slowly she slid down on the floor, holding her head and wishing that she would be dead. Above she could hear George, puking his heart out and the smell was adding to her pain another level.

After a few seconds the pain subsided as fast as it came. The relief was unbearable. She could hear Georges heavy breathing.

And then, the voice started speaking inside her head. It was terrifying but she was beyond caring right now. All she wanted to do was curling up in the corner and wait for better times. But she knew she had to listen what was to be said.

"Humans. We are those you thought we only exist in your nightmares. You would call us "Supernaturals", but we are just different. We are living on this world with the same right like you."

The unpersonal voice was thick with anger and grief.

"For a long time we hid and let you rule this world. And you proved yourself unfit to rule. We have enough. You're strolling through this world without a care, selfish and self-centered, destroying her beyond repair, digging for treasure with a greed never known while poisoning every single corner of it.

This is ending.

NOW."

The voice paused and Abigail felt embarrassed and sad that her race was so selfish.

She didn't realize that the same person who sent the voice in her head also sent her emotions, and that she reacted the way the voice intended. But even if she knew she wouldn't have cared. At least it was true. Humankind was destroying the earth. Climate change, Fracking, fire grubbing of whole jungles, hell, even the top of the mountains were destroyed in order to find coal, leaving the environment poisoned for a long time. All this was a result of a greedy policy.

The voice continued. "This is not to discuss. You, the humans, have six month to leave this continent. We don't care where you go, we don't care how you leave. As long as you are leaving. Your governments just received their orders. And you WILL obey. The alternative is death. Death to all who refuse to go." A brief pause followed. "There is just one exception. There are humans who call themselves "the Hunters". They were for centuries the only one who knew about us. And they killed us. One after another. The hunters are not allowed to live anymore. They will die, no exemptions made. And we will show them the same mercy they showed on us."

Another brief pause.

"So, gather your belongings and leave this country for good. You have six months, not one day longer. Whoever is found in this country without permission after that timespan will be dead come morning."

With that the voice faded away and left Abigail in a total confusion. Supernaturals? She almost convinced herself that the last minutes weren't real when she saw a strikingly beautiful woman standing in front of George, who looked at her in a terror beyond words. His throat was sliced open, blood was spilling out of the wound and he tried to say something before he collapsed. Abigail started to scream hysterically. She backed up from the blood, seeping slowly down the tiles, until her back hit the wall. She curled up in herself, reaching her breaking point.

The woman smiled and approached the almost catatonic woman slowly. Abigail knew that George was hunting regularly but she never questioned why he never brought back any prey. Now she knew and the woman, gliding with a grace towards her she never thought was possible, was clearly not human. Green hair, a deep golden skin, green eyes, perky ears, about 4.5 ft small and very slender, the woman was the epitome of beauty and grace. And danger. Abigail looked directly in her eyes, pleading for mercy.

The woman caressed softly her cheek, soothing her with her warm smile. Abigail wasn't a hunter, she wasn't doomed to death.

Yet.

She felt her mind slipping away into a welcoming darkness under the caresses of the strange woman. When the human woman closed her eyes the other woman left the scenery without looking back. The dagger was forgotten on the floor, it had done it's job.

The green haired woman stepped outside of the restaurant, looking at the panicked crowd before little wings appeared at her back and transported her to the next roof. She watched the humans running around frantically like headless hens, looking for advice anywhere. Windows were smashed by looters who showed up almost immediately.

The scenery became more surreal when right in the middle of the street a man stood still, smiling at the running crowd. He closed his eyes, spreaded his arms and all of a sudden changed into an eagle. With a loud shriek he climbed his way up to the skies. The woman looked after him, smiling broadly. Her task was done.

"And so it has begun" she whispered quietly, only heard by the wind and the spirits.