Sean awoke to a searing pain in his right arm. It was like it was on fire. He threw the covers off his body and sat up. The pain would not stop. He panicked, wondering what happened or if it was a bite. Rolling up his sleeve, a rune symbol completely took him aback as it appeared on his arm. He fell off his bed just as the pain continued. Light formed a rune symbol with strange angular lines, The Mark of the Hunted.

"No!" He thought to himself. His baby blue eyes watched the symbol like it was going to jump out at him. The world he lived in involved a yearly draw. No one really knew how it happened or how the marks appeared, but whoever had it were marked for certain death. The government often handpicked those who were spared for a year to become hunters. It provided a way for them to dispose of most humanity. Symbols often varied between the hunters and the hunted, although Sean never thought about what the hunters had. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes, trying to keep from breaking down. Sean lived with his brother, Malcolm, a tall man with a long graying beard and glasses. As he sat there ready to end it all, he heard his brother's footsteps coming up and entering his room. He glanced up and saw the worried expression on his brother.

"Sean," Malcolm said the minute he saw the symbol. "I'm so sorry."

"There's got to be some way to survive!" Sean exclaimed, grabbing onto his brother's arm practically tugging it like a child asking to be picked up. "I don't want to die." Malcolm and Sean stared at each other for a few minutes. Sean believed it must have been because Malcolm was contemplating the options that could help him.

"There might be a way for you to survive and fight back." Malcolm responded.

"What is it?" Sean's eyes sparkled excitedly.

"If you don't want to die, come with me." Malcolm helped Sean stand and the two brothers walked out of his room, heading toward the garage. They walked through the hallway with pictures from when Sean was a small boy and he couldn't help but wonder if Malcolm had been hiding something. They arrived at the garage door. Sean watched as his brother opened it and they stepped inside. At first, Sean grew confused, that is, until his brother pressed a square behind an old picture frame. A door slid open, revealing a whole other room. Weapons lined the walls, from guns to swords. Even daggers were lying on either a counter or hanging on a hook. Three black backpacks sat on shelves nearest to the ropes.

"What the hell?" Sean said in shock. "What is this place?!" Malcolm smiled and turned back to his brother.

"This is a secret room. I had this built to protect us from those hunters." Malcolm explained. Even though Sean was excited, it still didn't change him not seeing where Malcolm was going with this. Malcolm placed a reassuring hand on his younger brother, Sean glanced up slightly. Pulling his hand away, Malcolm walked over to a backpack and pulled it off the hook. A table sat in the middle of the room. There, his brother placed the bag on it before sliding it toward his brother. Sean slowly approached it with caution and grabbed the zippers. He unzipped the bag and saw survival items. A sleeping bag, hunting knife, rope, a manual for survival, even a few other things like matches and a water bottle.

"But you never taught me how to survive," Sean said. "How long till they come for me?"

"I would estimate around an hour, maybe more or less, depending on who's hunting," Malcolm explained. "And who they're hunting. Point is, I should have enough time to help you learn," he continued. "If you allow me to teach you." Despite Sean's hesitation, he was ready to try anything. The young man agreed to it, giving Malcolm the chance to help Sean learn. 

***

Among the hunters is one Mark Fischbach, a twenty-six-year-old who had been selected by the government to destroy those who were chosen, completely agreeing with the government. Even though Mark had a strong demeanor, he had also been strong-willed and driven, all the qualities needed for a hunter. On his chest embedded his tattoo, the mark of a hunter. It had a ring of fire surrounding the small trident pointed toward his chest. He first got it when he was only seventeen, but for the tattoos it varied.

Mark's brown hair blew in the wind amid his chase with his newest victim. A young woman with blonde hair and brown eyes. She was also in her mid-teens. The woman had been faster than all the other victims combined, except she was never really a challenge. Mark set traps throughout the forest and waited until the young woman stumbled across one. He hid behind a large tree until he saw her stop in the clearing. He pressed a button on his glasses and called his boss as soon as he saw her in his sights.

"Mark Fischbach here, I've got eyes on the target," he said. "Shall I proceed?"

"This is Adam," Mark responded. "Nice going, Fischbach, you may proceed."

"Copy that!" Mark exclaimed. The girl stepped into the trap just as Mark pressed a button on his glasses. A rope wrapped around her ankle and pulled her up. He stepped out from behind the tree and approached her, a knife in his right hand. "Hope you enjoyed the last of your life, girl." The woman begged for her life, only making Mark laugh. He stabbed her through the chest without a second thought. Blood trickled down his hands. Pulling out his tablet, he opened notes to where he marked another tally. He cut the woman down and dug a large firepit before tossing the body into it and lighting it up. Even though this hunt was successful, Mark wanted something that was more of a challenge.