Forsaken Hunter-Chapter 3: The Shattered Dream

Darkness swallowed Beno Mark whole—an endless, suffocating void that pressed against his chest, stealing his breath.

At first, there was nothing but silence, a black tide drowning him.

Then—a faint flicker, a distant star piercing the abyss. Light bloomed, and suddenly he stood in a golden wheat field, stalks swaying under a warm afternoon sun.

The air carried the rich, earthy scent of harvest, a soft breeze weaving through, lifting the sound of two boys' laughter into the boundless sky.

Beno's heart clenched, a raw ache blooming as his gaze fell on the smaller boy racing toward him.

Messy white hair bounced with each eager step—Renzo, his brother, young and untouched, barely ten.

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His face glowed with innocence, blue eyes sparkling as he clutched a wooden sword like it was his whole world.

"Brother!" Renzo's voice rang out, pure and bursting with joy.

Beno's chest tightened, a bittersweet pang flooding him. Those bright blue eyes shimmered—unchanged from the memories he'd buried deep.

Renzo skidded to a stop, grinning wide. "I love you, brother!" he shouted, words fierce and unshakable.

"You're my hero!"

Warmth surged through Beno, a fragile, aching glow. He crouched, knees sinking into the soft earth, and ruffled Renzo's hair with a tenderness he'd forgotten he could feel.

"You can count on me... my dear brother," he said, a smile breaking free—real, unguarded, alive.

But the second those words spilled out, the sky twisted.

The golden wheat withered to lifeless gray, curling like ash under an unseen blaze. The sun bled into a blood-red moon, its eerie light slashing jagged shadows across the desolate field.

The air turned cold, thick with dread that clawed at his spine.

The scene shifted.

Beno's breath snagged as Renzo appeared again—older now, towering on a dark battlefield, mist curling around him, the air heavy with blood and ruin.

His aura crackled, a violent storm barely leashed. Across from him stood Luna, her golden hair wild and tangled, blue eyes blazing with defiance.

Her sword gleamed, raised and ready.

"Renzo! Stop—you'll hurt her!" Beno's shout ripped from his throat, desperate, but it echoed into nothing, swallowed by the howling wind.

The ground quaked as their blades clashed—sparks exploded, metal screaming in a brutal symphony.

Beno's fists clenched, nails biting into his palms, powerless as the fight spiraled beyond him.

Then—the world lurched. A cold grip seized his throat, iron-tight, choking off his air.

His feet dangled, body jerking as he gasped. Renzo loomed over him, lifting him like he weighed nothing, his once-warm eyes now icy pits of hate.

His fingers tightened, merciless.

"I hate you," Renzo snarled, voice a venomous hiss. "You weak, pathetic trash."

Beno's vision blurred, chest burning as he clawed at Renzo's arm—useless, weak.

"Why...?" he rasped, voice breaking. "Why do you hate me so much... my brother?"

Renzo's lips twisted into a cruel smirk, eyes glinting with malice. SNAP. Everything shattered.

Beno jolted awake, drenched in sweat, chest heaving as he sucked in air.

His wild eyes darted around the dark hospital room, shadows twisting under the faint glow of machines.

The steady beep of the heart monitor cut through the silence, anchoring him. "Where... am I?" His voice scraped out, hoarse and raw.

The walls loomed—sterile, cold, unfamiliar. The clock glowed—12:43 AM, a midnight shroud.

He dragged a trembling hand through his damp hair, the dream clinging like a second skin.

"Just... a dream," he whispered, but the words rang hollow. Why did it feel so real?

He glanced aside—the chair beside him sat empty. No Luna. No doctors. Alone.

The silence crushed him, amplifying the ache in his chest.

Gritting his teeth, he swung his legs over the bed, ignoring the sharp protests of his body. Bare feet hit the icy floor with a thud, and he staggered toward the hall, each step a war against his own frailty.

He needed air. Needed to move.

Near the waiting room, a blue glow flickered across the walls. The TV buzzed, casting eerie light over empty chairs. A news anchor's voice sliced the stillness.

"Day six since the disaster at Gate 07. The death toll climbs... 177 hunters missing."

Beno's blood turned to ice. His steps faltered as faces flashed onscreen—names, ranks, lives lost.

Hunter 176 – Jason Keller, B-rank, Steel Fang Guild.

Hunter 177 – Elise Mare, A-rank, Shadow Fang Guild.

The anchor's tone sank, heavy. "Among them... S-Rankers Sophia of Rose Guild and George of Moonlight—gone without a trace."

Beno's breath shuddered. Sophia? George? Titans—unbreakable. If they fell... his stomach twisted.

"And lastly..." The anchor paused, voice grave.

The floor dropped out from under him.

"Our most powerful S-Rank... Renzo Mark, lost in a Violent Gate."

Beno's world shattered. His breath caught, a cold wave crashing over him.

His knees buckled, vision warping as he whispered, "What...?"

It couldn't be. Renzo—his invincible brother, his idol, his nightmare—gone? "No... that's... impossible."

A mistake. A lie. His heart slammed against his ribs as he turned to Luna, who'd just stepped in with a doctor. Her face—relief melted into devastation, blue eyes wide with horror as she saw the screen.

Beno pointed, hand shaking, voice cracking. "This... it's a prank, right?" he begged, desperation raw. "Just a nightmare... tell me it's not real!"

Luna's lips trembled, tears welling. She couldn't speak. The silence roared, shredding his hope.

Beno's breaths came fast, ragged. His legs gave out, and he hit the floor, hands clawing at his chest. "This isn't real," he gasped, voice breaking. "It's not..."

His fists slammed into his arm, his face—each hit a frantic plea. "I just need to wake up!" he choked, tears burning. "Then I'll see him—Renzo, smiling on TV, alive... my brother..."

Sobs tore from him, a flood of grief as he crumpled. Luna dropped beside him, pulling him close, her arms a lifeline.

"It's okay..." she murmured, voice trembling. "You don't have to be strong... not now."

Beno broke in her embrace, cries echoing through the sterile void—raw, haunting. Doctors lingered at the door, faces shadowed with unease. They'd seen loss, but this was a fracture, a wound too deep to heal.

That night, he clung to Luna, praying to escape—but the truth held firm, unrelenting.

The afternoon sun stretched long shadows across the city skyline, its warmth a stranger to Beno. He sat by the hospital window, staring blankly, skin pale, cheeks hollow. His once-sharp eyes were dull, framed by dark circles—a shell of torment.

Luna stood beside him, heart twisting. "Beno... eat something," she pleaded, voice soft but urgent. "I'll find him—I promise."

His gaze shifted, cold and empty.

"You don't have to, Luna," he said, voice flat, stripped bare. "This is my fight."

She flinched, breath catching. "How?" Her tone sharpened, worry bleeding through. "You're not even a hunter!"

His fists clenched, knuckles whitening. "I don't care." His voice hardened, edged with fire.

"No matter what... I'll find him. With my own strength."

Luna froze, stunned. Grief fueled him—rage, loss, a blade forged in pain. But in his eyes burned a resolve, unyielding and fierce. He meant it—every damn word.

Beno lay still, exhaustion a crushing weight. His breaths rasped, face pale, shadows under his eyes a testament to his breaking soul.

Luna sat beside him, gaze locked on his fragile form. Her fingers trembled as she reached out, hesitating, then gently ran them through his hair—a tender anchor.

Her throat tightened. He looked like he did back then—alone, hurting, fighting to hold on.

"You're just like me now..." she whispered, voice cracking, "...back when they called me Witch."

The classroom buzzed—laughter and chatter a distant hum around Luna.

She gripped her worn notebook, head low, golden hair curtaining her face. Whispers cut through, sharp and cruel.

"She's here again."

"Demon girl."

"Why even bother showing up?"

She shrank, wishing she could vanish.

Awakened too young, she was a pariah—cursed, a freak. She sat alone, ate alone, unseen even by the teacher, as if her existence was a plague.

By the window, three kids snickered. "Bet she talks to ghosts at night."

"Heard she cursed someone last week."

Her fists clenched under the desk, nails biting skin. Then—a shadow. She looked up into bright eyes—Beno Mark.

He stood tall, hands on hips, radiating defiance. "No way!" His voice boomed, silencing the room. "She's no witch—she's an angel!"

The kids gaped. Beno grinned, leaning in. "You're too damn cute to be a demon."

Luna blinked, stunned. No one had ever... seen her. He laughed, loud and free. "Seriously, look at her! She's a hero straight out of a story—golden hair, magic vibes, the works!"

Her chest cracked open—warmth, hope, flooding in. For the first time, she wasn't alone. Beno became her anchor, her first light.

Dawn crept into the hospital room, golden streaks painting the cold floor. Machines hummed, antiseptic sharp in the air. Luna stirred, stiff from a night hunched over—then saw the bed.

Empty.

Her breath snagged. Sheets crumpled, IV dangling with blood droplets, gown folded neatly. A chill gripped her spine.

"Beno?" Her whisper trembled.

She bolted up, heart racing, eyes sweeping the room. Gone. Panic surged—she sprinted to the hall, grabbing a nurse. "Did you see him? Room 306—he's gone!"

The nurse paled, shaking her head. "No... he wasn't stable. He shouldn't be moving!"

Luna's chest tightened. He could barely stand—where could he go? She raced outside, doors slamming open, cold air biting her face.

The streets stirred faintly, but no Beno.

Her fists clenched. He'd left—for Renzo. A deep ache swelled in her.

"You idiot..." she whispered, eyes burning.

As the city woke, one truth consumed her—she had to find him, before he broke beyond saving.

[To Be Continued...]