The old wooden door broke in and the million pieces flew in in every direction before the body of the thrown man passed through the frame and crashed into the old furniture.

No! Get up! Run! He's still after you!

The man stumbled as he rushed to stand up and run farther away from his predator. He continued to look behind him as he ran further into the abandoned building, bumping into all the obstacles in his way.

Huff! Huff! You're dead! DEAD! Don't stop running, he'll catch up with-

The man turned and ran face first into the sweaty chest of the man who had been chasing him. The other guy seemed like he could be young, but the way his face contorted in his anger, made him look like he was a beast of beasts, who wouldn't settle for anything less than blood.

The prey laughed scared at the predator, and slowly backed away, then ran back in the opposite direction. He didn't conquer five steps before he was pulled back by his collar and thrown hard on to the floor.

"What do you want from me! Who are you?!"

"Christian Sanders."

That's who I want to do my final research on. But none of my professors have clearance for his file!" The girl pouted and slumped as she and her friends made their way to across the campus.

"Then leave it alone. Maybe it was a police case. Maybe he was a psychotic murderer who killed his whole family."

"No! I read his summary report. He was a really good looking guy, but now he has serious memory issues. He was well financed too."

"Ok, so what are you going to do about it, Sadie?"

"That's what I'm doing right now. I'm going to walk into the department director's office and demand that he give me the file for my final research."

The three girls walked into the director's office and spontaneously started to argue with the old man why Sadie had to have him for her paper, and the professor profusely declined each request. Eventually Sadie gave in, slumping her posture in defeat.

"Can you at least tell me his story?" Sadie whined to the professor.

"Was he a psychotic killer?" the same friend who had suggested it earlier now asked the professor.

"No, no!" The old professor replied. "He was nothing like that. Ok, I'll tell you. His name, was Christian Sanders, he was the..."

The hunter stood over the dead body of his victim with a puzzled look on his face. He quickly tilted his head side to side and dragged a hand over his buzz cut head, his fingers skimming past the thin long impression going down to the back of his head. The way his eyes frantically ran over the man lying in front of him was proof that he didn't remember what had just happened. A phone buzzed in his back pocket and he took it out, reading the title of the alarm: Find Him. He took a picture of the body lying in front of him, then put the phone back as he knelt down by the bloody dead body, jerking it and pressing his own ear to the man's chest, confirming that he was indeed dead. His gaze went over to the dead man's hand, which tightly held onto something. He pried the cold hand open and took out the old discardable cell phone. He checked the contacts for any information on the man. Going into his recents, he found only one name repeated in the outgoing list, the one name that made his features crunch even more in anger and hatred, and he thrashed his body around, as if the name had brought back all the memories of the years he had forgotten in one instant. As if he was angry, yet mourning at the same time. He took out the little pen and pad in his back pocket and copied the phone number onto the book, writing so furiously that the pen ripped into a couple pages into the pad; each page had only one named scribbled across.

Victor Steele.