I sat up from behind the ferns and rubbed the grime off my face. I'd been tracking my target for several days now and still he was relentless, moving almost nonstop, running faster than me despite the heavy BFG 50 slung around his neck and several Deagle 44s tucked into the pockets of his cargo pants. He was currently crouched behind the crumbled ruins of an old building, reloading his sniper with his back against a wall, peppered with bullet holes. The floor around him was littered with empty shells. I crouched above him on the edge of a hill, trying not to make a sound as I crawled forward. I heard a sharp buzzing noise, and something sped past my ear, missing me by millimeters. I picked up the bullet, which lay right by my leg, and I threw it off the cliff edge so that it bounced off the sniper's helmet, making a resonant sound. He frowned and turned around, spotting me. He cursed and aimed, and I flattened myself to the ground just as gunshots fired in front of me.

I got up and ran to the edge, throwing myself off and landing on the sniper, straddling him while I used my free hand to pull one of his pistols from his pockets. "Stop struggling, or I shoot," I warned. In reply to that, he wriggled even more violently, even managing to pull out a knife and stab me in the thigh. I roared in pain and fired blindly, no longer caring if I took him back dead or alive. When the pain faded to a dull throb and my vision cleared, I saw most of my shots had missed, but two had connected, one in his forearm, one in his calf. He was doubled over in pain, bleeding where the arteries had been severed. He hissed at me, switched his knife to his good hand and lunged again. I guess I shouldn't have underestimated him, he was a skilled soldier after all, and the Queen would have had a good reason for me to capture him. 

I pulled my own weapon out from a hidden compartment concealed in my boot, a Swiss army knife with a camouflage casing. I blocked his strike with my arm, using the thick leather arm guard wrapped around my left forearm to avoid taking damage. He snarled at me, his face twisted in desperation and rage. Gunshots fired around us, so we ducked under cover and continued fighting. He swiped at me with his spiked steel knuckles, but I kicked him in the chest before he could do any damage, forcing him back into the open, and he ducked as several more bullet whizzed over his head. I sprang into the air, leaping towards him, and he braced himself, expecting a body slam, but I kicked out and used him as a launch pad to get on to the second floor of the ruins. He spat at me, and I glared right back, dropping behind a toppled column as the enemy team fired again. He leaped, his hands gripping the ledge, and pulled himself up, grunting from the effort. I rushed forward to strike, but he dropped back down, pushing off the wall on the other side, which crumbled under his weight, and landed neatly in front of me, blocking the strike and firing at me with on of his guns. I ducked my head and propelled myself into his midsection,  launching him into the wall behind him, which promptly collapsed on top of him, and he disappeared under a pile of  rubble, dust billowing everywhere. I coughed and fanned my hand in front of my face, my eyes watering as I pulled my bandanna over my mouth. 

When the dust cleared, I started clearing away the rubble, trying to find him. When he'd been sufficiently uncovered, I pulled him out, purposefully leaving his legs trapped underneath so that even if he was alive, he'd have a hard time fighting back if he was maimed and injured. He groaned in pain with each pull, and when his legs had been gashed and scraped up enough, I removed the last few blocks of debris and slung his arm over my shoulder, supporting most of his weight and began to walk off. The snipers on the opposing side fired again, reminding me of their existence, so I propped him against the wall, picked up his BFG 50, took aim and fired. Job done. How could he, a master marksman, seasoned warrior and experienced, skilled sniper have possibly lost against me, not only in close combat but in a sniping contest too. Pathetic. I nudged him with my foot, and when nothing much happened except for his head rolling to rest on his chest, I started dragging him behind me again, heading back for the Queen's castle. 

******

When he finally woke up, the first thing he said was; "Uhhhh, mom why did you wake me so early?"

I was so started by this that I jumped to my feet and threw my dagger, which thudded into the ground right by his head. He woke up properly, turning his head to stare at the dagger with crossed eyes, and screamed. He tried to get up and back away, but I'd severely damaged his legs, so the best he managed was an awkward shuffle. I stared at him with an expressionless face.

"You better not move, I just wasted several bandages making sure your wounds stop bleeding so your pathetic life isn't lost,"I spat coldly.

"Well if you hadn't attacked me, you wouldn't have had to!" He retorted smugly.

"Huh, funny, I was going to take you back to the Queen peacefully. I'm pretty sure you shot me first. Too bad the Queen wanted you alive, I could've carved out your guts for the crows for what you did," I turned back to the fire, pretending to ignore him, though I was watching him out of the corner of my eye as he pulled the knife out of the ground. He struck, but I grabbed his wrist and forced him back. I twisted his arm around, turning the knife toward his own chest.

I laughed scornfully. "I wouldn't try anything funny if I were you. The Queen ordered you back alive, but not unharmed." He glared at me and I laughed again. "You are feisty however, so that's one thing to your advantage." He tilted his head as if confused. "See, I lead this growing band of hunters and skilled fighters. We're the vampire Hunters. We kill the vampires roaming about this world, slaughter them like the animals they are. If you join me, the Queen will have no reason for me to bring you in, so you'd be a free man, well, to a certain extent."

"Well..." he scratched his head as if he couldn't quite decide.

"Let's start at the beginning then, shall we. I'm Caroline," I propped my head up with one hand, thoroughly bored.

"Robin," He said without looking up.

"Well Robin, if you value your life, I suggest you join me. The Queen isn't likely to tell you off and set you free. After all, you did try to blow up her favourite castle. Huh. I liked that castle too, actually," I smiled, almost to myself. "Well, make up your mind soon, you're going to meet the other members soon!"

"Other members?" he asked, mystified.

"Well of course! You can't be a band of fighters with no one but yourself yes?" On that note, I left him to dwell on the thought, knowing he would give in eventually, for the look in his eyes clearly meant he'd do anything to survive.