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Kaden's Space The Hunt

Hello. I am you ''MAJORDOMO''. Yes, yours. I'm talking to you. This little game is called ''"THE HUNT"'', and it has been organized by me. If you wish to play, follow me. If you don't, you will forget what little you have seen thus far. Or else. [[Follow->Prologue]]/[[Forget->Google]]

In this story you will be tasked to do some quite unsavory things. If you don't have the stomach for doing what needs done, feel free to [[get lost->Google]]. For those of you left. Welcome. I'm not going to bullshit you. This isn't for the faint of heart. What you do, who you are in this tale, is something no words can do justice. I will ask you to do potentially upsetting and immoral things, and you may wish to stop. However, I must implore you not to. Once you choose this life, there is no going back. So think quite carefully before proceeding. If you're still with me. Take five deep breaths. Shit's about to go down. You ready? Alright. [[Let's do this thing.->Characters]]

"Google.com" [[Wait hold on, never mind I want to play.->Smug]]

Well then. I thought you might come around. But beware, you have not exactly impressed me with you're obvious indecision. [[Play->Prologue]]

You are a bounty hunter in this game. Yes, you read right, a bounty hunter. And you'll be the most badass scumbag that ever walked the Earth. But keep in mind that you must feel it to be true in order to make it so. There is no room for self doubt on the road to the bounty. First, you must choose you're character. Beware though, once you have your name, I am no longer talking to the you you are now, I am talking to the bounty hunter you. Clear? Good. [[Chadwell C. Chadwick->Chad]] [[James Bond->Bond]] [[Alex "The Silver Puma" Steel->The Silver Puma]] [[Choose your own name->Choose your own name]]

Really. Really? Chad? You want to be a bounty hunter named Chad? Can we just stop for a second? This game requires imagination. So I want you to sit with me for a second and think. A bounty hunter walks into a bar and everyone goes quiet. Men, women, and children watch, quaking in their collective boats. What do you think is going on there? That they're all thinking, "Oh no, look out, it's //Chad//!" No. Just... no. Congrats, I'm giving you [[The Silver Puma->Introduction]]. Consider yourself lucky. "Oh look out, or //Chad// will hunt you down!" I mean really. Come on. Not a great start.

Wow. Alright Captain Cardboard. I give you a list of interesting names and you go with James Bond? Like, the most uninventive, TRADEMARKED, name possible. Good god, I couldn't use this name even if I wanted to. Sorry to burst your vanilla bubble, but you'll be playing as [[The Silver Puma->Introduction]]. You're welcome. I'm saving you from yourself. Have some fun, be imaginative for god's sake. I mean James Bond isn't even a bounty hunter! Oh whatever, just get out of here and move on.

Well done. You have excellent taste. I'll be real with you. If you had picked any other name I would have judged you hard core. But you showed yourself to be well worth my time. We're good. You may [[proceed->Introduction]].

Ooooohhhh. Ok. What? My names aren't good enough for you? Is that it? Well well, fancy pants. If you're so much better at coming up with names than me, your gracious host, then why don't you go make your own Twine! No? Sound like too much work? Yeah, I thought so. Appreciate what you've got. Here, play as [[The Silver Puma->Introduction]], and consider yourself lucky I let you play as the most badass person on the list instead of sticking you with Chad.

You're taking a sip of your water when the door opens. She walks in. She knew where to find you. Everyone knows where to find you. You've seen her [[before->Neighborhood]]. You recognize the look on her face the moment she enters the bar. She's looking for something to get done. And you're just the person folks look for when that's the case. You watch her until she notices you. She looks nervous for a second but walks over. You're eyes peirce her to the bone behind your silver rimmed shades. As she reaches your table she looks like she might sit down. But appears to think better of it. [[Smart->Sitting Down]]. "Are you The Silver Puma", she asks, voice cautious. You stare at her from behind russet lenses. She knows the answer. She nods slightly and gets to the point. "My boyfriend. I need you to handle him for me." She looks around furtively. That's all she needs to say. You wonder if she knows that. You grimace on the inside. This isn't the first time a partner has shown up at your booth, looking for you to handle their business for them. You understand these things can be messy, but sometimes you wish they'd just do it themselves. But hey, they always pay well. Folks will pay good money for you to handle these matters. You stare at her. She blinks and seems to remember herself. Clearing her throat she pulls an envelope out of her back pocket and tosses it onto the table. "It should all be there." You take it up in your hand and open it. All the cash necessary is there. She looks expectantly at you. What do you [[do->To Accept or Decline a Bounty]]? [[Accept the bounty->I accept]] [[Decline the bounty->I decline]]

Alex Steel Birth Date: Unknown Death Date: TBD Gender: Various Birth Place: Unknown Badassery Level: Over 9,000 [[Proceed->Introduction]]

Old Oak's Dive and Bar is a community hub. Everyone in the neighborhood comes here. It's mostly empty during the day though, like right now. But once work gets off, the place floods. Everyone knows to stay away from your corner. Only those with an invitation come into you presence. Unless they've got a job for you. [[Proceed->Introduction]]

You're mother was a witch. You might be too. I don't know. You've never told me. But you've definately said you're mom was a witch before. It's not relevant, but I'm just saying. Doesn't hurt to remind you. [[Proceed->Introduction]]

Small Louis knows his stuff. He knows every face that enters his joint, every liqour he's got to pour, and every fool who's no longer welcome. Why is he called "Small"? Cause his brother Big Louis ain't around no more, if you get what I mean. Yeah their parents named them both Louis, what of it? I didn't even mention their third brother, Smaller Louis. [[Proceed->Introduction]]

Everyone knows what you did to the last person to sit down without asking. That was five years ago. No one's been foolish enough to try it since. [[Proceed->Chapter 1]]

You nod slowly. She looks [[excited->Excitement]]. You [[lean forward expectantly->Chapter 2]]/[[lean back expectantly->Chapter 2]].

You shake your head and push the envelope back across the table. She looks at it, eyes widening. "But", she stammers, "But why not? You have to, please. There's no one as good as you. Is that not enough? I can pay you more if that's the problem." What do you do? [[Require more money->More money]] [[Change your mind and accept->Chapter 2]] [[Insist on declining->The End Failure 1]]

You take the envelope back up. You slowly open the flap and hold it out to her. Will she understand? She does. Nodding with vigor she digs her wallet out of her pocket and fishes out extra cash, shoving it into the open envelope. She watches you examine the new bills. You look back up at her and nod. You [[lean back expectantly->Chapter 2]]/[[lean forward expectantly->Chapter 2]].

"Thank you", she says, looking releaved. You stare at her. "Oh right. Um. His name is Dean. I know he's out with his friends tonight. He always is." She looks at the table. Despite your impeccable ability to read faces, her's is illusive. "Tonight they're going to [[In Front Steak Shack->Steakhouse]] and then [[Duh Qlub->Duh Qlub]]. I don't know when they'll be there though. Do you know where those are?" You nod. Does she think this is your first day on the job? You grew up in these streets. You look at the door. She's given you all you need from her in person. She looks at you for a moment before understanding. She stands and walks toward the door, but turns before leaving. "Thank you, again. Really. It's such a big help. You have no idea how hard it's been keeping him..." She trails off as you look away. What? Does she think you haven't heard all this [[before->Before 1]]? You stash the cash in your pocket. Dean. This shit is gonna be a piece of cake. Poor bastard isn't gonna know what hit him. But he deserves it, you're sure. Guys like this always deserve it. You know the name. You've seen the punk [[around->Small City]]. You decide to hit up [[In Front Steak Shack->Steakhouse 1]]/[[Duh Qlub->Duh Qlub 1]] first.

The End. [[Credits->Credits]]

A chain restaurant. Known for their wilting cabbages. You don't eat there. You see no point in places like that and no one needs to see you eating anyway. [[Proceed->Chapter 2]]

A local night club. Rowdy, hip, sheek. All things you despise. You have no time for shit like that. Well, accept maybe getting rowdy. You can think of a few good times for that. [[Proceed->Chapter 2]]

You stand and walk toward the door. Small Louis catches your eye. "I'll be ready when you've finished it up", he gives you a serious look. He doesn't need to say it. You know it, he knows it. But [[Small Louis->Small Louis 1]] always lets you know when you get a job that he'll be ready when things go down. You appreciate that. [[You leave the Bar.->Steakhouse 2]]

You stand and walk toward the door. Small Louis catches your eye. "I'll be ready when you've finished it up", he gives you a serious look. He doesn't need to say it. You know it, he knows it. But [[Small Louis->Small Louis]] always lets you know when you get a job that he'll be ready when things go down. You appreciate that. [[You leave the Bar.->Duh Qlub 2]]

Small Louis knows his shit[[.->Duh Qlub 1]]

Small Louis knows his shit[[.->Steakhouse 1]]

Your name is [[Alex Steel->Alex Steel]]. But everyone calls you ''THE SILVER PUMA''. You're the most badass piece of crap to ever grace the world with your existence. And you're a bounty hunter. Everyone knows who you are, and everyone is afraid you. Except one... But we'll leave that story for another day. Me? I'm the majordomo. To bounty hunters that means something specific: a mission coordinator. But to you, I am an old friend. I used to give you your bounties back when you worked with the ''Collective of Bounty Hunters''. Remember those days? Good times my friend. Good times indeed. We got into some trouble back then though, eh? Anyway, enough. As you always said to me, reminiscing is for chumps. Today you're sitting in your spot. [[The Bar->The Bar]]. It's not you're favorite spot. You don't have one of those. You have to like things in order to have a favorite, and the only thing you like is the sweet smell of bounty at the [[witching hour->Witches]]. So there you are sitting. Sipping on a little water. That's right, water. You don't do alcohol. You like to keep it sharp at all times. Part of being the top dog is never giving the pups the chance to lead the pack. Today is quiet. [[The Bartender->The Bartender]], leaves you alone as you sit in the back. He knows to let you be. You're waiting. For what? You don't know. Knowing the next hunt isn't part of your job. Knowing the current hunt is your only duty. But you don't have one of those. You need a [[Target->Chapter 1]].

It's evening. The sun is going down. It would be your favorite time of day if you had favorites. The setting sun is almost as beautiful as hunting bounties. Soon it'll be dark. You're timetable is limited. You've gotta get moving. You make your way to your [[ride->Your Ride]]. As you start up the engine you glance down at the gas gauge. You furrow your brow at finding a picture tucked into the casing around it. It's young man, good looking, smiling like an idiot. You dig it out with your nails and flip it over. In red sharpie you find the word "Dean". Damn, she really does know what she's doing. The faintest grin creeps onto your lips, but you're too badass for that so you slit the smile's throat and toss it in the midnight river of your soul. You know the face. You've seen it before of course. But this photo will be useful for other purposes. You figure it's probably a good idea to check to see if your equipment is in the metal compartment on the side of your sick ride. But then again...good ideas are for the weak. You [[check your compartment like a square->Compartment]]/[[let the dealer of life give you a blind hand, like a champ->On the Roads Duh Qlub]].

It's evening. The sun is going down. It would be your favorite time of day if you had favorites. The setting sun is almost as beautiful as hunting bounties. Soon it'll be dark. You're timetable is limited. You've gotta get moving. You make your way to your [[ride->Your Ride 1]]. As you start up the engine you glance down at the gas gauge. You furrow your brow at finding a picture tucked into the casing around it. It's young man, good looking, smiling like an idiot. You dig it out with your nails and flip it over. In red sharpie you find the word "Dean". Damn, she really does know what she's doing. The faintest grin creeps onto your lips, but you're too badass for that so you slit the smile's throat and toss it in the midnight river of your soul. You know the face. You've seen it before of course. But this photo will be useful for other purposes. You figure it's probably a good idea to check to see if your equipment is in the metal compartment on the side of your sick ride. But then again...good ideas are for the weak. You [[check your compartment like a square->Compartment 1]]/[[let the dealer of life give you a blind hand, like a champ->On the Roads Steakhouse]].

You leave your jet black motorcycle outside with the keys in the ignition wherever you go: the bar, your apartment, [[The Den->The Den]], you name it. Is it illegal? Do I look like like a lawyer? How should I know? All I know is no one has what it takes to screw with you. [[Proceed->Duh Qlub 2]]

You open the top of the comparment on the side of your motorcyle. All your things are in there. Zip-ties, body-sized bag, baton, everything you need. You close the top with a bang. You're [[pissed you flinched and looked for nothing->Pissed]]/ [[relieved that you checked just to make sure->Really?]].

You ride, sunglasses glinting. You know your way. Traffic isn't a problem, but if it was you know people would part like the red sea for you. No one crosses you. Ten minutes later you're at Duh Qlub. You step up off your ride and check the compartment. All your gear is there. You would smile at how right you were for not checking, but you don't smile. You enter [[Duh Qlub->Duh Qlub 3]].

The Den: the United Nations of the Bounty Hunting world. Location: If you know, you know. [[Proceed->Your Ride]]

You can't believed you flinched like that! What would [[Buck-Tooth Barry->Buck-Tooth Barry]] think of you if he were still around? Unbelievable. You glare ahead. [[Let's ride!->On the Road to Duh Qlub]]

You do know you're supposed to be a cool bounty hunter right? This is a "you don't care 'bout nothin', live life on the edge type of deal". Remember that. I'm just saying. Alright, [[let's get back to it->On the Road to Duh Qlub]]

Buck-Tooth Barry is the one you trained you in the fine arts of Hunting Bounty, and gave you the sweet pair of glasses you wear every day. Why is he called that? He chipped a tooth when he was kid. Once he was in the business some poor punk called him that. No one ever forgot what Barry did to that kid. But afterward he kept the name, to remind everyone what would happen if they crossed him. You once told him it didn't make sense cause now everyone insulted him whenever they talked to him. He just glared at you. [[Proceed->Pissed]]

You ride off, head forward, sunglasses shading your stony eyes. You know your way. Traffic isn't a problem, but if it was you know people would part like the red sea for you. No one crosses you. Ten minutes later you're at Duh Qlub. You step up off your ride. You enter [[Duh Qlub->Duh Qlub 3]].

You step past dancing [[twenty-somethings->Twenty Somethings]]. The music is loud, the base is thumping like the Michelin Man's heart when he spots a rust nail. These kids are in their element. Or drunk. An uneven mixture of both you assume. They look at you with anxiety. Even the intoxicated ones. They know what's up. Like they should. You move through the main hall. The world is [[indigo->Dreams of Indigo]] now. The light pours from the ceiling and walls. It's dark all the same. But there's a reason they call you "The Silver Puma". Of course you haven't taken off your sunglasses. You're no amateur. No one needs to see your [[eyes->The Eyes of a Bounty Hunter]]. You find the main dance floor. The indigo lights are flashing and streaking in here. The music is more intense. On the dance floor, at the foot of the DJ's stage is a gaggle of writhing bodies, gyrating and jumping to the music. It disgusts you. But you flourish in chaos. You spot him instantly. He's near the edge of the crowd, dancing with some people. You step forward, but you see him, at that moment, despite all the noise and dimness, spot you too. For a serene moment you stare at each other. You both know what this means. His eyes are wide and worried. [[How->How]] does he know it's him I'm here for you wonder. But there's no time. In the blink of an eye Dean pushes through the crowd and runs toward a doorway marked as a stair case, shoving people aside. You [[make chase, like a proper bounty hunter->Duh Qlub 4]]/[[realize you don't care and give up->Give Up]].

You leave your jet black motorcycle outside with the keys in the ignition wherever you go: the bar, your apartment, [[The Den->The Den 1]], you name it. Is it illegal? Do I look like like a lawyer? How should I know? All I know is no one has what it takes to screw with you. [[Proceed->Steakhouse 2]]

You open the top of the comparment on the side of your motorcyle. All your things are in there. Zip-ties, body-sized bag, baton, everything you need. You close the top with a bang. You're [[pissed you flinched and looked for nothing->Pissed 1]]/ [[relieved that you checked just to make sure->Really? 1]].

You ride off, sunglasses glinting. You know your way. Traffic is awful, so you ride up on the sidewalk. People part like the Red Sea. No cops are called. Everyone knows what's up. Eight minutes later you're at In Front Steak Shack. You step up off your ride and check the compartment. All your gear is there. You would smile at how right you were for not checking, but you don't smile. You enter [[In Front Steak Shack->Steakhouse 3]].

The Den: the United Nations of the Bounty Hunting world. Location: If you know, you know. [[Proceed->Your Ride 1]]

Inside is lit up like you might expect a chain restaurant to be lit. There are people at every table. You stand at the front, surveying the entire restaurant. The steward comes to the desk as you study the photo of your target. "Table for-", the boy cuts himself off as he recognizes you. Without looking at him you hold the photo up to him and continue to survey the faces at the tables. "Uh...I haven't seen him", the steward stammers. That means he knows not just who you are, but WHO you ARE. Good. "I'll ask my manager." The kid gestures to another employee. She walks up, looking you top to bottom. You watch her approach. She's not as [[meek->Meek]] as the boy. You hold the photo out to her without a word. She shakes her head. "He's not here." You fold the photo into your pocket and consider your options. You scowl, [[turn and leave->Steakhouse 4]]/[[and search the room yourself->Search the Steakhouse]].

You can't believed you flinched like that! What would [[Buck-Tooth Barry->Buck-Tooth Barry 1]] think of you if he were still around? Unbelievable. You glare ahead. [[Let's ride!->On the Road to the Steakhouse]]

You ride off, head forward, eyes shaded by sunglasses. You know your way. Traffic is awful, so you ride up on the sidewalk. People part like the Red Sea. No cops are called. Everyone knows what's up. Eight minutes later you're at In Front Steak Shack. You step up off your ride. You enter [[In Front Steak Shack->Steakhouse 3]].

There are two types of people in this world: those that are meek around you, and champions. You can tell this manager is of the latter variety. You make a mental note to return to this place for sustenance some time. Even if it means people seeing you eat. Servers under the command of one such as her must be notable indeed. [[Proceed->Steakhouse 3]]

You hop back on your sick ride. There's only one other place a young man could be on a night like this. You ride off like a badass again. Like every time. You know your way. Traffic isn't a problem this time, but if it was you know people would part like the red sea for you again. No one crosses you. The sun is down, but there is still sapphire in the sky between the buildings. If you had emotions they would be all over the place at the sight. Five minutes later you've arrived. You step up off you ride. You enter [[Duh Qlub->Duh Qlub 3]].

You move past the staff. Neither protest. Smart. You make your way methodically through the room. Your training as a hunter has prepared you for situations like these. Afterall, this is just another Tuesday for you. All patrons are tense and quiet as you move past them, some delusionally [["brave"->"Brave"]] souls dare to look at you. Finding nothing in the main room you move into the kitchen, figuring your target may have seen you coming and run. A good move if true. At once all the kitchen staff silence and freeze. You put a solitary finger to your lips. They stay frozen as you wind past the stations and watch the faces of the inhabitants. Nothing. You exit the kitchen. Everyone is still quiet. You sweep the all-gender bathrooms. Nothing. [[You leave->Steakhouse 4]], scowling.

Sometimes the universe just tells you. [[Proceed->Duh Qlub 3]]

You make [[chase->To Chase]]. You run with all you might. You are a cheetah, a leopard, a lion, and panther all wrapped into the silvery skin of the [[puma->The Name]]. You are well behind, gliding and weaving past faceless fools too drunk or elated to register the blur that you are. But you will not be trailing for long. Dean bursts through the door to a stairwell ahead. It is so loud you can hear it over the thumping beats. Of course you can. Your ears have been tuned to the finest. A second later you slide soundlessly through the same doors and sweep up the staircase after him. You can hear his desparate pants just a mere handful of flights above. You don't look, you know everything you need to by the sound of his breath and the faint smell of liqour he leaves in his wake. How lucky for him. If only more were so intoxicated on the day you came for them. It would make everything easier. You fly up the stairs, eyes forward, [[mind->The Mind]] on your target. You hear him burst through another door just above you, and before the metal portal is all the way shut you are pushing it open [[again->The Target]].

You watch the bastard run into the indigo twilight. For moment you thought to make chase. But no. You suddenly realized you just don't care. But do you really want to give up after all your effort? [[Yeah, that's why I clicked on this option->Bye-bye]]/[[Actually, you know what, fuck no let's get this little prick->Duh Qlub 4]]

You see twenty-somethings all the time. Foolish, unaware, always in the way. You avoid them as much as possible. But sometimes the hunt brings them into your presence. How unfortunate. [[Proceed->Duh Qlub 3]]

(color:purple)[You're dreams have been indigo of late. Perhaps they were a premonition.] [[Proceed->Duh Qlub 3]]

This is a small neighborhood. You've seen everyone around. You'll need a photo though. You always need a photo. If the girl is smart she'll leave one for you where everyone knows you'll find it. [[Proceed->Chapter 2]]

You've seen everyone in around the neighborhood before. [[Proceed->Chapter 1]]

Excitement is always an interesting emotion to see. It takes a certain kind of person to be excited about hiring you. Or a specific kind of target... [[Proceed->I accept]]

//"The eyes of a bounty hunter are portals to each and every bounty the hunter has taken. Those are the hunter's prizes. They belong to no one else. And so no one should be allowed to look into the hunter's eyes to see them."// -Code of the Hunters (Codex 2, Section 3, Paragraph 9) Words to live by. [[Proceed->Duh Qlub 3]]

//"A bounty hunter must accept or decline a bounty upon offer. No waiting time is permitted. To keep an offer on the table is unprofessional and uncool."// -Code of the Hunters (Codex 1, Section 5, Paragraph 1) No one knows the rules of the bounty hunters but the hunters themselves. This girl before you does not know you must answer her now, but you must nonetheless. It is the code. [[Proceed->Chapter 1]]

It's always the same thing. "Thank you." "It's been hard lately." "I'm always afraid he'll find out." After all these years you've heard it enough. You don't need any more thanks. The only gift you need is the sweetness of the next bounty. Now you have it, so she can leave. [[Proceed->Chapter 2]]

Alright quiter. Game's over I guess. I mean you got so far. But I guess it was for nothing. Bye then. [[Credits->Credits]]

//"To lose prey is to lose life. When making chase a hunter must never lose either."// -Code of the Hunter (Codex 5, Section 1, Paragraph 3) Words to run by. [[Proceed->Duh Qlub 4]]

//"The name of the bounty hunter is a sacred art. It must be crafted and earned all at once. It must be recognized and recognizable. It must strike knowledge into the souls of all who hear it. The knowledge that if the name should ever be linked to their's, their day has come."// -Code of the Hunters (Codex 1, Section 2, Paragraph 1) They call you the Silver Puma. You have earned that name a thousand times hitherto, and you will earn it thousand more. This bastard's day has come. You will escort him to it. That is the task of the hunter. That is what you were hired to do. [[And so it will be done.->Duh Qlub 4]]

//"The bounty hunter must never lose focus when making chase. To do so would be to forfeit all the hunter has worked for. It is the most fatal, and easiest fault."// -Code of the Hunter (Codex 3, Section 1, Paragraph 4) [[Focus.->Duh Qlub 4]]

You charge out onto the roof of Duh Qlub, twenty stories up. He is there. He is standing on the edge, yards away, staring down at the street below. The street lights illuminate his pitiful face as his worried eyes consider his options. You can see the thoughts in his pupils even from here. The drunk are always loud [[thinkers->Loud Thinkers]]. He turns as you approach. You stop steps away and stare at him through your dark lenses. You would laugh at the look on his face if you could express [[amusement->Expression]]. He looks at you and knows, as you do, that he has two options. He can fight, or he can accept. Or, to put it more accurately, he can lose, or he can lose. Part of you wants to see this pathetic boy try. But another part of you is sick of this. You haven't even broken a sweat, but still. You could try to appeal to him, talking him into coming quietly. But that's what a [[chump->Chumps]] would do. Or you could just see what he does. After the briefest of considerations you decide to [[talk to him->Talk To Him]]/[[see what he does->Ride Or Die]].

You know this as only the eternally sober can. [[Proceed->The Target]]

Amateurs express in front of others. You are no amateur. [[Proceed->The Target]]

Are you a chump? You wanna talk to him? This ain't about being macho or anything like that. It's this simple: mystery is scary. Few people in the world know the sound of your voice. It's why they look at you the way that they do, it's why no one knows what you'll do next even though they know to watch out, it's why you are such a force. Will you sacrifice all that? Just to talk a kid out of something stupid he might not do anyway? You're choice. But know the [[consequences->The Target]].

You open you mouth to talk to him. The [[second time->The First Time]] you've ever tried such a thing. But before a noise can even come from your throat the fool charges at you, yelling. His fists are in the air. His eyes are glazed over with drunk rage. You grit your teeth. And to think you were about to act like a chump and talk to this idiot. Fine. You do what needs to be done. [[Proceed.->On the Way Back]]

You stare at him and he charges at you. The little fool. So he wants the easy way does he? Easy for you. Fine. You do what needs to be done. [[Proceed->On the Way Back]]

You sit atop your ride. Its engine rumbles. You watch the night streets pass from behind your shades. The target is yours. You have him in the breathable sack, arms zip-tied behind his back, mouth duck-taped shut. He stopped wriggling a few minutes after you left Duh Qlub, succumbing to what he knows must be [[coming->Taking Care of a Target]]. You attached the boy on the ridge of the seat behind you, securing him with bungee cords. People stop and stare, expressions of shock, horror, wonder, and confusion on their plebian faces. Classic. You pull up to the bar. The engine of your ride spits out a few more puffs. Small Louis said he'd have everything ready. He'd better. You look around as you undo the cords. You can feel the boy starting to breath faster and fidget. You ignore him. The lights to the bar are off, like they should be for something like this. No one is around on the street. Perfect. You undo the last cords and lift the sack onto your shoulder. You half expect him to start writhing and twisting or trying to get away. But he doesn't. Smart boy. He knows it's over. His day has come at last. You picture the face of the woman who hired you. This sack's girlfriend. She was so happy to hire you to do this. She was so excited for you to do this to him. You've never felt any desire to do things like this someone in your life. But maybe that's because their is no one in your life to do this to. But that's by design of course. [[Time to do what has to be done.->Do It]]

You asked me once never to speak of the first time you tried speaking to a target. Do you remember why? You told me that that was the one time, ever, you didn't bring back the bounty. That was the night your target was... No, nevermind. You told me to never speak their name again, and I will not. I'll leave it at that[[.->Talk To Him]]

//"When taking care of a target a bounty hunter must always take satisfaction. A hunter lives for the bounty but thrives on the fun of dealing with the target once captured. Revel in it."// -Code of the Hunters (Codex 5, Section 3, Paragraph 1) [[Taking care of a target->On the Way Back]] is always the most fun of a hunt.

You pass through the door. Like you thought. Not a light on in the place. The only illumination is coming from the street lamps sending yellow dimness in through the windows. You drop the boy onto the hardwood, in a yellow shaft of light. You don't bother calling out to Small Louis. He'll come. He always does. Instead you wrip the sack off of Dean. He looks up at you. His frightened eyes try to find your's behind your shades. [[You tower over him.->Never Give]] He wriggles and writhes on top of his bound hands. He makes muffled noise through the duck tape. For a moment you wonder what's taking Small Louis so long. The lights turn on. There he is. "SURPRISE!!!" All at once Dean's family and friends jump out from behind chairs, tables and doors, smiles and laughter everywhere. The poor bastard looks around wildly at your feet. You watch him through your lenses, squirming around to look at everyone. His muffled voice gets louder in shock. You lean down and rip the tape off his face. It's low adhesive grade, naturally. No pain. The woman who hired you comes up as you cut the zipties from around his wrists. "Happy Birthday!" She places a little cone hat on him. He gives her a wild look and then understands. [[About damn time.->It May Take Time]] "Thanks", the boy stammers, "I think." He looks back up at you as he stands. You stare at him through your russet shades. Not a word. In moments Dean is surrounded by his family, friends, and some of the twenty-somethings you spotted with him at [[Duh Qlub->She Knew What She Was Doing]]. Small Louis is approaching. You knew he was good for it. He always is. He had the whole place ready to go. Streamers, open bar, music, baloons, the works. Small Louis's an expert at this stuff. He nods to you. You nod to him. Fist bump. As the celebrations begin you make your way back to your booth. No one is celebrating back there. Everyone knows it's your spot. Some of the guests look at you with anxiety. Good. That's all part of the job. You sink down into your booth. Small Louis will be over with your [[post hunt drink->Post Hunt]] at always. Sprite with lime and a little crushed salt around the rim to loosen up. He's good for it. You watch the festivities from your spot, through your shades. Small Louis places your drink in front of you. You nod and sip. Sweet and smooth. If you had favorites, this would be your favorite drink. The girlfriend walks up. Some of the others watch her nervously. She is no longer timid around you. You don't know how to feel about that. But you've found some respect for her upon inspection of her coordination. "Thank you again", she beams. "You really got him." She laughs. For moment you consider whether or not to respond. After a moment you [[raise your glass and nod slowly->Raise Your Glass]]/[[lean back silently->Lean Back]].

Wow. The girlfriend really did know what she was doing. All those friends with him in the night club were in on it. That isn't always the case on jobs like these. You've had some trip ups with unaware friends before. But she really put it all together nicely. Respect. [[Proceed->Do It]]

//"It is the right, nay the duty, of a bounty hunter to celebrate a successful hunt. This celebration can take many forms. But the most appropriate, the most respectable, is the libation. Take one down in honor of your target and the good work you have done."// -Code of the Hunter (Codex 5, Section 12, Paragraph 1) And so it shall be done. [[Proceed->Do It]]

//"Before the moment of termination of your hunt, never reveal your hand to your target. You never know what they might see in the cards. A job is not finished until it's finished. Give them no indication of what is in store for them."// -Code of the Hunter (Codex 2, Section 2, Paragraph 3) As it always should be and will be done. [[Proceed->Do It]]

//"It may take some time before your target understands what has happened to them. Give them the space they need to accept what has been done. They will be afraid, they will be anxious. Allow them to process such feelings."// -Code of the Hunter (Codex 5, Section 1, Paragraph 3) This part of the hunt is always the most difficult for you. Some targets never get over what's been done. They can't even enjoy the party. But Dean seems like he won't go down like that. Respect. [[Proceed->Do It]]

You raise your glass to her and nod slowly. She smiles and nods back. You drown the little feeling of warmth that rises in your chest. No time for that shit. As she returns to the party you spot Dean looking at you nervously. You raise your glass to him as well. He returns the gesture with his own drink. [[Proceed->The End]]

You lean back without a word. She knows what you've done and has shared her thanks. She can leave now. There's no point in thanking you for doing your job. This is the end of your hunt and she should leave you to yourself now. Though you do still harbour some respect for her. She nods. "Thank you", she repeats. As she turns and gets back to the party you spot Dean looking nervously at you. You look away. It's his day after all. No point in stressing him out. [[Proceed->The End]]

As the party continues you alternate between watching the fun and thinking to yourself. This is your neighborhood. Everyone here knows who you are, even if they don't "know" you. Everyone knows where to find you, no one fucks with you, and everyone calls you for special days like this. Yes people are afraid of your methods. No one truly knows what they are after all. Or what's in your head. But that's just the way you like it. This is your place. These are your people. You are a bounty hunter. You watch the party sing "happy birthday" from behind your glasses, and let slip a grin, shielded by the sipping of your sprite and lime. They call you The Silver Puma, and this is what you do. [[Credits->Credits]]

Written by W. Kaden Gicker Story by W. Kaden Gicker Inspired by "Temple of No" Created Using Twine Thank you for playing! I hope you enjoyed!

You've seen fools like them before. They fancy themselves all awesome for looking at you. It's all just to satisfy their ego. They wouldn't raise hand or a voice against you when it got down to it. You know this. They know this. You know they know this. And deep down, they know you know this. [[Proceed->Search the Steakhouse]]