Science fiction
Andromeda Spaceways Magazine issue 70
A Summer of SciFi and Fantasy, volume 2
You were seven when you received your first weapon.
“It’s a dagger, mate, not a knife,” your uncle George said as you unwrapped the package above the bloody corpse of a gorgon in a dusty small-town street.
You swung the blade, stabbing it in the summer air. You made swooshing noises as your family smiled.
“He’s got it. See?” said Granny Claire.
Beaming, you turned to your dad. Bunyip Bill they called him. Even you called him that. He was a huge bear of a man, all gristle and grit. Stronger than his namesake, people said.
“A dagger’s not a toy,” Bill told you.
You turned the blade, fascinated by the way the light shone on the steel.
“We use these old blades because we’re warriors,” he said. A cigarette danced on his lips.
What happens to monster hunters and demon chasers when they grow old? What becomes of destiny after a lifetime? How do regrets and thoughts of different paths impact us at the end?
Many of my stories fit to a specific song. This was loosely inspired by the Johnny Cash cover of Nine Inch Nails' Hurt - an infamous and accomplished artist at the very end of his long and impactful life. The gritty velvet of his voice made me imagine a rough-as-nails old monster hunter. And then - more specifically, I began to think of the monster hunter's son. What if it was a kind of family business? What if the son followed in his father's footsteps, even if it wasn't the path he desired? What would he think of how the world had changed around him, and what did he think of the cryptids he spent his life hunting and killing?
This story was critiqued by Eugene Bacon in her book, Writing Speculative Fiction:Creative and Critical Approaches.
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