fandomhigh | Hunting 101 - Class 4 (Tuesday period 5)

When the students entered the Danger Shop, they found themselves standing on the side of a deserted highway at night time.

John was leaning against the same black car from the last time. "Welcome to Lone Pine Highway. The one mile stretch beginning just past that curve has had an inordinate amount of disappearances, going back decades. There have also been stories, told by people who've travelled this highway, about seeing a dark sinister figure on a black horse. Some of the stories go so far as to talk about the figure galloping after them brandishing a sword. Digging deeper into the area's local folklore, you would find a tale of a highwayman hung on a tree somewhere along this road back in Colonial times. His bones are said to be buried among the roots of the tree.

"Your assignment is to lay this ghost to rest without getting yourselves killed or injured." He looked around at the gathered students seriously. "Unlike the last ghost you faced, this one is very aggressive and dangerous and will attack you on sight. Keep that in mind and act accordingly.

"Also unlike last time, I'm allowing you to decide how to group yourselves in going after this ghost. You can pair up with whom you will, or even go in groups of three or four, or if you're feeling particularly brave -- or foolhardy -- you can attempt this alone. Although," John smiled slightly, "I wouldn't reccomend the latter.

"You'll find a large assortment of weapons and equipment in the trunk of this car; when you have chosen your group, choose what you think you'll need to defend yourselves and get the job done."

John leaned back against the hood of the car with a grin. "If there are no questions, you may begin when ready."

[OOC: ~~wait for~~ the OCDs are up]

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"Ah, I get that," kind of. "Where you from?" As Johnny spoke quietly, he was also keeping a wary eye out.

"Brooklyn by way of France." Annja also spoke in quiet tones.

He raised his brows. "There's a Brooklyn in France?"

Annja let out a breath. "It's a very... odd story."

"Alright," he said, affably. Johnny wasn't one to push for info unless the willingness to share was there.

Annja was glad of this because she wasn't sure how her story would go over. "How about you?"

"New York," he answered, staring off into the night, searching. "Born and raised."

"New York's the best." She double checked her shotgun again.

"You've been there?" he asked.

She smiled. "I have a loft in Brooklyn."

Johnny was confused. Brooklyn by way of France. He had no idea what that meant.

"Ah. What grade are you in?"

College graduate.

"I'm a Junior this year."

From somewhere down the road through the fog, the sound of hoofbeats reverberated thorugh the night.

Johnny stilled. "Did you hear that?"

Yes, she had indeed heard that. She nodded at Johnny as she listened.

Out of the fog a murky dark shape appeared heading towards them.

Ah, hell. Johnny aimed his shotgun, knowing they needed to find that tree.

Annja also had her gun at the ready. They must be near the tree area if he was already coming after them.

The horseman continued to gallop straight towards them, moonlight glinting off the sword in his hand.

Johnny took aim as soon as he thought he could get in a decent shot, and shouted to Annja after he fired, "Let's get to that tree!"

Annja nodded, fighting not to reach out and grab her sword -- even though she could feel it near. She brought up her gun, ready to fire as she followed Johnny.

As the horseman got close to them, it raised its sword in preparation of attack.

Johnny glanced over his shoulder. "Fire, Annja!" At the base of the tree (which he really hoped was the right one) he dropped his bag, pulled out the shovel, and started digging in amongst the roots.

Annja had already lined up her shot before Johnny shouted and when she knew she had the shot, she took it, the firing of the shotgun seeming very loud to her.

The rider and horse disappeared in a puff of black smoke and enraged scream when the salt rounds hit it.

Meanwhile, if one looked carefully amongst the tree roots where the dirt was now disturbed, one could see the bones of a very old corpse.