The Hunt: Emerald (Sinful Seven)
Prologue
THE OPENING CEREMONY
Emerald
I stand on the podium… if you can call it that. It’s more like a stage for slaughter. A wide, black stone platform, raised above the crowd that roars excitedly as if those of us up here are not about to be thrown into a death game.
The noise is deafening, thousands of voices screaming from all sides. The four great viewing zones are packed to bursting, tier upon tier of disgusting spectator. The sky glows with the shimmer of the four enchanted projectors, their magic casting perfect images of us for all to see.
Alphas, Betas, and hell… even some Omega’s from other dimensions, worlds and kingdoms are here to watch. This is fucked up !
But while the fucking ominous floating dragon orbs hover and pan across us, primarily focusing on those who are crying or near tears…
They’ve got to get the fanfare going since all seven Hells are watching, some of the projectors show the definitions and meanings of secondary genders…
“Citizens of the 7 th Hell and Hunt spectators! Welcome to this year’s Grand Hunt!
For those unfamiliar with our honored traditions, let us remind you of the casts that shape this savage and glorious event given to us by our fevered seven Demon Kings!
First, THE ALPHAS.
Born to dominate. The apex predators of our society.
Their strength surpasses all, their senses are unmatched, and their instincts are primal and unforgiving.
In the Hunt, Alphas enter a heightened state of bloodlust and rut, making them unstoppable forces of nature.
They hunt for glory, for blood, and for the right to claim.
Next, THE BETAS.
The balance-keepers. Immune to the savage instincts of Alphas and Omegas, Betas serve as the neutral force in our world, administrators, enforcers, and observers. Within the Hunt, Betas operate as Wardens, enforcing the ancient rules and ensuring the bloodshed remains within its sacred bounds.
And finally, THE OMEGAS.
The coveted prey. Marked from birth as the lowest cast, yet possessing an allure that drives Alphas to madness.
Their bodies betray them with Heats, and their scents can trigger Ruts in any Alpha who dares chase them.
In the Hunt, they run for freedom, most coming from impoverished nations or having been captured and sold as sex slaves due to their pheromones…
some are even criminals! No matter! As long as they win the Hunt, they can gain their freedom!
Forty Omegas. Thousands of Alphas. One week of carnage each, in different time zones! One prize per Hunt!
And now… let the Hunt BEGIN.”
My heart pounds, thunderous in my chest, but I stomp that shit down, holding my own because I don’t want them looking at me.
I don’t want them to single me out, so I grit my teeth, forcing my spine to stay straightened and my hands to stay still.
My mind to stay clear… but it has the exact opposite effect.
Suddenly, me and three other omegas pop up on the screens, all four of us without one tear, without a single emotion…
without fear, which gets the crowd booing.
“brEAK THOSE OMEGAS! brEAK THOSE OMEGAS!” they chant spitefully.
Breathe, Emerald…. fucking breathe. Soon enough, I’m rewarded when the orbs grow bored with us showing no signs of fear and pan over, scanning the crowd again, followed by the hundreds…
no thousands of Alphas maybe more in each of the four gates.
I grit my teeth, fisting my hands. Thousands of them, and only forty of us .
That’s ten Omegas per hundreds of Alphas. It’s way too fucking clear we are not just prey… we are meat. The game is rigged, and we are meant to lose.
The Administrator of the Hunt steps forward.
Her crimson skin, black eyes, midsize horns and dominating aura immediately quiets the chants.
I’m sure they are all overwhelmed by her beauty.
She’s youthful, yet anyone with a brain would know she can destroy this entire stadium with a flick of her finger, so her looks can be deceiving…
apparently the bitch has served the seven Demon Kings as their faithful servant in all lifetimes.
“A moment of silence to honor the Seven Demon Kings,” she intones, and the crowd falls silent as seven loud blasts resound.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Seven great flames are lit in seven different colors.
Red. Orange. Yellow. Green. Blue. Indigo. Violet…
Followed by the seven great statues behind the flames, each one representing a Deadly Sin, the seven white-haired, red eye’d Demon Kings who rule the hells with an iron fist and created this twisted game out of sheer fucking boredom a few millennia ago …
Lust. Wrath. Greed. Envy. Gluttony. Sloth. Pride.
Standing behind the depictions in the middle is an image we can barely see, representing the Demon Emperor. I don’t want to talk or even think about THAT one…
The crowd bows their heads. The Alphas snarl their devotions, and we Omegas…
well, I don’t think anyone cares what the fuck we do.
But I can’t help but send out silent words of hate to them and be glad they are not here for this Hunt.
I hear when they disappear, the Hunt’s attendance lessens, but every few hundred years, or so they will pop back up and change things for the worse, making things even more savage than they already are.
I pr ay to the Source that the Demon Kings remain wherever they are.
Rumors state they were recently born on one of the Earths inhabited by humans. I can only imagine the malice in them, being born into a world dominated by the beings the Demon Kings despise the most. Nothing but calamity, death, and destruction follow every time they return.
After seventy seconds of silence, the Administrator unrolls a scroll and his voice rings out:
“Hear the Seven Rules of the Hunt as ordered by our Kings!”
She reads them slow, each word heavy and a punch in the gut:
ANYTHING GOES.
Alphas may kill other Alphas or Omegas without penalty. Any Omega may kill an Alpha?—
She pauses reading the rules, a low humiliating chuckle on her lips, and the crowd laughs with her, as if stating how ridiculous the very line in the rule is, and of course she’s right…
because that’s not how things normally go.
But this time will be different… there has never been an Omega who has even killed an Alpha during the Hunt or won it, but I plan to change both those narratives. She clears her throat .
“Any who…” she continues on
All beings within the Hunt arena are able to kill and be killed. Bloodshed isexpected, encouraged, and honored. No grievance shall be heard for the dead.
OMEGAS ARECLAIMED BY RIGHT OF CAPTURE.
Any Omega caught may be used howevertheAlpha sees fit… body, bond, or otherwise. Consent is not required once captured. All acts are legal within the Hunt.
NO LEAVING THE GROUNDS.
All participants, whether Alpha or Omega, who cross beyond the Hunt’s designated boundaries, shall be executed. No exceptions.
THE HUNT LASTS SEVEN DAYS.
The Hunt begins at thefirst horn blast and endsat sunset on the seventh day, after the final horn. No Alpha may claim victory, no Omegamayclaim freedom, and no prizes will be awarded before theseventh day ends and the eighth horn blows.
If anAlpha delivers a live Omega to the checkpoint before sunset on the final day, they must remain inside the checkpoint with their claim until the Hunt ends to be declared victor.
Any Omega caught before the seventh sunset is still in the game and can still earn freedom as long as they reach the checkpoint unaccompanied by an Alpha.
Any Alpha or Omega caught attempting to flee the grounds early forfeits life and prize.
THE DEAD ARE LEFT TO ROT.
No retrieval of bodies is permitted untilthe Hunt ends. Corpses shall remain where they fall, as warning or as bait.
ALLIES ARE TEMPORARY.
Alphas may form temporary pacts, but no bond holdsonce anOmega is withinreach. Betrayal is not only expected, it is tradition.
THE CHECKPOINTDETERMINES THE VICTOR.
To win the Hunt, anAlpha mustdeliveraliveOmegato thecheckpointbefore sunset on the seventh day. Both Alpha and Omega must remain inside thecheckpoint and alive until the final horn blows.
Alphas- simply catching an Omega is not enough. You must bring them in, alive, and hold them until the end.
Omegas- simply surviving is notenough. You must arrive at the checkpoint unaccompanied by an Alpha.
If multiple Alphas reachthe checkpoint with Omegas, the first Alpha to arrive with a claimedOmega is declared the victor and takes the prize.
If no Alpha delivers a live Omega or no Omega reaches the checkpointby the final sunset,there is no winner. The Hunt ends.
Each brutal rule hangs in the air, echoed on the projections, making me feel as if I want to throw the fuck up, but I swallow that shit down fast, though a few Omegas pass out from sheer fear. The only thing that gets them is more time on the projectors and jeers.
Focus… do not give them fanfare…
The Administrator lifts her staff and her voice rings out on all four livestreams.
“Alphas! Take your Oath!”
Deafening roars answer her as thousands of Alphas shout in savage unison.
“I am Alpha. I enter this Hunt for blood, for dominance, for the right of the strong. I shall kill as I will. I shall take what is mine. No law binds me, but the law of the Hunt. I shall not flee the grounds. I shall not cry mercy. Let the weak fall! Let the strong feast! And the wild decide!”
The sound shakes the very stones beneath us. The crowd surges to its feet again, wild with cheers. I grit my teeth harder, jaw aching. This is fucking madness. A spectacle of slaughter. This isn’t a contest. It’s a fucking culling !
Then the Administrator turns to us, her smile thin and sinister…
“Omegas,” she grins. “Speak your rules.”
The guards prod us. Together, the forty of us recite the words we were forced to learn in dull unison, almost as if ghosts fill the arena instead of people.
“We enter by choice or chain. We are prey. We may run, fight, or die. If claimed, we are no longer our own. If we cross the boundary, we die. If we reach the checkpoint alive on the seventh day, we may earn freedom. There is no mercy. No savior. This is the Hunt.”
The crowd cheers again, as if we’ve promised them a fine hunt.
Fucking monsters.
Without ceremony, the guards begin herd us off the stage down the narrow steps and one by one we are handed tiny yellow and blue pills with a GG carved on them…
and one by one before we are shoved into a single iron and wood box on wheels, they force us to place them on our tongues as the crowd watches them dissolve. Pheromone inducers …
I’d heard about these pills… apparently King Greed and King Gluttony love being bathed in phenomes and had harems that almost rivaled King Lust’s, but they were short a few hundred people.
They created these pills to keep the pheromones going nonstop and they even get stronger over a seven-day period…
I just thank the Source it’s not King Lust’s pill… it drives one mad for sex…
When it’s my turn, I do as I’m told, and I’m shoved in as well, where I see there are no seats. No comfort. Just a cage on wheels. Forty of us. In one box. Packed like sheep to slaughter.
As I, the last one, step inside, I don’t even have time to see the inside before the door slams shut behind me with a deafening clang, cutting off the cheering crowd outside like a snuffed flame.
Inside, we are silent, but I feel around and find a corner, where I lean my head back against it, heart now hammering.
Don’t panic Emerald… I practiced a bit before joining… I have strength! I am not a victim… you will win…
I will win!