Nobody can know. Not even here in New York City, where people expect the unexpected every day. It’s too much for anyone to handle, except me apparently. These people who aren’t people, blending with the ordinary to try to make a living, are my little secret. The creatures hiding in the shadows are my responsibility. None of the Regulars, what we call normal people in normal lives, knew about these inhuman things living among them. I’m sure there are other people who know about them, because otherwise why haven’t these things taken control yet? And if there’s an entire organization devoted to training people like me there has to be an army of us fighting in the shadows.

For those of you with the clearance to read this, my name is Alex F. I don’t know my last name, apparently I’m not allowed to, and so I just know the first initial. I am a girl, for those of you out there wondering. My parents are nonexistent as far as I’m concerned and all I know is this life. Regular school and a regular life was never an option for me, and I’m glad it wasn’t because now I know what could be out there and I’m prepared for it. Not like all these other girls walking around with these silly ideas floating around their minds. If only they knew.

This is a documentation of my first solo mission, and I apologize in advance if my accuracy in details is a little fuzzy. I’m still perfecting my writing technique. The job I have been given is to subdue or neutralize a hell hound. They are almost invisible and very tricky to catch. When one goes astray they must be taken care of quickly and quietly, preferably out of view from the Regulars. If someone does witness one of our acts, we must take them into custody to have their mind wiped of the memory. I don’t know how this happens because it’s above my pay grade, and I don’t think I care to find out. From what I heard it’s a gruesome process and no one really knows where those people end up.

I was given a general perimeter of where this hell hound could be and was told to search everywhere. To find a hell hound you can’t look for the actual hound. You have to find signs of their presence, like four deep gouges in a brick wall. The easiest way to track one is to find their paw marks embedded in streets or sidewalks. They’re bigger than any dog could leave behind and you can see little dots above each of their toes where their claws stuck into the pavement. These marks are very faint and take a trained eye to catch. However, once you are aware of a hell hound’s presence and know their location, they become completely visible as an intimidation technique.

Quite a while into my search I finally found evidence of this hound I had to take care of. I could see why I was sent to hunt it down, for its presence was incredibly obvious. I wouldn’t doubt that it was the cause of the mysterious deaths occurring in the area. This thing was getting way too risky and if it continued on this path its discovery would be inevitable. The last thing we need is to have a stupid mutt outing our entire organization.

As I was walking down an alleyway I heard a deep growl way too close for comfort. I froze, looking towards the sound and seeing nothing. This must be it, my moment to shine. Or, you know, crash and burn. The hell hound appeared before me in all its horrifying glory, looming over my head. Trying to keep my wits about me I pulled out the only thing that could really do some damage to a hell hound; a dagger from an Angel.
No one knows how we gained possession of these artifacts, but they’re becoming pretty common in my field of work. I know what you’re thinking; a dagger against a hell hound? Really? But trust me, it’s the best thing you could have if you end up facing this thing.
With no warning the beast jumped towards me, barely giving me time to react. I attempted to do a sort of side step, but that just led to it plowing through my left shoulder and tossing me to the ground. It stood over me and almost seemed to smirk through all of its malice. It figured I was no match, a mere human; I was the equivalent of a fly. I readied my dagger, hoping to do some damage before it could finish me off. I should have listened to everyone in the organization. They are the people who raised me and taught me everything I know. Every bit of my abilities is known by them, why would I think they were wrong about me going by myself? I should have at least taken a partner with me, because I was in way over my head and it was too late to go back on my decision. The only thing left to do was fight and hope for the best.
The hell hound snapped its teeth inches from my face, unable to resist its need to kill. Taking advantage of this I closed my eyes and made a wild slash with the intention of doing at least a little bit of damage. I heard a high pitched howl and a shadow seemed to be lifted away from my closed eyes. When I reopened them it was a further distance away, reevaluating how much of a threat I was. I quickly stood and made my best attempt at looking tough and prepared for what was happening.
I figured I didn’t have much of a choice but to fight back, so I sprinted towards it and brought my weapon down with all my might, and felt the hound crumbling under my hand. It curled up on the ground, every inch of it screaming pain, and then it seemed to evaporate in a poof of black smoke. The hound was off to wherever these things go when we kill them.
My adrenaline coming down, it felt as if my body was on fire. Looking down, I noticed the hell hound got a few good slashes in when I made my final move. There was so much blood but I was becoming too tired to care. What did it matter if I took a quick nap in some random alley? There wasn’t going to be anyone looking for me. Besides, I took care of my duty. The hell hound had been neutralized. I was done.
Deep down, a voice was telling me sleeping was the wrong thing to do. That sleeping meant death. I was past caring about anything though. I just wanted the pain to stop and this deep sleep was lapping against my subconscious and luring me into its depths. I heard someone yelling, but they were too far away for me to care. There was probably something else going on in the streets on New York that needed someone’s attention, not some strange girl bleeding on the ground off one of the main roads. Who would care?
I felt someone pushing me, but it was as if they were pushing someone else, and I was just looking on. I saw myself lying there and the only thing I could think about was how broken I looked. And then I saw the owner of the voice crouched down, trying to get me to wake up. I laughed and wanted to tell him it was of no use, I was gone already and it was okay. The last thing I remember was the man pulling out his phone followed by the sound of sirens approaching.
He said, “Don’t worry, help is on the way.” I didn’t stick around long enough to see if he was telling the truth.