Unmatched: Chapter 2: Fighting Spirit 

This chapter contains mentions of blood and mild elements of body horror that some readers may find upsetting. Discretion is advised. 

Hunter threw open the door to his home. He managed to stagger inside, throwing it shut with a slam. He fumbled with the lock, nearly collapsing against the sturdy wood as he prayed for safety. What just happened? He glanced out the window. No sign of the monstrous shadows he’d seen moments earlier, just a shrike feasting on a squirrel in the hedge. He hit his forehead on the door, trying to get the shaking in his hands under control again. That was it. It was time for bed. He threw his backpack into the kitchen, still gasping for air. He didn’t even remember the run back home - it had all happened so fast. He opened the door to his bedroom and collapsed into bed, not even bothering to change. As soon as his head hit the pillow, he was swallowed by the abyss of sleep. 

—

Alan Keyes had been found guilty. The odds of him seeing the outside of a cell anytime soon were slim, and he knew it. He followed the guard down the halls of the crowded prison, the rough orange jumpsuit chafing at his skin. The guard opened a cell door and practically shoved Alan inside. 

“Welcome to the Hotel Northwater,” he said with a chuckle. “You can check out anytime you like, but you can never leave.”

“That’s good,” Alan said, keeping his good humor. “You should write that down before someone steals it.” 

The guard let out a grunt of disgust and slammed the cell door. Alan set his pillow and blanket down on the cot, then turned to the window. He gazed wistfully through the prison bars, watching the butterflies fly free just beyond his reach. He grew bored after an hour of daydreaming and returned to his cot. It was going to be Lights Out soon, and he wanted to be ready. He unfurled his blanket, scattering an unusual deck of cards across the floor. Curious, he didn’t recall receiving those. He knelt down to gather the cards, but found that touching the backs sent a warm tingle down his fingers. He gathered the deck and admired the unusual things. The faces were blank, but he found an unusual inscription in Latin on the back. 

“In Punga, Non Comparalis Sunt,” he murmured softly to himself. “I wonder what that could mean.” 

He tucked the cards into his pillowcase, ready to consider this mystery further in the morning. For now? It was time to sleep. Outside, the butterflies drifted lazily on the wind, savoring their freedom. 

As he drifted deeper into the realm of dream, Hunter felt himself falling. He thought he’d wake up before hitting the ground, as one always did in these sorts of dreams, but he was surprised to find that he landed hard in a dune of coarse sand. He slowly climbed to his feet and looked around. He was in some kind of desert, he could tell that much. A sea of sand stretched as far as the eye could see in every direction. He struggled to climb the dune, hoping for a landmark. As he crested the sand, he saw something incredible. Shadows danced across the sand, like the two he’d seen earlier that day. They were uncountable, easily numbering in the hundreds of thousands. As he came into view, they turned their gaze toward him. They began to approach, their ethereal bodies flickering, as though they were unbound by reality. They approached Hunter, who suddenly regretted his choices. 

“Be this he?” asked a male figure, his voice dripping with power. 

“He is not a Player,” said a woman. Even with the shadows shrouding her, Hunter could still tell that she held a bow in her hand. Come to think of it, nearly every one of the shadowy figures was armed with some form of weapon.

“None of them are,” said another man, his voice calm and cool. “Or rather, they haven’t been. Not until they’ve been claimed. After all, what’s a Player without his Hero?” 

“An excellent point, old friend,” said the first man to speak. “Tell me, who among you would claim this man as your Player?” 

It was approaching sunset when Officer Woods stepped out of city hall. The days were getting shorter as the fall dragged on, and they'd get shorter still. But it felt like she'd been talking to the major for years. 

“That was useless,” she huffed as she stepped into her car. She sat down, but didn't start the engine just yet. What a day. Any time she'd asked the mayor a question about his son, he deflected and instead went on about his golf trophies, his political agenda, or his money. Eventually, she'd stopped replying - the windbag didn't even care, going on and on and on. Coming out of that office, she'd learned more about Rupert Wicke’s political career and many, many (mostly bankrupt) businesses than she ever wanted to know, and nothing new about the case. She briefly considered calling Flaherty and Flannigan for advice. 

“Seems that you're in a bit of a spot, my dear,” a voice came from beside her. Marian turned to look at the source of the voice, and saw a handsome stranger in a green jacket sitting in her passenger seat. He flashed a charming smile, and Marian screamed. 

—

The crowd grew silent. The shadowy figures flickered, and Hunter couldn’t help but feel a little offended. Then, a small voice rose above the crowd. 

“I would!” the voice declared. The crowd split like the Red Sea, revealing a figure much smaller than the rest. She strode forward, her feet falling silently on the sand. She stood before Hunter, looking up at him. 

“I claim you as my Player,” she said. “You and I shall fight, and together, we will be Unmatched.” 

“... What?” asked Hunter, bewildered. This was the last time he was going to bed without dinner - hungry Hunter had the weirdest dreams. 

“In battle, there are no equals,” proclaimed the man. He raised his hands to the sky, and there was a crash of thunder. “Hunter Cain, you have been chosen. The time has come to prove yourself. Your time is now!” 

—

Marian leapt from the driver's seat and drew her Taser. She aimed at the stranger sitting in her car, her eyes locked on him. She traced the dancing foxes patterned on his jacket with her eyes, and the trigger with her finger. 

“Who are you?” She demanded, trying to steady her breathing. The stranger sighed softly and moved to exit the car through her open door. 

“If you calm down, I can explain,” he began. Marian took a step back, holding the Taser at arm's length. 

“Don't come any closer!” She ordered, ready for anything. The stranger took another step, and she fired. The pins flew true, striking the stranger right in the chest. 50,000 volts surged through the wires, delivering a jolt that would incapacitate even the strongest of men. Yet, he seemed unbothered. Who was this man? He stepped forward, then vanished. Marian was taken aback - had she blinked? She heard a rustle and glanced behind her. The stranger stood there, raising a hand slowly. Acting on reflex, she threw an elbow, striking the stranger squarely in the cheek. It was like hitting a brick wall, and Marian clutched her aching funny bone. The stranger smoothed his mustache and knelt to tend to her. 

“If you'll just let me explain,” he began. 

“Who are you?” Marian asked, overwhelmed. 

“I,” said the stranger, “am your Hero.” 

—

With a flash of lightning, Hunter jolted awake. He stared at the wall for a minute, trying to process everything that had occurred. What a crazy dream! A soft glow drew his eyes to his desk, and he saw a deck of cards that hadn’t been there before. He stood up from his bed, walking over to examine the cards. He drew one from the top, feeling a surge of warmth through his arm. As he flipped the card over, he saw that the face was blank. He let out a frustrated sigh. Of course he wouldn’t get answers so easily. He checked the time. It was 6 in the morning, easily an hour before he usually woke up. He considered going back to bed, to try and forget the night before, but his stomach rumbled. Ah, yes, he'd gone to bed without dinner. He stood up and made his way to the kitchen. 

Marian stared across the diner table at her associate. He took a knife and spread some jam on a roll, then took a bite. Marian had a sip of her coffee, not taking her eyes off the stranger. 

“Run that by me again, just one more time,” she said, finally having a bite of some toast. The stranger smiled and bowed his head. 

“Of course, my lady. I am Robin of Locksley,” he said. 

“Right, Robin Hood,” said Marian incredulously. 

“I suppose, to some,” the man said with a playful smile. “I am a Hero, summoned for the great tournament. That makes you, my lady, my enviable Player.” 

“Tournament?” Marian quirked an eyebrow. “Elaborate on that.” 

“The rules are complex, so let me be brief,” the man claiming to be Robin Hood said. “I am but one of several Heroes, summoned to do battle for supremacy. Whoever conquers their every opponent in battle wins the title of Unmatched.” 

“Hmm,” Marian mused as she contemplated her coffee. She furrowed her brow, thinking about the stranger's words. Her eyes fell on the deck of cards, and she pursed her lips. Every part of her wanted his story to be true. She'd seen every Robin Hood movie ever made, and now she'd been supposedly chosen by the man himself to serve as his Player? It was too good to be true, even if he did have the second-most English accent of any Robin Hood she'd ever seen. 

Hunter turned on the small kitchen television for some background noise. The news was on, and Hunter only half-listened as he set about making something to satisfy the starving beast. 

“We have confirmed that Chad Matters and Rupert Wicke Jr, son of our city's own mayor, have been found dead in their homes. While police currently lack any leads, they do suspect the work of a serial killer. If you have any information, please contact your local police branch.” 

Hunter glanced back at the screen as he cut some strawberries. He placed them in his oatmeal, then fished a spoon from the drawer. He leaned over the counter to eat. Bigfoot, murders, and a lunatic with a sword? This city was getting weirder and weirder. 

“In other news, have you been to the zoo lately? Mango, the adorable Chinese macaque, has escaped from captivity and is running loose in the city. If you see her, keep a respectful distance and call the zoo.” 

Hunter glanced at the television again. Now monkeys running wild? Was Mango the one that destroyed Mr. Wu’s stall yesterday? He stood up and shut off the tv. He sat back down and finished his oatmeal, alone with his thoughts and his strawberries. He stared into the empty bowl, fighting a sob. He slowly stood once more, heading off to take a shower. 

Nice and clean, and wearing some fresh clothes, Hunter returned to his room. He took the deck of cards from his desk and examined it. Still blank. He turned one card over to examine the back. How strange… there was Latin written on the back of the deck. He examined it closely, reading the golden lettering. In pugna, non comparailis sunt. Hunter furrowed his brow as his fingers traced the letters. He didn't speak a word of Latin. But he might know someone who could figure it out. He tossed the cards in his backpack and made his way out the door, heading off to another day at school. 

Marian set her coffee down and looked at the man. She'd thought long and hard about it, and finally came to the only conclusion that she could. 

“I can't help you,” she finally said. Robin looked distraught. 

“My lady!” He protested, turning to face her. 

“The way I see it, there are two options,” Marian continued. “Nothing you've told me is true, and this has all been a huge waste of my time. Either that, or everything has been true. If that's the case, then you want me to take a break from an actual murder investigation to play some stupid tournament.” 

“When you put it like that, it sounds foolish,” said Robin sheepishly. “But it is truth. I may be a lot of things - an outlaw, a scoundrel, and a thief among them - but I am no liar.” 

“You're deep in your character,” Marian sighed. “But there's a serial killer running around, and I need to put a stop to him; because God knows Flaherty and Flannigan won't. I just don't have time for this.” Marian pulled some bills from her wallet and set them on the table, moving to stand up. “Good luck with your… whatever this is.” 

“What if I could help you?” Robin asked. He stood. “I could be of use to you. After all, who better to catch an outlaw?” 

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Marian said as she turned to leave the diner. She got all the way to the door before Robin’s voice made her pause. 

“Your killer, my lady, is a Player!” 

Hunter slipped into the classroom and looked over the faces of his fellow students. He made his way to one seat specifically and dropped in. His classmate turned to him, a thin young man with wiry blond hair. 

“Look what the cat dragged in,” he teased. 

“Hey, Cal,” Hunter said. Calvin Burns was a student of classical studies, so he didn't share every class with Hunter. Despite this, the two were on okay terms. Other classmates tended to ignore Hunter, while Cal was alright with a little friendly conversation here and there. That was the way Hunter liked it - distant. Almost professional. 

“You alright?” The blond asked. “You look like you've seen a ghost.” 

“I'm good,” Hunter said. “Just been a weird couple of days.” He paused as he pondered his next words. “How's your Latin?” 

“Best in the class,” Cal bragged. Hunter took off his backpack and fished out one of the strange cards that had appeared on his desk. Cal's eyes lit up as Hunter passed him the card. 

“What do you make of this?” He asked. Cal scanned the back, then flipped the card over to check the face. 

“Blank cards?” He asked, smirking. “Where'd you get this?” 

“Found them,” Hunter said. It was technically true - he had found them. He found them right where they appeared on his desk. “The Latin?” 

“Right. It's a bit tricky to translate directly, since Latin is a dead language and all,” Cal said. “But loosely, it means something like ‘In battle, there are no equals.” 

“Huh,” Hunter said softly. Where had he heard those words before? 

“If you want, I can take the deck off your hands. It might be worth something to an antiquarian,” Cal offered. Hunter shook his head and took the card back. 

“Maybe later,” he said. He stowed the card and looked at his friend. Cal looked unusually angry about being denied. Hunter pursed his lips as he thought about why that could be, but Cal looked away. The teacher stepped through the door, interrupting any further thoughts on the subject. It was time to learn, after all. There'd always be more time to think about his cards later. 

The sound of a buzzer roused Alan from his sleep. He hadn't slept well on his prison cot - people so rarely did, they weren't designed with comfort in mind. He swung his legs over the edge of the cot and stretched, finally opening his eyes to see that he had a guest. A man in a suit stood at the wall opposite to him, flicking an ordinary playing card in his fingers. Alan stood up, raising an eyebrow. 

“Good morning,” he said. “Sorry, I didn't hear you come in.” 

“Think nothing of it,” said the suited stranger. With a flourish of his hands, the card he was playing with disappeared. He reached behind Alan’s ear and withdrew it, earning a chuckle from the thief. 

“I didn't realize they were sending us magicians,” he said. 

“I can only apologize for the delay,” the magician replied with a playful smile. “No bird belongs in a cage.” 

“Then can I assume you have a key?” Alan asked, sitting on the edge of his cot. The magician chuckled. 

“I need no keys” he said. “Take your cards. You'll need them where we're going.” 

“How did you-?” Alan began, before stopping. He chuckled and drew the deck of cards from his pillowcase. He glanced at the blank faces, but they weren't blank anymore. Instead, they now had an image of a magician weaving illusions, bending space, and performing the impossible. He looked up at the stranger in his cell, and the man laid a hand on his forehead. In a second, the pair vanished, leaving an empty cell behind them. 

Marian looked up at the rooftop. The building was insanely tall - the tallest in the city. It was so incredibly tall, and yet she witnessed the man claiming to be Robin Hood scale it effortlessly. It was strange - the more superhuman feats she witnessed, the less she believed he was who he claimed. Still, she couldn't deny that there was something impossible going on. She touched the earpiece in her ear. 

“Robin, can you hear me?” She asked. There was a moment of silence, then finally, his voice broke the tension. 

“This modern sorcery of yours is amazing, my lady,” Robin’s voice came from the device. “I can hear you as clearly as if you were by my side.” 

“Yeah, Bluetooth is amazing,” Marian said. “Remind me again how you know our killer is a Player.” 

“It's quite simple,” Robin explained. “The two victims were players. Killed by an immortal hand, wielding a king’s sword. Who else would gain from this transgression but a player?” 

“Sounds like guesswork to me,” Marian said skeptically. 

“It's difficult to explain,” Robin said calmly. “Do you trust me?” 

“I've seen what you can do,” Marian replied. 

“Then we'd best make haste,” Robin said. “Up here, I am a beacon to other heroes, and their players shan't be far behind.” 

“Save it for the Renaissance faire,” Marian mused. The crack of glass startled her, and she whipped around. She saw nothing, but for some reason, the side mirror of her squad car had broken. She knelt to examine the broken mirror, but Robin demanded her attention once again. 

“My lady, I see someone!” He exclaimed. “Behind you!” 

“You should listen to your friend,” said a young woman as she approached. She dragged her manicured nails along the windows of the building she passed. The windows began to shatter with every step she took. Her hair was waist-length and a rich brown, sparkling in the sun. Her green eyes burned with a wicked ambition. “Oh, well. We'll take him off your hands, won't we, Mary?” 

Hunter left the school, finally feeling like things were starting to go back to normal again. The shock of the cards had worn off, and his strange dream was all but forgotten. As he wandered idly, trying to bring his thoughts back to his homework, he felt a tug on his sleeve. He looked down at the source, and saw a young girl, no older than 10. She had short, brown hair that curled around her face, and wore a red hoodie. She clung to a little pink backpack covered in a strawberry print. She stared up at him with piercing gray eyes, her face was a mask of stoic disinterest that Hunter couldn't pierce. Who was this weird little girl? Why was she pulling on his sleeve like she knew him? 

“Will you play with me, mister?” She asked. Hunter's eyes went wide. 

“What?” He asked. 

“I want you to play with me,” she said insistently. Hunter took a step back. He looked around to see if this girl's parents were searching for her, but he saw nothing. The streets were unusually empty, actually. He shook his head.

“Sorry, I have to get home,” he said, scrambling for an excuse. He turned and began to walk, but the girl called after him. 

“You have the cards! You're already playing!” She called. Hunter sped up, practically running away from the strange girl. 

Marian stared across the street at her opponent. A foul wind blew across the street, curling her nose hair. She wrinkled her nose in response. Her hands drifted to her belt, her fingers danced across her handcuffs, but then drifted to the deck of cards. 

“Where's your hero, officer?” Asked the stranger. Her hair blew in the wind, as did the ruffles on her sleeves. She was a gorgeous woman, a little younger than Marian. She'd be stunned if it weren't for the tension in the air. 

“Where's yours?” Marian replied coldly. The stranger chuckled.

“Oh, she's…” a crack of glass punctuated the pause. “Around.” 

At that, a hand came flying from one of the fractured windows, grasping for Marian. She let out a scream as she dove out of the way of the grasping hand. She hit the ground and rolled, finding herself staring at another piece of glass. Her reflection vanished, replaced by a pale woman with long, black hair. Tears of blood dripped down her cheeks, and she wore a tattered funeral dress. She reached out, her hand breaking through the barrier between mirror and reality. Marian scrambled to her feet and looked for something she could use to fight back. The ghostly woman rose from her mirror, only connected to the glass by a thin strand of hair. She lunged at Marian, and the officer cried out.

“Robin!” She called. 

Answering his Player's urgent call, Robin leapt into action. He dove from the rooftop, a shroud of shadow circling his body. As he emerged, he looked quite different - his modern clothes were replaced with a green jerkin and leather boots, while a jaunty cap with a long feather perched atop his head. A bow of yew appeared in his right hand, and he drew back an arrow. He spun in midair, loosing his arrow into the spectral figure. The arrow flew true, scattering the ghostly image as he landed on his feet. Marian stared at the man, her mouth agape with shock. She couldn't deny it anymore. This was the real Robin Hood. 

“I'm not in the habit of attacking young ladies,” said Robin as he rose. He nocked another arrow on his bowstring. “So, let's draw our cards and settle this like civilized people.” 

“Sounds good to me,” said the stranger. She raised her hand, and five cards appeared, suspended in the air before her. Her hero swayed, poised to make another strike. 

[Fight song: Enemy - Imagine Dragons]

Marian’s opponent raised her hand and summoned the image of five cards in the air in front of her. Her Hero was nowhere to be seen, but that only made Marian nervous. She seemed to rely on ambush tactics, so an enemy she couldn’t see was far more dangerous than one she could. 

“Let’s end this quickly, Mary,” said the young woman. Another card appeared. She touched one of her cards, and it began to glow. From nowhere, an impossibly long arm appeared, raking bloody nails across Robin’s back. He let out a grunt, but shrugged off the hit. 

“My lady, I’d suggest defending,” he offered. Marian blinked, then nodded. 

“Right!” she said, raising her hand. The cards were foreign to her, but somehow, she could tell what each of them did. 

“Thanks for the free hit, officer!” the woman chuckled. She touched another card, but Marian was ready this time. She touched one of hers, and Robin deftly avoided the strike. 

“Give her some distance, Robin!” Marian ordered. Robin obliged, leaping impossibly high. He spun around, drawing back his bow. Marian pressed on a card, and Robin fired his arrow. The arrowhead glowed with power, but the attack blew past the ghost. The arrow bent its path in midair, flying straight toward the Player standing across from Marian. She shrieked and cringed away, crossing her arms over her face to protect herself. The arrow pierced one of her cards, shattering the image before fading from existence. The woman let out a ragged breath, glaring at Marian. 

“So, you’re attacking my hand, instead of my Hero?” she spat, pulling out a compact mirror. She checked her reflection and wiped at a makeup smudge. “Do you have any idea how long it took me to do that eyeliner this morning?” 

“Got a problem?” Marian asked, smirking. The woman growled as she drew her next card. 

“Now it’s lopsided, you bitch!” she cried, touching her next card. Mary sank into the glass, then a flurry of ghostly hands flew from the reflection. There must have been hundreds of them, all attached to impossibly long arms, stretching and reaching for her Hero. Marian touched her card, and Robin launched himself at the hands. He fired an arrow, scattering the grasping horde, landing on his feet. Marian pressed two more cards, and Robin nocked two arrows at once. He drew back the bowstring, letting his arrows fly at Mary. Mary deflected the first with a mirror, splintering the arrowhead. A shard shattered another of the stranger’s cards, and she growled. 

“Stop stealing my cards!” she demanded, tossing her hair. 

“Sorry,” said Robin with an insufferable smirk. “Haven’t you heard? I’m an outlaw. It’s kind of my thing!” 

“Mary, kill him!” the woman ordered. She pressed more cards and her Hero obliged. Mary rose from the broken glass on the ground, unleashing a horrid scream at the outlaw. Robin crossed his arms, leaping back from the attack. He landed on the wall of the building, standing up on the glassy face as though gravity was a mere suggestion. Marian sighed. Impossible feat after impossible feat. The ghost sank back into her mirror, and the woman smiled cruelly. 

“You do know that Mary’s whole thing is appearing from mirrors, right?” she asked, taunting the officer. Marian stared in horror as the ghostly form of Bloody Mary appeared on the building. The entire face of the building served as a giant mirror, and the Mary that appeared was equally massive. 

“What is this?” she demanded. Her opponent laughed.

“The finishing blow!” she said. Marian grit her teeth. She touched another card, and Robin leapt from the building with incredible force. The shockwave from his mighty leap shattered the windows, raining glass down on the street below. Marian ran, dodging the hail of crystal from above and rolling into the safety of a bus shelter. She pulled up her cards once more, selecting one. Robin let fly another attack, shattering yet another card from his opponent’s hand. 

The fight was nearly over. Robin swayed, his breath heavy and ragged. Mary looked on impassively, though a quiet rage burned in her eyes. An electric tension hung in the air, with neither player daring to breathe. Then, the stranger drew her card. She glanced over her hand, carefully choosing her next move, when the wail of sirens pierced the night. Marian looked back and saw the flashing red and blue lights, letting out a sigh of relief. The strange woman pursed her lips. 

“You got lucky, officer!” she called out. She raised her hand, withdrawing her Hero back to her side. She appeared at her Player’s side, glaring at Marian through her tangled black hair. She tossed her hair once more. 

“Who are you?” Marian demanded as Robin alighted at her side once more. The sirens drew nearer. 

“I’m your enemy,” said the woman. She laid her hand on Mary’s shoulder, and the ghostly girl vanished with her player in tow. Marian fell to her knees, panting as the stress finally crested on her. The squad car pulled up, and Detectives Flaherty and Flannigan stepped out of the car. 

“What the hell happened here?” Flannigan asked, surveying the damage. Marian had no words, just collapsing on the ground. 

Hunter had just stopped in time to avoid being run down by a police car with its sirens blaring. He stopped to catch his breath. What was happening in this city? Why was he so freaked out? Was anyone going to tell him what was going on? He looked across the street, where a man in casual clothes watched from afar. He smiled and took a step forward. A man in a suit appeared out of nowhere, approaching casually. 

“You’re sure this is him, Houdini?” asked the casual man, crossing his arms. The suited stranger nodded. 

“No doubt about it,” he replied. 

“Who are you? What do you want?” Hunter demanded, taking a few steps back. The stranger chuckled. 

“Just a man who owes a debt to a friend,” he said. “As for what we want, we’ll take those pretty cards you’re carrying.” 

“What?” Hunter asked. He tripped on the curb, falling backward onto the ground. Houdini stepped closer, holding out his hand. 

“I’d rather not get rough with you, so just hand them over,” the stranger said. Hunter stared in disbelief. He reached for his pocket - if he could reach Marian, she’d help him! He started to dial the number, but Houdini knocked the phone from his hand. The little black box clattered to the ground. Hunter stared after it, his heart sinking into his stomach. Nobody was coming to help him. He couldn’t save Rudu, and now… nobody could save him. 

“Deal with him, Houdini,” said the stranger. He was clearly bored, like he was expecting more of a challenge. Houdini closed a fist and drew back. Hunter flinched, closing his eyes as he waited for the inevitable. He heard the smack of flesh striking flesh, a blow that echoed with impossible power. But he didn’t feel any pain. He opened his eyes, staring up at his enemy. The punch had been blocked, and Houdini looked surprised. Hunter stared at his savior - the little girl from before! She held Houdini in place by his fist, glancing down at the stunned Hunter. Their eyes locked, and he felt the power in her tiny frame. 

“What big eyes you have,” she said simply. 

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