Post by aidendeimos on Jun 26, 2018 17:54:16 GMT -8
“The Hunt…” - Part One
By Aiden Deimos and Viduus Morta
Vs. Team ATARI
"All species capable of grasping this fact manage better in the struggle for existence than those which rely upon their own strength alone: the wolf, which hunts in a pack, has a greater chance of survival than the lion, which hunts alone."
In and out...in and out… the sound of heavy breathing breaks the silence of the night. A man is unfamiliar, his blue jeans torn at the knee and around the ankles. His crimson red shirt made him stand out slightly underneath the light of the moon as he leaned up against the giant and girthy stump that was a redwood tree. His feet ached from running for what has seemed for miles, two men seemed to have been following him, and no matter how far he went they were never far behind, despite never breaking a walking pace. “That was impossible!” He thought to himself as he peered around the large tree.
In the distant, the two shadow figures break the plane on the horizon as they come onto the hilltop. In the distance he can see small lights of civilization, flickering. They sang out to him like a chorus of church bells welcoming him to safety, at least he hoped. “Stop,” he told himself, he couldn’t think that way, he would be safe there, he knew it. The only thing now was he had to make his way over there without being seen. He peaks back around the redwood, trying to gage when he could run, what he saw shocked him. Only one man remained. “They must have split up, hoping to find me easier.” He whispered to himself. Hearing his voice seemed to calm him slightly.
He leaned down and tightened his shoelaces, knowing that if it came to it, he would just keep running, and maybe...maybe the people that accompanied that light in the distance would be able to fight alongside him. He takes a deep breath, then runs. Dead sprint towards the direction of the flickering beacon of hope in the distance. Trees whizzed past him as his boots crunch dry grass and falling sticks. He knows that if the men following him were close, they would hear him, but at this point, he didn’t care, he knew his only chance of survival was making it to that light.
He reached a steep decline, the flickering light in the distance seemingly coming in closer. He takes a second to gather himself and slow his breathing. He knew one misstep could cost him his life, and at this point, he knew if he were too slow, it would cost him all the same.
He planned out his course of action; the hill had a few trees and boulders on its face, he could use these as checkpoints so he can cautiously make his way down without risking tumbling forty-five feet down the treacherous ground. He begins to move down the hill a quick jog as he made his way down to the first tree, when he got close he tried to slow down but couldn’t and slammed into the bark. He eyed a boulder just about 10 feet away, he took a few steps then caught a root. He fell his foot caught in the root twisted and snapped, the root gave way, and he tumbled down the face of the hill.
It felt like he was falling forever, thistles and bushes cutting up his bare arms, legs, and face. Just as quickly as he started falling, he stopped, his back colliding with the flat surface of the side of a rock. The air in his lungs was firing out of his body and into the environment around him. He fights to gain back his breath, but once he does, he immediately begins to feel his ankle. Burning like fire, he reaches down and touches the side; it takes everything he has not to let out a scream of pain.
His ankle begins to swell, as tears begin to make streaks in his dirt ridden face. “How much closer where the men?” He thought to himself. That had to have made a lot of noise, drawing in anyone that was looking for him. As if to answer his question two shadows emerge at the top of the hill. He tries to run, but the pain from his ankle causes him to drop back to the ground.
“COME ON!” He screams. There was no point in staying quiet now, they had found him. His only hope now was to make as much noise possible to draw in any passer buyers for help. “HELP ME PLEASE!” He yelled in the direction of the light, as he rises to his feet once more, using the tree next to him as assistance.
Thunk! A silver dagger sticks right between his middle and forefingers. It hadn’t been there before he knew, he looks back and sees one of the men winding back, and with a glint of silver sparkling in the moonlight, throws a second dagger, this one in the direction of his head. He ducks, now certain that his to chasers where trying to kill him.
“HELP ME PLEASE! ANYONE! THEY’RE TRYING TO KILL ME!” He screams again, this time he is running away, more like hobbling in the direction of the flickering light of hope that once felt so close, seems miles and miles away. They must know that was where he was going, but he had to beat them, his survival counted on it.
Limping through the forest, using massive redwoods to keep him steady as he continues to run away and towards all at once. He glances back at the two men, both still in the range of sight but they are getting smaller. This confused him, why would they still be walking.
“Almost there.” He reassured himself with gasping breaths his ankle and lungs burning as the flickering light turned into a campfire, then the campfire turned into a bonfire. He began to hear the slight sound of a guitar strumming. “I’m close.” he thought. The two men no longer can be seen, but he knew that they too had seen the fire, and they too would be coming.
He lets out another plea, “Help me! Please!” The beautiful strumming of the guitar stopped. They heard him he thought as he began to close in on the campsite. He stumbled past an old yellow tent, large enough to fit a large child in, no pillow or sleeping bag can be seen. There was only one man, and he wasn’t either that were chasing him. The man was tall and thin. His skin was as pale as a glass of milk; it seemed to sparkle in the light that the flames cast. Dark shadows hid his sunken eyes as the man slowly turned to face him, his guitar resting on a rock that was smooth on top like a chair.
~TO BE CONTINUED~
