Call Me Cruel
Author's note: I wrote this because I wanted to write about the difference between humans and animals.
The Hunt BeginsIn the dark they hunt him like a fox, into the night they charge, lights and knifes brandished. What they really want is to feel cold and scared flesh beneath their hands. They can no longer speak, they can only growl and yell. They used to be men, they used to be human; but now they're a mob.
Call me cruel but I have to leave him for dead. Getting in the way of a mob means death, we all know that. Like sharks, once they get the sent of blood it's all hopeless. Welcome to the new world, where
From my tree I watch the mob rush my, the stench of men together hurts my nose. Not to mention their noise. It is not good for a girl to be out alone in the night, it never has been. I have a knife, I have a gun and I'm not afraid to kill. I've seen what color men are inside, I've seen what dead eyes look like and I've heard many a death cry in my sweet sixteen years. I've learned how to kill a man, stay motionless for hours, how to hunt and how to live. I've gained scars, calluses and a cruelty that runs deep within my soul. These days have ripped out my heart and replaced it with a cold stone.
"What are you doing up there?" A voice croons though the dwindling light. I remain motionless, just like my stone heart. I look down in the darkness, and make out the shape of a boy, or young man. I know him, and I know I am his prey. I don't say anything. I've got the advantage when he tries to attack me, I draw my gun. At this range he's as good as dead.
"That is not a very nice thing to do, I was asking a simple question." There is a tone of menace in his crooning voice.
"Get your hands where I can see them." Though the dark my voice is as cold and hard as steel. He places his hands on the trunk of the tree. I'm slightly stuck how. For a moment my mind whirls, then my thoughts become clear and a plan forms in my mind. I swing of a branch with my free hand and plant my shoe in his hand just as hard as I can, he yelps in pain and I swing and get the other hand. While he recoils in pain I tear into the dark wood.
I will have about five minutes before he recovers. In that time I have to have made good distance between us and found a good hiding place with an advantage for killing him, should I need to. I am not afraid to kill, but I am not proud of it either. I will avoid it if I can.
The fading light will conceal me, but it also conceals others. I have almost no chance of picking out anyone in this dark, in this terrine at this speed. My only chance is being so fast they have no chance to aim themselves or their bullets. He will have recovered now, and he'll be furious. I leap into the roots of a tree and plunge into further darkness. I land and skid slightly on some loose rocks. The moon has come out. That will help me see but it will also help others see me.
I try to quiet my pounding heart. He will be somewhere above. He never gives up, he will keep looking for me. I remain completely silent. I should really have killed him back there, I had the perfect opportunity too. But we both know I can't. He is the spit image of a boy I used to be in love with, so therefore I cannot kill him. He knows that, He will take advantage of it as best he can.
I don't really blame him, I would do the same, if I liked to hunt people. Which I don't.
That's why I'm prey.