Being a hunter isn't really a career. You dedicate your life to the idea of hunting. Hunters are a combination of determination and selfishness. Yet, they can also be noble and heroic. The hunter hunts usually in some service to the betterment of mankind. For the advancement and future of everyone. But, in the end; the hunter may hunt what ever it pleases, as long as they hunt something.
A hunter belongs to an incredibly small percentage of the population. They do not only possess the mental and physical prowess of the very best but they are also insanely talented. That's not to say anyone can't become a hunter. It simply means you must be born with the drive to hunt.
My name is Trey. This is my 5th attempt at the storied hunter exam. I'm about to fail... again.
—
In a forest clearing, leaning against the coarse trunk of a tall pine, was twenty-two year old Trey McCloud. He looked worn and battered. Like a statue, he stood motionless, clutching his bloody arm. Bruises and scrapes covered any visible skin. Across from him was a bear like creature advancing closer and closer. Its sinister growl was growing louder by the second. Trey's eyes weren't watching the bear but instead were focused on the cluster of golden glittering quills near the beast's shoulders. They resembled stalagmites embedded with golden ore. Trey clenched his teeth, digging his foot into some loose rock and dirt.
"Little closer. Little closer." He whispered.
The bear approached until it was at arm's length. Trey punted the dirt into its face. A salvo of dust and rocks whirled into a wide cloud surrounding the bear's head. The attack landed perfectly. The bear, disorientated, shook its head back and forth hacking up saliva. It then quickly lashed out, roaring a powerful war cry. Trey dove around the beast. He reached around for the quill, exploiting the bear's confusion. He yanked on it desperately but it wouldn't budge. Quickly the bear regained its senses and what followed was burst of animalistic rage. Trey rolled backwards avoiding its paws. He looked up to see the furry bulldozer rushing him. He was no match for the bear's speed and strength. There was no escape from its war path.
"Ahhhh!" Trey cried, shielding his face with his hands.
Seconds away from being mauled something struck the bear. Trey looked through his fingers to see in that split second a stone ricocheting off it's right eye. The bear's charge changed direction. Its powerful jaws and teeth like a dozen knifes—originally aimed at Trey's throat—recoiled away. However, the charge was unstoppable. The bear trampled over Trey. As though a speeding car just knocked him onto his back and drove over his chest and legs. He gasped trying to collect a breath. He rolled over to find in his eye-line, a man emerging from the woods.
"The Golden-Quill-Bear." The man said revealing himself in the clearing. He was equipped with a backpack, wearing a rain slicker and black face mask. "Unlike its cousins:" He continued holding the half blinded bear's attention. "The smaller rodent porcupine or the larger grizzly from the family ursidae. The Golden-Quill-Bear has a grouping of armored spines that grow from its back. They're located between the shoulders in a triangular shape pointing towards the lumbar. Also, unlike the porcupine, the quills on this particular bear can be projected at a considerable distance."
"That guy just took one of the monster's eyes out with a rock from god knows how far away, and now he's reciting facts. He's insane. " Trey thought.
The bear had had enough of the chattering and launched into a violent fervour in his direction. Trey pushed himself up off the ground. He was resting on his knees watching the bear close in on the unknown man. Right as the bear was about to make contact, the man placed his hand on its head. Then using it like a springboard, he launched himself into the air. Completely dodging the charge.
"He's jumping directly over the quills! He'll be skewered!" Trey's head screamed.
The man continued soaring through the air as though gravity had no effect on him. He stared directly into the shinning brilliance of the quills. After basking in their golden glow for a second, he landed behind the bear, unscathed.
"What the hell. He's fine." Trey said. He then fell backwards, unable to stand up with his injurious. All he could do was sit there and watch the spectacle unfold.
"You see this particular bear evolved these quills long ago in defence of predators." The man spoke as though he was delivering a lecture to a crowded class room. "However, since then its size has become its most powerful asset. Now the quills seem almost counterproductive to keep. Its possible the quills were simply a random mutation. Or perhaps this bear isn't the biggest predator in the forest." He cracked his neck and stared the beast down.
"One thing is for certain; these quills are a beautiful commodity." He cracked his fingers next. "No wonder we were tasked to retrieve one."
The bear charged at him again, roaring and panting. Quills bouncing around on its back. The man once again waited for the perfect moment and vaulted over it.
"The trick with the golden-quill-bear are its projectiles. They are for all intents and purposes, a ranged weapon. Accuracy may vary, but the size and force they are released at is truly impressive."
The bear roared, irritated.
"As you may have noticed the bear is in no rush to release a single quill. Why? The quills are expensive. Not in a monetary sense—which is technically true—but in a resource sense. A spider's venom for example is very expensive to produce for the spider. This is why when a spider bites an animal in defence it must be one hundred percent certain this is the only option for its survival. In the bear's case its massive size and weight already require it to consume a critical amount of food everyday. The quills also take a chunk of that income for maintenance and growth. Replacing one of these magnificent golden quills requires time and energy. So he will only fire one if it secures his survival."
The bear's quills started to shake a little. A few lowering like missiles. It roared ravenously.
"This guy..." Trey thought.
"Alternatively, much like the spider, the quills will fire for another reason—" He said, dropping his backpack and pulling out a rope. "—if the bear can insure a kill." .
The bear charged towards the man quills now quivering. Each paw digging up dirt as the bear plowed towards the man. He wrapped the rope around one of his arms and waited patiently for the blood lusted beast to attack for a third time.
Just like before when the bear was inches away from the man, he placed his hand on the its head and vaulted over the top of its body. The bear had picked up on this pattern and fired three of its quills right as the man's body was floating over its back. But what Trey saw was almost indescribable. Not only did the man avoid the quills but he landed a crippling strike to the bears skull from above. The bear's head crashed into the dirt derailing his charge.
"He faked the vault." Trey thought. "Then he used his other hand to slip a rope around the bear's neck. Timing it perfectly, he waited for the bear to shoot the quills, then yanked on the rope to keep him from completing the vault. Using momentum in the other direction, he attacked a weak spot between the head and neck. He completely disabled it in one move."
The bear was struggling to stand up as it just received a knock out punch. Meanwhile the man waited for the discharged quills to crash back to earth. He then grabbed the closest one and tucked it under his arm, walking back into the forest.
"Wait!" Trey shouted.
The man stopped.
"If you're going to ask me how I knew all of this, I don't mind sharing. You're about to die anyway." He looked up at the sky. "I used to work in the black market. I specialized in smuggling rare animal parts. Until, one day a curiosity grew inside me. I began reading up on the beasts that these parts belonged to. I discovered they were beautiful and wondrous creatures, each one more unique than the last. I realized I was a cog in a heartless machine of cruelty. These magical creatures were being senselessly slaughtered because powerful people wanted trophies to show off to their powerful friends. This quill for example would be made into a single necklace." He walked towards Trey, the quill shimmering in the light. Creating an orange-yellow like glow around his face. "What a waste."
The man's eyes stared heartlessly into Trey's.
"Now how do I know you're going to die? As far as I'm concerned that animal is hungry and will need to replenish its strength after I took so much from it. You were a meal and I disturbed it." He lowered his face mask to reveal a vertical scar across his mouth and an unsettling smile.
"I will now give it the peace it deserves." The man turned away and began walking back into the forest.
Sweat and blood created a river of iron scented death, rolling across Trey's skin. He looked at the beast, back on its paws and lumbering towards his scent. He gulped and began trying to crawl away. Each crushing step was getting louder and closer. "This is the end. No. No please. No." He crawled desperately. He closed his eyes.
Suddenly the crack of a gun. Trey's eyes blew open.
"WAAAAAAAH!" He screamed. He felt nothing but pure terror and immediately pissed his pants.
The bear accompanied his scream with a whine. The quills of the bear shook again as it sat up, back facing the trees. Trey turned to see a wounded animal with its projectiles pointed in his direction. He rolled behind a stump and covered his head. The moaning beast launched a volley of quills in every direction. The projectiles bounced and ricocheted. The golden missiles lodged themselves into trees and dirt, creating bowling ball sized craters in anything they touched.
The bear roared. A second gunshot shot. The crack was like thunder and the bullet like lightning. It landed. A third shot. Another thump made buy the bullet embedding itself in the beast. A couple more shots peppered it. One connected with a dormant quill. It exploded into a cloud of gold dust and blood.
Trey kept holding his head for what felt like hours. When the shots stopped, he looked around cautiously, checking his surroundings for the gunman. All he found was the bear slumped over on its side, most likely dead. He heard branches breaking a few metres away from his position. Another man emerged from the trees. This one wearing camouflage, a utility belt, satchel and a rifle slung over his shoulder. He was much older than the other guy and spoke with a thick accent. A hat tied on a string was hanging off his neck. It bounced back and forth as he marched towards his kill. He bent over surveying the battlefield, ignoring the injured Trey.
"Ain't no way in hell this thing survived seven shots." The gunman stood over the bear. "Gad dang, still breathin? I thought for sure I hit your heart. I guess you ain't like the bears back home." He reached for a large knife resting in a sleeve hanging off of his belt. He re-positioned his rifle and knelt down next to the dying creature. "Don't worry, its all over now." He spoke calmly driving the knife with precision skill into its chest. The bear twitched for a moment and then... nothing.
"I don't know what that other guy was going on about, but when hunting, the fastest way to get what you want is to hunt to kill." He pulled the knife out and moved on to the bear's back. He looked for the cleanest—shiniest quill of the few that still remain. Using his knife he cut around the muscle, pulling out the quill completely intact. He wrapped it in a bag and carried it off. Before he left the clearing he stopped in front of Trey.
"You're in pretty bad shape fella. Tell you what; I'm in a generous mood. You can have one of them golden quills over there if you can walk your broken ass back to the examiner. You're running out of time pretty fast. So I'd get a move on if I were you."
"Hold on..." Trey coughed trying to get back on to his feet.
"Kid, if you ain't at the finish line in five minutes with a shinny quill under your arm and a triumphant grin on your face, I'm telling the examiner where to find you. I don't feel like knowing something else died for no reason today." He started walking away.
"Tell me who you are. Your number says '66', what's your name?" Trey yelled.
"It's Alv. You? '285'?"
"Trey." He wheezed desperately trying to stand up straight.
Alv placed the hat he had strung around his neck over his greying hair.
"I'll see you in five, Trey." Alv waved, disappearing between the trees.
—
I'd like to say that I mustered up every last ounce of my strength. That I poured it all into one last push. I'd like to say I found the nearest quill and used it as a crutch, hobbling my way back to the examiner. I'd like to say I counted every second, clinching my teeth in pain, fighting and struggling to break through the tree line. I'd like to say Alv stood next to the examiner as the sun began to set, telling him "He'll be here. That kid's tough." I'd like to say I hobbled down the dirt road to the river where the examiner and all the other successful applicants waited; quill raised over my head, smile triumphant.
I'd like to say a lot of things, but here's what actually happened.
I took two steps towards the nearest quill and collapsed. I fell on my face. Couldn't move. Those promised five minutes passed and Alv told the examiner "'285' forfeited the exam." There was only a minute to spare before she had to move on to the next phase of the exam, so she sent members of the Hunter Association's medical staff to rescue me. I think she was half tempted to just let me die, but I guess Alv convinced her.
—
Alv returned to the river presenting the examiner the quill he collected.
"Lovely. That's by far the best quill I've seen!" She exclaimed joyously.
"Miss, '285' forfeited the exam." Alv said.
"Oh? Well he knew the risks. I don't see how its you're problem—"
"He pissed his pants and is about to get eaten by that bear's mother." He pointed at the quill.
The hunter's smile dissipated. She checked her watch.
"He's lucky."
She pulled out her phone and dialed in a number.
—
That's it. That's everything. I've failed another exam. I went pretty far, but its still a failure.
That night I sat in the hospital. No visitors, no hunter association representatives, no friends. Just a shit ton of stitches, a brutal headache, my arm in a sling and some bandages. When I failed there was no official message or pamphlet. Just the same cold loneliness like last year and the year before that. As I sat in the hospital bed, half awake, looking out the window. I thought about the next phase of the exam, and each applicant who made it farther then I could. Normally this was around the time that I would immediately jump on the Hunter Association's website and reserve my place for next year, but I couldn't do it. It felt like my drive had been completely depleted. Then, the event horizon of doubt and depression reached me. The one thing I wanted to be my entire life, wasn't attainable. The stars weren't aligned. I made the wrong decisions. Everything was crashing down. As I slipped into unconsciousness the last words that echoed through my mind were "I'll never be a hunter."