Short Story #4 Death-world Hunter

By: RanmaChan

It was so hot and humid, the air was dancing before my eyes in an almost hypnotic fashion. I shook my head to clear my mind, and perspiration dripped from my hair all around me. Slowly I crept through the jungle foliage, quietly brushing aside ferns, fronds, vines, and a whole slew of thick plant life. Each footstep of mine was silent, and placed where I would barely leave a track. Hundreds of smells came from innumerable locations, and the heat was oppressive. The humidity was so high water dripped from leaves and stems, making it seem as though it was raining.

I cursed my superiors for sending me to this world. I cursed myself for taking the training course for this type of work too. My squad and I had been sent to this Death-world as an advanced scout group for the army. My squad and two others, as well as two chimera tanks, had set down on this world a week ago, and everything had gone wrong from there. They were all gone now, corpses and burning wrecks.

We had been sent to scout out the city and the surrounding jungle, but everything had been left behind. Homes were deserted and guard posts on the walls had been abandoned, vehicles, guns, clothing, food, all left behind. There were some signs of fighting, but no bodies could be found, and that was what disturbed us the most.

The city, the other squads, and even the vehicles, had all disappeared or been destroyed. As far as I knew, I was the only one left. I was trained for this type or work, to work alone, and in these conditions. I was dealing with something cunning, stealthy, and most definitely evil. I hadn't really been trained to deal with IT.

I had been following broken twigs and plants, bent grass and shrubs, and when lucky, the occasional footprint. The creature I was hunting had to be quite large, the size of its footprints was astounding considering how very few clues it had left to its passing. I had only my carapace armor, a camo-jacket, a hotshot las-gun, and my trusty hunting knife. Who knew what this monster had, or even was.

Suddenly I heard the crunching of underbrush, and wailing cries coming from a clearing up ahead. I slowly pushed aside a few branches to get a closer view of what was making the noises. Strangely the creature looked like it belonged here on the planet, and it wasn't big enough to have destroyed a tank, or made those footprints. One of its legs was broken, and there was a huge gash along its side. However, it was feeding on one of my squad mates, so I quickly took aim with my high powered las-gun and prepared to fire.

Something caught my eye however, just as I was about to pull the trigger. There was a broken branch about a meter to my right... What if I was not the hunter, but the prey? What if the creature in the clearing was the hunters bait?

Without taking my eye from the iron sights, I slowly moved my hand to my hunting knife, and pulled it out. Quickly I turned to face behind me, jabbing forwards with both my guns bayonet, and my hunting knife. The bayonet was smashed aside and the gun flew into the jungle, but my hunting knife hit home. Fleshy armor gave away to my sharpened blade, plunging deep into my prey, almost my hunter.

A high pitched scream hit my ears and I laughed, I had bested the creature, I was the hunter here.

Or so I thought, until its pack mates ripped me to pieces.