A/N: ...Well that was longer than two months, wasn't it? DX I apologize. I'm really, really sorry. I meant to have the outline for this finished in July. That obviously didn't happen. Life decided to sneak up on me in a dark alley and beat me with a crowbar. I really hated myself for not being able to post anything over this extended, impromptu, unannounced hiatus. And even worse, my updating will be sporadic. I will not even try to predict when chapters will be finished- they're going to get up when they get up. I'll try for one every two weeks, but no promises. Blame my pointless AP Art History class and the 2 hours per night average of homework. (On the plus side, I did manage to type this up in a five-day period, so that might mean I'm over exaggerating a bit.)

Anywho, on to notes that actually relate to what I'm writing! XD So, this story is loosely based off of Richard Connell's 'The Most Dangerous Game'. There will be many similarities between them, but mine will also deviate from it in many ways to keep you readers on your toes. You don't have to read Connell's work to understand mine, though I recommend it- it's an awesome short story! Also, I'm doing things a bit differently this time around. I want to experiment a bit with third person POV, so I'm going to try staying away from first person POV. There will still probably be some first person POV stuffs here and there, but it will mostly be third. Lastly, there will be some more TechxSive stuffs in here, so enjoy those! XD

Now, on with the show! ...story...whatever.

DISCLAIMER: I don't have time to own anything!

Note: All translations are at the bottom with their respective asterisks. I apologize for my mistakes, but Google Translate isn't perfect and no one I know speaks German. XD

It was a quiet, peaceful night. Absolutely silent, save for the distant sound of water breaking on the shore. Early morning dew had gathered on the grass and leaves of the dense forest underbrush, and what moonlight managed to shine through the thick canopy of leaves above was reflected off of the larger drops to create a disco-ball like effect, the light cutting through the darkness around them. The patterns of light became erratic when a sudden gust of wind fueled by the oncoming storm in the distance caused all of the plants to dance and bend. Then, just as quickly as it came, it stopped, and everything was again still, silent. It was a truly picturesque scene.

So, naturally, it didn't last very long.

A young man came crashing through the underbrush, his clothes catching on branches and sending dew drops everywhere in a fine spray. He was closely followed by another older man. Both were running full sprint, wildly looking behind them every few yards, their eyes wide with terror.

The one in the lead put on a sudden burst of speed, pulling ahead of the older man behind him without a second thought. His legs were on fire, he felt as though he was about to collapse from exhaustion, and his lungs felt as though they were about to burst, but he had no intention of stopping to rest. Eventually, he pulled so far ahead that he couldn't hear the other man behind him anymore. He debated slowing down, letting the other man catch up, when a loud crack echoed out, the sound reverberating off of the tree trunks.

He ran faster.

He took a winding route, circling trees, crashing through the dense foliage, tumbling down hills, and practically running on water to escape his unseen adversaries. He didn't spare another thought for his comrade; the only thing going through his head was faster, faster, faster!

He circled around one more time, doubling back a bit, and then collapsed and quickly rolled under a bush, out of sight from anything higher than a few inches off the ground. He lay down on his stomach, then peered up through the bush, trying to keep his desperate gasps for breath as silent as possible. After almost five minutes of watching the still forest around him, he was finally satisfied that nothing had followed him, and he rested his head on the ground, allowing himself a few moments rest before taking off again. A simple bush wasn't near enough protection from what he was running from for any length of time.

He ended up lying there for almost fifteen minutes. His mind was racing, constantly telling him that he should get moving before he was found, but his body had other ideas. His limbs felt as though they were encased in solid cement, his heart was still racing, his lungs still aching, and his eyes were threatening to close in sleep, no matter how unwelcome the idea was. He was just about to give in, when he heard something from fairly close by that made his blood run cold and his eyes snap open.

Dogs. Lots of them- barking and howling as they caught and followed his scent. And by the sound of it, they were getting closer quickly.

With a curse, he took of faster than a striking rattlesnake, ignoring his protesting limbs and running blindly away from the sounds. He snaked his way through the undergrowth yet again, but knew that he wouldn't be able to outrun the dogs. He didn't know where a body of water was that he could run through to avoid leaving a scent everywhere he went, and didn't have the strength left to climb a tree.

After what seemed like forever, he broke through the trees, and stumbled as the foliage underfoot thinned out into sparse grass and hard-packed earth. He couldn't regain his balance in time, and fell to the ground with a strangled cry as he felt something pop in his ankle. He hugged his knee to his chest, protectively grabbing his injured ankle. He could feel that something wasn't where it was supposed to be- muscle or bone, he didn't know- and he hissed through clenched teeth as it throbbed painfully.

He spared a moment to take in his surroundings, hoping that by some strange miracle his luck would change and there would be a hiding spot within crawling distance. He was sitting in the middle of a small clearing, the thick, jungle-like forest coming to a sudden end behind him and on either side next to him. His front was a completely different story; the view was dominated by what could have been called a stunning view of the night sky, the stars and moon glowing brightly in stark contrast to the black clouds darkening the sky farther out to sea. All he saw, however, was the sudden drop off. He carefully crawled up to the edge and looked down to see the 70-or-so foot sheer drop to the ocean below. The waves, whipped up by the wind, were so large, he could feel their spray as they crashed onto the bottom of the cliff far below.

He rapidly whipped his head around as he heard the sound of howling again, only this time, it was closer than it had been before. Much closer. He probably only had a minute until they caught up to him. He knew he wouldn't be able to run anymore. He suddenly knew what a deer caught in the headlights of a car felt like.

And yet, this man was stubborn. Right then, he simply refused to be caught like he was- injured, exhausted, and scared out of his mind- be mauled by vicious dogs, and then give his captors the enjoyment of catching him. If he was going to die, and at that point, it was inevitable, he planned on doing it on his own terms.

With that thought, he used his good foot to propel himself off of the cliff just as the small pack of dogs rocketed out of the forest, intent on catching him. They all managed to stop in time before following the man over the edge, and now that they couldn't see their quarry, started sniffing around for him, and whining loudly when they found that the scent trail ended at the cliff.

Another younger man ran out of the forest, hunting rifle in hand, loudly shouting orders at the dogs. They ignored him in favor of continuing their fruitless search for the nonexistent scent trail. No matter what he tried, the dogs wouldn't listen, and he wasn't going to risk approaching them to look over the cliff for his target. The dogs would attack anything they didn't recognize as their master during a hunt, and they obviously weren't listening to him.

"Verstummen lassen! Sitzen!"* a voice suddenly yelled over the noisy dogs and frustrated man. The man jumped slightly in surprise, and the dogs immediately quieted and sat down in a line facing the newcomer as he stepped out from behind a tree and into the moonlight. He was more heavyset than his younger companion, and he, too, had a hunting rifle, though his was strapped to his back.

"How come these rats only listen to you?" the first man asked through a heavy Texan accent.

"Simple: zey only shpeak German," the second replied with an equally thick German accent. "Zey are my dogs, after all."

"I don't care if they speak Latin- just make sure they ain't gonna attack the rest of us," the Texan said indignantly as he walked up and peered over the cliff. "Ya know, it's real unsportsmanlike when they do that."

"You lost anozer vone? Vhat happened to 'Give me ze dogs- I can catch him!'" the German asked dryly.

"It ain't easy when the dogs barely listen to ya!" He stared out over the choppy waters for a moment as his German friend kneeled to look over his dogs, checking for any injuries. "Can you feel it comin' back, too?" he asked after a moment.

"Hm?"

"I talked to the others, an' it ain't just me," he continued. "We're fallin' into the same routine again. It's gettin'...boring."

Boredom- a most hated word among their small group, yet something they all experienced, and evidently, were experiencing again. It was why they were on their little island of isolation to start with. For a long while, they had managed to escape their menace, only for it to rear its ugly head yet again.

"Yes, I have noticed zat... But ve need not vorry," the German said, almost to himself as he stood up and joined his friend on the edge. The Texan cast him a questioning look. "Problems such as zis have vays of sorting zemselves out. Just give it time."

"Don't get all philosophical on me, old man. I don't have the patience to try makin' sense of it," the Texan said as he turned around and started walking away.

"I'm not zat much older zan you are," the German returned playfully. He then turned to the dogs and shouted "Kommen!"** They immediately stood up and followed in a single file line behind the German, still paying the Texan no mind.

"Yer old enough," the Texan countered as he slung his rifle over his shoulder. "Hopefully the next hunt will be better than this one."

"You are just mad zat I von. Again. …But, yes, a better hunt vould be appreciated. Like I said, ve just have to vait."

A/N: I was really happy with this when I wrote it. It was a lot less dialogue-y than I'm used to, but I still like this. I'm trying to work a bit more on description, too... Always room for improvement! The Loonatics will come in next chapter, so there won't be a long wait for that. I'm already partially done with the chapter, and I'll get it up as soon as possible!

Critiques are welcome, and reviews are all loved!

*Silence! Sit!
**Come!