The Hunter

The Hunter silently eased himself into position. He was waiting for his prey to pass by. He checked his weapons; his gun and knives. The prey he was hunting was dangerous, they were intelligent and could fight back, especially if they were not killed swiftly and discovered his presence. They could work in groups and find ways to get past even his defense. They were one of the most dangerous prey that the hunters hunted. A number of hunters had been killed or severely wounded for being careless on these hunts. But they still went, for the thrill, for the prestige, for the trophies, even for the flesh. He himself was not partial to their meat, though he had eaten it before. He felt that prey who were so intelligent should be considered near equals and not eaten.

A snap in the brush caught his attention. The Hunter checked his camouflage and brought his gun up. He began to squeeze the trigger when a female walked out of the undergrowth. The Hunter relaxed, it was not right to hunt the females. They bore the children for the next generation and rarely put up a good fight, that is, unless their young were involved. But he could not relax much. The males were never very far if a female was around. The female turned and called into the undergrowth. This time a male walked out. The Hunter examined it critically. It was not full grown yet. It still had not produced the growths of hair that signified adulthood. He also was not with the males; the female was probably his mother. As time passed more females and young passed by, he began to feel frustrated. Suddenly, four more prey stepped into the clearing. There! Adult males! He aimed the gun at the first male's chest and squeezed the trigger. A crack and a flash of light exploded from the gun! The male was falling, bleeding in one quick instant. The Hunter fired again at the second before dropping out of the tree and drawing his knives. The remaining males saw him and bared their weapons. They charged, bellowing at the Hunter and tried to wound him. The Hunter chuckled remorselessly as their weapons glanced harmlessly off his armor. He slashed out with both hands and impaled one between them. It screamed and thrashed. The other drew close and jabbed at the Hunter's belly. The primitive weapon drew blood despite that. The other found his hand neatly severed from his arm. It gasped and staggered back, crimson jets arcing around him. The Hunter laughed again and cut the prey across the chest. It stared at its own ruined heart and collapsed. The remaining prey was dragging itself away towards the female's direction, but the Hunter simply walked over and stabbed it in the back. Still grinning, he began to collect his trophies.

After they were set aside, he got to work skinning the carcasses. Hot viscera splattered the ground as he accidentally cut too deeply. He wrinkled his nose at the stench. The Hunter finished skinning and kicked the glistening pile to the side, unflinching as blood splashed his foot and legs. Blood didn't bother him. Even his own blood didn't, only one type of prey's blood bothered him. Quickly and efficiently, he finished the remaining three bodies with the ease of practice. Then he strung them up in a tree at the edge of the clearing. By the time he left the carcasses, insects were already gathering on them.

He climbed a new tree and sat down on a large branch. Then he began to clean and polish the trophies. He gently ran his hand over the swelling white dome, how he loved this particular prey! He laced the four new trophies with several older ones and leaned back comfortably on the branch. For a while he listened to the smaller animals calling around him. The Hunter would have liked to stay longer, but this was the last day of the hunt. He should call for his ride soon, now, in fact. Bringing up his wrist computer, he punched in the code. He could catch a quick nap before the ride arrived. Sighing softly, he shut his eyes and relaxed.

About an hour later, an insistent beeping emanated from his helmet to wake him. He sat up and stretched, cracking his knuckles and spine. The Hunter gathered up his possessions, trophies and weapons and jumped out of the tree. It was only a short walk to the clearing where his ride waited. A figure was leaning against the door, he didn't move until the Hunter was right in front of him. The newcomer extended an arm, gripped the Hunter's shoulder firmly and shook gently. The Hunter returned the gesture. The two started into the ship. "Good hunting, Guan-Thwei?" "It was alright. The Oomans did not put up as much of a fight as last time. Perhaps I will try a different area next time." "Pity. Next season I will take to a city."

You like? I just wrote this today, in Social. If this was on a different site, the ending would have been more surprising, but meh, what are you going to do? Please tell me what you think, tell me your thoughts as you read this.

I own nothing but the personality of Guan-Thwei.