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The Hunt
Why, hello there reader, my name is Kassian. I assume that this is formally published and that I am alive as you read this. Well, at least I’d hope. It was a crisp autumn morning on the Parkway and I was driving my car a tad bit too fast around the bends if I do say so myself. When you are on a road like that with all the twists and turns, it can be easy to get lost in the movement of your vehicle. You forget that straight roads exist and that there's cities and real people out there; it's so far away, and all that's around you is lush greenery beginning to turn with the weather. I was headed to a secluded cabin alone that I was borrowing from a friend so I could write.
That was my first mistake, going alone. No-one should ever go to a quiet place like that alone, unless you know the area personally, and since I did not, I was bound to have a hiccup at some point. As I thought about the cabin, I finally arrived as if I had summoned it with my thoughts. I turned off the car and collected the two duffle bags of items which I had brought with me; including clothing, stationary, and some food for the few days that I was staying there. I walked towards the sturdy, wooden door, to the entrance of the house and unlocked the heavy deadbolt, practically barreling in the door as I had to heave it open.
There was a stone fireplace straight ahead with a dark-charcoal couch in front of it, a smaller, not too old TV, and a decent sized kitchen through the door to the right. To the left, there was a wall of windows, and an outside balcony, a big staircase with a deer antler chandelier at the top of it; and I could see the bedroom doors were down the hall and open to the 2nd story balcony. It was a good medium-sized cabin, seemingly perfect for writing. I unloaded my things, neatly tucking everything away in their correct space, taking a tour of the house as I did. I set my stationary on a desk by a wall that was mostly windows and decided to take a short walk around the house to familiarize myself with a little bit of the area. As I walked around back, I got this strange feeling on the back of my neck as I saw a flock of crows quickly fly away from a nearby tree. I looked down the mountain and saw a giant mass of shadow, looming over a berry bush. I turned to lock myself inside for the next few hours and made a beeline for the door, catching the bears' attention, and as it closed it swung its head in my direction.
That was my second mistake, for those counting. No way I was going back out there for the rest of the night. I made dinner with the food I brought and settled into the couch to watch whatever I could find on the TV. Just as I settled in and relaxed, I heard wood splinter outside. I froze, still concerned about the lingering bear on the premises when I heard the sound of rock on glass. My head snapped to the wall of windows. I gingerly placed my plate on an end table beside the couch and spoke.
"Hello?" I inquired, wringing my hands with anxiety.
"Helllloo!" The television blurted, I jumped, leaving me with a racing heart and a feeling of embarrassment. I look out the window just in case, not seeing anything due to the shadows of the night settling in. I turned to sit back on the couch and continued eating and watching TV. Then I hear it again. Tink. The sound of a pebble on glass; it's the sound you remember as a secret lover at your window. In this setting however, it was not as comforting as that. I crept to the window again, peering out and looking all around. There didn't seem to be anything new other than the darkness consuming the view. I finish my dinner with caution, the window getting cold and foggy as time passes.
As I clean up dinner and start turning off lights, I hear the noise once more. Tink. I whip my head towards the window and see something glimmering in the remaining light coming from the house. I walk over to the sliding door to the outside balcony and step outside; this was mistake number three. I look at the floor and see something that would make any sane person run, hide, and lock every door. There on the wooden plank was a flaying knife. I stared at it for a good minute like an absolute idiot, before taking the knife and setting it on the counter, locking the door behind me. I finish closing up the house for the night and head upstairs, getting ready for bed. I layed down, turning on my music to help me sleep, trying not to think of the knife. I drifted off to sleep, briefly for the night I had ahead.
I jolted awake when I heard a loud bang, my heart absolutely racing. I creep downstairs, looking for the knife I placed on the counter earlier but it was missing. I second guessed myself, thinking that the knife was just a detail from a dream or story I had come up with and started looking around the house for something else to defend myself with. While looking, I felt something hit the back of my head, hard. I don't remember anything except waking up in a dark room with a shadow in the corner.
"Hello?"
"Hello there, you're finally awake. Time to start." A gruff voice spoke from the darkness.
"Start? Start what? What happened? Where-"
"Hush." They interrupted with malice hidden in their voice.
"Okay, sorry."
"It's fine, really. You've been hit very hard and you have a high probability of having a concussion that you'll need to have treated...if you make it."
"If I make it?!" I blurted out, straining against the restraints holding me in the chair.
The shadow then sighed, "Yes, if you make it. I'm going to hunt you and you're going to run. Understand?"
I nodded, unsure if they could see me in the darkness. The shadow got up and walked towards me, placing a dark cloth bag over my head and undoing my restraints with the knife from earlier. They held both my wrists as we walked, soon the sound of crunching leaves underfoot. The bag came off, the only light outside coming from the moon.
"Run."
And so I did. I ran and ran until my legs felt like they were turning to jello. I ran until my lungs started burning, then I stopped, catching my breath, becoming mistake number four. My shoulder was hit with something, a warm sensation flooding my arm. I looked down to find an arrow sticking out of my shoulder and I howled with agony as I started to cry. I began to run again then, making twists and turns to hopefully lose my attacker. I ducked behind a rock and started to sneak my way around when I fell into a hole. The back of the arrow shaft snapped off, leaving a majority still stuck in my shoulder. I look around for an exit from this hole when I hear leaves crunching above.
"Damn. Where did they go? I'm really starting to get slow at this..." I heard the shadow whisper.
I hold my breath, continuing to look around my temporary prison. I find a journal and a set of pens, and start to write. I write about the events that have recently occurred, getting dizzy and losing consciousness….
I wake up in a hospital bed with tubes and wires all over. I scan the room and realize that I'm handcuffed. I pressed the nurse call button, hoping they would know what happened. A short, sweet looking lady walked in with a police officer.
"What's going on? Why am I-"
"Handcuffed?" The police officer looks at me.
"Yes."
"Well, someone's kids found you half alive in their old cellar and immediately went to get help,” he stated as he undid the cuffs. “Another hour and you would've been dead, my good man. Do you remember anything?"
"Nothing important. Just a shadow,” I lied. “I could write down the rest for the report?"
"That will suffice I guess." the officer huffed.
I layed down and tried to relax, writing the story as it occurred, only omitting a few details.
And so here we are. I only slightly apologize for teasing you with my death at the beginning, I had to get a reader interested. You see, it wasn't just a lucky escape. I had a feeling that I knew the shadow after I was hit with the arrow. It was better to fall into a random cellar than to get hit with the eventual bear trap they had set out in the woods. I only knew this because it was my brother's favorite game. Don’t worry, I’ll get him back next time.
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I wrote this for my Creative Writing class at school, where I am a senior. I like to read/write along with other arts such as drawing, painting, and singing occasionally.