A deep crimson colored fluid made its way through the sparse growth of hairs on the dirt-covered human flesh to the random collage of mosses, Chir cones, needle-like leaves and wild flowers on the floor of the cold forest. The Pinus roxburghii swayed slowly as if fanning the sole human to the certain upcoming death. The chilly air smelled of gunpowder and old pines with a rare whiff from a decaying carcass lying nearby. A double barrel shotgun laid couple of feet away from the ceasing human body, now cold after expelling a number of shells full of smooth round lead balls some which had ended up in the spotted corpse of the unlucky prey.
The silent breaths of the young human labored as he struggled to live another day, trying to beat the death hovering before his black eyes. Events leading to the unholy moment flashed in his mind, the wrong decisions, the unluckiness, the mistakes. The loneliness hammered against his temple and the silence pierced his ears. He kept asking himself; will he see the daylight?
The hunter was a young male, capable of wonders as well as blunders of enormous proportions. Carrying his faithful weapon, he had entered his death trap sure and confident, hoping to extinguish few flames of roaring lives of the inhuman inhabitants before the sun left its playground. His masterful aim and the unwavering determination pushed him on and on as the death count increased and his luckless preys lay dead on the same ground on which he would be lying himself soon enough. Killing was ecstatic and rebelling, and the pleasure he got from it was unmatched; eternal. Then his luck ran out.
A growl and a swishing sound made his spine stiff as his senses a change in the atmosphere as well as in the stakes. The growl was unique and unforgettable, the infamous mammal. The hunter turned deliberately to look in the eyes of the animal. There was anger, and hunger, he could see that. Those fierce eyes sizing him up, looking for the weak spots, planning the attack. The hunter felt the increasing aggressiveness, automatically steeling his grip on his defense mechanism, slightly raising the shotgun, preparing for the incoming.
Everything had changed. It was not a game anymore, more like a struggle. The forest transformed into an arena, the universe became the spectator.
To Be Continued...
