Thursday, July 16, 2015

Storytime: Hunter



I made up this story for a school project called 'Vertel Maar' a year ago, when I was a freshman in middle school. In this project we learned how to tell stories without writing them down first or prepare it properly. They basically were like: "Hey, you, tell me a story!" I really struggled in making a good story without writing it down, since I'm more of a writer than a storyteller. But eventually I came up with a story which I'm actually pretty proud of. 

He walked out of the fourth house. 
As he walked he left a trail of blood on the outer walls. He was satisfied.
That night he had killed fourteen people - four families - which was more than usual, but that night he just felt like doing more. He wanted to go to the next town as soon as possible.
But now it was time to get back to the woods. The skies were turning into a lighter shade of blue and Wolf would probably wonder where he would be. He couldn't risk letting Wolf go look for him in this town. God knows what these awful creatures will do to him.
Because humans are the most awful creatures on this world and all they deserve is death.
Humans are awful - they deserve death.
Humans are awful - they deserve death.
Hunter repeated the same words over and over again as he set his way to the woods.

When he arrived at his spot in the thick, dark woods, Wolf greeted him the way he always did.
Two soft barks, a small sprint towards him and a jump, right at him so that he could look into his eyes. Wolf always knew what was on Hunter's mind by looking in his eyes. 
Hunter scratched him behind his ears and Wolf made a satisfied sound.
"Hey, boy," Hunter whispered softly and he smiled. He smiled his most genuine smile in the world. He couldn't remind himself enough how lucky he was to have such a loyal - non-human - friend like Wolf. Humans had only given him pain and darkness. They had only shown him how bloodthirsty and cold they were. His parents had pushed him away, because he was a "failure". The men in the camp had abused him and tried to turn him into a murdermachine and tortured him when he resisted. People he had helped had always let him down when he needed them. But it wasn't all for nothing, he knew that by now.
It was life showing him that he had to make a change - he was the one who should help the earth get rid of these awful creatures, the humans.
He had finally found a purpose.
Hunter and Wolf eventually went to bed. Hunter lay down on his improvised bed of leaves and branches and Wolf curled up next to him. Hunter told Wolf about his night.
How exciting it was, how he nearly got caught, how calm he was when he killed.
He went on and on, until he fell asleep.
...
The next morning he woke up with Wolf nowhere near him. He jumped up and looked around, his heart pounding in his chest like a wild beast.
Where could Wolf be? he thought as the panic inside him slowly rose. He couldn't be gone - he wouldn't leave him like that. He was too loyal for that, too kind.
He took a deep breath.
He pushed his almost-panic-attack away and decided to stay calm as long as Wolf hadn't gone to town. Because that would mean real trouble.
Hunter thought he might be hiding in his favorite cave, between the big, almost black trees in the middle of the woods.
Maybe he's just playing a game, yeah, that must be it.
But when he arrived at the cave, Wolf wasn't there.
He once again suppressed an upcoming panic-attack and forced himself to think clearly.
And after a moment or two he thought of another place where Wolf might be.
There was a possibility that the child soldiers, who were in the woods for three days now, might've taken him to train with. When he was one, he had always trained with animals, by killing them. It was to perfection his murder-skills.
He clenched his fists.
Those children would pay if they'd hurt him.

He arrived at the camp, armed this time with a katana. He hid in the bushes on the edge of the camp and pulled his hood over his head for extra coverage.
The child soldiers just put up a fire and the older men - guards and higher ranked soldiers - were watching them, giving them commands or laughing at them.
He knew there weren't many ways to get into the camp without causing a bloodbath and even though he wouldn't mind to kill more humans, he knew better than that.
Well, that's what he thought.
Because when he climbed up in a tree to get a better view of the whole camp, he saw a group of child soldiers standing in a circle around some white, grayish animal. The animal looked hurt and tried to let out a big, angry howl, but it wasn't much more than a squeak. 
Wolf.
Hunter didn't wait anymore. He didn't think anymore.
There was only one thought bouncing through his head: save Wolf. Save Wolf. Save Wolf.
He jumped out of his tree and ran straight towards the camp. The soldiers immediately noticed him and started yelling commands at each other. He couldn't quite understand the language, but he was pretty sure it meant "attack!" or something like that. 
And he was ready for it.
As soon as one of the guards nearly stabbed his arm, he managed to turn around in one fast movement and slash his throat. Soon after that he managed to parry another stroke, while trying to move forward, to the other side of the camp. 
Parry, slice, move. Parry, slice, move. Parry, slice, move. Move. Move. Move. Move.
He ran as fast as he could to the other side of the camp and ignored the men who were now following him. In a few minutes he reached the circle of children.
He didn't wait. He didn't think.
In the middle of the circle he saw a white greyish ball of fur on the ground. It took him a moment to realize that it was Wolf. 
He fell to his knees and turned Wolf towards him.
Pieces of his fur were ripped of his body and there were many deep cuts in his stomach.
Hunter found one of Wolf's eyes laying next to him and a small cut from where the knife had been ran over it.
O, his eyes. His beautiful, beautiful eyes.
The tears streamed down his face and he roared out of anger.
And with anger boiling in his head, he swung his katana. He didn't wait. He didn't think.
He did what he always did - he killed. He. Just. Killed.
Parry, slice, kill. Parry, slice, kill. Parry, slice, kill.
Like always, his mind turned off when he killed, his heart and mind went cold. He stabbed them in their hearts, he cut off their heads and felt nothing. Utterly nothing.
He had nearly killed half of the camp on his own, when he saw a reflection of himself in his katana. It was just a glimpse of his face, but it was enough to turn his mind back on.
For the first time he melted.
For the first time he saw the truth, crawling its way up from the darkness.
For the first time he saw his face, his real face.
He looked older than last time. And even - though he didn't want to admit it - more human than he thought. Blood stained his face and he saw the bloodthirstiness in his eyes. The melting coldness. 
He had turned cold. The truth struck him like lightning and he dropped his katana.
I just wanted to avenge Wolf's death, he thought. I just wanted to help the world, he thought. This was my mission, he thought. Life told me to do this, he thought.
But what if he had misunderstood life's order? What if he was the problem?
What would Wolf think of him, when he saw him like this? Would he think he was a hero? Or would he think he was
a murdermachine,
a human,
a bloodthirsty, cold and awful human?
A human who only deserved death?
Humans are awful - they deserve death, was what he always had said. 
But now he knew better.
"I am awful," he whispered, while slowly reaching for his katana, "I deserve death."
And as soon as those words had left his mouth, his spirit left his body.

A pretty dark story, right?
I do have to say that I was kind of suprised when I realized that I was able to create a story like this. But at that time I was inspired by the life that child soldiers led and by how people fought - don't ask me why.
I'm just that kind of a person who can be inspired by literally anything, no matter how weird it may be, haha.
Well, until the next blogpost, then! :)

Picture (without the text) from: demo.ilna-andrews.com 
I do not own the picture(s) used in this blogpost.


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