Hunt

A Chapter by kelsie

(Oliver’s POV)

Nightfall came slower then he wanted it to. He has been pacing the area of his room for an hour solid. The monster inside was gnawing at him, like it was eating him from the inside out. He ripped the key from his neck and reached back to unlock his mask. The restrains popped free and he torn the terrible thing from his face. Though he came out with the compromise, the towns’ people were getting some much more out of it them him.

Oliver leaned into the ridged mirror that hung from his bedroom wall. He gave his face a once over before he focused on his eyes. His pupils were a dark, burgundy red. The laser-pointer light that shone from them was dull. Too dull. He looked to the window. The sun was a few minutes away from being gone from the horizon. Leaving Oliver free to roam the woods.

He pulled on his old converse. The bottom was hard-packed with dry mud, leaves and pine needles from countless nights of hunt, which made them perfect for walking through the woods without leaving readable tracks. Next went on his latex gloves, didn’t want to leave any traces of his being there. He hung his mask up on the wall and tugged his hood far over his head, hiding his face in the dark shadows.

Oliver crept out into the hallway and placed his ear against his parent’s bedroom wall. The slow, paced breathing indicated that his parents were both asleep. His father wasn’t catching the recaps of tonight’s hockey game, nor was his mom reading one of the romance novels she seemed to love oh, so much. Not that it mattered anyway, he could sneak out of the house without causing any noise easily.

Popping out his bedroom window and the netting material behind it, Oliver slid himself into his backyard. Although his estimate had been wrong and the sun was not fully down, it was dark enough for him to launch himself into a nearby tree without being noticed. He breathed in deep, taking in the smells his mask wouldn’t allow him. Clean cut grass, sizzling asphalt, fresh, cool air. Things his mask pushed out.

The sun finally left the horizon, and Oliver began into the woods. Jumping from tree to tree, he arrived to his clearing easily. On top of a high, yet study tree, sat a small, roughly made treehouse. Although to the eye of a norm it would look cute and innocent, but to Oliver, it was much more.

He propelled himself from a neighbouring tree straight into the small, cloth covered door. There laid, waiting for him, a pair of basketball shorts and a grey hooded sweatshirt, both stained deeply with blood. He slipped out of his current clothes and pulled on the bloody ones.

He was ready.

Oliver perched himself outside the tree fort. The dark colors of his clothing made him blend with the shaded tree. Although it was dark enough to hide him, his enhanced vision almost immediately found the couple out for a late night hike. He pulled into low crouch and pounced, a loud cry leaving his lips, not on purpose, but by instinct.

A high, squeal-like voice. A low, growly voice. And a scratchy, rough voice. All mixed together in crude, off-pitch harmony. He was the ultimate predator.

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