Monday 29 September 2014

The Hunter


Marcus watched the Italian tourists wander slowly across the road. It looked like they were enjoying the freedom to cross without the cacophony of horns that they would find back home. As they drew closer, Marcus could see they were one large family, three generations, all shapes and sizes. They straggled out like a herd of wildebeest with the runt at the end. In this case the runt was a teenage girl, bored, stroppy and for Marcus, prey. She had tender looks, a delicate bone structure and big, innocent eyes. Her body was childish - lithe and lean just how he liked them. He reckoned she'd come willingly. He’d flash a smile, start a conversation, promise her something better than a guided tour with the family and hey presto - she'd be separated from the herd, alone and vulnerable.
He tried to image the look of fear in her eyes and how her face would contort in panic as the realisation dawned on her that he was not just some boy looking for harmless fun. A shiver of anticipation ran down his spine as he felt the blade in his pocket, a blade that would soon be used to draw Italian blood. His brain whirred. He was planning now, where to take her, where to do they act. Thirty minutes, that’s all it would take, that’s all he needed. He didn’t have sex with them, he wasn’t sick, he wasn’t some kind of pervert. And anyway there was no need, the thrill was in the blade work.
He waited for the alpha males and the faithful females to pass before smiling at the offspring at the back of the pack. As he'd thought, his blue eyes and baby face proved irresistible. She shyly smiled back and Marcus got off the bench and trotted after her. He saw her look back over her shoulder and smile again, it was all the encouragement he needed. He was next to her now, introducing himself, telling her he understood her pain. Slowing his pace to put more distance between them and the flock. Soon he would encourage her to turn left without the herd noticing she was gone. He shivered again as she answered his questions and he clutched the knife in his right hand. The pack were merely dots in the distance now, the hard work was done.
‘Come with me’ he said and slipped the knife out of his pocket, letting her see it. He enjoyed how her face changed, not fully comprehending the situation. ‘We’re going to have some fun,’ he whispered seductively.
 She was too shocked to scream, too scared to fight, she just dumbly went in the direction Marcus was leading her. It was all too easy.

But just as he was congratulating himself he heard a roar, a primal scream, the sound of a mother protecting her young. He looked up to see that the herd had wheeled round, had come back to protect its own. He was surrounded not by a flock of rambling tourist but a pack of angry brutes determined to defend their family. Marcus had gone from being the hunter to the hunted, his eyes darted around but there was no escape. He was trapped. Game over.

6 comments:

  1. That's far from a typical Monday story:-) Alfred Hitchcock said that a good film should start with an earthquake and be followed by rising tension. Hope this story is not an earthquake starting this week :-)

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    1. I think there will be at least one story with this title this week maybe 2 maybe all 5 will have the same title

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    2. looking forward then :-) I like Hitchcock

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  2. How strange. Today's story, despite the fact it contained a lovely depiction of a summer night, first of all made me think that an injured animal will always be agressive. This thought in turn reminded me of the Hunter series. I find and open this and the protagonist's name is the same: Marcus. It may be nothing, but gives you a kind of strange feeling

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    1. Purely coincidential, it must be my baddie name.

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    2. I know it is a purely coincidental coincidence, just wanted to say that it is a strange feeling when you choose one story out of 800 and the despicable character has exactly the same name

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