They usually hunted in packs, so I was surprised to find one wandering alone amongst the foliage.

I knew it hadn’t seen me, I was too good for that. I raised my rifle, gripped it tightly; I’d only have time for one shot.

They told me nobody had ever slain one before. They said it couldn’t be done, that I’d never make it back alive. But I knew better, knew I was better.

That’s when I heard the rustling to my right, and then again behind me.

I quickly realised my mistake: they didn’t usually hunt in packs. They always did.


Author: jackkholt

Film graduate. Lover of lots of good films and quite a few bad ones. Reader. Writer. Novel in progress, obviously.

12 thoughts on “Hunted”

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