Friday, February 15, 2013

Flash Fiction Friday




The Hunted
By Donna L Martin


The snow felt cold under his paws, not exactly chilling his skin, but caking between his claws and sticking to his fur. He didn't really mind the snow.  In fact, he preferred it.  It allowed him to blend in with his surroundings.  That was his advantage in the woods, that ability to become unseen until it was too late.  Even his eyes were as cold as the air around him.  Icy blue like the cold-blooded hunter he was.

Sasha rose to his feet, shuddering to send snowflakes flying from his back to settle into the indention left in the snow. Ears tilted forward, he sniffed the air for the scent again.  It was closer now and his heart beat in rhythm to the footsteps he sensed heading in his direction.  He had smelled that scent before, had even seen the human from a distance.  It was years ago, but Sasha never forgot the cold black eyes staring at him from behind the gun.  He was lucky that time.  He managed to get away.  This time would be different.  This time he was ready.  Ready for the age-old dance between the hunter and the hunted.  

***Now it's your turn.  What happens next?  Will Sasha meet his fate head on or will he fade into the forest and hide? Join in the fun with a sentence or a paragraph.  You don't have to run with my flash fiction...if someone else comments and you want to add to their story, then go for it.  Let's see where this picture prompt takes us!***

12 comments:

  1. I say if you kill it, you gotta eat it. Otherwise, I'm on Sasha's side.

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    1. Hi Janet! Does that include roadkill? Lol...

      Thanks for stopping by and come back any time!

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  2. Not feeling creative but stopped in to see what others posted. Not much, yet...

    Love the piece. :)

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    1. Hi Clare! You don't have to add to the story in order to be able to comment...;~)



      Thanks for stopping by and come back any time!

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  3. Hunter or hunted? In the wilderness the line between can quickly blur. This is Sasha's home territory and the overweight businessman was showing a distinct lack of respect. Even without the glandular secretions, the cigar smoke betrayed the man's whereabouts long before Sasha saw him. The blase attitude of the man was as arrogant as it was foolish. What did he have to fear toting his high-powered rifle? His last shot had nicked the majestic beast a year before, and was just a fraction away from adding to his rapidly filling 'trophy' room.

    The man stumbled over the difficult terrain, his breathing laboured. Such was his effort, the man neglected to survey his current surroundings. It is unlikely he would have seen Sasha who crouched in anticipation, so well did the mighty beast blend into the surroundings. Too late the man saw Sasha as the tiger sprang twenty feet in a single bound. The hunter turned prey swung his rifle unleasing a shot. A parting shot!

    Sasha's jaws closed around the man's throat. A grizzly gurgle was the only sound as the life-blood drained from the man and stained the snow crimson. The spirits haunting the macabre trophy room could now rest easy, each beast satisfied the 'sport' had run its course. Sasha would eat well tonight.

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    1. Hi JP! I'm so glad you took a crack at my flash fiction piece. I envisioned a number of different outcomes...yours being one of them...but i quite like how you handled it, especially when you talked about the trophy room spirits finding peace at last...;~)

      Thanks for stopping by and come back any time!

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    2. Something strange has happened in contributing to your Flash Fiction posts. I never thought myself capable of writing fiction and to be honest as I find writing a chore (mostly) it is not something I considered. I have begun to revise my opinion and have something in mind which I might dabble with.

      The problem with non-fiction (or fact based fiction) is the emotional roller-coaster as good and bad memories jostle for position. Flash Fiction has shown me writing can actually be quite uplifting. Damn!

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  4. JP, I said if you kill it, you gotta eat it. So glad the tiger is complying.

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    1. I felt I had to do something Janet. I am quite capable of killing animals (as you may have read) but only for food and 'big game hunters' disgust me. The only exceptions where my compulsion to kill goes into overdrive are wasps and flies.

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    2. Hi JP! When I was much younger, Janet and I helped our mother cut down some bamboo in our back yard. Unfortunately for me, no one checked to see the hornet's nest until we stirred them up and I ended up getting stung multiple times on my head. I would probably go nuts if any started flying around my head today...;~)

      Thanks for stopping by and come back any time!

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  5. Excellent piece Donna and JP brought it full circle. Great read!

    I remember once being in a trophy room of one of the 'Hilton's' (a high school girlfriend was related). Don't mean to name drop, anyway, it was full of trophy's, animals of all sorts, and the owner bragged of all his conquests. The worst for me though, were the stools or tables made from elephants feet. This room was imposing and I couldn't wait to leave. 'spirits' were very much haunting it! Reading the story, I pictured him. The girlfriend and I lost touch, but I've never forgotten that horrible room!

    Thanks Donna, love your blogs!

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    1. Hi Yolanda! Thanks you for your kind words...I'm so glad you enjoy the posts...I try to make them informative, and entertaining. I don't think I would have enjoyed being in that room either!

      Thanks for stopping by and come back any time!

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