The Evolution of a Hunt

This is my story and is also published elsewhere.

*****

"I'm going to give you a 10 minute head start," he said, hand cradling the carved wooden bowl of his pipe. The ember it contained flushed bright with each ceremonial puff, causing rich tendrils of tobacco smoke to drift out between each purse of the lips. He reclined in an antique lawn chair, booted foot propped casually over the opposite knee, as if it were unconcerned with the looming enterprise.

She took a deep breath, the heady aroma of vanilla and almonds flooding her senses, and she was momentarily transported by its familiarity. The memories that delicious aroma invoked were not pleasant and the juxtaposition of its sweetness, intermingled with the recalled images caused her mouth to go suddenly dry. How could he have known?

"You understand my rules," He continued, "You know your safe words." These were not questions, simply a confirmation of what he knew, but was required by protocol to verify. He said the words with such blunt assurance, that it caused a tremor to run down the length of her spine. She attempted to swallow and summon a word of understanding, but no sound came. She could only manage a nod.

"Good," he said, brightening with congenial satisfaction, and shifted the pipe to the opposite corner of his mouth. The faintest whisper of a smile grew on his parting lips and a fresh jet of smoke escaped, momentarily obscuring his harsh features. Breath quickening, she allowed herself to consider with profound horror and fascination what that mouth and hands were capable of. The vibration of excitement and fear had already begun rippling through her body, but at his words it became a surge. Nervous, she shifted weight from one foot to the other in the grass, anticipating some sign from him that it was to begin.

His eyebrows lifted suddenly in calm surprise and he allowed the stem of the pipe to fall from his lips, still suspended midair by that formidable hand. "Well?" He demanded, "What are you waiting for?" His eyes flicked, first from the luminous display of his wristwatch, then back to her face with dark amusement. "Only 8 minutes, 23 seconds left..."

As if set loose by an inaudible shot, she took off, feet pounding the cold earth with surprising force and speed. She had never been particularly fast, especially not at long distances, but now with adrenaline working its chemical witchcraft in her body, she felt light, agile, and incredibly focused. She darted around the corner of a derelict barn, hoping it would somewhat shield her from view as she crossed the open field to the south. She sprang over the fence like a deer, less graceful certainly, but fueled by the same primal instinct of a prey animal sensing danger in the wind.

She was prey and she was being hunted.

He had chosen this specific night because it fell on the full moon. The night sky was clear, pure obsidian interrupted by the solitary wisp of clouds and crystalline stars. It was so bright in fact, that the moon cast curious shadows on the uneven terrain at her feet and she could see her breath, moist and opaque, as it jetted forcibly from her lungs to meet the frigid air. She would get no benefit from the darkness tonight. She considered her available options with toned precision before settling upon the most logical strategy. Her only chance was to get across the open ground quickly, into the protection of tree cover and nestle down to hide. She wouldn't dare go far into the forest for fear of getting herself lost in unfamiliar surroundings and he, being so much faster and stronger, would have no difficulty catching up with her if she attempted to outrun him, crashing conspicuously through the trees.

As she broke the tree line, a freshly fallen carpet of leaves crunched painfully under her feet, so loud it seemed deafening against the silent landscape. She didn't have much time left, if any. In her mind's eye, she saw the illuminated face of the wristwatch, ticking away with menacing predictability. 3...2....1.... She had to hide, now. Chest aching, she pushed another 20 yards into the forest, until the dense branches of evergreen trees shielded her figure from exposing moonlight. She stopped, gasping for breath, and quickly scanned for the largest tree. She spotted it almost immediately, a large pine, nearly 3 feet in diameter, that had taken root next to a large tumble of rocks. If she sat very still, the tree would hide her from view of the north. But if he did happen to find his way around her and approach from the south, the rocks promised to provide a visual barrier, hopefully enough for her to avoid detection. Satisfied with the hiding place, she darted behind the pine tree and crouched down, making contact between earth and her hands. The grounding coolness of the forest floor brought her down slightly from the high of her run. She panted, both from exertion and apprehension, willing her breath to slow, for her inhales and exhales to return once more to their silent, effortless succession. Only then did she feel the tremulous vibrations that rippled through her limbs. Her lungs burned and were slightly constricted from gulping down the cold air.

She closed her eyes and concentrated on her breath. Inhale and hold for 4 counts.... 4....3....2....1.... Exhale slowly through the nose.... As she repeated the familiar exercise, the warm, creeping embrace of endorphins enveloped her system. It was a glorious sensation. Her blood pressure began to lower and at last, the breaths regulated into a slow, steady rhythm and the pain in her chest eased. Anticipation still rippled through her body, but she no longer felt like a rabbit with a fox hot on its heels. Eyes closed, she visualized the phantasmal silhouette of a man, striding deliberately along the path that her legs had carried her only moments before. He made no attempt to silence his steps across the milky landscape. He was an incubus, a creature of darkness whose appetite for pain and pleasure was as fundamental as her inherent need for food and water. It was only a matter of time. Whether it was exercised upon her or some other willing victim, he would satisfy his craving that night. She felt a slick, aching warmth grow between her legs, evidence that she was not only willing, but hungry for it.

A small sound in the distance, like a branch being snapped in half, hurtled her out of this sensual meditation. Her eyes darted sharply towards the direction of the noise, scanning the surrounding darkness for movement. Nothing. The forest was still, save the occasional moan of wind that stirred through the branches above her head. She was a part of that stillness, a four legged animal, hunched low in the shadows, expectant of the unseen menace that stalked her, somewhere in the moon-washed night. Then a thought, simultaneously wonderful and terrible, suddenly occurred to her. What if this was all a trick, a clever mind-game designed merely to fuck with her head? What if he wasn't actually coming to find her? What if he intended to leave her out here all night, alone in the cold, anxiously jumping out of her skin at every sound and rustle in the leaves? She knew he was capable of cruelty, he was a sadist after all, but would he? Would he violate their trust and negotiations in such a profoundly shattering way?

She remembered the moment they had met, how his eyes had explored her body with salacious indiscretion, not as a human languishes after a desired lover, but as a wolf inspects the deer it plans to attack, scanning for any weakness or malformation that could prove advantageous to the kill. He had smiled, isolating her from the pulsating cluster of voyeurs that surrounded him, but not with his mouth. He had smiled at her with those dark, slightly sunken eyes, as if to say I see you there, and proceeded to hurtle a flogger down upon the naked body that was prostrate before him, as if enraptured in adoring worship.

Fucking idiot, she thought. He was likely sitting with his feet up in front of the fire, sipping whiskey and savoring her misery. He had almost had her, the bastard. She recalled the skeptical voice of her roommate as she had left their apartment earlier that night.

"What are you doing?" She had said with protective intensity, "You barely know this guy. He could be a fucking serial killer for all you know...." Her friend continued the barrage as she made her way around the apartment, collecting the items he had instructed her to bring. Gloves, (hers were fingerless but warm, made from colorful alpaca fiber) an insulated jacket, long wool socks, a flashlight, and a cell phone with full battery... She had smiled at her friend's last comment and waved the phone dismissively before zipping it securely in her fleece-lined pocket. "What serial killer asks you to bring your phone to the murder scene?"

Her friend groaned, eyes rolling as she fired back, "And what normal, sane person invites someone out to a farm in the middle of fucking nowhere on a first date?" Her voice had softened then, as if trying a different tactic, "What am I going to tell your parents if you don't come home?"

Slightly touched by her friend's genuine concern, she looked up from where she had bent to tie her shoes, "I'll be fine... I promise," she said, "You know me, I don't take unnecessary risks."

"I know..." her friend had sighed, "That's what makes this so fucking scary. It's not like you to do something so reckless and impulsive... and for what, some random guy you happened to run into at work? He's not even that hot, you said so yourself."

Ignoring this last part, she stood up and clicked the flashlight on and off. "It's not about that," she said, pausing to find the words that would accurately capture the rush of emotions and thoughts that consumed her, "If I could explain it to you, I would... It's just something that I need to do....I..... need... to feel something. I don't expect you to understand it, just....try and be chill. I told you where I'm going," she continued cheerfully, "You've got the address just in case." She had hugged her friend warmly then, adding with a note of good humor, "If I'm not back by noon tomorrow, feel free to call the cops."

Despite the resolved optimism that she had shown, a faint murmur of guilt crept into her chest as she sped down the stairwell of her apartment complex. She had been truthful, mostly, the main discrepancy in her story being that she had not actually met him at work, but at the dungeon that she visited on occasion, when her ache for release grew more intense than she could bear. It wasn't that she was ashamed, not really. It was simply that who she was, down to the very essence of her being, was beyond the understanding of her friends, her family, and every other person she had known up to that point in her short life. Why waste her time and breath, trying to explain something that they couldn't possibly comprehend... Something she barely understood herself if she was honest.

Now, crouching alone in the woods, in the middle of the night, with a strange man hunting for her (or not as the case might very well be) she felt very stupid, and loathed herself for agreeing to this irresponsible, impossible game. She had nearly made up her mind to stand and trace her way back, when a loud, wheezing bark blasted through the silent forest. She froze, the hairs rising on her arms and neck, as if by static. The strange sound was immediately followed by a sequence of breathy snorts and crashing through the trees, West of where she knelt. It had to be an animal of some kind, a deer maybe, for what other creature in their region was large enough to make such a terrible commotion? At almost the same time, a chorus of howls and yips began to reverberate over the landscape.

Only coyotes, she breathed, forcing herself to remain calm in spite of the adrenaline surging back into her system. Not dangerous to humans, at least, not under normal circumstances. Their mournful calls echoed through the trees and seemed to come from every direction at once. The time was now. Her back ached from holding the same crouched position for so long, her fingers were numb with cold, and on top of it all she had to piss... That was, perhaps, the most uncomfortable component of her current circumstance.

Slowly, she stood, straightening her legs to a rush of unimaginable relief. She took one shuffling step away from the pine and stopped short. Something moved. At first, she couldn't tell if her eyes were playing tricks on her... Was that stealthy, gray shadow that slipped from tree to tree pure flesh and bone, or merely a ghostly apparition, summoned by her unconscious mind to plague her body with paralyzing fear? She placed one trembling hand against the tree to steady herself and stepped back into its protection. Snap. A twig cracked under her foot and she winced, holding her breath. She pressed her back against the rough bark, as if willing her body to morph into it. Her heart was beating into her head, so fucking loud. But she had to know, she had to be sure, she had to see for herself to conquer the apprehension that wracked her body with uncontrollable tremors. Gathering her strength in a final act of courageous curiosity, she twisted around so that her chest was now pressed firmly against the tree and leaned cautiously to one side to peer at her surroundings.

And there, not ten yards from her, motionless and enveloped in a shroud of misty blackness, was the rigid figure of a man. She couldn't see his face, shadowed as it was beneath the hood he wore, but as the sweet aroma of tobacco smoke registered in her senses, she knew it was truly over. He stood facing her in the moonlight with frightening stillness, nothing between them now but a vast expanse of potentiality. Finally, his hands flexed and contracted into fists.

I see you there, he seemed to say, now run.

...continued in part two.