huntermck-blog

[huntermck-blog]

The pain seared through his leg, the arrow sitting there- almost taunting him. Whoever shot this had one hell of a good shot, that much is clear. He couldn’t see them. Craning his neck up, grappling at the floor with his hands to try and drag himself away as much as possible, all he could see was vegetation.

One hand slowly reached down, touching over the end of the arrow. That was when he heard a voice. He glanced over at its source, a frown forming on his face. “I… don’t know what you’re talking about… I just… need to get out of here…” He grumbled, closing his hand around the shaft of the arrow. Oh god, this was going to hurt. Hopefully, he’d be lucky, and the tip wouldn’t pierce through any other skin- hopefully it’ll come out as cleanly as it went in. “What… what’s your fucking deal, anyway?” Biting down on his lip, he tugged at the arrow ever so slightly, hissing from the pain.

It was harder to wrench out than he thought. Soil caked his finger nails, and blood dripped down the side of his leg- whoever this was, wasn’t really of any concern to him anymore. As far as he was aware, he was safe until she brought out handcuffs. As far as he could see, that hadn’t happened yet. “Oh… so… you do this on a regular basis?” He asked with a hollow laugh reverberating through his words. “God, you’re… a fucking… nutjob…” he frowned a little, taking breaths between each word.

With one more deep breath, he braced himself. Holding the shaft of the arrow with both hands, Hunter gripped it and, mentally counting to three, he pulled the arrow from the side of his leg, swearing in the process. The bleeding continued, soaking his pant leg and making him feel a little light-headed; it was always surprising when Hunter ended up a killer. Sure, he had his own methods, but blood was one thing he never enjoyed seeing. Unfortunately it was around more than he wanted. He swore again, rolling his pant leg up as much as it would go. “Okay… it’s… it’s official, you’re crazy.”

A Shot in the Dark || Hunter & Val

[huntermck-blog]

A Shot in the Dark || Hunter & Val

Quick, exasperated breaths escaped his lips as he ran. Feet thumped against the ground, faster and faster. He couldn’t stay here much longer. They were after him. Who were they? Everyone. The law. He was running from the law. It seemed not long ago that he was suited in orange, body convulsing in the back of a heavily-metalled cage of a white van. He could still feel the adverse effects of the drug- every so often he’d trip, dragging one foot along the floor involuntarily. Quickly, however, he regained control. If he focussed. He could hear the beat of his heart thumping in his ears, a stitch burning through his lungs, a slicing pain which laboured him completely. He couldn’t get caught. He’d made a promise to himself long ago: he would never go to prison. It wasn’t an option. It would never be an option.

Hunter had little to lose. He was not loved by any. At all. He was alone. His job had raked in little money—definitely not enough to outrun the cops and then start a life of his own, outside of America. It was impossible. Maybe the seizures should’ve killed him. Maybe he should’ve administered more of the drug- allowed it to take over quicker. Then he’d be alright. He’d have nothing to lose.

Willing his feet to move faster, his fists clenched into balls as he found the nearest cover: the forest. Of course! It was perfect. Nobody would see him- he’d be invisible. Except the sound. Twigs would snap, leaves would scrunch. All he needed to do was get deep enough, then he could stop running. He stumbled, and, at first, he believed it was still a side effect of the drug. However, as the throbbing pain left a trail of red licking at the side of his pants, it wasn’t that simple. He fell, cursing loudly.

He had to be quiet. Biting down on his lower lip, Hunter used his other leg to try and push him up, grappling at the floor with his hands. There was an arrow in his leg. Fucking fantastic- who were the police employing now?! Fucking game shooters?! He whimpered to himself, the sight of blood making him slightly queasy.

[huntermck-blog]

[huntermck-blog]

this is gospel for the vagabonds, ne'er-do-wells and insufferable bastards...