The "Creative Writing" forum, which includes Retro Game Reviews, has been archived and is now read-only. You cannot post here or create a new thread or review on this forum.
Back and forth the blade flicked, glinting in the shimmering Sun. The Autumn light cast dappled shadows onto the ground.
The Hunter stalked his way through this familiar territory, ever watchful, knowing that he could become the hunted and any moment. He stalked his prey relentlessly through the pounding heat of the Indian Sun.
He stopped and stooped to examine a track, still he went on, through barren wastelands, across mountain passes and under grand forest canopies high above his head, teeming with life.
It was in this forest that the hunter stopped to mop his brow. He made a quick mental calculation, 2 bottles of water, 30 miles from the nearest town and his only chance of any medical facilities. Should he go on ? Yes. He mused about what he could do with the £10 000 reward for hunting this creature.
A rustle in the undergrowth caused him to whirl round and glimpse his prey, orange fur smoothly merging back into the shrubbery. The hunter looked back at where the beast had vanished, his gaze met by two large, saucer-shaped yellow spheres of light.
They weren't so different, both alert, both avout to be pitted against each other for their lives. Why did someone want this majestic creature dead ? It's orange fur stood on end as it tingled with anticipation, drawn-up like a house cat.
The hunters' nape prickled, beads of sweat etched out smooth lines in the sweat mingled dirt caking the man's face. His fingers twitched on the butt of his pistol, he made a decision, if he were to fight this animal it would be on its terms
Knife drawn he edged towards the creatures' position. Its eyes glinted, ever watchful, ever ready. He steeled himself and tightened his grip on the reassuring hilt
Without warning the Tiger leapt, paws outsretched, teeth drawn back. Had he had time to gaze the hunter would have marvelled at the orange stripes perfectly camouflaging with the Jungle's interior. As it was he sidestepped neatly and lunged ...
... The blade found its mark and lodged itself into the beasts' jaw. Warm blood spurted onto the floor and blood trickled down the hilt. The hunter withdrew the kinfe and the Tiger gave one last resounding roar. He looked down into its humbled eyes, yet no forlorn expressions were shown, still the same passion and strength. Was this job truly in the style of his beliefs? The hunter stopped a while to ponder and sat exhausted by the once majestic beasts' carcass.
The hunter pondered his future as his stared up into the light midday sky, boring the heat and light from the Sun into the canopy far above his head. The leaves cast mottled shades across his sweat drenched brow. Howler monkeys screeched by overhead and the Jungle continued on as before.
The Tiger lay slain, forgotten
The Hunter stalked his way through this familiar territory, ever watchful, knowing that he could become the hunted and any moment. He stalked his prey relentlessly through the pounding heat of the Indian Sun.
He stopped and stooped to examine a track, still he went on, through barren wastelands, across mountain passes and under grand forest canopies high above his head, teeming with life.
It was in this forest that the hunter stopped to mop his brow. He made a quick mental calculation, 2 bottles of water, 30 miles from the nearest town and his only chance of any medical facilities. Should he go on ? Yes. He mused about what he could do with the £10 000 reward for hunting this creature.
A rustle in the undergrowth caused him to whirl round and glimpse his prey, orange fur smoothly merging back into the shrubbery. The hunter looked back at where the beast had vanished, his gaze met by two large, saucer-shaped yellow spheres of light.
They weren't so different, both alert, both avout to be pitted against each other for their lives. Why did someone want this majestic creature dead ? It's orange fur stood on end as it tingled with anticipation, drawn-up like a house cat.
The hunters' nape prickled, beads of sweat etched out smooth lines in the sweat mingled dirt caking the man's face. His fingers twitched on the butt of his pistol, he made a decision, if he were to fight this animal it would be on its terms
Knife drawn he edged towards the creatures' position. Its eyes glinted, ever watchful, ever ready. He steeled himself and tightened his grip on the reassuring hilt
Without warning the Tiger leapt, paws outsretched, teeth drawn back. Had he had time to gaze the hunter would have marvelled at the orange stripes perfectly camouflaging with the Jungle's interior. As it was he sidestepped neatly and lunged ...
... The blade found its mark and lodged itself into the beasts' jaw. Warm blood spurted onto the floor and blood trickled down the hilt. The hunter withdrew the kinfe and the Tiger gave one last resounding roar. He looked down into its humbled eyes, yet no forlorn expressions were shown, still the same passion and strength. Was this job truly in the style of his beliefs? The hunter stopped a while to ponder and sat exhausted by the once majestic beasts' carcass.
The hunter pondered his future as his stared up into the light midday sky, boring the heat and light from the Sun into the canopy far above his head. The leaves cast mottled shades across his sweat drenched brow. Howler monkeys screeched by overhead and the Jungle continued on as before.
The Tiger lay slain, forgotten
Page:
> Had he had time to gaze the hunter would have marvelled at the orange
> stripes perfectly camouflaging with the Jungle's interior.
A major problem of reading these stories late is that there really is nothing to add to what has been said, except
.. I'd have liked a better description of the unusual orange jungle :)
> stripes perfectly camouflaging with the Jungle's interior.
A major problem of reading these stories late is that there really is nothing to add to what has been said, except
.. I'd have liked a better description of the unusual orange jungle :)
I wrote the story without prior planning or drafting so next time I may try a draught and then add some more depth
The Jungle wasn't orange, Tigers stripes blend in with long grass and also in the dark undergrowth, the black at intervals camoflagues them
Silly
The Jungle wasn't orange, Tigers stripes blend in with long grass and also in the dark undergrowth, the black at intervals camoflagues them
Silly
Page: