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The Hunter's Game
#WritcoStoryChallenge
The car swerved around the sharp mend giving a narrow miss to the on-coming bus. He didn't care about anything. Not anymore. The only thing that was on his mind was to get away from the sirens that were slowly enclosing on him. He needed to run away. As far as possible, from the hunter's grip or was he the hunter?
He was, yes. He remembered. It was him who was the hunter then why was he running away. What was he running away from?
Yes. It struck him. The police was chasing him because he has hunted something that was forbidden. The blood on his gloved hands, the crimson stains on white shirt, his steering wheel, it was forbidden to be spilled. Yet he did it and now he was a fugitive, a national criminal. He saw all the screens on his way with his face and name in big letters, THE MURDERER OF THE PRIME MINISTER. They were all now hunting for the greatest hunter that he had considered himself.
The sweat on his forehead threatened to blind his vision. He wiped it off with his blood stained sleeve leaving scarlet marks on his face. The sirens has gotten a little farther. He might have been successful in leaving the police behind. He knew where he gotta go but he couldn't take his car as the police would trace it. He needed to leave every of his belongings behind. Everything he had held onto for the past three years. Things that would identify him.
He alighted the car , throwing away his ID card and the card of his guarding agency. These were all the things that has given him a fake identity for years. It was time to go underground.
Leaving behind the car beneath the old bridge he made a dash for the forest. After running for a few hours he saw a dim light protruding out of an old hut.
"Good Job Rhino, taking out that terrorist." he was welcomed by a voice as he entered. "Time to get nameless." A smile appeared on his face.
The car swerved around the sharp mend giving a narrow miss to the on-coming bus. He didn't care about anything. Not anymore. The only thing that was on his mind was to get away from the sirens that were slowly enclosing on him. He needed to run away. As far as possible, from the hunter's grip or was he the hunter?
He was, yes. He remembered. It was him who was the hunter then why was he running away. What was he running away from?
Yes. It struck him. The police was chasing him because he has hunted something that was forbidden. The blood on his gloved hands, the crimson stains on white shirt, his steering wheel, it was forbidden to be spilled. Yet he did it and now he was a fugitive, a national criminal. He saw all the screens on his way with his face and name in big letters, THE MURDERER OF THE PRIME MINISTER. They were all now hunting for the greatest hunter that he had considered himself.
The sweat on his forehead threatened to blind his vision. He wiped it off with his blood stained sleeve leaving scarlet marks on his face. The sirens has gotten a little farther. He might have been successful in leaving the police behind. He knew where he gotta go but he couldn't take his car as the police would trace it. He needed to leave every of his belongings behind. Everything he had held onto for the past three years. Things that would identify him.
He alighted the car , throwing away his ID card and the card of his guarding agency. These were all the things that has given him a fake identity for years. It was time to go underground.
Leaving behind the car beneath the old bridge he made a dash for the forest. After running for a few hours he saw a dim light protruding out of an old hut.
"Good Job Rhino, taking out that terrorist." he was welcomed by a voice as he entered. "Time to get nameless." A smile appeared on his face.
