The Hunt 

Melanie Ann Billings 

The woods were

deathly quiet and I held my bow at ready as I carefully watched the beast that I had spent most of my life tracking.

It all began ten summers ago, when my family first arrived at Shadowy Gulch. The rumors of a fierce beast terrorizing small farms had sent a panic throughout the little village, and all were on guard. I could recall my own fears of this "Shadow Beast," but none were as severe as the fear that gripped me upon my first glimpse of it.

The rumors had been true, and right before my eyes I watched it devour my father, mother and brother. All this I saw from my hiding place in a tiny grain cupboard. The monster left shortly after, chasing our poor cat, Tulip. I had been devastated by the loss of my family and vowed to avenge their deaths.

For nine years, I had tracked the beast. I’d followed false trails, lost the trail--several times--and now, after so much pain and heartache, there it lay beneath a young oak in peaceful slumber. I remained, concealed in the uppermost branches of an aging elm, until about midnight. The beast abruptly rose and began to stumble through the woods.

It was most hideous and made a croaking noise as it continued on its way. I followed, but unfortunately, had not gotten very far when I stepped on a rather loud twig.

The creature turned and fixed its hideous eyes on me, a bluish-green vapor emitting from its nostrils. It snarled forward, casting reddish-pink tentacles at me, which I had great difficulty in evading. Suddenly, I tripped upon a rock and as I did, a tentacle smacked me into the realm of darkness.

It must have been a good two hours later when I came to myself. I seemed to be wrapped up in some kind of slimy substance and hanging by my hair from a towering tree. Even though my head was aching profusely, I somehow kept all of my wits together. Obviously, the monster was saving me for some sort of snack.

At once, I noticed something extremely odd; the slime encasing my body was very thin. Both my arms and legs could easily move. Even with the benefit of full body movement, there was no way to rip or tear the odd encasement. Try as I might, I could not even produce the tiniest of holes.

Something sharp pierced my right heel. My dagger! Perhaps it could provide the necessary tear that would grant freedom from the slime. Because my limbs were free to move, I had no difficulty in reaching down and grasping my dagger. As I completed this action, two things happened simultaneously. The first thing was that I pulled the dagger free of my boot; then, as the metal blade touched it, the slime vanished. So there I was still hanging by my hair, dagger in hand, high in a tree. At least the blasted slime was gone!

Fortunately, I could reach the limb to which my hair was securely tied. I took little time in wrapping one arm around the branch and, using the dagger with the other, chopping through my hair. With the use of muscles previously unknown, I wearily pulled myself onto the limb. Then I saw the beast. It had been watching me the whole time.

Seated upon an enormous limb was the dreaded creature, my captor. It leapt for me and I drove my dagger deep into its single, luminescent eye. With a screech of pure anguish, the beast grappled at the dagger that was buried, hilt-deep in its eye. Without a moment's thought, I began to pick my way down the giant tree. High above, I could hear the beast still screeching, both in pain and anger.

About fifteen feet from the ground, I stopped. Standing on a single branch, I peered upward. The screeching had ceased. Hardly daring to breathe, I looked around myself in utter panic. Where was the creature?

Suddenly, a huge claw was being thrust into my face, and a familiar, pink tentacle had wrapped itself around my lower body. I looked up into a large, red, oozing eye. It had found me.

Something in the back of my mind tingled in warning; I ducked just as a giant claw smashed into the massive trunk where my head had previously been. The creature shrieked in anger and frustration; its claw had become embedded in the trunk of the tree with the force of its swing. I used this opportunity to squirm out of its grasp and clamber desperately toward the safety of the ground.

Screaming and hissing wildly, the creature came after me. Somehow it had freed itself from the tree. A quick glance answered my question. Greenish-yellow ooze dripped from the stump of arm that was left. Madness burned in its eyes.

In a frenzy, it kept coming for me. My death seemed a delicacy that it would happily die for. It lunged at me. Dropping to the ground, I cast around looking for anything that would suffice as a weapon. In shock, I noticed my dagger sticking hilt up from the ground. It must have landed there after the creature ripped it free. I dove for the hilt.

I turned to face my attacker. In no time at all, it was before me: ripping and clawing at the air in front of my face. In desperation, I swung repeatedly trying to find some vulnerable spot in its chainmail-like skin. The few hits that I delivered only served to make the creature's anger more intense. My arms were getting tired; they were drained after the numerous assaults of the beast. Even with that drawback, I kept on, fueled only by the determination of the beast's destruction.

Then I saw it, the opportunity that I had been waiting for. Striking at the eye that I had previously wounded, I would be able to put the monster's sight out of the way--for good. The timing was crucial.

I jumped, dagger arched back, ready for the kill. I was caught in midair by the creature's good claw. I could feel my lungs about to collapse as I hacked unsuccessfully on the claw stealing my life away. The beast pulled me toward its gaping maw.

No! It couldn't end this way! With my last reserve of strength, I plunged the hilt straight into the already oozing eye, all the way past the hilt. In panic of losing its life, the creature tossed me aside and grabbed at its eye. Suddenly, it stopped and fell to the ground, its body wracking in convulsions.

I only had the strength to lay where I had been thrown and watch, praying the monster was done for. The convulsions stopped. No breath or movement came from the lifeless hulk. It was dead. I wearily closed my eyes. The pain in my throat was lessening little by little. I leaned back against a small tree, slowly relaxing my breathing.

Then I heard it.

Deep from within the forest came the hungry wail of a wolf. The howl was answered by another and yet another. They seemed to be all around.

A knot found its way into my stomach. I knew I had little chance of surviving an onslaught of wolves. Tears streamed from my eyes and mingled with the rain that had started to fall. I stumbled over to the monster and freed my dagger. My quest was over.

The wolves which now inched soundlessly closer from all directions were of no worry to me. Let them come. The terrible beast was dead. Never again would it roam, freely devouring innocent creatures.

I stood a little straighter as the first wolf materialized a few feet in front of me.

       }
~~~~~ <~
       }

After four years at Roberts Wesleyan College, Melanie graduated in 1997 with a bachelor’s degree in her double major of English and Communication. Marriage and becoming a mother put her dream of being a full-time writer on hold. In order to keep up with all things written, Melanie has dabbled joyfully in freelance editing and proofreading work over the years. This dabbling has given her new excitement over the prospect of seeing her own writings published. She has the love and encouragement of her husband and two boys, and hopes to extend that love and encouragement to everyone around her. Melanie has a compilation of poetry, Climbing the Mountain: Inspirational Christian Poetry, available from Whiskey Creek Press (www.whiskeycreekpress.com) in both electronic and paperback format.