The Hunter In The Forest - I

Location: Earth – Unknown

He had been alive for four days. At least, that was what his Ghost told him. He remembered nothing before those four days.

No family. No home. Not even a name.

But he knew how to survive. He knew how to follow tracks through mud without leaving his own. How to move through the undergrowth without disturbing a branch. How to find water. Dress a wound. How to kill. His Ghost couldn't explain it. Neither could he.

Green and brown cloth covered his armor. Mud darkened the plates beneath. Leaves and branches broke apart his silhouette among the trees. "Camouflage," his Ghost had called it. The word felt familiar. So did the knife in his hand.

By dusk, he had found food. He crouched beside a small fire, turning the day's hunt over the flames.

His Ghost floated nearby. "You know, I've been thinking."

"That's dangerous."

His Ghost chirped indignantly.

The man smiled.

Then –

A branch snapped beyond the firelight.

His hand found the knife before thought could catch up.

"Movement," his Ghost warned.

He kicked dirt across the flames.

Too late.

Four blue eyes appeared between the trees.

Then another four.

Then another.

The forest erupted.

Previous: The Invitation · Ghost Stories · Next: Fresh Beginnings