*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1269839-Unintentional-Desires
Printer Friendly Page Tell A Friend
No ratings.
Rated: ASR · Fiction · Fantasy · #1269839
About the runnings with a hunter and an old friend.
A Weird Dream – May 31, 07

Okay, first off the setting is on the Eve of New Years. It is already dark, around 11 something. Snow is falling outside and everyone is waiting in their trucks or just standing around watching the sky for the New Years Bells.

A Cold Night

I was leaning against the outside of my small shack, watching the snow fall lazily to the ground. My friends were all bickering near the truck about what their New Year’s resolution was going to be. I snuff the smoke I had used up and flicked the remains away. A few months ago I had taken up smoking. The stress wasn’t going away when I drank like it used to.

“So, Fox?”
I looked up slowly to see Owl, Ed, and Myu all smiling at me. I knew they were all worried tonight. Something in the air just didn’t smell right to them. It’s a shame I lost my sense of smell years ago.
“What?”
“What’s your New Year’s resolution?” They all stared at me like I had the secret to eternal life or something. I shrugged.
“I don’t know.”
My usual answer dragged moans from my pack. Owl spoke up trotting closer to me.
“Okay, okay! You’ve been all mopey ever since you graduated High School. What’s up?” She of all people should know.
“Foxy, is something wrong?” Sniffles from Ed and Myu traveled to my ears and I flattened them against my head. I looked to the side.
“Nothing’s wrong. I just haven’t come up with a resolution yet.”
“Well you better hurry up.” Owl rested her hands on her hips. “There’s only an hour left till New Years.”

What’s the big deal? A new beginning of a new year. To me, everything was the same. It was like a horse race; only going in circles. I hated New Years. I remember the time where I couldn’t wait for New Years. I gathered all my friends, go to a house, and party all night long until the bells rang for the New Year. But lately I haven’t been in a partying mood.

Things went downhill ever since High School. I was no longer a ‘kid’ and the Hunters took full force on that. I lost my house and family to an arson attack. My truck has no windows, no radio, and no brakes. I live way out in the country in a small shack in the middle of nowhere. And the only time I saw other people was when my friends would visit me.
Being what I was, jobs were hard to find so I tried making money illegally. It worked out for a while till someone ratted and the hit was a bust. There are now warrants for my arrest in three counties. Not to mention I’m number 12 on any hunter’s radar. This wasn’t what I was thinking for my life after school.
I went inside the shed to warm my hands up against the wood stove and grabbed a drink from the small fridgerator Ed had given to me. They all help to make this place livable. Sure, they offered for me to stay at their places. But I didn’t want another fire to happen.
They seemed to understand it was for the best.
I was about to pop open a drink until my ears stood on end. I heard a motor rev up near the house.
I put my beer on the counter and peered outside the window. A motorcycle had parked itself nice and neat across from my deadbeat truck. A person wearing a helmet stood up from its ride and walked casually closer.

Upon experience you begin to recognize hunters by just how they dress. All black with shiny silver tips on everything. My friends could take care of themselves so I ducked inside a closet and listened intently.

On the outside, Owl, Ed, and Myu blocked the entrance to my house. The biker pulled off his helmet and scanned the poor excuse for a home. Owl and Ed’s glares narrowed even more.
“I knew wolves liked dark, smelly places but this is ridiculous.” Myu’s ears went up and she looked up at Ed and Owl. She mouthed ‘How does he know?’ to them but they were all keeping their eyes on him. Myu was too new to know who he was.
“What do you want, hunter?” Owl asked with a scowl.
The hunter reached into his pocket and Myu hissed a threat. Ed and Owl did nothing because they smelled no gunpowder in his pocket. With a gloved hand he pulled out a small camera.
“A picture.”
“Of Fox?” Ed asked suspiciously. “Don’t you have plenty of those back at your place?”
“And enough in the newspapers to drown your fetish?” Owl added. Myu made a disgusted face, catching only bits and pieces of information about this guy.
“Creepy.”
The hunter shook his head, black hair followed his movements, and he took a few steps back. He prepared to take a picture of the three and all three of them hailed him with high middle fingers. The snap button was pressed and all three fell to the ground, unconcious. The hunter placed the camera back into his pocket and stepped inside.

It was only now that I had begun to hate my house. The closet was so close to the front door that if you turned you could smell the food inside. I watched between small cracks that the hunter had entered my house. I could barely make out who it was although I could smell the musky cologne he was wearing.
I clasped my hands over my mouth to shut my howler. It was him. And he had only taken one step in before facing the closet.
I pulled the hoodie over my head to avert my eyes from ever seeing his face and I crossed my arms.
“Come out.”
He always had a way with words. Keeping my head down I opened the closet doors and leaned against the shelves.
“What are you doing here?”
He said nothing, which was highly unusual. He was more of the ‘Can’t stop explaining my plans to destroy you’ kind of person. Instead he reached into another pocket and pulled out a game controller. It looked like something from a Nintendo 64.
The hunter held it out to me knowing I would snatch it from his hand. It was purple and a little burnt around the edges. It took me only seconds to realize that it was from my house. It was the controller my parents bought for me with the game station.
Without any words or sounds I clutched the thing in a death grip. I could hear the plastic crack. I wrapped my hands in the power cord and jerked it out of the controller. I ripped the joystick out of the pulley and crack the thing in half before throwing it to the floor.

This wasn’t the usual visit and I pushed my way passed him and into my room. If you could call it that. In the dark it was a stairwell that went up and down. Clothes and stuff buried the floor. The stairs went up into the darkness and the stairs that went down went… Nowhere. The stairs were cut off and you could see the snow blowing around outside. I sat near the railing and huddled myself in my sweater.
I could hear him not far behind. He walked in, looked around the pitiful place, and then chose to sit across from me on the window sill covered in garbage bags. The window was broken when I got here.

He pulled out a small game system this time. But this one wasn’t mine. It was an old game boy advanced. I hadn’t seen one of those since high school. He handed it to me and I proceeded to kill it.
I punctured the screen with my thumb, ripped the screen and button panel apart, before throwing it down the stairs outside. This happened a few more times when he kept producing more things from either my house or his. When I saw something that was mine it made me remember what had happened with the fire. Then when I saw something of his I hated it so much more.

I felt like crying. I’m pretty sure that’s what he wanted so I kept my head down on my knees and held it in. I was getting pretty good at holding stuff in. Then I heard faint thumps on the floor. I looked up a little to see soda cans. Pepsi, Dr. Pepper, Mountain Dew, and a Sprite. I wanted to look at him with a ‘WTF?!’ on the tip of my tongue. But I had so many questions. Where did he get the game controllers? Did he set my house on fire? Why was he here? But I didn’t voice one.

I grabbed a can and lifted my hoodie back. I had my natural black hair down to my shoulders. I didn’t want to cut it anymore and when you live off of rats, money for hair color gets pretty tight.
I hesitated with the cool can in my palms. I was dying of thirst but I hated pity from people. Especially his. He probably felt my discomfort so he grabbed the Dr. Pepper, opened the top, and took a long drink from the container. He did it as if we were old friends just chilling out on New Years.
He stopped and watched me and it made me shift uncomfortably. This was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done but for once I didn’t really care. I’ve lost everything, why not my pride?
Finally, I bit into the side of the can. My fingers too cold to open the lid. No Pepsi spilled from my lips as I drank the delicious caffeine. Drinking only water and beer loses its edge after a year or so. It was so delicious against a dry, parched throat.
I bit into it deeper and bowed my head to catch every drop. It was then that I was startled to feel a hand on my head. I knew it was his. But I couldn’t do anything to stop it. I was too engorged by the drink to even move.

He moved his fingers softly against my hair and ears and I could feel the pent up emotion inside me finally slipping. He had this planned, I bet you. I would give everything I owned to bet anyone that he had this whole thing planned out. The stuff, the soda, New Years. Damn him! But it was me who couldn’t do anything.
The can was empty finally and I had nothing to bite anymore. I held onto the can with a vice grip and touched my forehead to the floor, tears dripping from my eyes. I felt myself shake and tremble with silent tears and screams. And I hated every minute of it.

But. It was as if a heavy weight had been lifted from my shoulders. Like I could breathe more easily. My mortal enemy seeing me at my weakest. And I felt better. I should have felt ashamed! Beaten once again by him and his stupid superiority complex. But in the end, I just felt better.
I stopped crying and wiped my face with the sleeves of my sweatshirt, never looking up at him. When I stopped he stood up and left. I didn’t care. It was deftly hot but the cool winds from outside felt relieving to my face. I sighed in the dark.

But then they were back. The footsteps of the hunter. He took long steps into the house and stopped right behind me. But the room felt more crowded than last time. And that’s when I felt the cold steel against the back of my neck. I shivered and he took aim at the base of my skull.
I wanted to turn and look up at him. To see if he was smiling. But I couldn’t move. Even if I wanted to I couldn’t. Even after all these years, he knew I couldn’t resist a Pepsi. So he laced it with a sedative. Smart bastard.
But in my own mind I knew I wouldn’t have turned around anyways. It would have been unfair. To look up at him with weary eyes and a pitiful disposition. He would have probably stopped himself like he had done before. But this time was different.

“What is your New Year’s wish?” he asked me in the cold silence. The New Years’ bells gonging in the background. The question was sudden but I knew the answer to it all along.
“To be free and happy,” was my silent whisper as I stared at the junk at my feet.
“I always keep my promise.” And the hammer to the gun was pulled back and the sound of a shot being fired rang out into the cold night of nowhere.


((This was actually my dream. Weird as Hell I’ll tell you. It was slightly different. In my dream no one was talking. It just looked like they were talking. So I just added the words. And I know some of you are going to comment, like, “Well that’s stupid.” Or “That would never happen.” “Why is it so corny?”
WTF, people?! It was a fricken’ dream that I had no control over. Although I have to admit, it was a pretty damn good dream.))
© Copyright 2007 Your_Lycan (your_lycan at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Log in to Leave Feedback
Username:
Password: <Show>
Not a Member?
Signup right now, for free!
All accounts include:
*Bullet* FREE Email @Writing.Com!
*Bullet* FREE Portfolio Services!
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1269839-Unintentional-Desires