Hunter Hunted

Everything was ready for the trip. My friends and I were so excited about it that we forgot to bring lanterns! Anyway, the trip started last Friday. It was a hell of a weekend but on Sunday night we drunk a few beers and rum and we decided to go inside the cave. The moon was full so we could see pretty well. Without carrying lanterns and only with a couple of matches in our pockets we made some torches with dry sticks and paper. It was a creepy adventure because we didn’t know what was going to be ahead.

Monday morning.

The last memories in my head are spinning; I was at the mountains. My friends and I were in a cave. I open my eyes. I’m in my room. What happened? I can’t remember beyond that.

Tuesday night.

I’m at a party near my house. My friends are still talking about last weekend. It was crazy! I even past out because of how drunk I was!

All of a sudden the drink that I’m having tastes bitterer than before. What is? It doesn’t matter. I leave the glass on the table and go out for some fresh air. Outside I can see a couple been robbed by two assholes. The kind of assholes called “flaites”. (According to Chilean people) These stupid human beings are thieves and robbers who think they’re cool but they are the lowest of the low in this society. They annoy me!

Anyway, as I see them rob this couple, a strange feeling of killing them crawls insides me. I never felt this before. This killing instinct doesn’t belong to me. What the fuck is going on? I start walking towards them and when I reached them my hand grab one of these flaytes by the neck and throw him far away. The other one receives a kick in the chest from me and leaves him breathless. The couple says thanks as they go.

Nobody else saw this incredible scene. I can’t believe it yet. Where this rage does came from? No idea. But when I walked towards the house again something stopped me. Black out.

Wednesday morning.

Here I lie, on a green grass. My shirt is covered with blood. Is it mine? No, is not. What happened? Not again.

At Night.

The strange feeling again. No flaites around. I’m alone. Why do I feel this rage? All of a sudden isn’t me anymore. Now I realize. I become in something more. I need blood, a lot. I’m a blood hunter. But not only that, this rage compels me to kill flaites. Is ok with me, I always wanted to seek vengeance for my beaten friends. Now at nights I hunt them and kick them to the point that they can’t ask for mercy. I drink they blood, but I can’t leave them alive, no. They beg for their lives before I took their heads off.

I hunt for their blood as they hunt for money and weak people. Justice? I don’t believe in that. God? Is he here for you guys? I don’t think so.