Hunter Or Hunted? Kübra
In memory of my dog Demi. May she rest in peace.
Another Hunter or Hunted story! Yay!
Kübra is my character.
As soon as I regain consciousness I leap up and open my eyes. I sense about four or five other furs and a lot of humans. I assumed that they were all armed. I hear a rifle fire in the distance and leap up into a tree. As I climbed up I knocked some snow off a branch and it made a soft *whump* as it lands on the ground.
"Over there!" A voice said.
Three men ran to where I was hiding in the tree. One of them had a 10 foot bullwhip and a Chinese thirteen piece chain whip. The other two had rifles. But I mean, whips?!? I had been alive twenty one years before I became nonexistent and hadn't seen a whip once. And now sixty years later I see two. I shift nervously on the branch. I knock some snow off and before it had time to fall a foot, my hand shot out into it and created a localised time stop. In other words I froze the snow in mid air. I then decided to try to return the snow to a form when it was steam but instead of becoming steam it became a solid chunk of ice with my hand inside. Bugger! My hand shot down and smacked into one of the rifle guys heads with a sickening *thunk*. Fortunately the other two were looking away as the rifle guy slumped to the ground. I quickly pulled my hand back up and lay perfectly still.
"Dave!" The whip guy exclaimed when he saw Dave doing a face plant in the snow. My hand was getting painfully cold now and I was getting ready to turn it back into snow when suddenly I heard what I thought was the deep boom of a shotgun.
"What was that? I thought we were the only group out here." Mister Whippy said.
"So did I mate, so did I." The rifle guy said.
I turned the ice back into snow and the rifle guy saw it falling from the tree. He shot at me and just missed my head. I jump down and immediately receive a lashing from the chain whip right above my left eyebrow. The wound then decides to bleed and colours the left side of my face in red. The rifle guy then takes a shot at me and puts a hole through both of my ears. I grab Dave's rifle and shoot the other rifle guy in the chest. I then receive a very painful lashing from the bullwhip over my right shoulder.
"You son of a-" I begin and Mister Whippy demonstrates his skill by wrenching the rifle out of my hands with the chain whip and performing five cracks in one second with the bullwhip.
There was nothing left to do so I turn and run. And I wonder: How will I get out of this one?