Otherworldly Hunter

A roar jolted me from my sleep. Cursing myself for not having gotten the laser surgery to fix my vision, I fumbled for my glasses, found them, and put them on. I heard the roar again, closer now, but far enough away that I thought I still might have time. Heart pounding, I struggled out of my sleeping bag, not even bothering with the zipper on it, and pulled open the tent flap. I peered out, hoping to catch a glimpse of the creature, and at the same time hoping against hope that I would never have to lay eyes on it.

I saw nothing but the trees around me, but I could I hear and feel a rhythmic booming, and my mind took me back to watching Jurassic Park, and watching a glass of water shaking. I felt the thundering getting louder and stronger, but I couldn’t tell what direction it was coming from. Once I thought it couldn’t get any closer, it stopped. I barely breathed, listening for another roar, though I knew that the creature only stopped running once it had caught up to its prey. I looked around carefully out the tent flap, from side to side, and let my breath out when I saw nothing. I wiped the sweat that had built up on my brow.

Then I heard it. I felt a hot air blowing on my neck, panting slightly. There was a putrescence to it that was beyond any alley dumpster or roadkill skunk I had ever passed by. Hardly daring to move, but knowing I would eventually have to see it anyway, I slowly turned my head upwards. I didn’t see anything, only blackness, before realizing that my eyes were closed. My breath shook as I swallowed my pounding heart, only now discovering it somewhere in my throat, and opened my eyes.

My first impression was how much the teeth resembled fishhooks; not that they curved at the ends, but they were each wickedly barbed on the inside. The teeth themselves had a curve to them, the better to keep food caged inside the prison of its maw. Forgetting to breathe, I was struck then by how many teeth there were. There didn’t seem to be multiple rows, but they were clustered so close together that it was difficult to tell, and it didn’t help that the mouth was wider than my body was long, and was now gaping to allow me to study every detail of the inside.

I swallowed hard again, not keen to see it from the other side. I didn’t dare look away from the creature, knowing that once I did it would be all over. I could tell in my peripheral vision that it had six powerful legs, but a very slim body that was covered in silky black fur that was touched here and there with gray speckles. I wondered if it was old, and I studied its face, trying to see if its eyes would have cataracts.

I could see no eyes, however, only the mouth and what must have been the nose directly above it. The nostrils were flared, breathing my scent in, anticipating what I must taste like. If I hadn’t been wishing I was still asleep in the tent, or better yet, at home in my bed, I would have appreciated how perfect of a predator this creature was. Come to think of it, I could appreciate it as a predator as perfectly as any prey has ever appreciated and respected their killer.

It was then that I noticed that the creature couldn’t quite get to me while I was in the tent. Its mouth was simply too big to grab me without catching on the tent itself.

That didn’t stop it from trying. In the next instant, I felt a lurch underneath me as the creature lowered its jaws onto the top of the tent and pulled, shaking it in its mouth. I felt the hair stand up on the back of my neck as the coarse fur of the creature’s jaws brushed against my arm. I fell forward onto the forest ground, getting the wind knocked out of me in the process, and I tasted blood as my teeth caught my tongue. Gasping, I turned around to see that I was no longer in the tent at all, and the creature had lifted it above me.

This was my only chance. I spat out the blood in my mouth and bolted up, sprinting towards the nearest tree. The lowest branch was still about three feet above my head. As I heard the roar behind me, I knew that the hunt was on once again; it had given up on the tent. I heard the six legs pounding behind me again, felt its breath getting closer, and smelled the breath that I was desperate not to be added to. In a last burst of energy, I leapt for the branch.

Grateful for my gymnastics training, both hands grabbed the branch and, just like the uneven parallel bars, I swung myself up and over, ignoring the scrapes and cuts that were appearing on my hands from the rough bark, and I brought my feet to stand on the branch itself.

I was not a moment too soon, as the creature barreled right underneath the branch, its jaws closing around the place I had just been. Not knowing whether it could climb, but knowing that I could never outrun it on the ground, I ascended through the branches of the tree as fast as I could. When I stopped to take a breath, I looked back down. It was a mistake. The creature was huddled back on its haunches, and I knew it was preparing to spring.

I felt the tree shake as the creature’s weight was added to the lowest branch, only ten feet below me, and I struggled to hold on as the creature hauled itself up onto it, and began to make its way toward me. I turned around to climb higher, but there were no more branches on this side of the tree above me. I looked around, hoping that maybe I could jump to another tree, but the nearest was too far away, and the branch I was on was too thin to support my weight farther away from the trunk.

There were only two options now: wait for the creature to get to me up here, or try to make it back down to the ground before it did. I chose option three. I waited till it got to the branch just below me, then dropped to where I was holding on to the branch and swung myself below it, bringing my feet up just as the creature leaped for me.

My feet caught it square in the chest as I kicked out at it. There was a sickening crunch, and I realized I had connected with brittle bones. The creature fell back, its six legs splayed to either side. It hit the branch it had just leapt from on its back, and slid away from it, hitting another branch below it with its jaw, and I saw barbed teeth fly. It landed on the ground on its back with a thud and didn’t move.

I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I had been holding as I waited for a while on the tree. I stared down at it, thinking that it might have been a trick. But it didn’t move, and I could tell it wasn’t breathing anymore. Still shaking a little, I swung myself down and wiped off the bark that had stuck to my clothes. My hands stung from where they had scraped themselves raw on the branches, but they would heal.

I went back to the collapsed tent and began fishing through it for my first aid kit and my phone. Finding both, I wrapped bandages around my hands and put the dead phone in my pocket after cursing myself for not charging it.

As I began packing up the tent itself, I heard another roar, very close. My eyes widened as I felt myself being lifted off the ground. My heart pounding harder than ever, as if it knew this was the last bit of blood it would pump through my body, my last thought was that I should have known the creature had a mate.

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Big thanks to Robert Gamboa for this week's suggestion. This one was a struggle for me to get the right sense of fear injected into the story. How did I do? Post in the comments or send an email.

For next week's challenge, submit your favorite joke growing up. It could be as simple as "Why did the chicken cross the road?" The challenge will be for me to write a compelling scene around it. Post your joke in the comments below, or send an email. As a reminder, please have all submissions in by Thursday at 9 pm CST.

See you next week!