Chapter 10: Chapter 10: Pray for the Prey

Chapter 11: Pray for the Prey

The men appeared in an open area, the sun setting, casting long shadows. The grass was about waist high, and a clear path was knocked down from where Trint had run.

“Hey, there’s his trail!” Shouted one of the men. “Let’s get ‘em.”

“Just kill him and get his gear,” barked the man with the close-cut beard, clearly showing who was in charge. “You two, stay close to me and watch our flank.” The five other men he signaled to chase their prey. They eagerly obeyed and ran ahead to hunt. 

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The only problem with being a predator is if an apex predator comes along and ends up making them just another dead animal.

Trint had run into the woods, and even though he had sprinted the whole way, he wasn’t panting for breath due to his increased stats.

Pneuma, what now? He still trusted that the situation wasn’t as hopeless as it seemed. Yes, he was stronger than he used to be, but he was reminded of the first two thugs that nearly killed him and Roger.

Sit down and close your eyes, Pneuma replied. Today, you learn to hunt as a cub learns from their parent. They watch and learn and eat after their parents make the kill. I don’t need to ask permission since you don’t know how to stop me yet, but I won’t ever do this without asking unless you are in serious need and can’t respond. Trint, may I have permission to hunt? Pneuma phrased the question as if asking to borrow a friend’s car, nervous, he might say now, but optimistic over the reply.

Pneuma, what are you asking? What happens if I allow you to hunt? Trint was starting to feel pressure as he could hear the shouts of his pursuers and was uncertain as to just what Pneuma wanted to do.

Please trust me, Trint. I mean you no harm and will stop soon after the hunt. Pneuma emphasized.

He could feel the men were closing in. They were spread out, like a search party, and had pulled out torches to see in the darkness under the trees. They would be on Trent in a few minutes if they continued at their pace.

Ok, I'll give you permission to hunt. Trint gave in.

Immediately Trint felt like his body went rigid, and his awareness and perception retreated internally like he closed his eyes and was dreaming. He could still see from the vantage of his own eyes, but he felt like watching through someone else’s body. His body took up, and his view was lifted higher. Trint was about 6 feet 4 inches, but he was just under 6 feet before the system. As his Stats increased, his physical frame had gotten taller and broader at the shoulders as more muscle was added. He wasn’t bulky per se but more substantial, and his body reflected those changes. Pneuma had explained that he wouldn’t always continue to grow, but once he reached an optimal size and shape, his growth would be qualitative and not quantitative. Just increases in density and durability. When Trint focused on his vision, he noticed he no longer had control of his body and was looking down from what he guessed to be about 8 feet in the air. 

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“Guys, I think he went through here!” He erupted from the first one to find his trail in the woods as he smiled to himself. He looked back at his party to see if anyone had heard him and turned forward as he rounded the nearest tree. A slashing sound, like several swords passing through the air, cut the stillness. A wet splashing sound followed in their wake.

The cowboy followed his partner about 20 yards behind and off to the side. As he rounded the same tree he last saw his partner yell from, he tripped on a log.

He cursed the tree that caused him to fall. Picking himself up, he grabbed his dropped mana torch. Looking down, he saw he had picked up a large amount of wet mud on his pants and tried to wipe it off with his left hand. Realizing what he felt was not mud, he lifted his damp hand to see in the torchlight better. Rather than dark mud, his hand was coated in bright red. Blood red.

Fear, do you smell it, Trinten? Pneuma asked. Use our connection and search for them. Do you smell them or sense their spirits? Barely a blip, so faint they might as well not exist. Pneuma relished in this, But the fear is strong from the one you thought was a cowboy. Let us finish quickly; I can’t maintain this form indefinitely since the Mana is so thin, and you have almost no reserves.

The screams drew all 6 of the other hunters. They found the cowboy hat now on the ground. His pants and hand were covered in blood. He was standing next to a red pool, slowly running downhill of the bisected body. The top half showed a pained expression from the formerly smiling man. The body’s insides spilled out from both halves. Everything was cleanly sliced from shoulder to opposite side at the hip.

“This doesn’t change things.” The group’s boss snapped at them. “If you can catch him, we will make his death last longer for this. So aim to wound him. But, either way, make sure he dies before getting out of here. Dennis and Wade go back to the entrance so he doesn’t circle around and try to leave. Wait until the entrance dissolves and locks, then try to catch up with us.” Dennis and Wade took off back to the start of the instance.

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“The five of us will stick together. No more spreading way out.” The boss now had to adjust their hunting party. “Stay within a dozen yards of each other. We are going to cut him off at the exit. He can’t leave without killing the boss. So, let’s get going. Hurry up, now!” He said as he pushed them in the direction of their prey.

The group crested a hill and was nearing the boss. But as they came in sight of the boss area and exit, they saw the boss and many other monsters lying about, slaughtered. Their corpses were in different states, dissolving into mist and leaving splatters of blood around the clearing. They spun in circles, looking around. The rewards were still there. 

“Maybe he left already,” one guy said. 

‘But if he could kill a level 11 boss that quick by himself, maybe we should let this one go.’ The boss thought.

Then he turned again toward the entrance in the direction of the woods. Out of the darkness came a dark smoke and mist; it was thickest around the ground to about 5 feet high and covered an area the size of a house. At the center was an even darker shape. It looked like a bear on all fours, but it was something more sinister, hidden by the mist but somehow radiating darkness within the already dark area and black smoke. Whatever it was, it was big. As quickly as it was spotted, it moved back into the mist. 

“What was that! Was that another instance, boss?” Another man who caught sight of the monster asked.

“Where is it? What was it?” Yelled the boss. “Did you guys see where it went?”

The others hadn’t seen it and were looking from their boss to where he was pointing. Suddenly the boss felt a sharp pain in his chest. He would have reflexively reached with his hand to grab at his chest. But he was dead before he could.

The other two looking around, heard a squelching sound and turned to see their boss’s feet lifted a few feet off the ground with 2 feet of something dark and dripping blood sticking out of his chest. What caught their attention was the smoking shadow that stood about 8 feet tall, towing over their former boss. It had the general shape of a man, shoulders visible above the mist, but it towered over them. Where there should be muscle and skin, there was smoke and maybe bone. But the shell wasn’t bone; it was black and jagged. Not smooth, but sharp, sticking out at weird angles from the smoke. The sharp angles were moving. Rhythmically pushing out, like a porcupine and then sucking back in. They were undulating across the surface, never appearing in the same place. It would have been beautiful to behold, except the face left no place in one’s heart for peaceful contemplation.

Two men turned and frantically ran towards the entrance in a panic, hoping they could still get out. A man’s body fell in a bloody heap on the ground as the sharp appendage retracted from his chest with a wet sucking sound. As the body fell, the shadowy monster took a swipe with its clawed right hand. Before, the man on the right had time to scream. His chest was gone, his spine exposed, ribs on each side torn through. The contents of the scooped-out chest flew off to the side of the tumbling body.

With the creature’s left hand extending faster than anyone could see, large claws wrapped around the man’s torso, pinning his left arm to his side. Instinctively the man attacked the monster gripping him. Every strike of his sword was rebuffed by the mud-like mist, which seemed to resist damage; each cut was swallowed by the beasts flowing, misty form. He looked up into the eyes of the beast. Shadows swirled around and through the eyes of his captor, and the man became entranced, his body locked up in terror by the eyes of a true predator.

The eyes were black as night, with midnight blue specks glowing in the middle where the iris and pupil would be. Black mist and shadow violently whipped about. Seemingly in response to the breath of this beast but flowing rhythmically to some unseen force, not just mirroring the bodily form but having a life of its own.

Then the beast’s maw went from a closed mouth predatory smile to widening and revealing rows of black teeth, some saw-like and many needle-sharp like a mix of a deep-sea angler fish and a great white shark. As the smile widened, the man screamed. He was too close and responded involuntarily to the many sharp rows of teeth. The beast’s breath was hot as it rolled out of its mouth, a grunted growl with a mix of a laugh. 

“You are no hunter.” It said passing judgment; its mouth extended wide as it grew out of proportion. It loomed larger and, like a snake, struck. The jaws were not just administering venom but closed around the man’s shoulders in its hand. It quickly spat out the top third of the man, head and shoulder intact. It tossed the lower part of the body to the side. 

“Oh, so satisfying, yet not worthy of eating,” growled the hulking beast.

Trint had been viewing the slaughter in a detached and numbed state. Pneuma sent feelings of reassurance to calm and slightly dull the trauma for Trint. This was a lot to take in for anyone.

‘What are you?’ Trint could block out the vision of murder, but like a spiritual eyelid, anytime he opened his eyes, he saw through the eyes of the beast named Pneuma. He saw the slicing and slashing and crushing and biting. It was during the skewering of the boss of this group of men that Trint realized he was screaming. Trint had killed many monsters already but not a human. Pneuma was powerful and extremely fast. A beast was not what came to mind, but somehow he felt the idea of predator and king all at once. And not some cartoon version of a lion king. In some way unknowable but instinctively felt, Pneuma was both royalty and a monster. To be respected and feared. Trent was in awe. He wasn’t even sure what Pneuma looked like since the view was through Pneuma’s eyes. But fear was justified. 

And the screams pulled themselves unbidden from him and these men. The fear was justified by the carnage caused by its claws and what might be a tail. Memories of movies like Predator and Aliens came to mind, but he knew those weren’t exactly how Pneuma looked.

‘Trint, just rest. Close your eyes if you must. I will handle the last of them. The instance has locked, and they are like unknowing lambs before me. They will be slaughtered for their offense and maybe learn caution after Restart. In their next life, maybe they will redeem their character from the trash they were in this one. Rest.” Pneuma said.

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