The monster truck was more than big enough to hold the three passengers. First to come out, two human males, each 6 ft tall. One 50 years old had a bushy beard and had a gut that extended a bit too far. The other human was skinnier, bald, perhaps 70 years old.
Each of them had been hunting for their whole lives, neither of them had seen Marco in quite a while. “Charlton? Seems kinda quiet here huh?” The bald old man spoke as he approached Marco’s front steps. Charlton turned to his friend as he gently nudged the front door open,
Stetson had made one little error. Leaving the front door unlocked. In among the chaos and finding Aiden, it probably didn’t even cross his mind. “Think someone broke in?” Heston asked in a whisper, wondering if the perpetrator was still around. Approaching from behind was the tallest of the two. A 7-foot tall canine, a beagle to be exact. His ears floppy, his tail and backside black with white spots.
To a lot of people, beagles were overall cute, but Trigger was covered in old scars and he got his teeth sharpened at a dogfighting ring about an hour away. He made sure no one thought he was cute-and if they did, he’d think they were as messed up as he was.
Busting in with no fear, Trigger aimed the shotgun he held in his two hands. Poking into every room. The two hunters behind him let him do his thing. His sense of smell got them through a lot of situations. Even though he was a furry, he looked down at his own species. Sometimes he even indulged in cannibalism. Truth be told, Charlton and Heston were both a bit afraid of him.
Looking at the kitchen, he saw the trap door where Aiden was kept was flung open and Marco’s bloody body lied on the tiled floor a few feet from it. “Looks like someone went vigilante on Marco.” Heston and Charlton each walked to the kitchen, Charlton stroked his beard. He sighed deeply. “He was a good hunter. Ol’ Marco.” Heston just stared at the corpse,rarely had he seen such a bloody mess.
Trigger put his gun down and began to raid the fridge,fetching a cold beer. “Wonder if a furry did it?” He sipped. Heston spoke up,eyeing the dog. “Fincher’s bar said some guy was looking for him. Beat up a few hunters while he was at it. A deer. Stetson, I think it was.” Kneeling to Marco, Trigger sniffed his chest. “Yeah. It’s a deer alright. If he’s as big as everyone says he is, he’d be good game.” He smiled and finished the beer with a gulp. “I think it’s about time Stetson got a taste of his own medicine.” The three were shocked at Marco let out a deep and sickly breath. Blood pouring from his wounds and his eyes wide.
Connie was more than a little surprised when she saw Stetson looking tired at her doorstep and a human who looked up at her with a slightly curious gaze. “Connie, I need to talk to you” Stetson proclaimed softly. She quickly let the two in, the night air is a bit cold, especially for the human with no fur she thought to herself.
Stetson told her everything. She didn’t know the true darkness that stirred within him after his daughter was shot. The deer never seemed to have violence in him, as scared as she was, she wanted to help her friend. Hehad been there for her, whether it was to fix pluming or to watch her house ifshe was gone on a trip. That was years ago though. He was a different animalthan she once thought.
Leading Aiden to the couch, she made him some hot chocolate. The human didn’t talk much, perhaps he was a bit unsure of where all of this would lead. “Can Stetson stay with me?” he asked in a soft tone as Connie and the tired deer stood talking a few feet from him, the couch was large and comfortable. The living room had a small TV, which was now on low. Behind the couch, a doorframe stood leading to the small kitchen. In front of Aiden was a large shelf of old books, the chill from the outside had gone away for the most part.
After showering and throwing on a tank top and jeans, Stetson sat by Aiden. Not too close, as he admittedly still felt odd about a human obsessing over him so much. Under the couch, the deer kept his rifle and hunting knife.
Aiden sipped his drink, looking towards the television, but his mind was certainly not on the football game that was playing. “Stetson? Are you going to run away if police find you?” Leaning back, Stetson sipped a Redd’s Apple Ale. Aiden looked to his manly mannerisms and huge demeanor. “Well, I guess that all depends on what’s going on. To tell you the truth, I might regret what I did.”Aiden stopped sipping his beverage as soon as those words reached his ears.“You mean, if you could go back you wouldn’t have killed Marco?”
Pausing, he set his drink on his lap, holding the top of the bottle with one hand, the gears in his brain turning. Something about Aiden’s soft tone and naïve approach was cute. “I think if I could go back, I would have tied Marco up and gotten you out of the house. I don’t think torturing him was good. Now I have blood forever on my hands and consciousness.It’s not what Daisy would have wanted.” His tone slumped into a softer volume as well. Aiden had trouble reading emotions, but something in his heart told him Stetson was a good guy. Despite his crimes, despite his road to vengeance, something told him he was far from heartless. His father was heartless. That was true evil incarnate. Thinking of Marco made Aiden uncomfortable though. No reason to burden himself with his horrible abusive past.
Stetson looked off into space, forgetting where he was. Until he felt something lie on his leg. Glancing, Aiden had put his head in his lap. At first, he wanted to flinch and move over. Human contact was something he defiantly wasn’t used too. Daisy was cuddly and so was his wife, and Connie liked hugs too, but they were furries. A human doing this at first seemed odd and maybe gross. The more Stetson looked at Aiden however, the more he didn’t mind it. Maybe Aiden needed rest too. Truthfully, that was only one part of it. Sincerely, he wanted to feel that the deer was there. He knew then he was far from harm.
The night only became quieter. Both Stetson and Aiden were now fast asleep. Aiden’s arms are wrapped around the deer’s waist, his face buried into his abdomen.Connie had just finished cleaning the kitchen, she was still in her denim shirt and black khakis and was ready to change into her night wear. Turning the lightsoff in the kitchen, the coyote heard an odd sound from outside. Something sheknew wasn’t a natural part of the night. The sound of a door slamming. Runningto the kitchen window, she saw a pair of bright headlights. She picked them outsimply because coyote’s had vision that surpassed humans.
Trigger, Charlton, Heston and perhaps ten other hunters split up once everyone had rifles and hopped out of separate vehicles. They knew Stetson wouldn’t be the only furry, so bringing along reinforcements seemed like a good idea. Hunters loved game, and these woods held plenty of it. The evening air cold, the hunters were bundled up. None of them were nervous, in fact, everyone seemed to be overly confident. Trigger and Charlton made their way towards Connie’scabin. The dog sniffed the air as he led the way. The beagle held a pistol, Charlton held a shotgun, his bald head covered by a baseball cap.
Connie reached into a hidden compartment in the kitchen and loaded her .44 magnum. Stetson walked into the kitchen tiredly, hearing the clicks of the weapon as she fiddled with it. “Everything okay?” She sighed. “Heard a vehicle and saw some headlights. Looked like a bunch of guys with guns.” Putting his vest on quickly, the deer woke Aiden up from his gentle slumber. “Aiden, go upstairs to the guest bedroom and lock the door. I’ll be up there as soon as I can.”
With terror behind his eyes, Aiden sighed. He couldn’t lose Stetson. The only other being who cared for him besides Connie. Truthfully, he didn’t trust Connie as much as Stetson. After a quick hug, Aiden does as he’s told. Dreading the future. More violence and bloodshed were not ideal.
Hiding behind a tree a few feet from the front of the cabin, Charlton crouched and readied his gun, he knew once Stetson came out, he could get a clean shot if he killed Trigger and made his way outside. With no warning, Trigger busts the front door open with a crash that was both loud and extremely violent. The dog huffed and puffed as he made his way into the cabin. Stepping into the livingroom, a TV on low, a large couch in front of it. He smelt Stetson and a coyote, holding his weapon in a position that was ready to fire. He licked his lips and walked threw the house, purposely knocking over glass items which sat on counter tops and tables. “You can’t hide for long furry fuck balls!” he yelled and then laughed afterward.
Connie was upstairs, leaning against the walls. A few inches from her was the banister to the staircase. She leaned over and fired a shot at the dog’s kneecap, hoping to get him to fall and kill him. As the bullet entered his leg, he barked in pain, blood oozed from the bullet wound, but it didn’t slow him down. Growling, he aimed the shotgun and fired, part of the banister broke into thousands of pieces of wood. As adrenaline kicked in and knowing Aiden was locked in a room and needed protection, she walked briskly down the rest of the staircase sideways, firing bullets into the dog, some hit, and some missed.
Charlton heard the commotion from inside, his eyesight faced the house where all he could see were flashes of gunfire through the windows. He hoped his dear dog wasn’t dead. Feeling the muzzle of a gun behind his neck was not what he expected.“Hey hunter” Stetson said in a condescending tone, after a quick gasp, the deer pulled the trigger to his rifle. Sending bits of flesh and blood towards the deer’s face, it also splattered his green parka. Hearing more footsteps, he quickly climbed the tree Charlton was crouched behind.
Grunting as he lifts himself, he sighed as he got himself situated. Sitting on a low branch, as he exhaled, his breath could be seen. The weather seemed to only get colder. Readying the rifle, he looked through the scope and into the distance, passed Connie’s cabin. He knew hunters were nearby. Between protecting Connieand Aiden, the stakes were higher then ever.
Connie’s gun jammed as Trigger walked closer to her. She swore to herself and used the weapon instead of a close-range weapon. Smacking the dog in the face, sending a few teeth out of his mouth. Dripping with blood and bullet wounds, Trigger smiled. “My turn” he punched Connie, sending her forcefully on her back. Hearing a snap and feeling lightning pain go through her, she yelled. Trigger then jumped on her and quickly wrapped his paws around her throat. It wasn’t too long before breathing became a struggle, with her eyes watering, she helplessly kicked. She did manage to scratch Trigger’s hands well enough for them to bleed. He yelled in pain but didn’t let go.
Snowflakes fell on Stetson’s black nose and dripped down to his parka. The sound of the wind became more apparent. In the middle of the hunting ground is Connie’shouse, which made a fine barrier for extra hiding. Across the front door past afew trees, Stetson sat in a tree top, surrounded by other trees. The back area of the house was denser, full of unkept plants. More natural.
Seeing leaves move close in front of his eyesight, Stetson held his breath, through the scope of his rifle he saw three hunters. Holding shotguns, talking to themselves. Taking one deep breath, he fired. Hitting the head of one of the hunters. Blood sprayed like a spurt of mist from the top of his head, as he hit the ground, a piece of his brain popped out on impact since the wound was at the center of his skull. The other hunters yell and tense up, looking for the deer. Cocking their heads left and right. Stetson was far enough away from them so that unless they had extremely good vision, they couldn’t see the deer Not at night especially.
The deer smirked looking down at the small looking hunters from so high up. He fired two other bullets, each for the two extra hunters, both yell in pain and fall to the ground. He wanted to see them bleed out a bit, feel the pain so many prey animals felt. Stetson yelped. A small stinging sensation entered his leg, looking down his heart leaps into his throat. A dart protruded from his thigh. Someone outsmarted him. Someone he didn’t hear coming. Gasping, he tumbled backward. Falling a few feet from the tree, the deer hit the ground hard. Perhaps breaking a bone or two. The rifle flew from his hand. He blacked out just after he heard a pair of large footsteps inch to him. He knew the breath. He knew the smell of the flesh. Marco smiled down on the deer, grabbed his ankles and pulled him through the woods.