The Mating Run by Leeka

Safe
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With every stumble they make inside the cave, my eyes widen, and the darkness seems to grow thicker, suffocating the lingering fear.
Instead of a Hunter, a disheveled figure with wild hair stumbles into the cave, looking lost.
A Hider. Like me.
The sight of her tear-stained face and trembling limbs creates an eerie atmosphere in the cave.
“Whoa, slow down, calm down!”
My voice trembles as I stammer, its echoes bouncing off the cave walls like a hesitant symphony. Without hesitation, I make my presence known, instinctively guiding her to prevent a potential fall.
As our eyes meet, I see a desperate plea swimming within the depths of the Hider’s gaze. The tracksuit she wears is in tatters, with bloodstains marring the fabric and blending together into an unrecognizable blur. I don’t see a number to identify her with, and her trembling hands suggest she might not even remember her own name.
She remains frozen, shaking uncontrollably, as I come closer to her. Her pants are becoming increasingly wet as fear takes hold of her, a clear indication that she has peed herself out of the belief that I am a Hunter.
I raise my hands up in defense, trying to ease her concerns and showing her that I pose no threat. “What happened?”
I ask, my voice trailing off and creating an uneasy silence. The Hider’s breaths are ragged, sounding like a desperate melody that emphasizes the seriousness of her ordeal. She speaks in hesitant, broken sentences, her words a jumbled mix of fear and urgency.
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1701 West, 6 Mar C)
Sale
“Monsters, they… they got my friend-,”
With a shaky whisper, she mumbles, her voice piercing through the silence,
unsettling me to the core. As tears stream down the Hider’s face, she can feel the cool touch of despair on her cheeks.
“I-Iran, but they’re relentless. I don’t know how many are left… I just… I need a
moment.
伯
Clutching the sides of her tattered tracksuit, her trembling hands betray her shattered composure. My eyes dart around the entrance of the cave, a tingling sensation running down my spine as I anticipate the appearance of the monsters she warned me about, their dark shapes elongated by the waning daylight.
“Just calm down and breathe. Come on, you can do it!”
I urge, but my words seem to dissolve into the air, unable to provide any comfort in the face of the unfolding nightmare. As the Hider sinks to the cave floor, the sound of her ragged breaths roverberates through the darkness.
The Hider, a disheveled specter of terror, hositates for a moment, her rapid. breaths filling the air with a sense of unease as her eyes lock onto mine, desperate for safety.
Maintaining a cautious distance, I observe the Hider’s trombling frame, a somber testament to the indelible trauma they have endured. The cave feels heavy and suffocating, as if the darkness has seeped into its very essence.
“Don’t worry, you can take your time, no one will harm you in here.”

I murmur, my voice barely audible, offering a gentle reassurance amidst the unyielding uncertainty. Haunted by what she has seen, the Hider’s eyes flicker with a mix of gratitude and desperation.
I can see the Hider’s eyes, a mosaic of fear and gratitude, searching for comfort in my gaze. And so I nod again, reiterating the exact words I just uttered.
“You can trust me, you’re safe.”
17.03 Wed, 6 Mar
Safe
With cautious steps, I retrieve a handful of plump, ripe berries from my dwindling supply and a small container of refreshing water. When the Hider sees the meager food I am giving her, her eyes, still haunted by the horrors she has faced, widen with surprise.
“Grab a bite and have a drink. It’s not a lot, but it’ll make a difference.”
I say, my voice barely above a whisper, a gentle murmur.
With trembling hands, she eagerly reaches for the berries and water, her body craving sustenance as if it has been deprived for days. And maybe, just maybe, she hasn’t at all. The cave’s shadows twist and turn, creating elongated silhouettes that seem to mimic the fragility of her spirit.
The Hider, her cheeks stained with tears, gobbles up the berries recklessly, her hunger overpowering any sense of self-control.
I observe silently, witnessing the heaviness of her predicament with each desperate bite. Her faint s obs intertwine with the reverberating echoes, filling the confined space with a melancholic melody.
While she chews, the mixture of desperation and starvation clings to her every bite, her tears intermingling with the berries. The Hider has faced horrors that I can’t even fathom, and yet she eagerly devours the meager offerings before her.
“You might wanna take it easy, you might choke.”
I suggest, my voice filled with a soft plea for consideration.
The Hider’s hunger consumes her, leaving her oblivious to everything else around her. With a gentle push, I offer her more berries, hoping that the shared act of indulging in their juiciness will bring our divergent worlds closer together,
I watch, my eyes fixed on the heart-wrenching scene unfolding in front of me, unable to look away. The sound of the Hider’s so bs, muf fled by the berries in her mouth, fills the air, resonating with the echoes of her recent ordeal.
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17.03 Wed, 6 Mar
Safe
But she pays little heed, her insatiable hunger driving her to abandon any notion of propriety. The cave’s shadows wrap around her like ghostly figures, emphasizing the despair etched onto her face.
“They… They got hold of my friend. I thought she was finally going to find at mate, but he just had sex with her and took her life. I have no idea how he pulled that off, with all the cameras and stuff. It wasn’t as crazy last year. That’s why me and my friend decided to join. If only I had known it would be this bad, I never would have registered.”
Gasping for breath, she finally manages to articulate her words, each one piercing the air with a chilling revelation.
The weight of her confession lingers in the cave, a heavy silence that magnifies. the brutality of the Mating Run. I can’t comprehend the depths of her grief, but the tears that mix with the berries paint a vivid picture.
As the Hider finishes eating the last of the berries, a solemn understanding passes between us, casting a somber mood.
“I have no idea what to say, sorry.”
My murmured words hang delicately in the air, adding to the weight of the moment. The Hider looks up, her tear-streaked face illuminated by the faint light, and in that fleeting moment, our eyes connect in a wordless understanding.
reach out, offering a silent gesture of solidarity, and feel her trembling shoulder beneath my hand. As the Hider chews the last remnants of the berries, their eyes meet mine, filled with a blend of thankfulness and sorrow.
With trembling hands, she places the empty water bottle on the ground after she’s done with it, and as I shift my gaze from the stains to her battered figure, a
gasp escapes me
The bruises on her body resemble morbid tattoos, with each one appearing bloodier and more vivid than the last. It hasn’t occurred to me how dreadful they are until I catch a whiff of the putrid, sickly smell emanating from some of them.
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17:03 Wed, 6 Mar O
Safe
“Holy cr ap, what happened to you?”
In a hushed whisper, I let the words escape, heavy with the weight of unanswered questions. Her eyes lock onto the tattered remnants of her clothes, clinging desperately to her, as she looks down. Unaware of the severity of her wounds, she blinks, her expression unchanged.
“I… I don’t even know.”
Her response is soft, almost trembling, revealing her fragile state.
Without another word, I reach for Zeke’s bag. As I reach into the bag, my hands fumble clumsily, struggling to find what I’m looking for. My hands clumsily search through the bag, feeling the familiar shape of the bandages, a glimmer of hope as I realize there are still some left. I have no idea how he got them, but I’m not about to question his generosity.
$9.”
“Hey, what’s your number? Mine’s 9.”
Wanting to divert her, I speak firmly, my voice carrying determination. The Hider takes a deep breath, then reluctantly discloses the digits etched on her tracksuit, her voice barely above a whisper.
“57”
With each layer of fabric I peel away, the sight of her injuries unfolds before me, painting a gruesome picture in my mind. As she rolls up her sleeve, a ghastly sight greets me – her entire arm is marred by bruises, welts, and cuts.
I try my hardest to keep myself from retching.
The Hider winces in discomfort as I carefully wrap the bandages, the air filled with a symphony of muted pain.
The bandages, barely clinging to her battered body, provide little relief to the physical wounds that mirror the deep emotional scars etched into her soul.
As I secure the last bandage, the Hider’s smile radiates genuine appreciation.