The Mating Run by Leeka

Savior
Savior
2 67%a
My teeth clench tightly as I stare at the knife, its blade stained with blood.
With a heavy heart, I fight back against her, driven by the need to reclaim control in the face of insurmountable challenges. The Hunter’s next advance is met with a defiant thrust, the knife cutting through the air with a sharp swish. As it catches her arm, a scream of agony escapes her lips, and her furious gaze locks
onto me.
The Hunter, fueled by a twisted combination of bloodlust and sa distic pleasure, throws her head back, the sound of her maniacal laughter echoing through the air. Indifferent to the pain, she shrugs her shoulders as if the wound on her arm is of little consequence.
“You’re just dragging it out! Hider, are you trying to turn me on with this?” she spits, wincing as blood trickles down from her wounded arm.
I catch a fleeting glimpse of a chance to break free in the midst of our struggle.
With a burst of energy, I reach for Zeke’s bag and sprint toward the nearby thicket, the sensation of the leaves brushing against my skin. Relentless, the Hunter pursues me, her heavy breathing filling the air, but I manage to evade her with desperate agility.
Gasping for air and covered in bruises, I crumple against a sturdy tree trunk.
After sprinting through the dense underbrush, my breath comes in ragged gasps, and my heart pounds in my ears. With every step I take, the Hunter’s relentless pursuit echoes behind me, like a haunting melody that sends shivers down my spine.
Each rustle of leaves and snap of a twig seems to amplify the fear pulsing through my veins.
I can feel her presence looming over me, her clawed hands poised to sna tch me
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our deadly game unfolds. With each step, my legs scream in agony, the burning nsation spreading through my muscles. Balancing precariously on the verge of rrender, the Hunter’s snarls close in, until a jarring twang pierces the air, breaking
e suspense.
A sharp whistle fills the air as an arrow narrowly misses my ear, its feathers azing my skin.
In a moment of panic, I stumble and immediately spin around to confront the oise. In a seamless transition, the Hunter’s predatory growls morph into a visceral urgle, forming a chilling symphony of demise.
Time comes to a halt as I pivot, and a sense of dread slowly morphs into utter lisbelief.
With a thud, the once unstoppable Hunter collapses onto the forest floor, a deadly arrow finding its mark between her eyes. Her face twists in fear, her mouth agape in a soundless shriek.
end.
I gasp, and my eyes widen as I take in the scene before me.
An arrow pierces through her skull, leaving a trail of blood in its wake.
The blaring siren pierces the air, a signal that the Hunter’s life has come to an

My throat unleashes a piercing scream that cuts through the heavy, suffocating air, reverberating among the dense foliage. As fear consumes me, my limbs become entangled in a frenzied dance, and I stumble backward, finding solace against a gnarled tree trunk.
My wide eyes fixate on the dead Hunter, their pale, unblinking gaze locked onto mine.
The unsettling silence in the forest seems to magnify the rapid thumping of my heart.
Panic engulfs me like a raging wildfire, obliterating all sense of logic and leaving
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only the primal urge to survive. Clutching the blood-stained knife, my trembling fingers feel the icy chill of its metallic surface, grounding me in a reality teetering on the precipice of madness.
My eyes dart from one hidden thicket to another, searching for any sign of movement from the archer who released the arrow. There is no one to be seen in that forest, yet I can’t shake the feeling of being watched. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up, suggesting that someone has been lurking nearby, keeping an eye on me. Every rustle and whisper of the wind heightens the sense of impending danger.
“Who’s there?”
I call out, my voice filled with desperation.
In the silence, my words echo back to me, creating an eerie and haunting atmosphere. The archer remains elusive, disappearing into the shadows, leaving me alone to grapple with the sight of the dead Hunter. Fear and disbelief cause my body to tremble uncontrollably.
Adrenaline surges through my veins, my heart pounding in my chest, torn between the urge to flee and the curiosity that holds me in place.
My eyes dart around, searching for any flicker of movement amidst the dense foliage, while my ears absorb the symphony of the forest, every note carrying an undercurrent of mysterious danger.
In the distance, a twig snaps, its ominous cra ck echoing through the forest.
Every nerve on edge, I hold my breath, trying to pinpoint the origin of the unsettling noise.
“Show yourself!”
I shout, my voice filled with desperation, contradicting the false bravado I am trying to project.
The air is shattered by a creaking sound, and then the rustle of leaves breaks
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the stillness, as if they have materialized out of thin air. With the knife clenched in my trembling hand, I spin around, my heart pounding, as a figure steps out from the shadows.
Approaching with measured steps, a silhouette emerges from the shadows, their features hidden from view.
And then, she comes into the light, and I see her.
As Ettie emerges from the shadows, her unfamiliar eyes lock onto mine, leaving me feeling like I am face to face with a stranger.
Her hands grip the bow tightly, while a cluster of arrows stands at attention behind her. She has grown thin, her cheekbones jutting out prominently. She is wearing a tracksuit splattered with blood, the stains clinging to the fabric like a grotesque second skin. My gaze falls upon the number 46 displayed prominently on her tracksuit.
Our
ev
lock, and in the silent expanse between us, the weight of unspoken histories hangs heavy.
The forest, once bustling with the sounds of prey and predator, now echoes with an air of tension and mystery. Her piercing gaze bores into mine, revealing a feral intensity that hints at the untamed nature within.
“Alina.”
She utters a raspy whisper that lingers in the air, carrying the weight of her silence from days past. And maybe that is the case, maybe that’s why she has a pained expression on her face. We had promised to meet again, but I had never truly anticipated it happening. I long to see her after the mating run, when we are both committed to mates, and I won’t have to witness her covered in blood anymore.
As we stare at each other in silence, a tense heartbeat seems to linger in the air. I can feel her eyes studying my body, as if she is looking for any wounds, and it makes me realize my negligence in not doing the same for her. Fear overwhelms my thoughts as doubt creeps in, questioning whether this is truly Ettle or just a creation
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of my mind.
Before me stands Ettie, a hunter whose presence exudes the lingering scent of blood and primal instinct.
The image is so perplexing that it challenges the boundaries of my comprehension. Alone and untethered, she strays from the brutal camaraderie of her fellow Hunters, deviating from the familiar script that has etched itself into my memories.
The silence stretches, wrapping around us like a thick blanket, making the weight of the unspoken almost suffocating.
Hidden beneath the weariness and scars on Ettie’s face, her gaze flickers with a whirlwind of emotions.
Is she my savior or just a fake brought on by fate?
“Ettie.”
I finally say something, breaking the awkward silence. Gripping the knife that had once been my protector, I feel its weight pulling me down as it hangs loosely at my side. It shows how unsure our fates are, like a surrender.
Ettie’s eyes flicker, showing a whirlwind of emotions for a moment. Her Inner turmoil, a kaleidoscope of emotions, slips through my fingers, leaving me unable to fully comprehend her recognition, remorse, or primal Instincts. The forest, with all its ancient secrets, sees two people come together again after a crazy past in the Mating Run.
“Alina, I-
Ettle begins, her words stumbling and sca ttering like leaves caught in a relentless gust.