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elle-daniels · 5 years

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Excerpt from The Witch Hunt

The optimal period to venture off to the mountaintop ridge bordering the state, was in autumn. The decaying, colorful arrangement of navel peaches, passionate violets and crimson reds made for the ideal resources for camouflage out in the naked forest. The air had a twangy, fresh, piney aroma; a vivacious mixture of tree bark and cool air.

The naturistic blend of fragrances gave a disguising musk over the predator as he crouched inconspicuously along the vibrant forest floor, in search for a meal.

The meal being a deer caught off guard, or a wolf straying from the pack. The predator being me. The burly bushes provided shelter as I soundlessly hunted. Nostrils flared, fangs hanging out, my mouth-watered at the waft of a nearby visceral. My pulse quickened as its fresh, gamey scent followed the chilly, tranquil breeze.

Self-control contained the impulse from blindly leaping into the air, prowling directly for the kill. Sharp senses allowed for a calculative move towards apprehending the bait. Enhanced strength aided in nimbly yet stealthily darting from one concealed spot to another. Body pressed against the sturdy, bare-naked oak tree, my chest silently heaved upwards as I caught my breath. My head snapped to the right.

Like a silent ghost, my brother descended from the branches above. The only noise that followed his landing, was the crackling and crunching of crisped leaves. Knelt to the floor, his calculative black eyes darted east then west before leaping mightily into the air. One solid leap and he was perched up on the bare branch above my head.

The branch wobbled once before standing remotely still. I crawled quietly, my narrowed eyes glued to him. The competitiveness was the underlying drive that powered the incentive. Now it was more imperative that I caught my kill before him. It was a guy thing.

Showing off, my brother, Allan, leaped backwards sailing onto the ground completing a clean, barely audible landing. His long lips pulled upwards, his glossy white fangs spilling out of his boastful smirk.

“Top that.” He challenged me, his nostrils flared from panting.

Blood running hot with adrenaline, I lifted my feet upwards, bounding from the tree beside me, to the tree opposite me then using that inertia to take off into the air. Arms spread out, I dived down, spinning once before perching on top one of the highest trees among the woodsy oaks, needle-point pines and towering spruces.

Allan looked like an ant from my post.

My head gravitated up then down as I observed him with tremendous strength, soar upwards then dive into the branches across me.

“Not too shabby.” He teased.

“Same to you as well.”

“Well, ya know. I am the best hunter in our pack.” Allan gloated.

I frowned.

“You aren’t all that.” I relaxed on the branch, letting my legs dangle over the edge. Allan followed suit. His lengthy, black dreads blew right and left with the breeze, sometimes spilling over his egg-shaped head.

He brushed the strands from his eyes, capturing the aero scenic view from down below.

“I wish we didn’t have to leave. Imagine if we lived up here, away from everything else. Away from the people.”

“I know.”

“Then we wouldn’t have to feel like we have to hide who we really are. Like we could just…live.”

“We are still people, Allan.” I focused my gaze on the placid, mountainous landscape directly before me. Another chilled breeze prickled the hairs on my skin.

“Yes and then no. Come on, Simon. You have to see what I am saying.” There was a line of exasperation behind Allan’s tone.

I looked upwards, letting out a long, pelt up sigh. Goosebumps arose on my flesh. I narrowed my eyes. Usually that indicated trouble. Blinking slowly, I kept a wary eye peeled.

Allan continued on. He was the talker out of us both. He also was the more sensitive one and the guy to wear his thumping heart exposed on his sleeve.

“I hate it in the city.”

“We live by a beach.” I counteracted.

“Same difference. Can’t even socialize or mingle around without someone possibly figuring out who we are as people. If we are even people that is.”

“Would you just shut up about it, Allan? You are starting to sound like a wimp.” I was tired of hearing the senseless, negative babble. Sometimes I worried that Allan was not adapting well.

Allan fell quiet--told you he was the more sensitive one. His ego was always being jabbed. Completely turning his profile against me, he directed his gaze towards the breath-taking scenic view stretching out before us.

We both peered downwards simultaneously, to witness our cousin waving at us from way down below. Zeb had skin as black as night, a smooth short haircut and a grin so white you’d think they were diamonds. He had a skinny yet muscular frame.

The hairs on my skin jolted upwards; a frosty chill brushed over me, leaving tiny bubbles dotted across my arms and legs. Breathing inwardly, my mind pensively scoped the area. That premonition feeling struck me yet again, but this time stronger. With time, the intensity increased, perspiration rolled down my clenched brow and an abrupt ringing noise rattled my eardrum.

“You feel that?” I turned to address Allan.

The exact moment the words escaped my tongue, a ferocious, dark shadow zipped through the forest, weaving in and out of the towering trees. One second Cousin Zeb was standing there, the next his body was being snatched away. Only sound we heard was his short, cut-off yelp before his body jerked to the left.

Allan and I lounged from up high, our feet shaking the ground below following our swift landing. Without question we charged left, moving our legs quicker than we ever did before. My lungs felt as if they were going to capsize when we came to a swift halt over the cliff. We exchanged wide-eyed glances before splitting off to weave through the timber, calling out for our cousin desperately.

My tone rattled with desperation. “Zeb! Zeb! Zebbbbbbbbb!”

No reply. Just the faint sound of Allan calling out for him in the distance and the sharp, high-pitched bird chirping. Insects croaked in the background, the sun began to peel back underneath the horizon. It appeared as if the golden, yellow sun was drowning in a pool of crimson, red blood. My mouth felt dry like a desert.

Soon dusk turned to a solid, indigo black night.

Allan and I defeatedly met up. The gravity of the situation made it difficult to talk. We just looked at one another, his eyes glossy with fright, mine narrowed with insufferable worry. Checking all bases, we zoomed to the quaint, log cabin tucked behind a dense row of lengthy timber.

We called out for him inside, throwing open each door. Only thing creeping inside was perpetual darkness. We flickered on the lights, attempting another go around in the small bungalow.

Allan rubbed his forehead repeatedly.

“Where could he be! You saw what I saw right? Someone or something snatched him up. Just like that. We have to check the woods again. This time take the car.” Allan said, holding back the stress tears that fought to slip out. As sensitive as he was, he tried to be strong.

I seized the keys from on top the mantle, locked the door and rushed over towards the black Jeep. Allan shut the passenger’s door. I started the engine, then roared off down the rocky pathway snaking inside the darkened woodland.

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