Freak on a leash

To be the one looked down by a predator much fiercer than he. He never thought he'd get to see the day. There's no greater thrill than hunting something that's hunting you back. It's the entire reason he turned to humans in the first place. No one showed any promise. He was worried he had wasted his time and that there was nothing out there like him. That people were just animals, too dumb to play his game.

Lucky for him, you've proved him very wrong, and he's quite inclined to tip Fox very generously for his purchase. The only drawback that he's found is that he's lost you. Well, not entirely. He knows you're still out there. It's just that your hiding has gotten far better. He smiles to himself at the thought of you taking great care in every step you take around him. He hopes that it's because of him. That he's set a fire inside of you, one that urges you to learn, to adapt, to kill.

Mason stands, tall and proud, akin to the trees that surround you both. Leaving behind his fishing spot, he's counting on you to spot him, wondering if this time—you'll finally make a move. What other reason would you have to still be lurking about? Surely, you could have just killed him and ran off by now or even just stolen his truck to leave. There's a rustle in the bushes, but he doesn't even turn to check. He knows it isn't you. It's far too obvious, and it's the usual sound of a four-legged creature. Mason lets out a sigh and packs up his fishing gear, heading back towards his cabin. He'll try again tomorrow, he supposes.

His heavy steps trudge against the grass, twigs effortlessly snapping underfoot. He doesn't hide his presence because what's the point if you're just going to avoid him. Even if you were to make a move now, he could easily start to engage you as a hunter should.

Mason's eyes shoot to his left as he hears rapid footsteps heading his way. His brows furrow, wondering if you'd really be so reckless like this. His heart picks up all the same, and he turns his head, but it's not you approaching him. It's a stranger, someone who is not a part of your game. A smaller man clearly disheveled and hurried to run up to Mason. it's possible that he would have called out if he wasn't so out of breath. He waits and lets the stranger approach as they catch themselves.

"Oh, fuck. I thought I was gonna die out here." They huff in relief, bringing a shaky smile to their face. "Thank god, I found you."

He nearly brushes the man off until he hears it. That shift in the forest, one not the typical of flora or fauna.

It's you.

Mason's lips curl up, and the stranger assumes it's for them, but its because he knows why you finally gave yourself away. You still have a soft heart beating in there, and it looks like this is the bait he's been waiting for. He reaches into his supply bag until his hand wraps around his trusty crossbow. A beautiful thing meant for a deadly purpose, funny how that reminds him of you. The stranger's expression falls in dread as they begin to stumble in fear.

"I—I don't—"

"Now this," he raises the bow, taking aim directly between their eyes. "Is the part where you—"

He throws his head back, the whistle of an object moving quickly, alerting him to move. Mason feels something graze the bridge of his nose before a light jolt of pain follows. Both his and the stranger's gaze turn to the small, pointed rock that sticks deep into the tree just inches from him.

Finally.

The stranger runs for his life, falling over himself in an attempt to get away. It's like watching a fawn learning how to run. Blood trickles down his nose, and he wipes it with his fist, prepping his aim once again. The second that Mason pulls the trigger, you shoot right back. His arrow hits its mark, sinking into the stranger's shoulder with a slick thud. Your target lands as well, Mason's hand reaches to cover the fresh wound now resting across his brow bone.

He curses under his breath, but he feels the heat grow in his veins.

You should stay hidden, you know you should, but he's closing in on the stranger, and you can tell he isn't going to last long. With an angered huff, you run out from your spot, and another arrow flies in seconds. Your head lowers, and it slices into your hair, loose strands flying behind you.

"Get down!" Screaming and grabbing onto the stranger's arm, you drag him alongside you.

Mason's laugh sounds through the forest, a chill running through your body. You'd never be finished with this asshole, would you?

The two of you lose him in the undergrowth, but you know it won't be for long. He's got your scent again, and there's no way he's letting you go again—especially not with your new bleeding companion. It's a liability—but he's a person, and you force yourself to remember that. Months—or has it been years?—the time has worn on your mind.

A tug on your arm catches your attention, the stranger looking up at you in fear. It's your job now to take care of him, to make sure he makes it out of Mason's hunt. You've been suffering enough, you can't let him hurt anyone else.

You him give a firm nod. "I got you."

His shoulders lower in relief before the tense at the sound of another shot. There's no time to waste, you had to find shelter, anywhere to hide from Mason. He's aggressive, like a bear in heat, hooked on your return.

You two run and dodge, guiding the stranger in the ways you've learned best deter his tracking.

He's off your trail now, you're sure of it. There's no sign of him anymore, no abnormal silence or distant breaths you've gotten better at listening for. You two are alone, and it's perfect timing, the sun beginning to lower. The sky begins to shift to a heavier purple, a sight that can only be precious in a place like this.

"Let's set up camp here, he usually heads home around this time."

The stranger hums in consent, dropping his things and letting out a deep breath. While he's far from cut out for this sort of life, you've started to get used to it. Though truly, nobody should have to get used to this.

You set up a fire as he rifles through his pockets to pull out a bag of trail mix. He nearly downs the whole thing before pausing and holding the bag out to you. Your eyes focus on the assortment of nuts, raisins, and chocolates. For some reason, you grin at the nostalgia, despite the lack of any happy memories attached to it. You put your hand out, and the stranger fills it part way before finishing the rest.

Seems like you'll have to discuss rationing later.

Once the flame is set, you sit back and once again observe your new companion. He's shaking, and you know it isn't just the cold. The dark look in his eyes tells you everything. It reminds you of you, not so long ago.

You clear your throat. "So, how'd you end up here anyway?"

The stranger shoots up at your words before his eyes flicker as he shuffles through memories.

"I was with my fiance. We we're just—we wanted to go out on a fun little trip before our wedding." The beginnings of joy tease on his lips before the sink back down, heavier than before.

"We wanted time to ourselves. The wedding has been such a hassle to plan. Her mother's very involved."

You clench your fist, swallowing down all the guilt you feel for this man getting in the middle of all this. It's got nothing to do with him, he simply wandered in the wrong place at the wrong time. Now, his life is pretty much over.

No.

You won't let it end like this.

"Well, you're gonna have one killer story to tell at your wedding."

Finally, a proper smile graces his face, and you can't help but feel his hope contagious. His mouth opens to say something before his head rips to the left in a harsh motion. The sound of a vicious crack makes your heart sink to your stomach, thick hands palming either side of his face. You feel vomit rush to the bottom of your throat, but you stifle it along with the tears that beg to fall down your cheeks. Mason lets go of the man, and his body drops to the floor like a sack of rocks. Once a man, a family waiting for him, a future ahead, now cursed to be nothing but another missing poster.

You grit your teeth and reach into the fire pit, grabbing one of the logs. It stings, but you only let the pain fuel you as you swing it as hard as you can against his shoulder. The wood breaks from the impact, and Mason lets out a loud grunt.

Without giving him a second, you throw the piece left in your grip. "Fuck you, fuck—Why!?"

His arm comes up in defense as you already start to make your escape. You don't look back, because you can't. You can't look at the limp corpse of a man you just barely knew, dead because you couldn't protect him. It's your fault, it has to be. That's why you run until your lungs burn as much as your hand does, until your legs are weak and practically useless until Mason is but an afterthought.

Your body collapses, crawling to a fallen tree and laying down. Your hands wrap around your body, pulling your coat closer to you as you lean your head against the dirt. You're no better than him, either by his hand or yours, people come to this forest to die. There's no other way out.

Mason stomps around the forest, scolding himself for being so careless. He got too excited, and now he's shoved you right back into hiding with no sign of you, again. Maybe he should have followed you last night, shot you, or broke a leg. To give himself something to follow.

Tree, tree.

Deer.

Tree, tree.

River.

Tree—

This is pointless.

He lets out a sigh, realizing that he's going to have to try a new strategy if he plans to keep this going. Mason turns on his path and begins to head home. He can take notes on places he's seen you, on what looks disturbed by something of your size. Trying to find you by smell became much harder the longer you stayed here. You both smelled like the forest.

He laughs to himself, warmth shifting to his cheeks.

Mason nudges the cabin door open with his shoulder, looking over his less impressive kills. They meant something to him once, but now all of them have grown so dull in the face of you. You're so much more than some prize to be mounted on his wall. However, the thought of pinning you against one isn't an idea he's as opposed to.

He frowns, dropping his tools onto a nearby shelf. The challenge is what he wants, but he hopes it isn't always going to be like this with you now. All this hiding and waiting defeats the purpose, he might as well be fishing. His shoulders crack as he rolls them back, accompanying a hefty groan.

It's far from over, he reminds himself as he shuffles off his coat. He just has to learn from you all over again. You've slipped once, and you'll slip again.

Mason pulls the large fur blanket over his body, eyes fluttering towards sleep. He dreams about nothing but a silent darkness or on some nights—nothing but you.

A creak pulls his mind from rest, his eyes not adjusting to the dark quick enough. His movements are sluggish as he tries to sit up. He's halted by a blade pointing downwards just over his heart. The feeling of your weight on top of him is nearly enough for him to fall back into a comfortable sleep. You're not as keen on the idea as you press the knife harder against his skin, beginning to break it.

"So, what now?" Mason grins, his voice gravelly from exhaustion. "You gonna finish the job this time?"

Your scowl trembles in anger, your whole body shaking with it. An embodiment of hate, your eyes begin to wet from the overwhelming emotion. Yet all he can do is look upon you like you're the stars painted in the sky, and it urks you. It leaves a deep and aching pain in your abdomen.

The knife pushes further down, but the feeling of it beginning to sink in stops you. You can feel his pulse through the blade, pounding against your trembling palms.

He chuckles in endearment, the bastard. "Nah, you're not gonna do it."

You want to. You want to kill him like he did that man. You never even got his fucking name.

"You ain't no killer."

Why is that such a bad thing?

His hand wraps around yours, shrouding it in his calloused skin. "But I can fix that for you, wildcat."

Your grip grows tighter, eyes hiding from his. You force down a heavy swallow, wishing you would just pierce this monsters heart and rid the world of one more evil.

You're soft. For fuck's sake, you're soft.

Tears finally fall as you roar at him like the beast you so desperately wish you were. Even now, as you cry, droplets hitting his collarbone, you never release the rage in your stare.

The scream steals breath from you, panting heavily. "Fuck you.."

"I—I hate you."

He nods, his free hand moving behind your head to brush down your hair and bring you closer. Your nose scrunches in a moment of confusion, but the nearer you get, the more you understand. His lips move against yours before they push harder. You retaliate, tilting your head as you find yourself melting into his form. He's so warm, and it's so, so cold out there.

Maybe, if you could just stay here. Just for a little—

Mason tosses the knife to the ground, placing a hand on your waist before he shifts you onto your side.

One arm raises the covers over his shoulder, bringing you in as he whispers against your neck. "Now, how's about you show me them claws one more time."

taglist - @twentytomidnight