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            D  a  m  n  e  d     F  u  c  k  i  n  g     S  h  i  t

                                  - Presents -

                              Issue #49
                              Date: 3/12/95
                              Title: The Hunt
                              Author: Demntia Praecox


[Note from AD: Well its once again been forever since DFS has had a new
release.  Well damnit, someone write for me!  I have NO TIME to write and I
finally got something so I'm going to publish it!  So here it is!  I dunno,
don't worry, your favorite k-rad 'zine <or something> will maybe publish
something more soon.  Who knows.  Well, with a big DFS "FUCK YOU!", here comes
The Hunt.]


                            The Hunt

                       by Dementia Praecox


                               One
                              -----

     Although they know it not, these few are destined for a
painful, appalling death.  A death deserved, however, by defilers
of the forest.  They have come here, perhaps by accident, but they
will never live to regret their terrible mistake.  For the Forest
Demon has now become aware of their presence in his domain.
     I have lived here always, and I will always live here, in the
great forest.  My function is to keep those who would enter and
defile this great place, which stood here even before me, from
achieving their goals.  I have never failed.  This function I have
known since my first moments of awareness in this life, though it
has never been explained to me.  This and other secrets have come
to me purely instinctively.
     I have often killed before, to protect this great place.  When
I have defeated my enemies, I take the victim's bodies, twisted
parodies of their former selves, and display them at the forest's
edge.  My symbol is carved plainly in their flesh.  Eventually,
other people come to collect the remains.  These people are never
touched, however.  They are different from the violators of the
forest.  They are a tribal people, their knowledge passed through
the generations, and they know their place when dealing with me and
the forest.  It is from these people that I gained the name of "the
Forest Demon".  Beyond this title, I am nameless and anonymous.
     These invaders of the forest, however, are a different matter
altogether.  They serve no purpose in life.  They are of no tribe.
These people are mere pleasure-seekers, defilers.  And they have
now crossed over into my territory.  For this, they shall be
punished.  For this, they shall pay.  They will ALL pay.
     A deep rage burns within me, gnawing, searing.  It threatens
to explode forth, in an unstoppable torrent of raw anger and primal
savagery.  But through the red haze of hatred comes a single
thought of restraint.  Now is not yet the time.  With this
realization, there comes a relaxation, and a subsiding of the
anger, the hate, the pain.  However, with this relaxation there is
no forgiving, and no forgetting.  All of them, every single one,
will be made to give their penance when the time comes.  This I
know.
     But for now, I wait.  Settling back against a tree, I watch
over the hated trespassers, keeping a silent vigil over them.
Awaiting the hour of reprisal.  Their time slips away.


                               Two
                              -----

     The next day, the brilliant sun rises anew, its warmth bathing
the land in light.  In the forest, however, the great trees block
out this light, leaving wood cold and shadowed.  An ominous
warning.
     From the campsite below, a stirring signals me to the
awakening of the damned below.  As I watch from high above in the
trees, they pack up their belongings.  They are four in number, two
females and two males.  They speak cheerfully back and forth to
each other as they prepare to depart.  Their path, however, leads
them deeper into the forest, toward their own deaths.  So be it.
The die is cast, their fate is sealed.  Now is the time.  The hunt
begins.
     At a distance, I follow them through the trees, until their
path is determined for sure.  They walk in single file, with one of
the females being the last in line.  Victim number one.
     I race past them from at a distance, quickly and quietly.
Although they don't notice me, I know their location at all times,
even without my eyes upon them.  This is due to my far more
superior powers of hearing and smell.  When I am far enough ahead
of them, I turn and duck behind a tree, into some light foliage.
Then, I wait.
     Almost a minute later, the first of them arrives.  At this
distance, I can hear every step, every breath, every noise that
escapes their lips.  On the air is the scent of their sweat, as it
begins to form on their bodies.
     The first male walks past me, making an alarming amount of
noise, even for one of his kind.  Then, a female.  Then another
male.  My presence goes undetected.  Finally, they prey approaches.
     As she starts to pass, my hand darts out and clamps over her
mouth, and I pull her in my direction.  Once we are out of sight of
the others, one of my claws slides through her throat, silencing
her by severing her vocal cords, and also opening an unstoppable
river of blood.  She struggles feebly, but it is of no use.  My
mouth yawns open over the wound, and her lifesblood pours down my
throat.  Warm, tangy, addictive.
     Gradually the pounding of her pulse slows to a dull murmur,
and her body relaxes.  Her death comes slowly.  Now she will serve
another purpose.  Her remains are pulled with me up into the
treetops.
     By now, the others in her group have realized her absence, and
are out in the forest searching for her.  She will not be found,
however, until it is my choice.  They will find her soon enough.
Her clothes are torn up, and cast aside.  Using one claw, I carve
my symbol into her back, marking her as my kill.  The deep
scratches draw no blood from her lifeless body, however.  There is
none left to give.
     Once this task is complete, I gather some vine from the
surrounding trees.  Pulling off a fairly long length, I secure one
end to one of her cold, dead ankles, while the other is tied to the
branch on which I now stand.  After everything is secure, her body
is unceremoniously dumped from the tree.  I then move to another
tree to watch, and to wait.
     The pendulum of her body swings precariously back and  forth,
about three feet off of the ground.  Her arms are outstretched
toward the ground, her mouth is open in a final, silent scream.
Gradually, the swinging slows, then stops.  Now, one of the others
is approaching.  The screams begin.


                              Three
                             -------

     Midday.  The doomed have apparently now decided to flee this
place.  There is no escape, however.  They set off at a quick
place, through the ancient trees.  It soon becomes evident,
however, that they know not the way from which they came.  Their
indecision makes them falter.  The time comes once more.  The hunt
begins anew.
     A new development.  The two males have now begun to argue,
apparently about which way it is that they are supposed to go.  The
argument becomes more heated.  In anger, one of the males storms
away from the party.  How unfortunate.
     I pursue him silently for a time before the strike is made.
I can sense his anger, his frustration.  But their is another
feeling.  Fear.  Delicious fear.  Now, I am on him.
     A quick and savage blow to his right temple removes him from
consciousness.  I work quickly, to complete my task before the
young victim returns to this world.  His arms are secured around a
tree, with him facing outward.  The knots are checked again for
strength.  Perfect.
     A couple of slaps to the face rouses him once more.  Lifting
his head groggily, his eyes bring my form into their view.  His
breath now catches within his throat.  His lips move, but no words
are formed, no sound emanates from him other than a quiet kind of
gasping.  His bladder lets go.  It is time now, time for the kill.
     My hands grasp each side of his head in an unbreakable grip.
He whimpers his fear, silently begging for mercy on my part.  There
is no mercy here, in the forest.  Kill or be killed.  I begin to
force his head slowly to the right.  Now, the screams begin as the
sensation of pain cuts through the numbing haze of his fear.
Farther to the right.  He strains will all his might to the left in
a futile effort to stop me.  There is no stopping me.  Popping
sounds erupt from the back of his neck.  He screams one final time
in desperation and agony.  Then, with a final wrenching "CRACK", he
is no more.  His scream echoes and dies.
     With a quick slash of a claw through his abdomen, his insides
fall into my waiting hands, steaming in the cold forest air.  A
satisfying treat for my burning hunger.  The taste draws me in, and
I am lost from the world in delight for a few moments.  Then, with
a start, I realize that the others have almost arrived, having
heard the final scream of torment which issued from the male's
throat.  No danger however, for they have been detected in time.
I quickly snatch up the last few sections of digestive tract and
rush of into the trees.  When they arrive upon the gruesomely
macabre scene, their shrieks of terror announce their presence to
everything within a mile's radius.


                              Four
                             ------

     Late afternoon approaches.  The time, I decide, has now come
to complete that which I have started.  It is time to complete the
hunt.  These next two shall be taken down as one.
     The prey has fled steadily in one direction for the past few
hours.  I keep a close watch upon them from my own trailing route,
invisible to their pitifully weak eyes.  I know that they have been
running so hard now that they must either slow down or die, their
unfit bodies collapsing from exhaustion.  Apparently, they realize
this too, and the first option appeals more to them than the
second.  Their running pace gradually slows to a walk.  However, in
slowing, they have sealed their own fate.  My tongue runs over my
lips in delicious anticipation of the approaching double-kill.
     The male comes abruptly to a halt, putting out his arm to stop
the female.  They strain their ears, desperately listening for any
impending danger.  The male thinks he has heard something.  He
didn't.  His fear is making him jittery, making him hear things
that aren't really there.  Yet.  His dread is plain.  I can see it
in his actions.  I can smell it, even at this distance.
     Now.  My leap from the trees  brings me within range of them
both.  My first strike sends the female violently to the ground,
where she is pinned down by my foot.  She lies there, stunned, not
registering what is occurring.  Simultaneously, I grab the male by
the throat, and squeeze.  He struggles briefly, but gradually loses
consciousness.
     The male is picked up and held in my arms, above the now-
struggling female.  The entire front of his shirt is ripped from
his body.  One claw tears into his abdomen and slides sideways,
creating a vicious wound.  He regains consciousness only to gaze in
dulled horror at his insides dripping from this atrocious new
cavity in his body.  The female screams and shudders in horror as
his blood and other internal fluids spill out from him and onto
her, encasing her in a layer of gore.
     Soon the male has breathed his last.  He hangs limply within
my grasp.  With a quick shrug of my arms, he is cast from me.  He
falls to the ground and lies there, motionless.
     The female, meanwhile, appears to have entered a state of
shock, in her panic.  I remove my foot from her body, and she only
lies there, shivering.  She is the last survivor of the doomed
party.  For now, she will be left alone.
     I set out to retrieve the other two bodies.  My symbol is
carefully carved into the backs of the males.  They are dragged
with me, back to the sight of the latest kill.  The female sits
within the middle of the clearing, staring into the forest.  She
shudders over and over.  Her lip quivers incessantly.  Her mind has
shattered.
     There is no use for her now, besides that of food.  Survival
of the fittest.  She doesn't even move when my jaws clamp over her
neck.  When my teeth dig lightly in, releasing small trickles of
blood down her neck.  We are joined, if only for a second.  With a
violent shaking of my head, both the link and her lifeline are
severed, never to be mended.  She lies limply upon the ground.  The
last victim, the last defiler.
     The forest has once again regained its purity.  No more
defilers exist within the forest's walls, at least for now.  But,
I will be here when they next arrive.  Always watching.  Always
waiting.  Always safeguarding the pristine purity of the forest.
Always keeping the silent vigil.


                             The End

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