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THE THRILL OF THE HUNT
‘CURIOSITY’ – BRYCE SAVAGE
HATCHET
The thrill courses through me as I chase her through the moonlit forest. Her scent lingers in the air, a tantalising mixture of fear and sweat, drawing me closer with each step. It’s instinct, a predatory drive that courses through my veins, and it sends shivers of anticipation down my spine.
The moonlight filters through the dense canopy above, casting elongated shadows that dance around me as I navigate the treacherous terrain. My senses are heightened, attuned to every sound, every movement in the woods. Attuned entirely to her.
Her heartbeat thunders in my ears, a rhythmic drumbeat that guides me toward my prey.
She darts between trees, her movements agile and unpredictable, but I am relentless, a shadowy spectre that pursues her with unyielding determination. The thrill of the hunt pulses through me, a dark ecstasy that I cannot deny.
I can hear her laboured breaths, the quickening cadence of her panic. It fuels my desire, my need to capture her, to make her mine in this twisted game I play.
Her footfalls on the forest floor are erratic, the twigs and leaves beneath her feet betraying her path.
As I close in on her, I catch a glimpse of her figure ahead, a fleeting phantom in the moonlight. Her scent grows stronger, an intoxicating blend of vulnerability and desperation that ignites the primal beast within me.
The chase continues, a macabre dance between predator and prey. I can almost taste the fear that emanates from her, feel the adrenaline rushing through her body. With each passing moment, I draw closer, closing the gap between us, until I can hear the frantic rhythm of her heartbeat, until I can almost reach out and claim her as my own.
And each time it happens, each moment she’s a hair’s breadth away from me, I let her go. Because I never want this chase, this exquisite torture, to end.
The forest becomes my dark and twisted playground, a realm where the boundaries between reality and madness blur. I am consumed by the thrill of the hunt, the intoxication of the chase, as I stalk her through the moonlit night, my senses alive with the promise of capturing my prey.
As I chase her, the memory of our earlier encounter lingers in my mind like a dark stain on pristine sheets. The kiss, fierce and unexpected, still haunts me, a tantalising taste of something I’ve longed for way too long.
For months, I’ve watched her from the shadows, an elusive prey that I could never quite garner the courage to capture. She has been my obsession, a riddle I was determined to solve. But tonight, something shifted, and I finally knew I could wait no longer. I had to have a taste of her, and that kiss was both electrifying and sinister.
I can never let her go now.
The memory of her soft lips against mine, her breathless gasps, and the mingling of her fear and desire fills my thoughts as I pursue her. It’s a sensation I can’t shake, a craving that has only grown more intense with each passing moment.
I wonder if she feels it too—the twisted allure of our forbidden connection. The forest, our battleground, seems to amplify the urgency of our pursuit, as if it is a stage set for a dark and forbidden romance.
As I close in on her, I can’t help but relish the torment I’ve put her through, the mixture of terror and arousal that’s flooding her system. She is no longer just my prey; she is a participant in our deadly game, a willing accomplice in this dance of predator and prey.
The moonlight bathes the forest in an eerie glow, casting a surreal light on our twisted encounter. I can almost taste the fear and desire that emanate from her, and it only fuels my determination to capture her, to make her mine in every sense of the word.
The chase continues, but now it’s different. It’s charged with the knowledge that we’ve crossed a line, that we’ve tasted the forbidden fruit of our desires.
The primal urges within me surge like a wildfire as I stalk her through the darkness. The taste of her, that electrifying kiss, has awakened something raw and savage deep within me. It’s as if a dormant beast has been unleashed, and it hungers for more.
My senses are ablaze, every detail of our chase heightened to a fever pitch. Her scent lingers in the air like an intoxicating perfume, driving my instincts wild. I can feel the heat emanating from her body, the pulse of her racing heart, and it’s a siren’s call that I cannot resist.
With each step, the boundaries between predator and prey blur further, until I can no longer distinguish between them. My need to make her mine has me in chains, making me question if I’m the hunter or the hunted. I’m as much hers, her victim, as she is mine. She has me captured and ensnared in the trap she set for me. The chase has become a frenzied dance, a primal courtship of desire and danger. My pulse races in time with hers, and I can taste the anticipation, the need that hangs in the air like a palpable force.
As I close in on her, I’m driven by an insatiable hunger, a need to possess her in ways that transcend the physical. It’s a dark and twisted desire, one that thrives on the fear and vulnerability of our game. I can almost hear the pounding of her heart, the rush of blood in her veins, and it fuels the fire within me.
The moonlight casts eerie, shifting shadows that dance around us, a reflection of the primal forces at play. Every instinct within me demands that I capture her, claim her as my own, and sate the hunger that gnaws at my very soul.
Our chase continues, a savage, relentless pursuit that defies reason and morality. I’m almost done. The need to have her overriding my desire to draw out the chase. The primal urges inside me become a driving force, propelling me toward a climax that promises to be as dark and twisted as the night itself.
She’s tiring now, falling behind so that my breath kisses the back of her neck. I’m so close now. To capturing her. To claiming my prize.
The triumphant thought spurs me on, and I lunge forward, locking my arms around her waist and sending us both crashing to the ground. I use my arms to brace her fall and prevent my body from crushing her, but she still scrapes the forest floor and she cries out.
She yells and struggles against my hold, but it’s pointless and a waste of the energy she’s going to need to keep up with me now that I have her. She doesn’t know how long I’ve waited for this. Hungered for it. Like a man possessed, obsessed, I have no intention of rushing my devourment of her.
