The Gentiles

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The Hunt

Her mouth was sealed shut, covered by two hands.

Sweat dribbled down the side of her face from her scalp, sliding down to a drip on her pointy chin.

The rabbit had been in the dark for what seemed like forever, but she couldn’t risk making any move nor sound. The wolf promised to be as merciless as he could once he found her.

If he finds her.

Her only hope lies on the fox, who knew her better than anyone else, to be the first one to discover her location.

She thought he would have found her by now, but she guesses she hid really well for him to be still be searching.

It was simple, really.

The rabbit knew that the fox would try and think like her, so she crossed out the places he’d assume she’ll chose as a hiding spot.

Trick the sly fox.

That was her strategy.

As for the deceptive fox… The rabbit hasn’t got the slightest idea how to evade him. She only hoped that he didn’t think her stupid enough to choose a spot that was so blatantly obvious.

Because that’s exactly what she did.

The loud crash that came from the outside forced a shrill scream out of her mouth. The knob was turned, the door squeaked open and quietly slammed shut.

Followed by the soft click of the lock.

No.

Had she thought wrong of the wolf?

Did the fox figure out her plan?

The trepidation rooting from her pounding heart presents two actions: fight or flight.

There was no rule about being seen. It was just a premeditation that leads to the ultimate goal. It was decided by both the fox and the wolf, agreed by the rabbit only because she was made to believe that there was no other choice.

Finding her be damned, the one who takes the first bite will be crowned the winner.

Trapped and out of her mind’s wit’s, the rabbit made a decision purely based on her most primal instincts.

Footsteps creaked against the hardwood floor, shadows of which she could hardly follow with the growing dim of the dark.

The game had begun in the middle of a beautiful spring afternoon.

It is early in the evening now.

The rabbit survived until this very moment.

The predator stopped right at where her head is. One foot taps impatiently.

He knows she’s under.

Terrified.

Cornered.

At his mercy.

No matter who awaits the rabbit, she could only do one thing that will give her even the barest minimum amount of success.

Staying still and waiting for her doom to approach her was not an option. It was an evitable road towards her demise.

Fighting would deem useless since her physical strength would never ever compare to her hunters.

Running away was futile since she would never escape either of the two. She would only get caught in the end and why prolong the agony?

Torn between these choices that would determine her life or death, the rabbit bravely slid downwards, the thick, dusty sheets of the old mattress glides across her back.

Hands and feet stiff from keeping a stagnant position for quite too long, the rabbit had no plans on escaping. She didn’t plan to assault her assaulter, either.

It’s going to work. Right?

It had to.

The rabbit stood up, opened her small, bow-shaped lips and start negotiating.

Pretending to listen to the rest of the white rabbit’s proposition, the predator eyed her small, trembling form, basking in the victory that is definitely his to claim.

Yes, he loves the chase, but nothing can compare to the sweet delicacy which is his prize. His prey has come to reach that realization, too, he observed, as she slowly lost the fight in her melodious voice.

It took him a while and he wasn’t proud of that, to get in the head of the tricky bunny and realize where her mind is going all along.

He’d forever admire her for her creativity, but this game is more than who would have a taste first.

This competition that had started he can’t remember when, with his then best friend turned rival, had been going on for far longer than he would have anticipated.

The passive-aggressive jibes, the cutting meaning behind trivial words.

Getting to the rabbit first would prove something to both of the beasts.

And she has no idea what fate awaits her.

Well, time to devour that forbidden fruit.

She’s wrong.

The rabbit kept on babbling still. She could almost see the scenario that would supersede her pathetic little speech.

All too late, she realized that she should have run.

Or kept hidden.

Or just plain surrender.

Not make a mockery out of herself as the apex predator was clearly only letting her run her mouth for his own entertainment as he made fun of her misery.

Why did she ever think that she could trust him?

All’s fair in love and war, and she just had been betrayed.

Her fault, really, for choosing to believe in the damnest of the damned.

But she couldn’t stop. Even as she stammers and trip over her words, she couldn’t stop.

Is this what desperation is?

Her lithe legs slowly, unconsciously, brought her closer to the door. Slowly. Slowly. One excruciating sweep of a foot at a time.

Of course, he notices. He decides to play her game. He loves games, especially one where he is sure to win.

With her back on the door, the rabbit was closer to her chance at freedom. Call on to the other prey and maybe he’ll take mercy on her.

Maybe.

She doesn’t know what was real and what isn’t anymore, but she wasn’t about to find out trapped in a room with no exit.

Turning the lock, the rabbit thought she was given a respite. Or perhaps just a few seconds of being ahead before the chase.

Her words had long since trailed off, her heavy breathing the only sound coming from her quivering lips.

As quick as her petite arms could, she opened the door and bursts out of the cage.

Only to land on a pair of burly arms.

“Well, well, well,” the other hunter grumbled. “I caught you first.”




I would like to say thank you to @elaheas and @HeatherE24 for commenting and engaging in my story 🥰🥰
Yours,
Ama
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