The Mind Hunt

CW: Animal cruelty, mental health

I lost the trail, is what I came to realize as I walked deeper and deeper into the woods. I held my rifle tightly in my numb hand as the cold wind whipped my fingers and cheeks raw. The cold was biting, penetrating through every layer of my clothes, as I trudged on the thin wet layer of snow. The trees were naked, their branches so pathetically skinny and bare! I could smell and taste the arrival of winter in the air. An overwhelming feel of death and sterility surrounded me. The whiteness of the snow was almost blinding. I looked down at the snaggled roots piercing through the soil, choking one another. Carcasses of tree stumps littered the ground, their empty shells filled with decaying moss. I lowered myself and squeezed the soggy brown moss in my hands, small woodlice and black juice running down my fingers. Oh how soft and gentle it felt against my sore hands! The moss gave way like a scalp beneath my fingers, spongy and warm, as though something underneath were still alive. I walked carefully, my boots crunching over brittle sticks and leaving a trail of broken tree bones behind me. 

I had set out early that morning. It had been much too long since I had set out to kill. The morning sky was covered with heavy grey clouds almost begging to release the water held inside of them. A slight haze carefully skimmed the top of the trail allowing for a limited view of what lay ahead of me. Large droplets were bursting open, their wetness dripping onto old cobwebs spread across tree branches. I walked onto the beaten path until I reached a clearing where the trees parted their branches welcoming the sky. The rays of sun pierced ever so slightly through the heavy clouds allowing for a clear view. My eyes were sharp and my index finger ready at the sight of any movement. Patience. The more patient the man the better the catch. Most rush, too hasty in their actions. I do not. I take my time, carefully choosing my kill and the best moment to attack for the bullet to hit his frail body so as to keep it as intact as possible. I must have waited no less than an hour before seeing the slightest movement. It was quick, fleeting, and swift. I could see his small eyes and sleek neck resting on his broad shoulders. His brown hair was spread thickly across his body. He looked measly and miserable. He didn’t have the slightest idea somebody was watching him. Ha! If only he knew these were his last moments! I shut my left eye aiming for the weakest spot and lowest impact area, right between the skull and the first cervical vertebrae. I could faintly hear the weak throb of his blood pumping and streaming out of his aorta. Thump, thump, thump. His pulse quickened. He could sense he was being watched. Thump, thump, thump. I clutched the trigger with my index finger and pushed it. Bam! The bullet sliced through the air lodging itself straight into his neck. He landed with a loud thud on the ground. I could hear the crunch of his bones from the abrupt impact.  

I stared down at the hollow creature, its neck gently leaking brown blood onto the bird’s feathers. I caressed his blood-slick coat licking my lips in contentment at the sight of his limp withered remains. I lowered my lips onto the wound, pushing my tongue inside savouring its sharp iron taste.  

I suddenly felt my hands pulsing with a sweltering heat that spread throughout the entirety of my body. I could hear a gentle hum. I snapped my head back suddenly aware of what was surrounding me. The sound was faint, almost non-existent yet I could feel the thrumming echoing inside of me. It was almost akin to the creature’s heartbeat but sharper and more pronounced. I stepped away from the bird, my ears sharp and attentive.  

I glanced around. The fog rolled in thick, smothering the lifeless trees and trail in an impenetrable white, clammy sweat rising from the earth. I couldn’t see into the distance anymore. All I could see was the searing surgical whiteness from the snow, its paleness penetrating through the fog. The air smelled of the intoxicating cleanliness of bleach, burning my nostrils. I tried to walk towards the direction I felt was right. The humming sound was suddenly getting louder. It seemed to resonate and rumble into the depths of the forest. My brain felt scrambled and frantic. Someone was out there. This sound was certainly not coming from me. My pace quickened, my calves tightening from the rapid walk. I stumbled over the dead peeling flesh of a tree as I jerked my head back trying to see if anyone was following me. I knew there was something. The hum was growing to a deafening level. The hum was piercing through every part of my head at a sickening volume.  

I couldn’t take it anymore. Taunting me! Leering at me! Someone was watching me and making me sick! My hair stood sharp at the back of my neck, a heavy feeling of dread washed over me making my skin itching with the feeling of a thousand thin spider legs crawling all over my body. The fluorescent hum seeped deeper and deeper into me, permeating my every part. My heart was racing faster and faster. Thump, thump, thump. I couldn’t bear it anymore. I dropped to my knees, my hands covering my ears, and my eyes squeezed shut. Please, please, please make it stop. I’m begging you please!  

A sharp, sudden needle-thin sting stabbed my forearm. The hum stopped. Silence. Then a beep. The fog thinned out into a ceiling, flat, white, seamless. Velcro cuffs held my wrists. An apathetic voice said, “Sedative’s in. He’s calming down.” Gloved fingers lifted my arm. I whispered, “Did I get him?” Nobody answered. They kept writing on their notepad.