Hunter

 Lesezeit: 9 Minuten;

»So this is it?,« you ask, looking up to the impenetrable looking wall of trees sighing softly in the wind before you. 

Your guide nods, anxious to get his pay and then get away from whatever monsters lurk between the shadows. 

Absently you throw him your purse with the prize you promised, then you stalk towards the forest. 

»Are you sure about this?,« the squeaky voice of your guide asks behind you. »Most don’t return. And those who do are changed forever, and not for the better. I know the reward sounds tempting, but the prize…« he trails off, as you walk on, his words not moving you. 

»I have to do this. I’m sorry.« 

»Don’t be. It’s your funeral,« the guide scoffs, then he ultimately turns around and heads off down the hill into the sunset.

You, however, take a deep breath and take a step between the groaning trunks of the highest trees you’ve ever seen. Normally, you wouldn’t have dared take a step in a forest like this with the sun so close to setting, but this time, you have no choice.

The monster you’re hunting only ever comes out at night. 

As soon as you’re completely enveloped by the forest, the sighing in the leaves grows louder, nearer. 

You try not to let it affect you as you take your bow from your shoulder and nock the string to the weapon. Your arrows are neatly stacked into the quiver on your back. Your hunting knife is in its sheath tied to your thigh. You’re as ready as you’re ever going to be. Still, you can’t shake the uncomfortable feeling that’s been building in your chest ever since you first gazed at the treetops from the crest of the hill. But you try not to let it affect you. You know you have to do this. It’s either this, or live on like you have for the past months and years and you know that that’s not an option. 

There’s no going back now anyway. 

And so, you let your instincts take over. You’re searching for a beast with sharp claws, so sharp they can tear out a heart at any given moment. A beast with teeth that will wrap themselves around your throat till you choke. A beast that will kill you if you don’t kill it first. 

A beast like that has to leave some trails. 

In the first hours underneath the dark and penetrating trees, you find nothing, but you’re not letting that drag you down. You have the patience of a hunter. The sun has set and the stars replaced its place in the sky when you first find a small stream where the beast probably goes to still its unquenchable thirst. On the muddy shore is where you first see its tracks. They’re smaller than you’d have expected, but then, you should have known better than to assume. The worst monsters aren’t always the ones that are the easiest to spot. In truth, this beast has been invisible to most throughout your entire life. Only in this forest it is going to take shape and form. A shape and form for you to kill. 

You follow the tracks, that aren’t as fresh as you’d hoped, and ultimately, you lose the creature’s path entirely. You’re about to trace your own footprints back to the stream when you hear something. 

You raise your head, staying still as a stone. There! A soft sound, almost not to be made out through the groaning and sighing of the forest around you. 

Silent, ever so silent, you make your way towards the noise. It sounds a bit like a wounded animal, but you can’t be sure. The forest is completely dark by now, the only light to see by is obscured by the ceiling of leaves high above. 

But you trust your instincts, your ears and your sense of the trees around you. This is how you reach the source of the sound. 

Standing still, you hide behind a tree, making sure the wind is blowing your betraying scent away from the creature. 

Then you take a deep breath and turn to see. 

It looks like no beast you’ve ever seen before, but also strangely familiar. Its shapes blur in and out of appearance, sometimes looking like a bear, sometimes almost resembling a deer. It’s lying in the crest of the roots of a large tree, not moving save for the heaving of its chest. 

Your heart beating fast, your breath shaking, you pull an arrow out of your quiver and nock it to the bowstring. 

You breathe out, calming the slight trembling in your fingers, that would cause the arrow to falter. Then you aim at the creature’s heart. And hear the noise again. 

Now you can’t deny it: It’s the sound of a creature in pain. You want to let loose, but suddenly, your fingers can’t move. All you can do is stare at the creature that’s been living inside you for so long. 

Your anger. Your pain. 

Taking shape in this particular forest for you to hunt down and kill.

The monster that has been living inside you all these years, making you cruel and hurt and hateful. 

Lying there. 

Broken. 

You lower your bow. 

Carefully, you approach the animal. As you get closer, you can see that it’s not actually sleeping. It’s just lying there, defeated. Crying.   

Something inside you tears apart as you see the creature like this. You had always thought of your anger as a monster, as a part of you that had to be wiped out so that you could be the stronger for it. But it is the other way round. Your anger was born out of pain, and here you can see it in its purest form. You don’t have to kill that part of you to be stronger.

You need to heal it. 

Slowly, you place your bow and arrow on the ground. You’re close to the creature now. Sinking to your knees beside it, you stretch out your hand. It’s trembling. Somehow, this is harder than releasing the arrow. But it is the right thing. 

Your fingers touch the animal’s fur, and with your touch, its shape becomes more real. It truly is a bear, though smaller, and the fur as well as the face resemble a deer’s. 

The creature is curled up, but at your touch, it raises its head and for a moment, you can’t breathe. Those eyes. The creature couldn’t be more different from you, but those eyes are yours. It’s your pain you see inside them. Your soul. 

Damn it. How could you have ever thought that you’d be able to kill it? To kill a part of you? 

Gently, you stroke the beast’s fur. You’re still hesitant towards it, but you no longer fear it. Because in those eyes, there isn’t just pain.

There’s also rage.

A rage so deep, so terrible, you’re sure the animal could kill you if it wanted to. 

But then — you must appear to the animal as it does to you. 

Broken. Hurt. In need of help. 

You could both kill each other. 

But you choose not to. 

Because you are the same. 

You don’t need to kill each other to live. 

You need to help the other heal.

You need to accept the beast, the anger, the pain, as a part of you. Killing wasn’t letting go. Walking away wasn’t letting go. Letting go was a fantasy. You couldn’t make undone what had been done to you. But you could move from there. Try to heal. 

And so, you put your arms around the animal and with your touch, it truly manifests and clings to you. 

For the first time in your live, you accept your anger as a product of pain. 

You accept the anger as a part of you. 

And you’re all the stronger for it. 

Julia

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