ENGAGE ON HIVE: THE LAST HUNT|STORY

in GEMS4 years ago

One of the hobbies I love the most is literary writing. I love her! Seriously LOL. Every moment my imagination gives me an idea to create a story or poem, or even to write about reflections on life or about science and engineering. But we always tend to follow a single path among so many paths, and I tend to relate fiction inspired by crude real-life situations, those stories that speak of the human side... of situations more focused on the nature of our society.

That is why today, dear HIVE community, as part of the POSTING INITIATIVE promoted by @galenkp, I will share a story inspired by a topic that is taboo for many, but that without a doubt has caused a terrible evil to our human nature. . Many times we fear monsters, those terrifying beings that torment us in nightmares. But do we really know what a monster is? Many times those terrifying beasts are closer than we think, stalking us without realizing it.

Now I leave you with the story, hoping you enjoy it and reflect on it a lot.



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Image taken from PIXABAY and edited with Photoshop CS6

Hunting trophies... Why do they judge me? They are only embalmed heads, remains of stiff animals in their suffering... like me. Why did you abandon me, Grandma? Why did you leave me as fresh meat for the beast? The sarcophagus on the table doesn't sit well with you, nor do the candles around it. The yellow dress highlights your stitched lips. Your half-open white eyes urge me to be a brave girl, even though you never were.

I hear your voice from beyond, is it just my imagination? "Aim at the heart" you whisper through the gloom of this spacious and not at all comforting room. The chess-shaped ceramics also recommend it to me, and also the bloody eyes on the heads of the animals surrounding the shotgun on the wall.

The day is still looming grandmother, and the beast watches me closely. The gray of the rain hits the window in front of your coffin. Beyond the window pane the branches of the forest call me with clawed branches; they want me to escape, to leave you in your wake. I can't, lifeguard plants! Get away with your attempts to save me. Today I will test the skills you taught me, Grandma. I will do what you were not able to do.

I'm in front of you, shotgun of destiny. Your trigger will free me forever from the terrible evil that lurks in my body. I'm going to take it, Grandma, with your dead permission. You were a teacher shooting bullets at the most cunning deer from unimaginable distances. I hope I inherited your pulse and you’re precision. If I fail, the beast will drag me into its jaws. My trembling hand goes in search of you, prey hunter weapon. I will be the last of the lineage to squeeze your handle ... I will end the lineage that condemned my sisters to the pits of the underworld. There will be no more suffering for the next offspring of my blood!

Something squeezes my shoulder with dubious affection. It's him... it's the beast. You pull me closer to your evening gown and force my nose to sink into your red tie that smells like old bugs. It is a hug with double intention. You slide one of your hands down my back slowly, but I admit you know where to stop. With the other fingers you massage my black hair; and I think you've breathed in its smell of fear. I close my eyelashes tight. I refuse to look at that scratchy white beard and that jackal face of yours. Your eyes shine, I can sense it.

-Go back to your room dear granddaughter. –You say chewing something… I think its tobacco- Let the dead rest.

I walk away without looking at you, prey to uncertainty. I still hear your deceased whispers grandmother, but I must change my plans... the beast knows that I am up to something. I climb the stairs that seem to laugh at me amid their screams. I hear from afar that he closes your coffin great mother; the beast knows that even though you are dead you can watch us. I lock the door to my room and arm myself with a heavy glass statuette; it is not much, but if you try to pass, beast, I will blow it in your head.

The bed is stiffer than before. The mirror is dirtier and more distorted. I see that through the world of reflection you sneak into my dimension, grandmother. I only see your silhouette, you are a faceless ghost. "Aim at the heart" you repeat between broken agonies. You have to suffer for eternity that will be your punishment. You told me that yourself when we were hunting. You had allowed the beast to kill your daughter and her husband, only to take control of the granddaughters. They disappeared when they stepped on the spring of puberty. They failed, they weren't capable, and neither were you. Now you leave me this burden, this weight, this suffering.

You greet me bitter, night of the dead. The curtains blow against me the breeze that wind through the window. In the now night forest, yellow eyes peer out smiling. If I don't move soon I will be the prey. The beast hunts at night, but thanks to you grandmother I hunt at all times. I put the mourning dress aside and cover myself with the clothes of the improvised assassins. I am ready to kill or be killed. Then the beast knocks on my door, ready to trick me.

-Dear granddaughter, open up, I'll sing you a nice song so you can fall asleep.

I don't answer you, but you keep knocking on the door, and you increase the intensity of the knocks. In an instant you stop, and I approach, with the statuette in my hand, to confirm that you are gone. My right ear feels the cold wood and the edge of the knife that goes through it to cut it. I step back as fiery blood permeates the dusty floor. Are you trying to break down the door? Rather you shot her down. Thank goodness I was smart enough to greet you by smashing the statuette on your head. I run away from the room, but you refuse to give up on the pain and chase me with the knife between your fingers.

I lower the stairs listening to you scream like a madman behind me. You slip with the blood from my ear and your fall also drags me. The blow affects us, more to me than to you. You pounce on my belly and start groping me. I can see how your eyes sprout full of veins. I resist, you cut me in the arm. I reject your old but hard hands. I am not ready to scream, nor to let you catch me like my sisters. You try to rip my clothes off and turn me upside down, I react with kicks. You neglect your knife in the struggle, and I take advantage of my now free hand to sink it deep into your right cheek.

I break free of you and sneak into the trophy room. My grandmother is still resting under the closed sarcophagus. This time there is no one to stop me from taking the shotgun. I try to grab her but you pretend to stop me. However I am able to close my hands around the trigger. I take aim at you when you come back on me, and relentlessly I bring the barrel of the gun closer to your heart. You let go of me when the bullet goes through you, and your blood floods my face with throbbing eyes.

I get up still accelerated. I take aim at you with the shotgun to make sure you don't revive. You convulse your deceased bones when I pull the trigger, twice in memory of Mom and Dad and twice more in memory of my sisters. At last I leave you, beast, so that you descend into hell. Now I go to your sarcophagus, Grandma, and open it to see you one last time.

There is your beast, great mother, the one who took my parents and my sisters from me. You were unable to dare confront him, even when he hurt your own granddaughters. You loved him, I know, that was the true cause of your mercy with him. That's why you trained me to beat him, and I've already done it. The hunt is over. The spirit of the beast will not live even on these walls. So I will send them to the underworld along with my past. I water gasoline throughout the mansion, and the spark of a match does the rest.

The flames that consume the big house dismiss me forever. Now yes, lifeguard trees, I will sink into their forests of fresh air to try to achieve a normal life. The path is unfair and bitter without you sisters. I failed them just as my grandmother failed us. I will cherish her memories for the rest of my life, but now more than ever I am prepared to face what is to come. I may get more beasts along the way, so I decided to take the shotgun with me.



Author's final note.

Many times we allow our closest loved ones to be hurt and do nothing about it, even though we can avoid it. Rape of girls and adolescents has become more recurrent in our society, and the worst case scenario is that such monstrosity occurs, many times, within the families themselves.

That is why we must be aware at all times, attentive to any threat that may be looming over girls and adolescents. A first indication that something is happening to them is a change in mood or sudden depression. If we can avoid such misfortunes we will be involved in building a healthier world.

Okay great minds of HIVE, I have already shown you one of the things I am most passionate about: writing literature about things that happen in real life with the ideas of transmitting a message that, in one way or another, can change for the better our world. And you, what are you most passionate about? You can enter this initiative by clicking here. Dare to participate and let's make HIVE bigger!

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Thank you for your entry to the posting initiative and for supporting hive. We will be judging in a few days and really appreciate you taking the time to participate with such an excellent post.

Oh thanks for reading @galenkp. These types of initiatives enhance the HIVE community. Greetings from Venezuela.