The Hunt

A Story by Dabunster

In the deep forests of Valoran, a particular hunter is in pursuit of one of his greatest trophies yet.

The Hunt

“Pum Pum….Pum Pum” His heart beat so intensely he could feel it throughout his entire body. He lived for this, nothing made his adrenaline surge throughout his body more than a night hunt such as this one. Especially considering who his prey was. Sweat ran down the fur in between his dimly glowing yellow eyes. Not a single muscle seemed to be sore from the constant leaps and bounds in between trees, rocks, and the constant thicket through the forest. But they were tense, as if they were storing up energy for one single, energetic pounce. Through each of his perfectly trained senses he could tell exactly where the enemy was, even in complete darkness he could follow his prey with ease. His nose could smell his prey’s metallic scent, he could hear the warrior’s every breath, rapidly increasing as he ran deeper into the forest. Maybe it was exhaustion…or maybe the warrior’s very own adrenaline was causing him to breathe heavy…betraying him. Every footstep the runner made, the hunter knew his prey’s exact location and every single turn or cut off the runner made in an attempt to try to escape his looming fate even made it easier for the hunter. Through the hunter’s eyes he could instantly catch any small glimmer of the warrior’s gold and silver armor through the shafts of moonlight in between the canopy of trees. However there was another sense this Hunter had obtained from years of experience and practice. He could sense fear. Every heartbeat, every pulse could be identified by the deadly stalker. And this warrior was no exception. The hunter suddenly stopped his chase. The warrior had stopped running dead in his tracks, winded and out of breath, he leaned over himself. The bulky armor seemed to support him as he put his hands on his knees and took a huge gasp of air facing towards the ground. The hunter on the other hand, gracefully leaped into a bush without making a sound, still plenty of breath left in his lungs. For being so massive and muscular, he was terrifyingly agile and quiet. The Hunter watched, from the bushes, his eyes were seeking weaknesses in his opponent’s armor. The blue scarf around the warrior’s neck seemed to be the ideal location for him to strike. The warrior looked to either side of him and breathed a sigh of relief, he thought he had lost his pursuer. The feline mouth smirked from one side, revealing his large razor sharp teeth. They were curled like a rugged crescent moon. “Comfort…breeds weakness” He thought as he saw how the warrior seemed to loosen up his guard, thinking that this night terror that he stepped into was over. The hunter opened his paws and flexed his claws outwards, revealing his prized weapon. A fatally sharp, curved blade with spikes protruding from the rounded handle. It was a weapon meant for one thing. Death. He knew it would not matter if he would strike the warrior in the clothed part of his armor, or the metal. Either way he was strong enough and his weapon sharp enough that together they would tear through the armor like a strong wind to sand. The words of his father echoed in his head “Strike When Ready” and oh how he was ready. He would lavish this moment. Every smell every feeling and every sight, he would try to store in his memory. This was his favorite part of any hunt… right before the kill. “What a perfect prize to add to my collection…The Champion of Demacia’s head!” The thought rolled over and over through his mind and brought his senses to a heightened state. Every ounce of his large muscular body tingled with excitement and he could feel an ecstasy of pleasure envelop him. It was about to happen. This is what he lived for. This is what his pure purpose in life was. And when people found out that he had killed Demacian’s champion… No one would ever question his power ever again. This was it. Crouched on all fours in a large bush he knew that his soon to be trophy had absolutely no idea of his presence. He knew that this was his perfect moment to leap out of the brush and thrust his weapon and teeth down into the so called champion of Demacia before that fool even had a chance to blink. It would be over in just seconds. That big oversized sword would do him no good now. Not in the Hunter’s very own territory. The hunter did his final preparation. His eyes closed and he envisioned every upcoming second and exactly how it would play out. He was focused, He was ready. His body seemed to meld into the vert grass and terrain around him. A low toned growl, almost a breaking laugh, echoed and seemed to roll upon the grass to the feet of his prey. The warrior gasped and looked up to where the nightmarish sound seemed to come from, his eyes were quaking with fear. He then saw Glowing yellow eyes emerge from the bush and pierce his gaze…bloodlust. He grasped his sword tightly and started to raise it in defense of what he knew was about to come, but it was too late. The Hunter let out a deafening roar loud enough to shake the entire forest and leaped out of the bush with such speed and ferocity that his prey looked upon him stunned with absolute and complete terror. Off of the leap the hunter’s left hand dug into the Demacian’s shoulder. His razor sharp claws instantly caught bone as they tore through the helpless warrior. Just as that happened he used the momentum of the grab to twist his body sideways and in one fast swipe of his right hand, the weapon connected under the chin of the Demacian. He had removed the once mighty Champion of Demacia’s head, completely off his shoulders in juit one quick moment. Blood splattered across the Hunter’s fur and a large pool of dark red liquid appeared on the grass below his feet, The still armored body of the revered warrior hit the ground with a loud and heavy “Thump”. The hunter looked upon his prize… rather his trophy, with such pride, dignity and joy, and with a dark rumble in his voice the hunter boomed out the words “WHAT A GLORIOUS HUNT”. And In one quick thrust He held up the severed head in the moonlight. The soft clearing in the dense forest was gracious enough to lend a small amount of moonlight down through the canopy so that the Legendary Hunter could admire his work. The hunter then bent over himself with his arms crossed in front of his chest. With the new trophy cradled in one of them, he leaned backwards and popped his chest out. His arms flailed outwards with his rippled muscles flexed. And an enormous roar emerged from within the Hunter that literally tore bark and leaves off of the trees. The hunter, shifted his body so his armor fell more comfortably across his chest. It was over. He, the Legendary Hunter of Valoran, Rengar had done it once again. He made sure to leave the body of Garen, The FORMER, champion of Demacia out in plain sight so that someone would find it come morning. The hellish tooth bearing smirk bared upon his face once again as he started to walk back towards his den. His trophy was fastened tight along his side. “Remember every kill” could be heard as a ghost like echo as the murderous creature…no, as the murderous monster disappeared into the night leaving only, traces of his kill.

© 2016 Dabunster

Author's Note

Ignore misplaced commas and grammar, I did this late at night and just really wanted to get some constructive feedback :) tell me if you like it or not.