THE BEAST AND THE PREY
The Beast strode through the tall, golden grass.
It was embroidered in a light, golden brown coat to camouflage amongst the Elephant grass and shades of warm color.
Stalks of golden greenery crunched beneath its elephant bearing feet and sunshine revealed it’s pale and black bearded face.
The Beast curved its finger around the cold metal trigger; it pointed the barrel of the rifle through parted grass, sights focused ahead at the magnificent and muscular body of golden mass.
The sun didn’t glare in the Beast’s eyes; underlined with black. Sights set on the gaping and roaring jaws of the prey, whose golden coat and collar shimmered in the rays of torrid sun, bullets for a trophy.
“So majestic was the prey, so prideful and powerful and page-turning in the sense of a novel”, thought the beast. The 3 P’s for great prey, The Beast readied its Saturday-night special pulling back the bolt with a click, it licked its lips insatiably for the sport it called lavish and fundamental and others called abominable and crass.651Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡV6xJDr7rCe
*****
The Prey tilted its head up to the glimmering sphere of yellow amongst the blanket of blue sky, and roared a terrible and mighty roar like thunder, but alas, it was a outcry for panic and coercion, the Prey nudged the carcass of another Prey fallen victim to the Beast, another fallen prey.
The Beast ducked down as it heard the clamoring of men rushing through the grass behind it, the Beast could hear their guns clamor and click as they bounced off their chests, their bullets meant to protect the hunted.
The Beast smiled, for he was prepared for the contingency, the others said that the Beast was sick, sick in the head, but one who was sick in the head couldn’t be so brainy, not as astute as the Beast is.
The Beast dropped to its stomach and covered its ears; he heard a boom and the sudden stop of clamoring gunmetal and rubber boots against the mud. The drop of bodies, splashing against the mud, it was almost the highlight of it’s day.
The Prey knew what was going on, it looked the Beast dead in the eye and prowled back and forth around the stalks, growling and provocatively waving it’s tail in the air, side stepping and revealing a clad of smaller and immature prey, who cowered in fear, sun reflected in their beady black eyes.
The Beast didn’t feel the fear the cubs did; he felt a surge of fortuity for medals to go with its grand prize, ribbons if you may.
*****
The Prey was growing belligerent, bearing its large canine teeth as it snapped and growled in the direction of the Beast.
The Beast was holding its gun with a grip of concrete, and looked down the iron sights of the barrel, a bullet in the chamber.
The Prey inched closer, to the Beast it felt like with every footfall of the Prey’s mighty paw the ground shook and danger was closer.
The Beast squeezed the trigger and the rifle rocked back into its shoulder, it wasn’t prepared, it hoped the bullet would graze at least.
The Beast, mere feet in front of its prey, drew its silver pistol, cocked and ready.
At last, the climax, but also the end, the Prey and the Beast were so close, the Beast met its green, monstrous eyes to the Preys marbled golden and black eyes, beady and angular. The Beast was ever so close to its prey, it felt like it needed to kiss its prey goodbye, instead he pushed its pistol up against the bottom of its jaw, and the Prey gaped its mouth open. The Predator was a monster resolved on killing its prey and its children, but a father was willing to give life and limb to stop that. The question, however, is… Who will feast? The Prey or the Beast?
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