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            D  a  m  n  e  d     F  u  c  k  i  n  g     S  h  i  t 
 
                                  - Presents - 
 
                              Issue #49 
                              Date: 3/12/95 
                              Title: The Hunt 
                              Author: Demntia Praecox 
 
 
[Note from AD: Well its once again been forever since DFS has had a new 
release.  Well damnit, someone write for me!  I have NO TIME to write and I 
finally got something so I'm going to publish it!  So here it is!  I dunno, 
don't worry, your favorite k-rad 'zine <or something> will maybe publish 
something more soon.  Who knows.  Well, with a big DFS "FUCK YOU!", here comes 
The Hunt.] 
 
 
                            The Hunt 
 
                       by Dementia Praecox 
 
 
                               One 
                              ----- 
 
     Although they know it not, these few are destined for a 
painful, appalling death.  A death deserved, however, by defilers 
of the forest.  They have come here, perhaps by accident, but they 
will never live to regret their terrible mistake.  For the Forest 
Demon has now become aware of their presence in his domain. 
     I have lived here always, and I will always live here, in the 
great forest.  My function is to keep those who would enter and 
defile this great place, which stood here even before me, from 
achieving their goals.  I have never failed.  This function I have 
known since my first moments of awareness in this life, though it 
has never been explained to me.  This and other secrets have come 
to me purely instinctively. 
     I have often killed before, to protect this great place.  When 
I have defeated my enemies, I take the victim's bodies, twisted 
parodies of their former selves, and display them at the forest's 
edge.  My symbol is carved plainly in their flesh.  Eventually, 
other people come to collect the remains.  These people are never 
touched, however.  They are different from the violators of the 
forest.  They are a tribal people, their knowledge passed through 
the generations, and they know their place when dealing with me and 
the forest.  It is from these people that I gained the name of "the 
Forest Demon".  Beyond this title, I am nameless and anonymous. 
     These invaders of the forest, however, are a different matter 
altogether.  They serve no purpose in life.  They are of no tribe.  
These people are mere pleasure-seekers, defilers.  And they have 
now crossed over into my territory.  For this, they shall be 
punished.  For this, they shall pay.  They will ALL pay. 
     A deep rage burns within me, gnawing, searing.  It threatens 
to explode forth, in an unstoppable torrent of raw anger and primal 
savagery.  But through the red haze of hatred comes a single 
thought of restraint.  Now is not yet the time.  With this 
realization, there comes a relaxation, and a subsiding of the 
anger, the hate, the pain.  However, with this relaxation there is 
no forgiving, and no forgetting.  All of them, every single one, 
will be made to give their penance when the time comes.  This I 
know. 
     But for now, I wait.  Settling back against a tree, I watch 
over the hated trespassers, keeping a silent vigil over them.  
Awaiting the hour of reprisal.  Their time slips away. 
      
 
                               Two 
                              ----- 
  
     The next day, the brilliant sun rises anew, its warmth bathing 
the land in light.  In the forest, however, the great trees block 
out this light, leaving wood cold and shadowed.  An ominous 
warning. 
     From the campsite below, a stirring signals me to the 
awakening of the damned below.  As I watch from high above in the 
trees, they pack up their belongings.  They are four in number, two 
females and two males.  They speak cheerfully back and forth to 
each other as they prepare to depart.  Their path, however, leads 
them deeper into the forest, toward their own deaths.  So be it.  
The die is cast, their fate is sealed.  Now is the time.  The hunt 
begins. 
     At a distance, I follow them through the trees, until their 
path is determined for sure.  They walk in single file, with one of 
the females being the last in line.  Victim number one. 
     I race past them from at a distance, quickly and quietly.  
Although they don't notice me, I know their location at all times, 
even without my eyes upon them.  This is due to my far more 
superior powers of hearing and smell.  When I am far enough ahead 
of them, I turn and duck behind a tree, into some light foliage.  
Then, I wait. 
     Almost a minute later, the first of them arrives.  At this 
distance, I can hear every step, every breath, every noise that 
escapes their lips.  On the air is the scent of their sweat, as it 
begins to form on their bodies. 
     The first male walks past me, making an alarming amount of 
noise, even for one of his kind.  Then, a female.  Then another 
male.  My presence goes undetected.  Finally, they prey approaches. 
     As she starts to pass, my hand darts out and clamps over her 
mouth, and I pull her in my direction.  Once we are out of sight of 
the others, one of my claws slides through her throat, silencing 
her by severing her vocal cords, and also opening an unstoppable 
river of blood.  She struggles feebly, but it is of no use.  My 
mouth yawns open over the wound, and her lifesblood pours down my 
throat.  Warm, tangy, addictive. 
     Gradually the pounding of her pulse slows to a dull murmur, 
and her body relaxes.  Her death comes slowly.  Now she will serve 
another purpose.  Her remains are pulled with me up into the 
treetops. 
     By now, the others in her group have realized her absence, and 
are out in the forest searching for her.  She will not be found, 
however, until it is my choice.  They will find her soon enough.  
Her clothes are torn up, and cast aside.  Using one claw, I carve 
my symbol into her back, marking her as my kill.  The deep 
scratches draw no blood from her lifeless body, however.  There is 
none left to give. 
     Once this task is complete, I gather some vine from the 
surrounding trees.  Pulling off a fairly long length, I secure one 
end to one of her cold, dead ankles, while the other is tied to the 
branch on which I now stand.  After everything is secure, her body 
is unceremoniously dumped from the tree.  I then move to another 
tree to watch, and to wait. 
     The pendulum of her body swings precariously back and  forth, 
about three feet off of the ground.  Her arms are outstretched 
toward the ground, her mouth is open in a final, silent scream.  
Gradually, the swinging slows, then stops.  Now, one of the others 
is approaching.  The screams begin. 
 
 
                              Three 
                             ------- 
 
     Midday.  The doomed have apparently now decided to flee this 
place.  There is no escape, however.  They set off at a quick 
place, through the ancient trees.  It soon becomes evident, 
however, that they know not the way from which they came.  Their 
indecision makes them falter.  The time comes once more.  The hunt 
begins anew. 
     A new development.  The two males have now begun to argue, 
apparently about which way it is that they are supposed to go.  The 
argument becomes more heated.  In anger, one of the males storms 
away from the party.  How unfortunate. 
     I pursue him silently for a time before the strike is made.  
I can sense his anger, his frustration.  But their is another 
feeling.  Fear.  Delicious fear.  Now, I am on him. 
     A quick and savage blow to his right temple removes him from 
consciousness.  I work quickly, to complete my task before the 
young victim returns to this world.  His arms are secured around a 
tree, with him facing outward.  The knots are checked again for 
strength.  Perfect. 
     A couple of slaps to the face rouses him once more.  Lifting 
his head groggily, his eyes bring my form into their view.  His 
breath now catches within his throat.  His lips move, but no words 
are formed, no sound emanates from him other than a quiet kind of 
gasping.  His bladder lets go.  It is time now, time for the kill. 
     My hands grasp each side of his head in an unbreakable grip.  
He whimpers his fear, silently begging for mercy on my part.  There 
is no mercy here, in the forest.  Kill or be killed.  I begin to 
force his head slowly to the right.  Now, the screams begin as the 
sensation of pain cuts through the numbing haze of his fear.  
Farther to the right.  He strains will all his might to the left in 
a futile effort to stop me.  There is no stopping me.  Popping 
sounds erupt from the back of his neck.  He screams one final time 
in desperation and agony.  Then, with a final wrenching "CRACK", he 
is no more.  His scream echoes and dies. 
     With a quick slash of a claw through his abdomen, his insides 
fall into my waiting hands, steaming in the cold forest air.  A 
satisfying treat for my burning hunger.  The taste draws me in, and 
I am lost from the world in delight for a few moments.  Then, with 
a start, I realize that the others have almost arrived, having 
heard the final scream of torment which issued from the male's 
throat.  No danger however, for they have been detected in time.  
I quickly snatch up the last few sections of digestive tract and 
rush of into the trees.  When they arrive upon the gruesomely 
macabre scene, their shrieks of terror announce their presence to 
everything within a mile's radius. 
 
 
                              Four 
                             ------ 
 
     Late afternoon approaches.  The time, I decide, has now come 
to complete that which I have started.  It is time to complete the 
hunt.  These next two shall be taken down as one. 
     The prey has fled steadily in one direction for the past few 
hours.  I keep a close watch upon them from my own trailing route, 
invisible to their pitifully weak eyes.  I know that they have been 
running so hard now that they must either slow down or die, their 
unfit bodies collapsing from exhaustion.  Apparently, they realize 
this too, and the first option appeals more to them than the 
second.  Their running pace gradually slows to a walk.  However, in 
slowing, they have sealed their own fate.  My tongue runs over my 
lips in delicious anticipation of the approaching double-kill.   
     The male comes abruptly to a halt, putting out his arm to stop 
the female.  They strain their ears, desperately listening for any 
impending danger.  The male thinks he has heard something.  He 
didn't.  His fear is making him jittery, making him hear things 
that aren't really there.  Yet.  His dread is plain.  I can see it 
in his actions.  I can smell it, even at this distance. 
     Now.  My leap from the trees  brings me within range of them 
both.  My first strike sends the female violently to the ground, 
where she is pinned down by my foot.  She lies there, stunned, not 
registering what is occurring.  Simultaneously, I grab the male by 
the throat, and squeeze.  He struggles briefly, but gradually loses 
consciousness. 
     The male is picked up and held in my arms, above the now- 
struggling female.  The entire front of his shirt is ripped from 
his body.  One claw tears into his abdomen and slides sideways, 
creating a vicious wound.  He regains consciousness only to gaze in 
dulled horror at his insides dripping from this atrocious new 
cavity in his body.  The female screams and shudders in horror as 
his blood and other internal fluids spill out from him and onto 
her, encasing her in a layer of gore. 
     Soon the male has breathed his last.  He hangs limply within 
my grasp.  With a quick shrug of my arms, he is cast from me.  He 
falls to the ground and lies there, motionless. 
     The female, meanwhile, appears to have entered a state of 
shock, in her panic.  I remove my foot from her body, and she only 
lies there, shivering.  She is the last survivor of the doomed 
party.  For now, she will be left alone. 
     I set out to retrieve the other two bodies.  My symbol is 
carefully carved into the backs of the males.  They are dragged 
with me, back to the sight of the latest kill.  The female sits 
within the middle of the clearing, staring into the forest.  She 
shudders over and over.  Her lip quivers incessantly.  Her mind has 
shattered. 
     There is no use for her now, besides that of food.  Survival 
of the fittest.  She doesn't even move when my jaws clamp over her 
neck.  When my teeth dig lightly in, releasing small trickles of 
blood down her neck.  We are joined, if only for a second.  With a 
violent shaking of my head, both the link and her lifeline are 
severed, never to be mended.  She lies limply upon the ground.  The 
last victim, the last defiler. 
     The forest has once again regained its purity.  No more  
defilers exist within the forest's walls, at least for now.  But, 
I will be here when they next arrive.  Always watching.  Always 
waiting.  Always safeguarding the pristine purity of the forest.  
Always keeping the silent vigil. 
 
 
                             The End 
 
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