posted on Aug, 16 2018 @ 07:31 AM
After another hot day the sun was about to set, and as the early evening neared the air was notably cooler already. He could not take his eyes of the
man. He knew he should be super quite as he hid under the meter-tall bushes, only a few feet away from his next victim, but he couldn’t help and let
a deep noise out from the bottom of his throat. It was a noise of enjoyment that always came with the excitement of the hunt. The hunt for the next
victim, a never-ending hunger, which occasionally, although more often now, turned into real hunger, the kind, only the taste of flesh could stop.
It started about five months ago. He was resting in his secret lair, under the single tree in the hot savanna the only one he could find. Alone as
usual, but he preferred it that way. There was a time when he had a female partner, but she got killed close to a year ago by men who looked just like
the one he was stalking now from under the bushes. He was there, close but not close enough to help her, and he had to watch as the men first shoot
her, then threw her dead body on their pickup truck and drove away. After that he became a loner, somewhat sad, sometimes lonely, but he could never
again share his life with someone else. He created his home far from everything in the middle of nowhere and have not seen any men or women until that
day five months ago.
He heard him from far away as the man was closing in. He got up and looked at the direction the noise came from. The man was by himself, dressed the
way his partner’s killers dressed, and pretty much, for him at least this man looked the same as well. First, he was shocked to even encounter
someone this far from civilization, but seconds later his shock turned into anger, swept over him like a tsunami destroying everything in its way,
leaving only pure hatred behind. The man was about fitty meter away now and still closing, looking at the ground.
There was nothing else left but the craving of revenge. He flexed his muscles and with all his strength started to run toward this man, this killer
who now had to pay for what he did. He saw that the man had something on his back, a stick like item that he knew was very similar of the rifle that
killed his partner. This made him even more furious if that was even possible. Within seconds he reached the man, jumped on him and with a single blow
killed him. Red mist came over his vision and he started to rip the body, every blow drew blood, broke bones and with his fury flowing free he bit on
the flash, ripping a huge chunk out then another and another. The smell and taste of blood made him crazy but he also noticed he liked the taste of
the man’s flesh. By the time he calmed down, there was not much left of the body, only some parts and a lot of blood around. He walked back to his
home and with a full stomach he fell asleep. In the following days, weeks, months his thirst for human flesh grew by the minute, and his hunt for men
Twenty four murders later he was now stalking his next victim who was standing only yards away from him not knowing that certain, unavoidable death is
About forty meters from the man, there was two other men, hiding on a wooden high-stand, invisible for the curious eyes, dressed in camouflage. One of
them, Charlie, held a binocular while the other, whose name was Thomas held a high-powered hunting rifle with a scope. Looking through it Thomas was
aware of the danger that has been waiting behind the man. He was aware, because he told the man to stand there, making him the bait Thomas needed.
Obamoe, the bait, first didn’t want to do it. As everyone else in the village he too, knew about the monster who killed twenty four of his people
already without any witnesses ever. They’ve always found the victims’ bodies afterward, ripped apart, sometimes missing only small parts, but most
of the times very little remained. However, Thomas knew how to talk to these people to do what he wanted them to do, and the wad of cash helped to
break down any concerns Obamoe still had left.
He moved closer an inch, then another. He squinted his eyes and felt the anger building up in his mind. He slowly stood up and moved another inch
towards the man. He now was visible, half way out of the bushes, yet his future victim was still unaware of him. One more small step and he was ready
for the jump.
The hit on his body was hard. He didn’t understand what happened. One moment he was airborne, ready to kill, a second later he was stopped by this
incredible power. Then a second hit, and simultaneously a very loud bang. He collapsed to the ground and seconds later he was dead. The first bullet
went straight to his lungs the following one pierced his heart.
Thomas lowered his rifle and pulled his radio out. He reported that the killer was down. The man-eater, the huge lion that kept this village in terror
for five long months were no longer a danger. His assistant Charlie looked at his watch and started to put away the binocular. Thomas put his rifle in
its case and both men climbed down of the high-stand.
Job is done he said, and they both knew it is time to move to another village about two hundred miles South from here, where reports came in about men
disappearing into thin air, leaving nothing but some bloody items of clothing behind.