Writing Prompt

He’d wanted me to hunt with him, to go into the forests with a rifle and an axe, and look for something innocent to murder. That was when I lost interest, when he took me to his family’s mountain lodge and showed me the peaked roof, decorated with antlers. He was so proud of them, like a little boy at show and tell. It made me sick. I could feel the heaviness of the air, of the spirits that had been killed. And that night, he asked me to go out with him the next morning to hunt, to join in his family rituals. Of course, he didn’t call them rituals, but that’s what it felt like. But what was I to say? No? I guess I should have …

Because when we got to the forest and he readied his rifle to shoot at a grazing deer, beautiful in nature - in solace, in peace - I grabbed for an axe and swung at him. He fell, and I kept swinging. His rifle never fired, and the deer fled, as it should.

And now I stood at the lake near his family lodge and looked down into the icy waters, glad that I couldn’t see his body sinking anymore.

Heavy is the burden of the fallen tree First to sustain all that grows And then to give from sapling to prime

When felled and fallen Still it serves Patching roofs over heads And crafted into vessels to hold

Even dead and decaying it serves Tiny organisms fill its pores And seedinglings break its back

Heavy is the burden of the fallen tree To give and give And only be cut down in return

Alex lived in a cabin, near the lake in the woods. He was not the richest man on the planet, but certainly not the poorest. He lived his life in isolation, never trusting anyone except himself.

One day, he was at his day job (shopkeeper) and a girl he had a "crush" on came up to him and asked him on a date. He agreed. A few months later, they were boyfriend and girlfriend.

Alex walked up to his girlfriend's house with some flowers to surprise her. He could see from outside the window that she and his coworker, Andy, were making out heavily. Alex walked home slowly.

Alex needed a disguise. He put on a white dress he had once bought his girlfriend, but new enough that she hadn't seen it before. "How foolish I was," Alex smirked. He grabbed his hatchet and walked quietly to his "girlfriend"'s house.

The Hunter.

The Hunter. That’s what the man who lived in the cabin,secluded from society,was called. No one knew his real name,no one dared to talk to him,no matter find out his name.

The Hunter specialised in deer hunting. And he very obviously enjoyed it. If you trekked into his land,you would see no blood,that was how precise he was.

Even odder,no matter how many deer he hunted and killed,there were always a large amount of deer around his area.

Well,none of this matters. We follow the story of The Hunter. The Hunter,also known as Alastor Bosco.