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The Devils Game (standard:horror, 26379 words) | |||
Author: Mark Tival | Added: Sep 04 2007 | Views/Reads: 3178/2275 | Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes) |
The Devil hunting down a select few in a twisted game where only he knows the rules | |||
The Devils Game Some people think that the nice guy always wins. They believe that the evil always gets its just desert. They know that it will always be alright in the end. Some times they're wrong. The Devil never looses. Not at his game. It was the fifth night of his hunting the pray that would set him free of this curse. The 'game' it called it. The voice hadn't spoke to him for a little while. Not since it had been released any way. That was ten days ago by Johns reckoning. Tens days of almost no sleep, the fear of the feeling of it getting closer and closer building with in him. It was getting closer; he could feel it, the imprint of its fear stuck in his mind telling him, cutting through his blind panic making his bowls loosen. This however was the last of his ‘game'. The last person that he had to hunt, yes hunt was the word, as good as any John decided. Stalking too would be a good one if he was talking about the last few days out. It was a cold night, cold like the voice that cut through his head telling him what to do to end it. He moved, the moon momentarily obscured by cloud helping cover his movements. His breath barely visible in the shadows that he hid, as much for his own safety as not to be seen. The man below him, moved carefully in the dark as if trying not to be seen unaware of his watcher. It was always the fact that you could watch them and they couldn't watch you that gave John his thrill. For three nights now he'd followed the footsteps of the man, eventually finding him running through the woods a few days ago his mind lost to all sane thoughts pushed over the edge by the fear of what was hunting them. He was looking for some thing, John knew it, and he was scared shitless, looking over his shoulder every few seconds. John had spent the last few days knowing time was running out stalking the man as he ran away, far from the car crash he had left. It was hunting him too. John knew from the look in the mans eyes. He was part of the game. The last piece. John crouched behind a car and continued to watch his prey with out being aware that he was being watched himself his tiredness stopping his feelings that he normally had. The feelings that had kept him safe and yet had signaled his doom. The man had for some days now in John's minds eye shown that he was the man he was looking for. He had not stopped moving, from small town to small town. John new he was looking for some thing. Some thing that was missing in all the other small places the man had taken him too. The man continued to run the darkness keeping his face from being seen. John however knew what he looked like. He had seen him, the fear in the mans eyes piercing into the deepest depths of his soul telling him he was the one he hunted. The man was part of the game. The man continued to move looking nervously behind him every few seconds, more now so than he had before as if what was hunting them both was moving closer. The thought didn't enter Johns mind. Had he noticed it he might have been safe for a little while longer. He didn't. The thought of what he would do next sent a thrill of power through Johns mind blinding him to his usual senses. His sense that would have kept him alive just a bit longer. He was going to us a power that he wouldn't be allowed to have in the day. In the day, before the game had been forced to run, they usually saw him, their screams leading to him nearly being caught many times. but not here in the dark oh no way Jose. A flash of movement in the back of Johns mind should have warned him but Johns mind was on other things and he didn't register it. His mind was focused on the man in front of him only. If only it wasn't he might have lived just a bit longer. In the night he became the master. In the night he could do what he wanted and he did just that. The man for no reason that John could see suddenly running through the dimly lit streets twisting his head behind him his breathing coming out in short sharp breaths, was a well built man with graying hair that had once been a deep black. His next target. The final one he needed. The last before he would be safe from the hunter. The beast, black as night. Its fear filling his mind making him think of nothing else for so many days. The feeling of it getting closer. The man though was the last one. After this, he would be safe. He could afford to enjoy this one. The beasts presence hadn't been in his mind for some days now. He had finally left it behind. John could do what he did best; stalk. Watch. The word filled him with a thrill that was echoed by the lump in his trousers. How many times in his youth had he just sat there and for the thrill of it relieved himself over some one he was watching, man or woman it didn't matter to him, just the fact that they couldn't see him sent him into spasms of excitement. The man started to move and John prepared to move with him. He moved father along the street his steps echoing off the silent Click here to read the rest of this story (1980 more lines)
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Mark Tival has 4 active stories on this site. Profile for Mark Tival, incl. all stories Email: tomwgasa@hotmail.co.uk |