Forced Hunt

Having wrapped up Old Debts and Ruined Flight, my attention turned to the last story of the month for my patrons, which was a horror story. Before commencing the crafting of this tale, I tossed my story cubes, and received a trio comprising a trident, a troll/ogre, and a bow and arrow. Despite my initial desire to highlight my hunter, Solomon, I faced the challenge of finding a cohesive narrative. So, turned to ChatGPT for inspiration.

Unfortunately, there was a lack of captivating content from the auto generated tale. Which meant that the shape of this story remained elusive to me until I reached the completion of my initial draft of Ruined Flight. Despite not resuming immediately after that eventful narrative, I’ve chosen to focus on the aftermath of those events.

Take a moment to find a cozy spot and prepare yourself to join Solomon on his latest expedition.

After escaping an ambush, Solomon finds himself in a jungle doing what he can to get home…

Forced Hunt

“Solomon, why’d you insist on coming to this section of the jungle?” The guide asked, scratching his stubble. However, before the hunter could reply, the guide’s arms spread as he turned about, highlighting the decaying swaths of the foliage. “There’s nothing to hunt in this area. In fact, those foolish enough to tread upon these woods never return. The creatures who live here are the true hunters.”

“You are closer to the truth than you know,” Solomon said, rubbing his brow. “Don’t you know what your chief asked me to handle?”

“I live on the outskirts of the village,” the guide said, sauntering toward Solomon. “As a result, I’m not very well informed of any immediate concerns.”

The hunter shook his head as he walked across the small clearing and thrust the tip of the borrowed bow into a dense patch of dangling foliage.

“Should you be that reckless with something that’s not yours?”

Solomon’s head turned to his guide as his lips drew into a tight line. “My young friend, I’ve worked with more weapons than you’ll ever see in your lifetime. With that much of my life dedicated to wielding them, I instinctively examine anything I pick up and isolate its weaknesses.”

.

.

.

To continue reading head over to my Patreon page and become a patron, $2 a month will give you access to this and other flash fiction stories.