I closely kept a keen eye on my aim. The doves' white wings flickered as it moved step by step. Then the bird started its wings to fly away.
Now! I think.
I pulled the string of my bow, and let it go. The metal point made its way to the doves' left wing, in result, the arrow went past through the wing that it collided against firm tree bark. The pigeon cried hopelessly as it was too weak to get out from the trap. A broken wing, like me.
I rose up from my kneeling position on a thick vine bush hidden behind a group of trees. I slowly walked toward the weakened bird to not frightened it.
"Shh, everything will be alright. I'm not gonna hurt you." I say. I slouched my back on a small angle and rose my hands in mid air, I made a relaxed gesture to not scare away the poor creature. As I made my way to the bark, I stepped on a stick, a snapping sound echoed through the shallow trees. I heard different bird screeching all at once that they sounded related to crow cries.
"Bad move I did there." I told myself. I ignored the irritating yelps and put my atention to the small version swan.
The white-feathered friend started to squawk. Alerted, I stormed off the arrows from the broken wing, the dove fell to the ground.
"Hey, don't do that. I'll get in big trouble if you do that." I say. I kneeled down with one knee and hunched closer to the injured bird. My arms leaned forward and lifted the dove on my sided palms. I stood up and lightly soothed the silky white feathers of the flying bird.
"I'm gonna take you with me until you heal." I whispered.
I walked back to the vine bush and grabbed my leather bag from a side tree. I turned my body to the opposite side and smiled at the veiw. A waterfall flickered as sunlight hits it, willow trees on the other side of the wide stream, and a sun setting downwards.
How long I've been out? I think.
The right strap of my bookbag touched my shoulder, while the other freely swinged to the sides as I walked on the green pea grass. I embraced the dove in my arms like a mother carrying her child. Sunset was already set, a peach color covered the sky like a dark color fading into a light tone. The wind sang a melody as I walked freely around the woods'. It brushed onto my skin as my hair faced the West. As I got closer to the East, the more chllier the dove and I got. A shivered ran down my spine, starting from my neck to my feet. Even the leather jacket I wore wasn't enough to keep the freezing breeze away from making contact with my skin.
I feel like I'm in December all over again. I think.
But it would've been worse if snow were to descend from the gloaming welkin, I could get the flu or even a horrendous fever. Surely I do not want that, I need to keep living as long as I could. The dove flickered its unharmed wing and sheltered its crown above it.
"I see you're having an easy advantage to this condition." I say with a playful smirk.
As I walked farther in the cold gale, the more the increase in the posibilites of my death would come near. Such a painful feeling to have nothing against something you can't stop. A volanco wouldn't stand a chance- or be compared, to this blizzard of frozen wind. Bad thing I wasn't prepared for this moment. At least I won't surrender to simple cool hurricane, and give my life away at a flawed time. Then I realized something important in my life.
My bow. . .
I can't loose it. It is very precious to me, and the only reminder of my deceased father. As for my mother, she died a few years after my younger twin brothers were born, Pim and Tim. My two elder brothers, Fin and Dray, worked day and night to keep the family together. I was the only daughter and girl. My parents spoiled me deeply, whenever I wanted something, I get, and whenever I wanted to go somewhere, I go. But that stopped after dad died, mum was broke, so we had to live at her old house at the bottom of a hill. No more spoiling for me since then.
Mum fell into MDD (Major Depressive Disorder) and went drunk of sanity lose. She would come home late at dusk with one of her friends helping her walk. She would slap Fin or Dray with no reasons, and left red markings that faded in a day. I hated her from then on when she punched me in my eye, and left it swollen. Those were the scenes that I had to live in the other half of my life.
The bow was made from a rare tree here at Dahlia, my hometown. A Ginger tree had firm tree bark that it is difficult to cut through. No one has ever gotten wood from it, but dad carved one of the Ginger trees' and crumbs of bark fell to the ground. Thus, the bow was born during that time. It originally belonged to my father, but then a few years later when I came to the age of ten, he passed it down to me, like a locket that was passed down to the first off-spring of each generation.
I decided to turn back and retrieve it, but too late. A hard blizzard suddenly started to form.
"Dammit. Guess I have to come tomorrow." I say irritated. The fact that I cannot get back a special weapon, rose a boiling pot of anger inside me. No game, no life. And with no weapon, no continuation of life.
Damn. . . I think
I lowered my head to face the dove. Apparently, I felt a shallow up and down from the feathered criter. It was sleeping.
I reached the leather hood of my jacket with my free hand, and pulled it up to shelter my face from freezing into ice. Snow fell from the dusky night. It was faintly falling as I slowly walked on the blanket of snow. The wind whispered and swoosh right passed me, yet my hair continued to hover West, even though the hood was keeping it stable to stay in one place.
I looked back. There was no sign of trail of my footprints. The snow layered over them. As the time went by, I strolled slower and slower. I couldn't return to my regular pace. The dove seems to have the time of its life, but not me. Not me at all.
My energy bar decreased by the second, my muscles weakened as I used strenght to be kept to stand on two feet. The blizzard soften as I get closer to the East. The diving snow fell no longer. The snow coat ground level fell down. It was easy to walk now. The closer I got to Dahlia, the closer I made my way out of trouble. The snowy woods I normally spent my time at, was land that belonged to Shadow Hunters. Every citizens' nightmare. If they saw an uninvited guest, they'll spare no time to slit the intruder's throat. At least I haven't been spotted. That's because I settle on the uneeded parts of the land. The South Territory.
I reached to the East, Dahlia. A small village named after a Dahlia flower. The first pioneers to colonize the village, brought Dahlia flowers from when they traveled through Mexico. They cropped Dahlias' since then. The flower is very common here at Dahlia Village.
Snow layered ground stopped when it came contact with green grass. I walked over the grass to ignore getting my leather boots soaked in water by the puddles of water droplets. It will make me look suspicious of my whereabouts and my route. The doves' injured wing recovered as we reached springtime. Wierd, huh? I always questioned springs' healing abilities, but as time went by, I soon faded away from the question and moved on. I felt pushing through my jacket and freely opened my arms, the dove made its move and flied away into the night. The world has all the four seasonal stages. A border divides them, with each season the same amount of land. But spring took half of summer's territory, increasing the population here at Dahlia. No one knows how exactly we took over summer, but a huge disadvantage is going on at the half-territoried land. The Phoenix bird population is going down each day, and its main habitat is being close to the Sun. But the warmth of summer is decreasing and the source of its power is turning cold. The land we took is killing summer and its animals. Luckily, Shadow Hunters there are building a sanctuary for their endangered species.
I smiled when I looked up at the constellations above me. I closed my eyes and sighed. I focused on the rode to the hill, the old crummy hill where I live. A dirt path came led to a small tree farm. I went past trough the plantation. The path led to its final stop. Dahlia Hill I. The abandoned rounded surface of Dahlia. The hill was a few miles away from the tree farm, but I managed. My legs were bend, making me look shorter than my normal average of height. My shoulders couldn't keep up with the heavy bag I carried. Funny that when I have my bow inside the bag it weights like a feather. I took my hood of, revealing my covered in dry dirt spots. I saw my house. A small stone house with steam coming from the chimney, and a tree beside it. A hill was behind the small cottage, it was bigger than a normal hill. Land with tall free grass, was surrounding the area. Blooming flowers gleamed when moonlight hits them. A breeze chilled the area.
I opened the wooden door, slamming it against the cracked stone wall.
"Watch it! You'll destroy the house!" A childish voice yelled from a bedroom. We had four small bedrooms, yet we still made space by having one small bed on each chamber and a small wardrobe along with a desk and chair. We don't buy all house furniture to make our house look humble, we tend to save some space if needed.
"Yeah! What he said!" Another voice cried from the same bedroom. I don't know if it's whether Pim or Tim, either of them is fine- yet, deadly.
"Sorry!" I say apppolgeticaly.
I walked towards the boys' bedroom, but stepped on something pointy. The pain came from my right foot, I rose my leg and saw a needle stuck on my mid-foot.
"Pim! Tim!" I yelled.
I heard running footsteps coming to my direction. Two brunette boys were standing in front of me. No makings sounds or movements. I remove my bag from my shoulder, and drop it to the cloudy floor. I put my hands on my hips.
"Why is there a needle stuck on my boots?" I ask.
The boys bow there heads down in ashame. "Our coats ripped and decided to sew them with it. But we gave up and left it there, along with our old coats'." They both say. The boy from the right pointed at two coats stacked together.
"I'll fix 'em. Don't worry, Pim and Tim. They'll be good as new when I finish them." I say. I patted their head with both hands.
"By that way. Is Dray or Fin home yet?" I ask. They both shook their head, and rose them up. "No. But Fin came back and said he'll be working at Dahlia Village for the night." The boy from the left says. That's what I like about my twelve-year-old brothers. They both take turns and share. They know what to do without asking questions.
"Oh. . ." I sadly say. I look down at my bag and kneeled down to reach something from it. I unbuttoned the bag and pulled a plastic bag from it. I tossed the bag to the boys. The bag was filled with blueberries that I've grabbed from bushes when I was out scavenging the South Territory.
"It's blueberries." I say, I stood up and walked away to my bedroom. "Enjoy."
"Where did you get these?" They ask.
"I bought them from the market with my savings." I lie. The boys grinned and opened the plastic bag, munching on the berries with smiles. I smiled back. This was our nornal routine, I come back from Winter, I bring berries home with me, I ask about Fin and Dray, it is always the same answer, I give the berries to Pim and Tim, they happily eat them and ask where I got them, I lie and make my way to my bedroom. I walk on a small dark hall, leading to my bedroom door. I opened the wooden door and enter with a yawn. I fall on my back to feel the mattress of my bed. I grab a pillow and cuddle against its soft silky shell like a little girl. Minutes have ticked, I fell into a deep slumber in the cold temperature of my bedroom. Little did I know, my life will change and never be the same again. A deadly game was waiting for me.
YOU ARE READING
Game of Death
Teen FictionIris Quell is a normal hunter. A hunter that broke the rules. A rebellious hunter that never listened to others. Her life was a merry span until her father past away. Her mother grew unstable and was broke before the real tragedy had happened. Now...