DSMP One Shots and Short Stories

The Hunter And The Hunted

      Hello! Please, please, please be careful reading this story, as it's a bit dark. It deals with kidnapping, and I don't want anyone to get upset reading it! Please take care of yourself!

      This is related to the first chapter in this book, the story clip about George having a stalker. This wasn't part of what my co-writer and I wrote, but rather something I wrote on my own as a spin-off of sorts. It gives a few more details about our stalker, so you might be able to guess who he is this time, or at least get close.

      Please be careful reading this chapter! As I said above, it could be triggering or upsetting for some people. I am not attempting to romanticize it in any way, either. It's dark, and there are no love undertones here. George does not fall in love with this guy, I promise. He's fucked up, and we will have none of that.

      Anyway, I hope you enjoy. I did add some to this story tonight, and it's late where I am, so it may be a bit rougher than some of my other stories. Be kind when reading it!

      Stay safe and stay awesome!

                                                  Doodle

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      Pounding footsteps echoed through the forest, each one followed by strangled breaths. He couldn't stop, he couldn't stop, he had to keep going, he had to escape. Laughter echoed around him, seeming to come from every direction. He'd done this before, getting further into the hunting grounds each time. He left himself hints, ways to know where to go, where not to go. He had places to hide, too. But he'd passed all of that. He was in uncharted territory. He tried to keep his eyes peeled for new landmarks, new hiding spots, but his heart was pounding too loudly in his ears. He couldn't focus.

      "Oh George!"

      The voice sounded so much closer than before. George felt tears sting at his eyes as he pushed past the trees, trying to put some distance between himself and the man calling after him. Tree branches tore at his already ruined clothes, as if working with his captor in an effort to slow him down. Most people would truly never understand the feeling of being the prey to a predator. Humans aren't often put into that harrowing position. But George was, and had been for weeks. He felt every bit like a rabbit running for its life from the big bad wolf that had lured it in with charming banter and a guitar.

      His thoughts were quickly put on the back burner as he noticed a fallen, hollowed-out tree a bit to his right. Bingo. He wouldn't be able to keep running for much longer- his lungs already felt like they were being stabbed. This would be the perfect place to hide. He ran over to it and dropped to the ground beside the opening, trying to assess if he'd be able to fit in. He decided he'd have to as the sound of his pursuer's footsteps grew closer.

      The hunter was whistling now, some tune he'd played for George a few times since he'd woken up in this hell. He'd listened with open ears the first few times, hoping, praying that if he got on his nice side, the man would let him go. But after the first little hunting session, George had given up hope of escaping in any way other than running for his life.

      George pushed himself as far into the log as he could, his head just barely not poking out the other side. Through the opening, he spotted a decently sized rock. In a moment of panic, he struggled one of his arms free and grabbed the rock, then pulled it back into the hiding place as fast as he could.

      The whistling had stopped now, but the footsteps were ever closer. His captor was excellent at following trails, he'd come to realize. After a few more seconds, the sound of his walking was deadly close. He couldn't be more than 10 feet from the log.