Predator

29

She stood frozen, covered in blood, looking terrifying, tasting the metallic tang of blood in her mouth, on the brink of collapse.

She ignored Liam's command, wiping the blood off her face, smearing it everywhere, unable to clean it off.

Behind her, the sound of mercenaries cutting into the elephant's head, scraping it. Occasionally, they hit the skull, lifting the knife high and smashing it down with a "thud, thud," like chopping ribs at a market. The sound made Amelia's legs weak. Before she could fall, Liam's arm scooped her up.

In May's Kenyan heat, Liam wore a short-sleeved shirt. With a grim expression, he lifted the hem to wipe her face, smearing blood and flesh on himself. He carried her back to the car.

S's voice echoed behind. "Skin it, too. Recently, the market likes to make beads from elephant skin."

"Liam," the pale-faced man with blood on his face and a mechanical prosthetic leg glinting in the sun, called out. "Remember to report for punishment. You know I don't like people making their own decisions."

Liam's boots sank into the mud. Without looking back, he replied, "Got it."

The off-road vehicle left the forest, the open savanna behind them littered with the headless elephant corpse, subject to the hunters' appraisal.

"The tusks are still too short."

"In recent years, all the long-tusked ones have been taken. The remaining ones are getting shorter, not worth it."

The elephant's trunk could no longer search for food.

It had finally fallen just a step away from the elephant grass, its stomach empty, watching its own dismembered body—the death knell of another animal, struck by endless greed.

Liam could only drive with one hand, struggling to restrain Amelia, who fought with all her might to grab the steering wheel or even attempted to jump out of the car.

His eyes fixed on the distant flat top of Mount Kilimanjaro, he scolded harshly. "There are Nile crocodiles, leopards, and lions nearby. You'll die if you go down."

"Who said you could die? Your life is mine."

Amelia bit his hand without speaking, leaving marks on his neck and body from her teeth. She was like a wounded animal, crying out for a way to vent.

The girl pulled a knife from her waist and pressed it to her own neck. "Let me out."

This threat was more effective than any previous struggle. Liam's veins bulged as he slammed the brakes. The off-road vehicle skidded, the dust and jacaranda petals flying in the wilderness's raw beauty.

He slowly turned his head, his dark eyes reflecting Amelia's resolute expression.

"I gave you the knife, and this is how you use it?"

Like a lazy jaguar licking its paw, Liam pressed her nape, rubbing the delicate skin with his thumb. "Facing difficulties and only thinking of escape—that's not courage, that's cowardice."

"Go ahead, cut your throat. It's the least wise way to die. It'll take 7-12 minutes to fully die, and you'll watch yourself die bit by bit." He paused. "When you're dead, I'll take you back, sew up your neck, and violate you daily... "

"Slap!" His words were interrupted by a sharp slap. His head turned to the side, a handprint visible on his cheek.

He licked his lips, inching closer to the culprit.

Just when Amelia thought he was going to hit her, pain shot through the back of her neck, and darkness consumed her. She couldn't hold the knife anymore.

...