Hunter and the Hunted (Septiplier)

~~ CHAPTER THREE ~~

Twenty-four months, twenty-four fucking months alone and this is who I find? It just doesn't register right away, I mean, Mark and I had known each other for years. They told me he was dead, I mourned for this bastard but here he is? What's happening?

"W-wha?" I say as my eyes widen at the memories I had with Mark. Sitting in my living room playing video games and laughing. How could he be alive?

I was looking at the ground letting my grip on the blade falter slightly. "Jack?" He says. I snap back to reality and press the blade against his skin, "Jack, stop it's Mark." He says, eyes falling from my hair, to my eyes and then to my hand. "No." I simply say in return, "What?" He asks in confusion, "I said no!" I yelled causing a slight echo, I know I'm going to regret that. He freezes and I lean in closer to his face gritting my teeth, "Mark died." I spit through clenched teeth causing my jaw to hurt, so I release a little pressure on it. There was a sinking look in Marks eyes as he scanned mine. His eyes were still the same dark wood brown, the same damn colour I mourned over. I could feel tears in my eyes, I hadn't cried since my ma passed, the second time.

I pulled my eyes from his and lifted the blade a little further up his throat, but I couldn't do it, I feel so weak. I mean how could I, he was the man I fell in love with all those years ago, and the memories were flying around my head hitting every nerve the swung past. I didn't feel those feelings anymore but there was something about this that forced me into self- argument, ripping at my own thoughts, trying to figure out what to do. Suddenly my mind, just, went blank.

I look into his eyes and lower the knife, stepping back. No matter what happened I couldn't even force myself to kill him.

"Jack?" He asks again. I stand motionless, "What happened to you?" He whispers looking deep inside my eyes, exploring every secret and emotion. By the look that spread across his face I am guessing he must have seen it, I have noticed it too once or twice when looking in the mirror. I wasn't the same man I was back then, and he could see it in my eyes. "The end happened." I replied softly, not letting emotion seep onto my features. I backed away a little further coming to the conclusion that I just couldn't look at him anymore. I turn on my heals and walk forwards leaving him behind me, although I knew that I'd have to double back because he was standing directly underneath my refuge.

"Jack, wait?" I heard from behind me, I turn to see him jogging my way so I do what I have to, I sprint. To my surprise he can almost keep up, although he had always been fit. I sneak a glance behind me and see him still sprinting hard. I turn and jump reaching for a branch and swinging up and over it feet first until I was upside down, landing against the branch on my stomach. It didn't hurt, but I could feel a slight burning sensation on my palms and fingers. I pull myself up into a crouching position on the single branch keeping balance and looking back down at him, he looked awe struck and that kinda made me feel good. "Jack please?" He pleads slowing, his chest heaving in and out. I leap upwards wrapping my hands around another branch and swinging my legs back and forth building up momentum before I let go and soar to my desired position. I cling onto the next tree on the other side of the fast moving, yet deep river that flowed in between the two. I balance myself and swing out landing back on the ground rolling on my shoulder and back before getting back up and turning to Mark.

"What are you doing?" He shouts from the other side. I feel a white rage rush through my entire body as I grip the knife's carved handle and turn around again. "Jack, what are you-." I don't let him finish before I whirl around and peg the knife at him. It lodges itself into the ground at his feet and he jumps back in response looking at it. I took that moment to jump back into the trees almost running up the branches trying to escape every tear-soaked memory that passed through me like a wash of pain. By the time he looked back to where I was previously, I was gone again. I was good at that, creating a diversion and then escaping. He was no threat to me physically no, but mentally, he would be my down fall.

He pulled the knife from the ground and sunk cross-legged into the mud. He brings his legs out and pulls them towards himself resting his elbows on them and examining the knife more closely, I would need that back, but not right now. Another challenge for another time.

I make my way back to the platform going around the area I had left Mark. When I came down I hadn't dropped the rope, so I would have to climb up, which I guess was no big deal. Once I was back up the top I realised that I had left Sheba hanging eight meters below me. I looked over the edge to see her sleeping in the leaves, still ducked down and cautious. I pulled her up and she stretched pulling herself from the pulley and sitting next to me. The triangular platform wasn't very big, but it was enough. There was a dark green tarp tied up higher above us, it was enough to keep the rain off, most nights, but winter was hard. I had built everything myself, apart from a small chest of draws. I only used it to keep supplies in; it had only two draws, one for food, and one for whatever else. I also keep an old crate in one corner filled with weapons that I had made or salvaged from different places or people.

In the top draw there was an old broken piece of mirror that I kept to keep track of how I looked. I pick it up and gaze into my own eyes. Sheba nuzzled into the side of my neck as I hold it. She is literally so large you could mistake her for a wolf.

I turned my attention back to the mirror. There was something missing, something I had lost a very long time ago.

Innocence.