Creation

Hunting Gone Wrong

This chapter is an entry for the Round 2 of FanFic Bootcamp.

Newt Scamander had never imagined that shortly after his occurrences with the MACUSA, he'll got contacted by Burkinabé Ministry of Magic, specifically by the Vyumbe Division; the creatures-controlling one.

Instead of sulking that his book writing should be delayed, Newt was beyond eager. As a famous magizoologist, the prospect of helping to tame a beast sounds appealing for him.

And here he is, on a lifeless village in East Africa, hunting for a XXXXX classified magical beast, Nundu. Although Newt has gotten one kept in his suitcase, it doesn't mean he's already an expert in taming it. When he caught one, luck played its role.

Newt narrowed his eyes and tightened his mask, aware of the dangerous beast. He searched for its gigantic physique, with a wand firm in his grip. Crouching behind him are hundreds of Burkinabé's best wizards, ready to unleash their paralyzing spells.

Just then, his eyes caught a creeping darkness on a nearby underbrush, disappearing as soon as he noticed it.

So, the Nundu is lurking silently nearby, possibly targeting them already.

Truly said, suddenly it sprang out from its shrubby cover, its paws abruptly knocked him down, sharp claws harshly scarring his bare neck. He squirmed and struggled against its heavy weight, avoiding its venomous breath. He also avoided touching the prickly, inflatable throat.

Its massive mane swept over Newt's face, and disgusting liquids dropped out of its fangs, staining his coat. Its infuriated roar instantly blew Newt's cooked plan away.

He concentrated on controlling the leopard-like beast without the help of his wand, which got knocked off his grasp earlier during the tackle.

Newt grunted. His hands are no longer strong enough to distance its teeth from him, and as long as none of the spells caused a serious damage to the creature, the chance of taming is getting slimmer.

Killing it also isn't an option, thanks to its rare predicate.

Desperately, he tried to resurface his undeniable weapon after all futile attempts involving his strength; his charm to magical creatures.

Strengthening his heart, he reached for its thick mane, brushing them carefully. Aware that the human's up for something, the Nundu growled fiercely, tried to ditch his fingers away. Newt's hand daringly patted its coarse and dark fur gently, while muttering in a soothing manner.

Furious, the beast dug its teeth on Newt's wrist, while writhing out of a binding spell the wizards just cast. Newt tried to bear the searing pain, and he hasn't given up yet.

Suddenly, an uncomfortable, flaming sensation seeped through his nostrils. He tried his best to remain conscious, but his eyelids have drooped.

The poison is reacting torturously, now weakening his limbs.

He can't keep track of its decision any longer, since his eyes have surrendered.

An enormous weight mercilessly befell upon him. A deep stab on his arm followed.

A viscous wetness washed over his face. He was unable to perceive whether the beast decided to trust him slowly, or guessing his flesh's taste.