The Hunt - Dream Team + BBH

Chapter 3: A Challenger Approaches

Clay didn't dare move even an inch as the pressure on the metal jammed into his back grew. He forced himself not to let out any audible noises of discomfort, remaining silent as he heard what almost sounded like thoughtful humming behind him.

He didn't recognize the voice, though truthfully it would've been more concerning if he did. The idea of a member of his village attacking him like this was disturbing and left his brows creased. Whoever it was who had spoken had an accent of sorts, but that too was unfamiliar to him. Perhaps the man behind him was from another village. Clay knew of rivalries between towns, though he couldn't recall any other villages being close enough to his own for there to be issues.

A pillager, perhaps? That idea was a bit more worrying, as pillagers often traveled in large parties. One man, one man Clay could take. Six or seven was a completely different story, however.

Swallowing the bile in his throat, Clay finally opened him mouth to speak. "What do you want? Supplies? I have nothing of value." His words were slow, statements clear, and voice void of any sort of emotion that could set the man behind him off. That didn't seem to make a difference though, as the moment he'd finished speaking the knife was suddenly pushed in further. Clay couldn't stop the hiss that escaped his lips this time as he felt the skin split beneath it and a warm wetness began to trickle down his back.

The twenty-one year-old remained frozen in place, breath catching in his throat as his thoughts seemed to fly by a mile a minute. This was another person, not some dumb monster he could trick or overpower. Well... if he could get this knife out of his back...

Clay was a rather sizable man; he had to be in order to fulfill his purpose. If he could overpower whoever was behind him and get hold of their weapon - if it were superior to his own that'd be even better - then there was a chance of escape.

"I know," the male behind him finally spoke, his voice higher pitched than Clay's own. "But I'm not surprised that's where your simple mind traveled to." The blond grit his teeth a little at that, but he once again said nothing, hardly moving aside from breathing, and even then all movements were minimal.

If his attacker wasn't here for his valuables, Clay couldn't think of what he wanted. He didn't seem to be a thief, nor a pillager if the others hadn't already shown up. Does he just want to kill me? What is there to gain from that?

"Stay still." The knife pressed deeper into his back, earning a slight gasp from Clay. He hadn't even realized he'd shifted, hand drifting towards the hilt of his sword subconsciously.

Now though, he found himself a tad confused. If the man wanted nothing from him, why the hell was he still alive? It made little sense, unless his assaulter wasn't planning on killing him at all, and if he was: was he afraid to?

"So what's your plan here?" The words escaped Clay's mouth before he could silence himself. Perhaps he could distract whoever it was long enough to find an opening. "You don't want my stuff, and you haven't killed me yet. So what is it you want?" His voice was monotonous as he spoke, back beginning to sting harshly. Even with the adrenaline still pulsing through his veins, he was starting to feel it burn.

Whoever was behind him shifted on their feet, something he could unfortunately feel because of the blade currently poked into his spine.

"Yet is the key word in that statement." If the male was attempting to sound intimidating, he was failing in Clay's eyes. If not for his current predicament, he might've even chuckled in response.

"Yet," Clay agreed off-handedly, humming softly in reply. "So why haven't you done it yet?" Another shift - Notch that hurt's a lot. Between the stinging in his back and his adversaries uncertainty, Clay found himself growing more and more impatient.