(Hunting) Bawannadon: Spikehorne vs The Deerman

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This story is action packed fun adventure that follows a character named Spikehorne. I wrote this book because it offers a different style to tell traditional stories of hunting wild game. Instead of the normal stories told by your grandpa, or grandma. Even though those are some of my favorite. There is a twist which makes this story little more unique, so stay tuned.

A sharp stinging pain ran across my shoulder. Like a collection of razor sharp knives had pierced through my skin, but with this excruciating pain came a sense of relief. I could finally breathe again. When I opened my eyes the hogs tusk was embedded deep into my shoulder, and he held me up like a doll. Finally, I could see the face of my foe. His eyes were bloodshot red, and a face blacker than the dark. His teeth were painted an orangish red, and an odor that wreaked like death. All of the horror stories of this swamp were true. Hogzilla was no myth, and I was his next victim. The beast swung his head from side to side, slapping my body into the mud with each thrust. Even though the mud was soft, it felt like cement. If I did not act fast I surely would be a goner. With every ounce of strength I had left, I reached for the handle of my hatchet, and popped it from its holder. I then gathered up just a little more effort, and slammed the tip of my blade into the floppy ear of the hog.