The Hunter

The old man scurried through the woods, a look of great distress over his face. He came upon a creek where he bent over and gulped the waters madly. A young fisherman looked on from a short distance. “Are you alright old man?” hollered the fisherman. The old man looked startled for an instance. “No, I am being hunted” the old man cried out, “I haven’t the strength to outrun him anymore.” And with that, the old man disappeared into the dense brush. The fisherman was startled. He dropped his pole and pulled out a small pistol from his vest and ran towards the direction where he last saw the old man. He feared calling out for the senior as it might alert the hunter as to his position. A short distance later, the fisherman found the old man laying on the ground in agony. The old man looked up at the fisherman. “He got me son, he got me.” The wide-eyed fisherman quickly turned his pistol into the surrounding trees. “Where did he go old man?” The old man managed a slight chuckle. “Its no use son, he is too quick. Never underestimate him, the greatest predator of them all!” The young man bent over looking to tend the old man’s wound but realized there was nothing to tend. “Uh where are…”, “Don’t” the old man interrupted, “don’t EVER underestimate him, for one day he will catch up with you too.” The old man let out a final gasp of air and was gone.