The Hunter

by HunterBraxton

Chapter 4

Click click click click

"The buck was that?" the soon-to-be dead guy said.

Hunter aimed his Peacemaker at the man's (stallion's?) head, he could see him fairly clearly. To begin with he was incredibly scrawny, almost anorexic. He had a brown coat with a short cropped blonde mane. He was wearing a stained wife beater and baggy blue jean shorts that went down to the middle of his shins. An outfit hunter would describe as the white trash uniform. He couldn't tell what color his eyes were, but he could tell that he lacked a horn and wings. He glanced at the mare on the ground, she was slightly harder to see because two garbage cans were blocking the light. She had a pink coat, blue mane, and had a horn on her head. She was wearing a sky blue blouse with a flower patterned, white, knee length skirt. She was covering her face with her arms, making it impossible to see her eyes.

Hunter returned his focus to the... Stallion? Yeah, that's what we're calling them. He focused on the stallion again. He aimed right between the eyes that were now looking right in his direction.

"Hey, buddy, I don't know who the buck you are, but stay the buck out of this." The stallion slurred.

"Bitch." Hunter said. Then pulled the trigger.

BOOM

The revolver kicked back, making his hand jolt backwards. He saw the bullet impact with his skull. His head snapped back. The air around him was filled with his blood flying out. It covered the wall opposite the bar, it covered one of the windows of the bar. And that poor girl, oh that poor girl. The blood was in her hair, it was on her shirt, and it most certainly, was on her face. The stallion fell to the ground, dead as can be.

For a second, there was nothing. The bar had gone silent. The girl, no, mare, the mare's sobs had stopped. There wasn't a sound to be heard except the echo of Hunter's gunshot. The mare looked at the body, staring at it, whimpering ever so slightly.

And then the bitch screamed.

"AHHHHH" The mare let out the most high pitched scream imaginable. It hurt Hunter's ears far more than the shot he just fired. Then all hell broke loose inside the bar.

So Hunter ran. He turned on his heel and took off the way he came, pistol still in hand.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK." He repeated in his head as he ran.

Soon he came to the edge of the business district. The only thing between him and the residential area he came through was a street. As he ran down the alley the street at the other end was suddenly lit up in blue light, then he heard the siren. It was a familiar yet unfamiliar sound. He recognized it as pre-WWII police siren. Hunter pressed himself flat against the nearest wall. The police car raced by, he didn't have very long to look, but it confirmed what he was already suspecting. Their automotive technology was only equivalent to the 1920s in his world. He ran to the end of the alleyway, stopping to check that the street was clear. As soon as he was sure, he sprinted across. His target was a fence into someone's backyard. He ran up, put his left hand on a post, and vaulted over it.

The next fence, however, created a little problem. It wasn't a easily jump-able one, it was a six foot tall privacy fence. He ran up and grabbed the top with both hands, still holding his revolver. Then he planted his left foot in the ground, and his right as high as he could on the fence. With a little jump and pull he climbed over the fence. Then, as he was jumping down, his foot got caught on it. He fell foward, the ground rushing towards him.

"Oomph." He hit the ground hard, his revolver flying from his grasp. "Aw, shit." He started feeling at the grass, searching desperately for his trusted sidearm. "Come on, where the hell are you?" Then he put his hand down on something metal, he grabbed it up, feeling it all over. "Oh thank goodness." He said, returning the gun to it's holster. He got back on his feet and continued on hopping the other side with much more success.

One hour later.

Hunter opened the door to his house, trudging inside he closed it back behind him. He closed his eyes and sighed, his back pressed against the cold metal of the door. He reached up and flicked the deadbolt locked with a single finger. Hunter was tired, and on top of being tired, he was just done.

Absolutely done.

Yesterday he was living a normal life. He was going to a great college, with a bright future ahead of him designing the next greatest cars to run the roads. Hell, as soon as he left his town, he might have even been able to get a good girlfriend. Now he's stuck in a different world filled with mutant horses. He wasn't going to finish college. He wasn't going to design cars. He wasn't going to get a girlfriend.

...

He wasn't going to see his friends and family again.

Hunter stood there for a minute, letting it sink in. He had already accepted the girlfriend thing, he had accepted that a while ago. Ever since a little 'incident' when he was sixteen most people, girls especially, didn't like to be around him. He didn't want to think about it. Pushing himself back up he walked into the kitchen. His glass from earlier was still sitting on the counter. He grabbed it and poured himself another glass of whiskey. He raised his glass, toasting to whatever the fuck, then knocked it back in one go.

Setting his glass in the sink he retired to his bedroom. He hung his rifle in its usual place, and took off his holster and placed it across the back of his chair. Stripping down to his underwear he laid down on his bed. He laid there for a while, staring up at the ceiling in complete blackness and thinking about life. Well, thinking might be an overstatement. With two glasses of Jack down the hatch he wasn't really capable of much thought. Soon the alcohol started taking affect, as his eyes grew heavier, he only had but one last word running through his head.

'Why?'

Twilight couldn't stand the thought of getting out of bed. She could barely sleep last night after whatever happened at the Rusty Horseshoe. She had never even heard a gunshot before last night. Sure, the guards carried them everywhere, but they never have to use them. What the hay could have gone down that a guard had to use his firearm? She got out of bed and put on a fresh set of clothes for the day, a simple pair of blue jeans and a purple t-shirt. Then she headed into her bathroom to do something about her bedmane.

As she stood in front of her mirror brushing her purple mane she thought about all the possibilities. Then the one possibility that very nearly made her shit herself crossed her mind. Terrorists. In recent months a terrorist cell had risen up in Equestria. They go by the name Solis Mortem, or Sun's Death. Their goal is to overthrow the princesses and to install a government run solely by their leader, whoever that may be. Whenever they issued threats it was always from 'Our Glorious Leader.' Then she had a brilliant idea.

"Rarity!" She said. "If anyone is going to know anything it's going to be her!"

She quickly finished getting herself together and headed downstairs. Her loyal dragon assistant, Spike, was already downstairs putting away all the books from her human research last night. Spike was like a little brother to Twilight, hell, years ago she was the one to hatch his egg with her magic. Spike was 15 years old, he stood around 5'10", pretty average for a drake of his age. He was wearing khaki pants and a purple, short-sleeve button-up shirt with a black tie.

"Spike, I'm going to Rarity's, I'll be back in a few," she said to the young dragon.

"Alright," was his only reply.

Twilight walked briskly down the street to the Carousel Boutique, Rarity's home and business. As she made her way she couldn't help but notice that ponies weren't bustling about like normal. The few that were out an about were walking quickly, not talking to anyone. They weren't their normal happy selves, they were scared. And they had all the right to be. Stuff like what happened last night just doesn't happen in Ponyville. Soon she was at Rarity's door, she reached up and gave it three good knocks.

"Coming!" A posh voice called from inside. Twilight could hear hoofsteps on the other side, and the unlocking of Rarity's door. "Welcome to Caro- Twilight! Deary! Please, come inside, it isn't safe to be on the streets." Rarity said, she was dressed in her usual way, more fancy than neccessary. Her mane was all done up and curled to perfection, and she was wearing an elegant white gown that went down almost to her hooves.

"I'm sure the guards have it handled, Rarity," Twilight said, walking inside.

"I'm sure you're right, deary, but still, they don't know who did it."

"Did what,exactly?" Twilight asked.

"You haven't Heard?"

"No, that's what I came here to ask you about actually."

"Wow, I found out the details within minutes this morning. Come, let me make us some tea and I'll tell you everything." Rarity lead her to her kitchen where she sat her down at her table while she brewed some tea for the two of them. A few minutes later she was back with two cups in her hands. "Okay, here's what happened, last night at about ten, Royal Ribbon got dragged out of the Rusty Horseshoe by some drunkard named Dusty Wagon. He took her in the alleyway behind the place and held her at knife point and told her to start taking her clothes off..."

"He was going to rape her?" Twilight interrupted, absolutely shocked.

"Yes," Rarity said, "then there was some clicking noise that distracted Dusty. Twilight, there was another stallion in the alley and he pulled out a gun."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes, then Dusty told him to move along, but that other colt, he called him a 'bitch' and then he shot him right in the head."

"A 'bitch'? He called him a female dog?"

"I guess, so. Not really much of an insult, but poor Royal, the poor dear had blood all over her."

"Sweet Celestia."

"I know, that poor darling's clothes must be ruined."

"Rarity, is the state of her clothes really important?"

"Why yes, darling, it is."

"... Rarity, no."

"Rarity, YES!"

"Oh my Celestia, Rarity. Okay, well, thanks for the tea and story, but I've got to go now. I'll talk to you later."

"Alright, deary, take care. Oh, Fluttershy and I are going to the spa tomorrow, care to join us? My treat."

"Umm, sure. What time?"

"twelve sharp, darling."

"Alright, see you then."

"Ta ta, darling."

Twilight left Rarity's shop, as soon as she gets on a tangent about clothes there's no stopping her. Twilight walked down the street aimlessly, thinking about what Rarity had told her. She was tremendously thankful that it wasn't Solis Mortem that was behind it. She was about to go home, but she still had so many questions. As she came to an intersection she looked down the other street, a few blocks down she could see the Rusty Horseshoe, surrounded by guards. She stopped walking, and watched for a minute. She couldn't go over there, even though she was the Element of Magic, and Princess Celestia's personal student, there were still some boundaries she couldn't cross. Guard business was most definitely not her business. Plus, she really didn't want to be involved in anything that involves a body. Like, she really did not want to be involved.

Soon Twilight found herself back at the tree library that she called a home. Before she entered she checked her mailbox, opening it there was a small stack of envelopes inside. She grabbed them and went inside, as she entered she started sorting through the mail.

"Bill, bill, bill, junk, bill, junk, junk, junk," she listed off, tossing the envelopes on her desk. "Letter, ooo, a letter. Wait, this is Spike's," she said, "SPIKE! You have a letter." She tossed the letter on the desk with the rest of them. Sitting down in her desk chair, she thought about what to do next. She needed to find out more about that human. Getting up from her chair she made her way to the nonfiction stacks, the T section. "Traveler, traveler, traveler," she said, looking for any book that may have some information on him. Finding the area with books on traveling she scavenged through them, looking for anything about the Traveler, not on actual traveling. After several minutes, her search was fruitless. "UGH," she groaned. "SPIKE! Can you write a letter to the princess for me?"

"About what?" He asked from upstairs.

"Can you ask her if she has any books on a human called the Traveler?"

"Are you still obsessed with that?"

"I'M NOT OBSESSED!"

"Whatever. By the way, can you go in the kitchen and see if we have any Cheerilee-O's?"

"Sure." She went to the kitchen and started looking around for any of his cereal. After several cabinets she couldn't find any.

"Did you find any?" Spike asked, now standing right beside her. His shirt was now untucked and he wasn't wearing a tie anymore. He was holding a piece of parchment and a quill.

"No, sorry, Spike. We'll get some more later."

"Its alright," he said, moving to her left side so that she wouldn't be looking into the main part of the library to look at him. "So, tell me all about what Rarity said."

"Oh my Celestia, Spike, you are not gonna believe this." She went on to tell him everything that Rarity had told her, failing to notice the white filly with pink and purple hair putting her shirt back on as she walked to the door. Before she left she blew a kiss at Spike and gave him a little wave. "And what happened to your shirt, Spike."

"I just wasn't feelin' it," he said without missing a beat. "Now, what did you want me to say to Celestia?"

Beep, beep, beep, beep

At exactly eight o'clock Hunter's alarm went off. Silencing it, the young man groggily sat up in bed and cradled his head in his hands.

"Goddamn, how much did I have to drink last night?" He said. Glad that his alcohol, and possibly LSD, fueled nightmare was over. Forests, horse people, a gunshot, and running. That was one hell of a trip. He got out of bed and put on some clothes. Walking into his living room he stole a glance at the front door, he thought about looking outside. 'It was just a dream, dude,' he thought. 'But maybe it wouldn't hurt to look anyway.' He went to the door, as he wrapped his fingers around the knob he paused for a second. There was two possibilities, he was gonna open this door and there was either gonna be his neighborhood, or that god forsaken forest. He undid the deadbolt and turned the knob, closing his eyes as he did so. With the door fully opened he still held his eyes shut, preparing for what he was about to see. Hearing the chirping of birds, he opened his eyes.

"No..."

In front of him there was nothing but trees. He wasn't dreaming. He was in the goddamned forest with the fucking town filled with the fucking horse people. "You've got to be fucking kidding me!" he exclaimed. Everything from yesterday was real. Hunter slammed the door shut and started pacing around the room quickly. "FUCK!" He yelled. Closing his eyes again, he stopped walking and took several deep breaths. Opening them, he made his way to the kitchen and poured himself a bowl of Cheerios and a glass of orange juice. Returning to the living room he sat down on the couch with his food, turning the TV on to Fox Sports South. Coming from the TV was the opening tune of one of his favorite fishing shows.

"Now the sun is just starting to climb up over the treetops," The singer sang, "And its gonna be a beautiful day that's plain to see."

Yes, he was watching Bill Dance. He liked his show, Bill had been doing it for over thirty years, and even though Hunter had been fishing for as long as he could remember, it was still good to listen to the professionals. As he was happily watching his show and eating, trying to forget about all the bullshit for a few brief minutes, his phone started ringing. Picking it up the caller ID had the word Dumbass across the screen. 'Great, dear old dad,' Hunter thought before pressing the talk button.

"Hello."

"Son!"

"Hi, dad."

"How's it going?"

"About as good as it can go, considering I'm in a different universe."

"When do you think you're coming back?"

"I really don't know. I just woke up in this crazy place yesterday, I was hoping I'd just wake up back in our world this morning."

"Oh, well, that's a shame."

"Yep, sooner or later I'm gonna run out of whiskey."

"Now, son, you know that stuff can't solve your problems."

"It can for a couple hours. Did mom tell you about the horse people?"

"I heard about that. Did you talk to any of them?"

"Not the ones I told her about. I did sneak into their little village last night, almost got caught by this couple making out on a bridge."

"Nuh uh. What else happened?"

"Weeeeell," Hunter began, telling his father about his night, including the last bit.

"YOU DID WHAT?"

"Well what else was I supposed to do? This girl was crying her eyes out about to be raped by some deadbeat!"

"You don't just pull your guns out and start shooting, you call the police!"

"At the time I didn't even know they had police! Plus this dude was drunk and waving a knife around. Old boy wouldn't have listened to a damn thing I said. Plus I couldn't get that involved. How would you feel if one of them just showed up in Thomasville with weapons, huh?"

"I think he'd need to be arrested and studied to make sure he wasn't a threat."

"Exactly, I was already taking a big enough risk doing that, I couldn't get involved with the cops."

"Why not? You're not a threat are you? If you don't want to hurt them then why would they have anything to worry about?"

"Because I can't guarantee that I wouldn't be seen as a threat."

"I still think you didn't have to go and kill the man. Just like what happened last time, look what happened."

"Shut the fuck up! You know, throughout my entire life you've always had something negative to say about my choices. The classes I'm taking, my choice of automobile, my choice of fishing lure, including on days when I caught twice as many fish as you, and let's not forget about the day of the 'incident' when mom almost got me KILLED! I've had it with you and your shit. I don't think I'm gonna try to come home. I'm gonna sit my ass in this fucked up backwards world just because you aren't here. Now fuck off, you fat cunt." Pressing the end button Hunter tossed his phone to the other end of the couch.

He fucking hated that narcissistic bastard. On top of him always having something negative to say, every little thing had to be about him. But Hunter wasn't going to think about that right now. Instead, his thoughts drifted back to the incident.

RIIIIIIING

It was May 5, 2011 at 2:55 PM. Hunter picked up his book bag and headed for the door of the classroom. Finally it was Friday, and he couldn't get to the parking lot fast enough. Hunter was sixteen years old, in his sophomore year of high school, and had the beginning stubble of his trademark beard. Leaving the school building he made his way to the sophomore parking row, right there near the front was his bright yellow 1974 Volkswagen Thing. He fucking loved his thing, as weird as it was. The easiest way to describe it would be Volkswagen's take on making their own version of a Jeep. He had bought it for $1500 from a guy who was using it as a hunting vehicle. It needed a complete restoration, and Hunter gave it one. He had it running, and dropping panties just in time for summer.

Crowded around his chariot was his friends and girlfriend. Walking up he spread his arms and greeted them.

"What's up, bitches?" He said to them, heading straight for his girlfriend, Katelynn, and wrapped his arms around her. Hunter was so lucky to have her. She was one of those punk girls, but that didn't matter to him. She was a head shorter than him, had long, natural black hair, the brightest green eyes, and holy shit did she have a body. She had a fairly slim build, by no means super skinny, she was just right. Her breasts weren't very big, but they were certainly handfuls. And her ass, oooh, it was an ass to die for.

"Bout time you got out here." Hunter's friend, Cody, said. Cody had been Hunter's best friend for as long as he could remember. He was the same height as Hunter. His hair was short and blonde, his eyes were blue. Cody was damn near a walking skeleton, mostly because he had an extremely high metabolism. Seriously, this dude ate like a cow. "So, you still coming to my place tonight?"

"Hell yeah," Hunter said. "Boys! Tonight, ain't a single one of us gonna be able to remember our names," he said, causing a round of cheers from his gang. "Alright, everybody load up, we got shit to do." Everyone went to their respective vehicles, except Katelynn. "You're still coming, right?" He asked her, taking hold of her hands.

"Yeah, but I have to go to work for a few hours first though," she said.

"Alright, I'll see you later then." They leaned in and gave each other a quick kiss before they too left to tend to business.

Getting in his car he pushed down the clutch and turned the ignition, immediately the engine roared to life. Shoving it into first he pulled out the lot and onto the street, shifting through the gears he drove home. In about fifteen minutes he was pulling into his drive. Shutting off the Thing and putting on the parking brake, he got out and walked to the door. Unlocking it, he went straight to his bedroom and tossed his book bag on his bed. Reaching underneath the bed, he pulled out what he was bringing to the party that night. Two whole bottles of Jacky D. It wasn't easy getting these. He had to pull some serious strings and pay some extra dough.

"Hell Yeah."

On his bed, was a stack of clothes that his mother had left for him to put away. He grabbed a shirt off the top and hung it up in his closet, repeating the process for the rest of the clothes, putting them into their places. As he was doing this his front door opened, and two sets of footsteps entered. Hunter was frozen. No one was supposed to be here this early.

"Hello? Anybody home?" The voice of an unknown man said. "Check the place."

Thinking quickly, Hunter dropped the shirt he was about to hang up, and reached into his closet to pull out his trusty 30-30. Then he pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened up the messages between him and his mother.

"call the cops. send them to out house. dont call me." He quickly typed out and sent to his mother, completely ignoring all the lessons on proper grammar he had received. He opened a drawer on his desk and got out his box of bullets. Crouching down on the far side of his bed from the door, he quietly slid the bullets into his rifle. Once he was fully loaded with 7 bullets, as quietly as he could, which wasn't very quiet, he worked the lever on his rifle, chambering the first round. Pausing, he listened carefully to make sure that he wasn't heard. Not hearing either of them start his direction, he calmed down just slightly.

'It's gonna hurt like a bitch if I have to use this thing.' Hunter thought. Looking back over his shoulder, he spotted his bag of ear plugs sitting on his dresser. He carefully set his gun down on his bed and grabbed the bag. Taking two of them he individually rolled them around in his fingers and them inserted them in his ears.

"Shoot to thrill. Play to Kill. Too many women on too many pills. Yeah. Shoot to thrill..."

It was at that exact moment that Hunter realized he was fucked.

Hunter couldn't fucking believe it. His phone was ringing. At all the possible times someone could have called it had to have been right then, didn't it? And of all the times he didn't have his phone on silent, right then just absolutely had to be one of those moments. Pulling it out of his pocket to shut up the infernal device he saw who was calling him. 'Mom.'

And it was at that exact moment Hunter realized his mother was a dumbass.

"What the fuck is that?"

'FUCK.' Hunter thought. He double pressed the lock button to end the call, and tossed it on his bed. He grabbed his rifle and leveled it at the door, aiming for a spot about five feet from the floor, right where someone's head would be. He heard footsteps heading his way, each step a resounding bang against the wood floors. The intruder stopped right in front of his door. Hunter's eyes grew wide, his heart was beating hard enough to drive nails. His breaths were slow and controlled, barely. He was fucking terrified. A hand closed around his doorknob and it started to turn.

The door opened and Hunter could see the intruders face. His face was incredibly scrawny, his skin was taut against his skull. His blue eyes were lifeless and sunken in. Then Hunter realized he knew this face. The young man standing in front of him was a senior at his high school. His name was Jacob Gardner. He was very popular with the redneck/white trash crowd at school. Mostly because he was a known dealer of spice and crystal meth. Hunter also realized that he was holding a Glock in his right hand. Jacob turned his head slightly and noticed Hunter.

Time slowed almost to a stop. Seconds turned into minutes as neither of them moved. The little bead on the front sight of Hunter's rifle was sitting right in the middle of Jacob's face. Hunter's opponent's face started to twist as he realized that Hunter was right there, and his arm slowly started to rise. Hunter didn't move, but he could feel the muscles in his trigger finger tensing up. He could feel his finger move slowly, millimeter by millimeter as he pulled the trigger till he felt a satisfying click, then his finger stopped; unable to pull anymore.

He watched as the hammer gracefully fell through the air, quickly closing the gap between it and the firing pin. It connected with a sharp pop as a little vibration traveled throughout the gun. Then he felt a small rumble as his rifle shuddered in his hands. A quiet roar could be heard as the bullet ran down the barrel.

BOOM

The .30 caliber slug flew through the air towards its target. Hunter could just barely see the little gray dot as it flew at supersonic speeds and collided with Jacob's forehead. A small, red hole appeared as he head jerked back, his eyes going wide and then almost completely popping out. He started to fall backwards as the back of his head exploded, coating the wall behind him with the crimson shade of blood. Jacob impacted the wall with a thud, then crumbled up on the floor. He was dead long before he hit the floor, really he was probably dead before he hit the wall.

"JACOB!"

'Oh shit, there was another guy.' Hunter thought. He got up and walked over to his door, cycling the lever on his rifle again, this time not even bothering to be quiet for obvious reasons. Peeking around the corner he saw the other intruder. This guy was a senior at Hunter's high school too. He didn't know what his name was and at this point he really didn't give a shit. He did however know that he was Jacob's ass kisser. And much like Jacob, he was also holding a Glock. As soon as he saw Hunter poking around the corner he raised his pistol. Hunter had just enough time to jump back as he fired three rounds in his direction.

"FUCK YOU, HUNTER!" He yelled.

Hunter popped around the corner again firing his rifle in the asshole's direction, then quickly retreating. Holding his rifle against his shoulder he pushed down on the lever, the mechanisms pulling the casing out and spitting it up into the air. The used brass spun in the air as Hunter pulled back, chambering a fresh bullet.

"Fuckin' missed, bitch." He yelled at Hunter before double tapping at him. Hunter peeked around the corner only to pull back as splinters flew from a .40 Cal bullet impacting with his door frame. He stuck is rifle around the corner and blind fired a round at him. He was met with the sound of what was the TV in the kitchen being destroyed by a bullet and then smashing onto the tile floor, meaning that he had missed by several feet.

Hunter cycled another round. His breathing was out of control and he was shaking from the fear and adrenaline. There was another gunshot and the sound of a bullet impacting a wall, then a door. Then Hunter felt the most intense pain he had ever felt in his life. Falling to the floor he clutched his shoulder. "AHH, fuck," Hunter shouted. Pulling his hand away it was covered in red. That son of a bitch had shot through the wall.

"Got ya', bitch." The fucking bastard in Hunter's living room yelled at him. Hunter was on his knees on the floor, his left hand holding his rifle and his right holding his wound. The pain was horrendous, but thankfully the pain was slightly dulled by the adrenaline. Hunter could hear footsteps, that fucker was coming for him. But Hunter wasn't down for the count. No. Hunter was pissed.

Hunter let go of his shoulder and wrapped his hand around the grip of his rifle. Twisting himself around he dived into the hallway, ignoring the shearing pain in his arm as he landed on Jacob's body. He was already aiming down the sights of his rifle. Jacob's boy toy was five feet in front of him, his pistol was aimed upwards, where he thought Hunter was going to be. He realized a little too late that he was actually beneath him. Hunter's sights were trained on his chest. Without a bit of hesitation he pulled the trigger.

BOOM

The rifle slammed into Hunter's shoulder, causing an immense amount of pain in the other. The bitch in front of him dropped his pistol as his hands shot for his throat. Hunter's bullet had hit him in the neck and ripped it to pieces. He dropped to his knees, looking Hunter right in the eyes, his life visibly slipping away. He gurgled as he drowned on his own blood. Then he finally crumpled into a ball, his last bit of life quickly slipping away. Hunter sat up, looking at him.

"Who's the bitch now, huh?" Hunter asked him. With one last little gurgle he stopped moving, his blood pooling on the floor. Hunter sat there for a second, letting himself catch up.

"I got my gun at the ready gonna fire at will. Cause I shoot to thrill and I'm ready to kill." His fucking phone was ringing again. He got up and painfully walked over towards it. Laying down his rifle on the bed he looked at the caller ID, it was his mother. AGAIN. He tapped the answer button and put it to his ear.

"Hello."

"Hunter, what's going on?"

"Did you call the cops?"

"No. I'm not gonna call them tell I know what's happening."

"Well, two dudes with guns just waltzed right into our house. So now there's two dead bodies on the floor and I have a bullet hole in my shoulder."

"Oh my god, Hunter. Are you alright?"

"What the fuck type of question is that? I just killed two dudes and got shot! No I'm not alright! Why the hell didn't you call the cops? If I say to call them and not to call me then that means shit just got real."

"Hunter, I'm so sorry." She was bawling at this point.

"Whatever, I'm gonna hang up now and call them myself."

"Hunter, no! Wait!" That was all she got out before he ended the call, then immediately dialed 911.

"Hello, 911, what's your emergency?"

"I need police and an ambulance to seven hundred Remington Street. I've been shot."

Hunter was still sitting on the couch. He hadn't touched his cereal for several minutes. He looked down at it and continued eating. When he was done he washed out his bowl and put it away. Returning to his bedroom he grabbed a fresh set of clothes and headed to the bathroom. Once inside he pulled his shirt up over his head and tossed it in the hamper. He hesitated before removing his pants. Instead, he looked at himself in the mirror. His brown hair was still short, his beard needed a little bit of trimming, but he wasn't worried about that right now. He looked at his bare left shoulder. It still had a red circle on it where the bullet had exited three years ago. He reached up and ran his fingers over it, the pain had long since faded away and he felt nothing. Sighing, he stopped thinking about it and continued on with his shower.

'This is gonna be one hell of a ride.' He thought.