The hound dogs cried in glee to be hunting on a night of two full moons. Their scent filled nostrils had won many prizes for Killin Hood on previous manhunts. He patrolled behind their weaponized paws blending into the foliage in traditional green camouflage. His hawkish eyes hid under crystalized aviators. Killin Hood began climbing swiftly up a hillside sending down showers of sand with his baby seal-skin boots.
The scoped crossbow scanned a woodland background. He was satisfied with the night vision picture. Killin Hood slid down the tree with his weapon loaded on his back. An arrow remained equipped in the additional compound bow gripped by a man of maximum agility. His sealed diving shoes thumped onto the ground. He was traveling packed for a big game hunting with the explosives, zipline, and much more in storage from Killin Company.
The breeze was strong enough to begin moving the dark cloud cover above. The majority of the moonlight hidden by thick cloud cover. The dogs nonstop barks echoed throughout the swamp, overexerting themselves chasing after the scent. Suddenly bright crystal scales flashed across the horizon and over extended snouts. Killin Hood taking aim was blinded momentarily from his scoped overlook. The shadow zipped towards a dark corner of the bog. The rain started to sprinkle from the storm beginning to brew overhead. The crossbow followed the target.
“Thwack,”.
The spiked arrow shaved off a chunk of Edward’s mangy beard. It splintered covering his body in debris. An ancient tree overgrown with beard lichen was harpooned behind him. Killin Hood clipped his belt to the newly minted zip-line. The crossbow planted into the soil like a fence post behind him. The line sagged under load as he zoomed down the hill over packs of his hound dogs with their tongues hanging out.
The trip was quick, dropping the hunter back on solid ground where the target had just been. The nearby wetland vibrated with the ear piercing roars of the zombie grizzly joining the chase. The hunter loudly sniffed the air quiet again. It was dead silent as he moved forward crouching to follow tracks.
The walls were closing in on Edward. He ran dazed and confused through the hazy hills, under the dark cloud that hangs over most violent people, while birds and crickets chirped alongside. A mad dash through thick fog, he struggled to traverse the spongy moss bleached center from where the treetops separated. The path curved onto least resistance in the nighttime. He sprinted through a field of ferns with the hook raised.
A line shot outward from Edward after the hook launched. He hit a lever and wires spun on the contraption where his hand had once been. The smoke poured from the gearbox reeling the fugitive away from danger after his hook. He flew through the air, flapping like an overweight turkey to where the line had become anchored.
“Smack,”.
A hard collision into wood switched Edward's vision to lights out.
“Ugh,” he groaned, awaking with drool dripping into his breaches sometime later.
A symphony of oldtime music broadcast through the boards. His head had rested while his body was upside down. Edward banged against metal throbbing with pain bleeding on a sign labeled “keep out private property”.
Later after being left hanging between two windows from a tree house for some time. Edwards' feet dangled a long fall by hook lodged deep in the metal sign above. He strained trying to free himself, but it would not budge even after repeated attempts. The calls of the dogs grew in intensity down in the valley. He was in danger of being soon permanently treed.
“Bang!”
Edward shot backwards, falling forward to tumble towards the ground. A chest full of rock salt while he ate dirt.
“That’s right, stay off my land,” cried out ancient vocal chords.
A disheveled hermit poked his head out the fresh hole blasted through the residence.
“Get off my lawn,” yelled an old man with a gray beard dressed in a hat and clothes designed of leather and leaves.
The geezer poured salt from a king size beaker into a pipe rifle, and topped it off with a chunk of root vegetable.
“Bang,”.
Edward jumped and jived dodging attacks. He mashed through layers of branches thinking he was on solid moss before being sucked five feet below ground. The old man continued to wave threateningly above. A rustle in the underbrush as twigs snapped in protest nearby. The hermit aimed for another shot, and this time it was toward the eyes with intent to blind. A cold claw sliced into his shoulder from behind like butter.
A scream cut through the night stopping the hounds in their tracks. The heat of the creature’s savage roars cleared every tree in a thousand miles of birds, and scared possums into permanent vacation. The zombie grizzly clawed apart the tree house while bloodied timber splintered to the ground. A bolt of lightning flashed across the sky bringing thunder to match the bear's guttural growling low rumbling tone while rain started downpouring.
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Edward returned alive in his makeshift grave. His creaking bones protesting every inch of the escape. A burst of adrenaline cleared aching limbs acting threatening to fall asleep. He sped off as the bear spotted him and spit chunks of saliva on him running away one hundred feet
Killin Hood sprinted into the clearing following his grizzly cutting through the forest on the hunt. His legs bounced from tree to tree sprinting through the forest like a spirit. He flung up the last tree near a cliff and onto rocks and started a free climb; he dodged a boulder dislodged by his zombie creation attacking above. The master smiled under face mask as he pulled himself up from dangling off a cliff.
The trees crashed and fell apart from the rampaging beast in pursuit. Edward zipped away from claws that barely missed. He flung upwards near the apex of the jump and jerked his wrist freeing the much dulled attachment hooked below. The darkness of a cavernous entrance swallowed the next shot of the hook. As quickly as it had reeled in from the previous jump it hauled Edward inside the hole. The paw of the grizzly with crystal sharpened claws cut through a section of rock knocking down double the initial load inside the dark.
Lightning struck the highest rocks above. Time was ticking for the window to close on this perfect storm. The hunter crept after his prey into the cave network. It was a lower entrance he squeezed through. His body squeaked after applying a fresh layer of grease. His mask was off with his hood. The cave shook him loose, knocking a fresh toothpick away from being chewed. A miniature roar was cut short as an escaping bear lunged. Killin Hood’s arrow shot straight through the heart of the attacker.
“Not my bear,” mumbled the hunter, stepping over his kill.
The dead meat had already been attracting flies in the humid pituitary dish of a place. Dirty water dripped from the ceiling repelled from his slicked back hair. Moths and mushrooms littered whatever wasn’t a small pool underground. Lightning flashed through cracks forming behind his back. The giant bear attacked, shaking everything down to the bedrock.
The final obstacle stopping the creature's entrance had fallen away. It roared inside as Edward aimed. The creature charged forward, raising claws. He shot out the hook, pulverizing a stalagmite and shuffled to dodge incoming claws. It somehow ended on a trip line via a formation of rocks that tripped up the bear.
The roof collapsed as the line cut through the charge of rotting fur and flesh. Edward was hauled forward into the claws banded by the line winding round them both. He bounced onto the hair of the beast that gagged a veteran's nose closed. It stunk worse than 100 wet skunks. Underneath the folds of decomposing animal fat Edward was slowly constricted and suffocated alive. Edward was losing consciousness as the air was crushed from his lungs. His skin was going to be next as the hook, line, and sinker crushed. Edward was losing consciousness as the air was crushed from his lungs. His skin was going to be next.
Killin Hood entered the scene loading an explosive arrow. It seemed he had arrived at the perfect time on a perch overlooking the action. He aimed as the wires groaned to a stop at the bone of the beast.
“Boom,”.
The target was engulfed in an explosion before the cave burst into fireworks. It was getting hot inside the prison composed of flesh burning outside Edward. The creature roared for the last time in flames. The hood worn by Killin was also flame resistant. He pulled away from behind a wall of glowing rocks formerly providing refuge.
The lightning storm outside lit up a blackened cavern smoldering as the flames ran out of oxygen. The bear continued to burn, cooking the man isolated inside. A stream from a Killin Company fire extinguisher soaped the creature’s carcass in foam. The flames had left Edwards' balding body unconscious between exposed bear ribs.
“Whew I got scared my bear was gonna desecrate the royal parts I’m looking for,” Killin Hood cried with excitement. “Now we must go fast,”. He rustled through his stuff opening a terp-talkie from his bag. "Drop a line on this hill, over" he finished.
"Yes sir," said the response.
Killin Hood threw away the bow and put the body on his back darting out of the cave. Gone as quickly as the lightning flashed. He clipped onto a line dropped from a waiting blimp that flew towards base.
The witch slept away back at Killin estate while a line descended from the sky above. The rooms underneath the bowls of the building had a secret entrance. It was opened by pulling a book revealing a typewriter to input the name of the owner's first ever hound. Then the passage opened to a tunnel lined by torchlight.
Killin Hood and his prize limped past the dungeons. It took awhile to reach the opposite side of the elevator traveling to the mines, and witchcraft quarters.
The door knocked furiously, finally waking the witch from the recliner in her lab. The thick oak door slid open on well oiled hinges. Killin Hood strode into the room. He threw Edwards with a flop onto an operating table.
“Hehehe, you've got him now and the lightning still sparks for us to harness,” the Witch clapped.
“Let’s begin the transplant procedure as soon as physically possible,” said Killin Hood, taking out tubes.
“I’m more concerned magically,” said the Witch.
Edward's skin was punctured over and over until all the tubes were attached. Because the skin on most of his body was too damaged, his neck, head and normal arm looked like a porcupine. The blood began to be sucked away to a machine connected to another operating table covered with sheets. A hole in the roof with an antenna of metal headed far above. Rain fell through soaking wires connected to sparking electricity crystals, as Edward was strapped down for good.
“Hahaha,” Killin Hood cackled, throwing on a thick lab coat. “The operation will now commence with hast,".
The witch wheeled in a cart of medical equipment. Edward screamed awake. He was stirred by the sound of a recuperating saw spinning up. No matter how hard he thrashed under the covers the straps remained locked. The witch held a mirror to his face reflecting broken teeth mid call for help. The king looking at him on the other side had begun to scale from head to toe. The hook had been taken from him again, and the arm underneath it was almost rock solid crystal.
"You haven't taken horrible care of yourself," laughed the Witch.
"You haven't taken horrible care of yourself," laughed the Witch, cracking her bony fingers one after another in that part of the ritual she stretched them out.
"Now don't make a fuss, we are going to take your heart among other stuff," she cackled, reaching towards Edward's chest.