The first time I went on a hunt, was the first time I really saw death in any sort of being’s eyes.
I don’t know who I am, what I am. I mean, I couldn’t possibly be considered part of the Hunters. Yet, their blood runs through my veins. They may own an incapability of understanding the true emotions of life, for we have been Genetically-Altered Experiments planned all the way back in 2012. Our bodies and our emotions have become that of a true fighter, a warrior of destruction itself in a world of Nature’s grace that becomes altered in the palms of our Humanoid Species.
We can defeat any oncoming dangers in our path, bodies of strength and dexterity and all the while, plenty of Stamina as well. Like I said, it not only changes our physical features, but our emotional and mental understandings as well. We’re more strict in such things, we do not bother to take pity upon another life form.
All we understand is the pleasure in killing, and in destruction. Yet also, in invention as well. We are the next form of Humanity, except advanced way more on so many levels.We know adaptation, and evolution. We are the next step into alien territory, and into an advanced placement of discovery.
Gods and Goddesses of such is Humanly. Us Hunters are not aloud to participate in any such form of Religious ideas or experimentation. For death only awaits those who lose their sense of Pride and Curiosity.
“Such nonsense is only participated by those of a lack of understanding, those who stand low before us.” My Creators would claim, “Those bastardous Humans we use to Hunt. They participate in the foolish stuff around us that help us declare ourselves as more... Intelligent than them.”
My Male Creator looked upon me, “Our Gods are what they call Parents. A god is A creator, so us, your “parents”, are your creators.” He sniffled a bit, chin held high in Pride to show me who really is in control of my understandings, in control of my sketched out life. “Therefore, you must treat us with the most of respect, and appreciate us as your Leaders.” He glared down upon me once again, “Or else, there shall be the most perishable of punishments for you.”
I knew this game, despite my years, I could see through the trickery each individual came across with their Creators. I wondered then, if this is how Human Creators, or parents, came across their Inventions. is this what they treated them as? A prize, or tool, used to highlight their “perfection” ?
The way we perceive things, we only understand the rules of the world and of chaos. Like survival, taking in both such things when it comes to us Hunters. The way we bother to evolve and expand and continue our species... We don’t participate in the weakness of passion, unless in destruction. Such desire remains undiscovered in our such minds. We breed with those we are paired with, creating our offspring that allows our advantages to mix, of which will destroy our disadvantages. We only care to survive, only to destroy in the end.
And yet, I feel myself different from my kind. For as I stood here and now, I felt one thing for that poor female dying there on the ground: Pity. To my amazement, she had the capability to get up and stand, yet limping heavily and blood covered her hand which was covering the wound my Male Creator delivered to her.
Those with us on the hunt knew not to finish her, for she would surely die and they wanted nothing but pain in her final moments.
“As nice as that clear shot was, this one seems like her cry will be fainter than most, considering she’s obviously young.” The rest of the boys agreed, and they traveled on to Hunt for more.
I however, stayed behind watching the female bleed and suffer silently. She didn’t bother whimpering, or screaming. I knew she knew that would bring more attention as she tried to get away... Smart and Strong she was. She was young, too.
She looked back at me with color-fading eyes which widened when she saw me watching her.
Tears streamed her eyes, yet there was a smile on her face.
Glad to leave, glad to be able to look one of us in the eyes as she knew, despite her body’s urge to fight, that this were in her final moments before she collapsed and let out one of her final hollow howls.
And so she stood there, looking me in the eye, I could not look away from her final demise...
It filled me with lust, watching her death. But, also with sorrow. Blood dripped, and my knees shook.
Finally, I took a step towards her, and just as I did she fell and stumbled into a pile of helpless soon-to-be death. She let out a final cry of misery, A Hunted Howl... So Faint, yet beautiful in a Hunter’s ears such as mine....
...And I rushed to her side. Pulling at my emergency kit, I grabbed a Health vial and injected it into her veins. I watched as the wound magically healed and she gasped, the life coming back to her beautiful emerald-Brown sparked Hazel eyes.
She wasn’t like us, genetically altered, short and yet she looked stronger than most humans. I guess it was the training for the Hunt. She took three shaky breaths and looked at me, sitting up fast and scooting away from me. She was obviously afraid of my touch. Afraid of me.
I don’t know who I am, what I am. I mean, I couldn’t possibly be considered part of the Hunters. Yet, their blood runs through my veins. They may own an incapability of understanding the true emotions of life, for we have been Genetically-Altered Experiments planned all the way back in 2012. Our bodies and our emotions have become that of a true fighter, a warrior of destruction itself in a world of Nature’s grace that becomes altered in the palms of our Humanoid Species.
We can defeat any oncoming dangers in our path, bodies of strength and dexterity and all the while, plenty of Stamina as well. Like I said, it not only changes our physical features, but our emotional and mental understandings as well. We’re more strict in such things, we do not bother to take pity upon another life form.
All we understand is the pleasure in killing, and in destruction. Yet also, in invention as well. We are the next form of Humanity, except advanced way more on so many levels.We know adaptation, and evolution. We are the next step into alien territory, and into an advanced placement of discovery.
Gods and Goddesses of such is Humanly. Us Hunters are not aloud to participate in any such form of Religious ideas or experimentation. For death only awaits those who lose their sense of Pride and Curiosity.
“Such nonsense is only participated by those of a lack of understanding, those who stand low before us.” My Creators would claim, “Those bastardous Humans we use to Hunt. They participate in the foolish stuff around us that help us declare ourselves as more... Intelligent than them.”
My Male Creator looked upon me, “Our Gods are what they call Parents. A god is A creator, so us, your “parents”, are your creators.” He sniffled a bit, chin held high in Pride to show me who really is in control of my understandings, in control of my sketched out life. “Therefore, you must treat us with the most of respect, and appreciate us as your Leaders.” He glared down upon me once again, “Or else, there shall be the most perishable of punishments for you.”
I knew this game, despite my years, I could see through the trickery each individual came across with their Creators. I wondered then, if this is how Human Creators, or parents, came across their Inventions. is this what they treated them as? A prize, or tool, used to highlight their “perfection” ?
The way we perceive things, we only understand the rules of the world and of chaos. Like survival, taking in both such things when it comes to us Hunters. The way we bother to evolve and expand and continue our species... We don’t participate in the weakness of passion, unless in destruction. Such desire remains undiscovered in our such minds. We breed with those we are paired with, creating our offspring that allows our advantages to mix, of which will destroy our disadvantages. We only care to survive, only to destroy in the end.
And yet, I feel myself different from my kind. For as I stood here and now, I felt one thing for that poor female dying there on the ground: Pity. To my amazement, she had the capability to get up and stand, yet limping heavily and blood covered her hand which was covering the wound my Male Creator delivered to her.
Those with us on the hunt knew not to finish her, for she would surely die and they wanted nothing but pain in her final moments.
“As nice as that clear shot was, this one seems like her cry will be fainter than most, considering she’s obviously young.” The rest of the boys agreed, and they traveled on to Hunt for more.
I however, stayed behind watching the female bleed and suffer silently. She didn’t bother whimpering, or screaming. I knew she knew that would bring more attention as she tried to get away... Smart and Strong she was. She was young, too.
She looked back at me with color-fading eyes which widened when she saw me watching her.
Tears streamed her eyes, yet there was a smile on her face.
Glad to leave, glad to be able to look one of us in the eyes as she knew, despite her body’s urge to fight, that this were in her final moments before she collapsed and let out one of her final hollow howls.
And so she stood there, looking me in the eye, I could not look away from her final demise...
It filled me with lust, watching her death. But, also with sorrow. Blood dripped, and my knees shook.
Finally, I took a step towards her, and just as I did she fell and stumbled into a pile of helpless soon-to-be death. She let out a final cry of misery, A Hunted Howl... So Faint, yet beautiful in a Hunter’s ears such as mine....
...And I rushed to her side. Pulling at my emergency kit, I grabbed a Health vial and injected it into her veins. I watched as the wound magically healed and she gasped, the life coming back to her beautiful emerald-Brown sparked Hazel eyes.
She wasn’t like us, genetically altered, short and yet she looked stronger than most humans. I guess it was the training for the Hunt. She took three shaky breaths and looked at me, sitting up fast and scooting away from me. She was obviously afraid of my touch. Afraid of me.
Sometimes its Easier to inore the truth
to forget about everything
to sit in a closet and hide forever
Sometimes its Easier, to blame yourself
To think its your falt
To show no emotion
Sometimes It's easier to keep everything inside
to not let anyone know
to hide everything.
To me, Its easier to say something
To talk
to cry
Its easier to Feel Emotions
Anger, rage, Sadness,
but not fear
Fear is my enemey
He wants to take over my mind
Keep me locked up inside.
I'm tired of being scared
I'm tired of being locked in my own world
I'm tired of being a prisoner.
I will not be afraid,
I will not Let him Win
to forget about everything
to sit in a closet and hide forever
Sometimes its Easier, to blame yourself
To think its your falt
To show no emotion
Sometimes It's easier to keep everything inside
to not let anyone know
to hide everything.
To me, Its easier to say something
To talk
to cry
Its easier to Feel Emotions
Anger, rage, Sadness,
but not fear
Fear is my enemey
He wants to take over my mind
Keep me locked up inside.
I'm tired of being scared
I'm tired of being locked in my own world
I'm tired of being a prisoner.
I will not be afraid,
I will not Let him Win
I loved to write songs. These beautiful poems of love, heartbreak, life and misery. I still do. Shame they'll never reach the world as I hoped.
But, life is life and death is well, death. I wish I could still play with Eyes Of The Wolf, my old band. I remember the lullaby I wrote for Jannet when she had nightmares.
'Prr, Prr
Of the Cat on the mat so peaceful
Cheep, Cheep
Of the Bird in the garden so alive
Neigh, Neigh
Of the Horse on the racecourse so swift
Woof, Woof
Of the Pup in the tulips so playful
But now please my dear Jannet rest
So tomorrow you take life's next test'
I still sing it to her every night. But she can't hear me now. Maybe i'm just not singing loud enough. Sometimes she hears me sing a few lines. I know because sometimes when I sing she'll start crying. I don't know why. Maybe she misses me. Or maybe I scare her. I don't know. The world is a very strange place
But, life is life and death is well, death. I wish I could still play with Eyes Of The Wolf, my old band. I remember the lullaby I wrote for Jannet when she had nightmares.
'Prr, Prr
Of the Cat on the mat so peaceful
Cheep, Cheep
Of the Bird in the garden so alive
Neigh, Neigh
Of the Horse on the racecourse so swift
Woof, Woof
Of the Pup in the tulips so playful
But now please my dear Jannet rest
So tomorrow you take life's next test'
I still sing it to her every night. But she can't hear me now. Maybe i'm just not singing loud enough. Sometimes she hears me sing a few lines. I know because sometimes when I sing she'll start crying. I don't know why. Maybe she misses me. Or maybe I scare her. I don't know. The world is a very strange place
Heyy there, I know in my last entry I said I would write on Friday- but I didn't. Theres actually loads of things that have happened to me in the last few days/week. Im not gonna tell you though! I had no comments on the last entry but as soon as I get some feedback im gonna start writing to you again- Im a very busy person. I go to school, I play football (soccer-(Im english)-) along with my writing I also sing alot so I have many things to do/practice. Go look for my last entry and you will understand partly why im jabbering on :) Love to the people of the earth~ Cait xxx- 20th September 2011