Tiger tale tell tale. short story wildetect

 

My name is unimportant right now, I’m writing this experience down as I find myself in a rather precarious predicament of sorts. It appears to me right now; nature has conspired to work against me . I am perceived as a threat to its base line equilibrium. My name is also unimportant as I live in a time where saying my name would identify me and I would offend an entire community of people just by saying my name.  So, its best you don’t know me exactly. My strange developing story is also very disturbing to me and in the telling I want to release my insecure thoughts to the 4 winds. Perhaps in the hope of some kind of solace & reprieve before this nights dawn breaks. This is a small interlude into my life and perhaps at the end of it now, you will also be offended. Please don’t venture further if you are at all squeamish or sensitive. I am a great majestic hunter, a mighty man, in my trade being anything but brave in the face of slaughter is not acceptable. And i am the bravest of my ilk.

I come from a very long line of proud wild tiger hunters – my family has been hunting this majestic creature for many centuries. Over the years there has been many methods – however it is common knowledge the tiger is drawn out by the frightening cries of a pure animal paralysed with intense fear. As mighty hunters we know this anomaly very well – so we look for these sad pathetic creatures amongst the everyday animals around our village. A puppy, a lamb, something that will make sufficient noise to draw out this incredible animal to the sound and smell of raw fear.

A tiger you see is a being like no other – it has no equal amongst living creatures, it has no fear really of anything. Some say it is not a living entity, they put spiritual connotations onto this lethal night shadow. Because the stealth at which such a huge powerful creature moves – it is said that it is scientifically impossible to move with such a silence.

Sometimes we as hunters must bait the trap several times because 1 minute you hear the hysterical screams of absolute fear, the next absolutely nothing.

It’s really the sudden complete silence that grips you more than the frightening build-up of petrified screams in the dark night.

When rebaiting the trap, we often notice not a blade of grass has been disturbed. – it’s like a mist of diabolic energy has stealthily grasped the trap bait and completely vanished into thin air. The lingering smell of a relieved frightened animal is all that remains. The reality of a tiger is you can be a few feet from this huge, majestic creature, and you would not know it was even there. There is a certain unique smell one would perhaps perceive – however only the well trained to detect these things would register this. It’s a smell like rancid perfume really. A unique musk type smell to induce fear of herbs and rotting flesh. Not unpleasant but obvious to a trained great tiger hunter like me, I can perfectly detect its presence with dead accuracy.

I first started noticing this exact smell a few months ago – some days and nights the smell was overpowering others a hint but nothing ever visible. I searched – my tiger slaying weapons in hand. I searched for the source of this unique tiger smell – however nothing I could ever see. No evidence was present other than the waft of a full-grown tiger within a few feet from where I sat, stood or was lying down. With no tangible evidence I was convinced a trick was being played on me. The slow uneasiness of considering I had picked up a night shadow stalker.  was a completely ludicrous notion.  

 

 

As a shadow stalker is an old myth from times gone past – whereby for many months the hunter becomes the primal hunted. It must be a myth because I live on the 3^rd floor complex, in a very built-up city, far from the nearest wild tiger range. For any tiger to get to me it would be completely impossible to reach me undetected. So, this smell I perceive out of thin air must be a cunning trick, a conjurer’s sleight of unsettling hand.

I have made many enemies over the years, so any number of these vengeful types could be using my hunting prowess and skills to unsettle me.

They say you only see the night shadow stalker the split second before it rips your throat out. The attack is so seamless and powerful you might as well have been hit by a 100 mile an hour freight train while going about your daily routine.

So, you can understand my absolute surprise when last night I awoke to a musky herb, off flesh rancid smell and cold yellow eyes of a full grown 800-pound tiger staring at me through the pale moon darkness. My first reaction was to completely soil myself and a feeling of raw panic so overwhelming overtook my entire body. Fear is a terrible element to have to deal with, adrenaline and the sudden onset of paralysis and shivers are immediate in most. I am no different, nothing in life can prepare you for that exact moment of pure complete vulnerability. This visceral experience convinced me, I was a split second away from being completely slaughtered. Only to look around in my own soiled stench, tears and sweat to realise, I was now completely alone once again in my small 3^rd floor room. Whatever I had seen had completely slinked away into the pale moon night.

 

 

I locked myself in my tiny bathroom and have stayed hidden the entire remaining early morning. In this state of renewed understanding and deep shock, I start now to remember each creature used as cruel bait in my relentless pursuit of the majestic tiger. I’m not a sentimental man, death stalks us all, but I started to feel a deep sense of dread for the very limited cruel man I used to be. This current complete fear in me awoke a sense of extreme anxiety and guilt that was relentless in its pursuit of conscious. Those yellow cold eyes of silent condemnation burnt into the very back of my skull. It is now all too much at once really.

This afternoon has been better than this morning– but I’m completely petrified to face the onset of sleep in my apartment once again – the hint of a lingering musk herb, rotten flesh rancid smell wafts through my private space as I write this. I am far to afraid for the encroaching night – the screams of each innocent animal I trap baited reverberates right now in my skull, the sound has instilled a palpable fear so intense I struggle to eat.

The night is now here, I thought of locking myself in my bathroom, this letter will be the only tangible living thought of a man deeply sorry for his actions whilst alive. To my relatives my warning is now very clear. I’m sure i won’t make it through this dark night here, I leave this letter, so you don’t need to worry about me. I will be fleeing the city – catching a train as far as the rail goes. A destination I don’t want my enemies to be aware of.

As dusk now approaches the deeply haunting condemnatory yellow eyes are piercing me through the impending pale moon dusk. My time has now arrived to run – you won’t see me again – farewell.