Trapper's shame

Shaun had meticulously planned for this moment—he was supposed to be the hunter, the one in control. But when the trap finally sprang to life, ensnaring its prey, Shaun froze like a deer in headlights. For a few seconds, he was paralyzed, staring at the squirming creature with wide eyes.

"Well, this is awkward," he thought to himself, his brain scrambling to figure out the next move. "What would Fred Flintstone do?"

His heart pounded in his chest, but instead of feeling triumphant, he felt more like a kid who had accidentally knocked over a vase in a stranger's house. This was what he had planned for, what he had prepared himself for, but now that the moment was here, it felt different—more real, more terrifying.

"Okay, Shaun, pull yourself together," he mentally chided. "This is just a part of the plan. No need to freak out over a fuzzball with a forehead zit."

It took him a few seconds to finally regain control of his racing thoughts and look more closely at his adversary. All he could see was a white, round, furry creature with a bulge on its forehead and a round mouth right beneath it. The rest of its body was obscured by the vines of blue light that had been released by the Wrap Trap.

"What in the nintendo draft page...?" he mused, procrastinating from the job at hand by focusing on the appearance of his captive.

At first glance, Shaun assumed this was some kind of giant, woolly worm-like creature, given its fur-covered exterior, round shape, and the noticeable lack of eyes. It was about the size of a basketball and seemed harmless enough. Although he had come here searching for food, Shaun wasn't entirely heartless. Seeing it so small and defenseless, he felt a pang of hesitation about killing it. Plus, the idea of eating basketball sized bug flesh wasn't exactly appetizing.

As Shaun observed the creature, the forest around him felt like it was holding its breath. The barely trickling sunlight was fading, shadows of the canopy losing its contrast, creeping closer as the minutes ticked by. The looming darkness a fresh reminder that he never had the luxury of comedic segues...

Yet still he continued.

Slap! "No! To survive, I have to be able to stomach everything! No mercy!" Shaun shouted at himself, probably forgetting he was in the forest.

Looking at it again, with its mouth twitching and the bump on its forehead wiggling, he couldn't help but feel convicted of thinking about eating it.

Slap! "I need to prioritize resources first...."

"But I think..."

Slap! "I have to ensure my own..."

As Shaun debated with himself, the silence of the forest became more pronounced. It was the kind of quiet where you could start hearing a slight high pitched ring in your ear. Even as he tried to settle his internal court, his eyes darted around, half expecting another strange creature to leap out at him.

A series of back-and-forth tug-of-war between Shaun's conscience and his realistic side began, as he slapped himself every time he got soft to bring himself to his senses. By the time a decision was made, Shaun had slapped himself swollen, as if he had stuck his head into a beehive.

Finally, a fleeting memory of someone with black hair crossed his mind. She had a soft spot for cute things; she'd probably be horrified if she knew he was considering killing something like this."

Shaun couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of his own thoughts. If anyone were around to hear this, they'd probably stone me for being so shameless, he mused. I can't even remember her name, and here I am, using her as an excuse. Talk about thick skin—maybe they should thin it out with some rocks.

Even though he had decided to release the trap, he realized he had never actually done it before. With no idea how to proceed, Shaun opted for the simplest solution: brute force. When brains fail, brawn usually steps in—like someone smacking a broken TV in hopes that a good whack will fix it.

Shaun took out his knife and carefully slid it between the creature and the Wrap Trap, intending to free it. The moment his fingers brushed against the trap, however, the vines abruptly retracted, slithering back into the Wrap Trap Runes embedded in the ground. For a brief moment, Shaun stood there, too dumbfounded by this unexpected function to notice the creature stirring. But as the shock wore off, he finally glanced down at his catch—and what he saw made his heart skip a beat.

The small, helpless creature he had been so conflicted about was gone. In its place stood something entirely different.

A rabbit.

It was a rabbit—Shaun had to double-check in his mind because this creature was unlike any rabbit he'd ever seen. At first glance, it seemed typical enough: soft white fur and a single black circle around its left eye. But then, there was the horn on its forehead—a sharp, obsidian-like crystal that gleamed with a deep, black luster, catching the light in a way that made it seem almost otherworldly.

Its front legs were thick and unusually fluffy, almost like a pair of round earmuffs. But the most striking feature of all was its hind leg—or rather, the fact that there was only one. It was as if the usual two had fused into a single, powerful limb, the white fur doing little to mask the raw strength coiled beneath it. This was no ordinary rabbit; it was something far more formidable.

The rabbit stared at Shaun, its mouth hanging open in sheer confusion. It had spun around, ready to face a deadly predator—something fierce and menacing. Instead, it was confronted by a mud-caked, wide-eyed figure that looked more if not as bewildered as it was, than dangerous. The rabbit froze, its instincts to flee momentarily overridden by sheer bafflement, as if it couldn't quite believe that this was what it had been so terrified of.

In fact, both Shaun and the rabbit snapped out of their stupor at the same time. But just as Shaun began to collect himself, he was hit with yet another shock that nearly made him choke. The 'cute creature' he had agonized over possibly killing was, in reality, the rabbit's backside. The small, twitching bump he thought was its head was actually just its tail, and what he thought were the furry mandibles of a wooly worm type creature- Let's just say it wouldn't be eating out of there any time soon.

"Well, this day just keeps getting better," Shaun thought, rolling his eyes. "Not only did I nearly lose it over a rabbit, but I was also about to have a serious conversation with its backside."

That was the darkest black mark in Shaun's history. It was good for Shaun, as if in the future he ever made any stupid decisions in a fight, he could always look back at this moment and forgive himself.

By the time Shaun had gathered his wits, the rabbit was already more than five meters away. It was absurdly fast and agile, especially for something with just one back leg. Rather than bounding on all fours like a typical rabbit, it seemed to vanish and reappear in an instant, almost like a ghost. Each movement was a blur, making it impossible for Shaun to track it in motion; he could only catch brief glimpses between each jump. In those fleeting moments, he noticed small details—its front legs tapping rapidly with every stop, braking and stabilizing it before the next leap. As it paused, Shaun could see its back leg tucked beneath it, coiled like a spring, ready to drive it forward with a kick that sent it rocketing to imperceptible speeds.

The forest played tricks on Shaun's senses as he tried to track the rabbit. The shadows from the trees seemed to blur the creature's movement, making it difficult to predict its next jump. The undergrowth rustled softly, masking the sound of the rabbit's movement with the natural noise of the forest. Shaun felt disoriented, like he was being toyed with—not just by the rabbit, but by the forest itself, which seemed to conspire against him.

Something about the situation felt off. The rabbit's erratic movements didn't match the pattern Shaun had expected. With its speed, it should have been a white blur, vanishing into the distance in seconds. But instead, it zigzagged around the forest, never straying too far from him.

Then, like a cold wave crashing over him, the realization struck. "It's testing me," Shaun thought, a shiver crawling down his spine. This wasn't just a frightened animal—it was something far more dangerous. With that kind of speed and the sharp, obsidian-like horn on its forehead, the rabbit was a bullet with a mind of its own. Shaun could vividly imagine what would happen the moment it targeted him—like a cannonball tearing through... well, him.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady the pounding in his chest, and forced himself to focus. The rabbit was closing in, its jumps growing faster, more deliberate, and each leap shortened the distance between them. Shaun zeroed in on two things: distance and direction. He measured the range of each jump in his mind, visualizing the farthest distance it could cover. As the rabbit moved, he adjusted his mental image, forming an ever-tightening circle around him.

But then, everything seemed to slow down. The rabbit leapt into position, landing right at the edge of the circle Shaun had visualized, its body drifting slightly as it locked eyes with him. He could see the tension coiled in its muscles, its rear lifting just enough to prime that powerful back leg. The air grew heavy, the silence suffocating, as if the entire forest was holding its breath, waiting for this exact moment with him.

Shaun's muscles tensed, his body bracing itself. His mind screamed at him to move, but he held back, knowing that if he acted too soon, he'd lose his one chance.

One dash… Appearing on the left.

Two dashes… Skimming the circle's perimeter.

Third dash… It was in!

The rabbit was now less than three meters away. Shaun's breath hitched as he noticed it was facing him, its black, lustered horn gleaming ominously in the dim light. Sweat mixed with mud, dripping down his face, but he didn't dare to wipe it away.

Everything froze for a split second. The rabbit's muscles twitched, and Shaun knew—this was it. He took a deep breath, his mind narrowing to a single thought: Now.