Find and Murder
Clap... Clap... Clap...
The echoes of clapping vibrated off the trees and foliage. A man in an old suit walked through, his eyes passing by the darkness around him.
He clapped.
Clap... Clap... Clap...
The vibrations and waves. Bouncing back and forth and back and forth. He heard the trees, the bushes, the bird and bugs. He heard the leaves rustling in the soft cold night wind. The crunching of his sneakers against the muddied dirt.
Clap... Clap... Clap...
He listened close to nearby vibrations.
Crack!
He turned in the darkness as the sound of a stick cracked in the chilling wind. He looked closer as a shadow swung through the impending silence.
"Gotcha," echoed Damon as he rushed through the tree riddle forest.
His arms extended outward. He followed the shadow. It's figure turning in and out, dodging the trees before-
Smack!
The figure slammed into a tree, its body falling back and sliding into the grassy dirt. Damon took this opportunity to pounce on his victim. He jumped on top of them, his hands extended out, choking them, their eyes in the darkness, their long hair tangled between his fingertips.
"Da... Stop..."
He stopped. The voice... He recognized...
"Luna?"
He got up from the figure. Her green tracksuit in the small sliver of moonlight. She sat up from the dirt, the brown covering her figure. She swiped at her neck, the bruise around it.
"Damon...?" she asked confused by his sudden approach and tackle.
"Yeah yeah, sorry about that. Just get going, Luna."
He turned around and pretended as if nothing happened. He waited patiently for her to leave, the nothingness between him and the soft echoing sounds. He waited...
"Damon..." she slowly approached him.
"What is it-"
She hugged him from behind. Her dirty muddy arms wrapping around his muscular body.
Damon quickly pushed her off.
"Hey! Don't get mud on my suit," he exclaimed.
"Oh... Sorry... I was just so excited... It was like... We were..."
Damon looked at her shadowed face, her blushing cheeks as she twiddled her fingers back and forth. Embarrassed and in love.
"Just get out of here... We'll talk about it another time."
"Kay."
She disappeared into the darkness.
Damon continued on his murderous seeking endeavors.
"What a weirdo."
---
In a nearby bush. Three figures in the dark talked to each other.
"How long do we have to be staying out here?"
"Shuuuuuuush. Be quiet. The Seeker may be out there. Don't make too much noise."
They all watched the silence. The darkness around them, enveloping them. The fear... The pain of waiting, squatting, anticipation, anxiety.
One of the three hidden figures reached for their dagger.
Tap-tap-tap...
He touched around his belt but nothing was there. His knife was missing.
"Guys..." He whispered, "my daggers missing."
"Did you drop it?" responded one of them pissed.
"Just leave it. And stop talking guys."
"But that dagger... It was passed down by my-"
Clap!
"What the fuck-"
They all turned around in unison.
Slice!
Blood squirted across the foliage.
The two other dark figures jumped out from the bush, the darkness all around them. They pulled out their guns, pointing to the sounds of footsteps, of silence, of struggling. They looked down to the dark mushy dirt below.
"My... Thro..."
Their friend was cut up, his throat slit in two.
"Shit! Charles get behind me now-"
Clap!
They turned in unison.
Slice!
Damon's assassin like movements. Weaving in and out of darkness and shadow.
"Two down..." he said to himself.
He moved in circles, the footsteps spinning, the darkness enveloping, the anxiety increasing.
Thump.
His friend fell to the forest floor, his throat bleeding, crying, dying.
"Where are you! Die!!!" screamed out the last remaining.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Into the darkness the bullets went, the short flashes and bursts, lighting up the area. But the light was dim, it was quiet, lonely, lost, dead.
The trees... He backed up against a tree.
"I said... Reveal yourself now! I said get out here now!"
Clap!
Bang! Bang!
He fired at the sounds. But every shot missed.
"Show yourself-"
Thunk!
Damon threw the knife across the air, sticking the victim right in his chest, his body pinned against the moist tree. Blood smearing across its wooden frame as he slowly slid down the trunk.
"Wha... Please... Don't..."
He reached out into the darkness.
Damon approached the dying figure.
"I'm sorry... But please don't scream."
Slice!
---
Clap... Clap... Clap...
For ten minutes Damon went through the forest. Clapping his way to murder. To find his next victims. After every clap, he would hear a rustle and a movement. After every movement he would hear a scream, then a death. He would repeat this cycle five more times before he would finally end his rampage.
He walked back to the ridge between the forest and the town.
He was covered in spurts of blood.
"Oh good, you're done. Let's see..."
The announcer looked at a small tv set up nearby. He looked at recorded inferred camera detection and thermal drone footage that showed every single kill, and every single stab in gruesome detail.
He looked at his watch, "congrats, with ten minutes to spare you've made it to the next round. Now we'll have to wait for the next seeker to be chosen."
---
All across the forest, everyone's phones lit up in a simultaneous fashion.
Message: [New Seeker: George Mike | Time Remaining: 30 Minutes]
---
Damon and the Annoncer sat down next to each other on rusted lawn chairs. They watched the bright tv shine in the dark night as it replayed all the gruesome murders and deaths of the competitors in the forest.
"How do you enjoy this. It's sickening," pointed out Damon.
"Sickening? No-no-no, this is the best part of the job my friend. You see I'm not a strong enough Immortal to be in the Immortal Army, so I'm stuck here doing these tests. This is the closest I get to action nowadays, but to tell you the truth, most of the fighting done in the Immortal Horses is political bull crap and information warfare. I'm not for all that stuff. I just like to see some fun fights and cool murders. Then I like to go-"
"Please shut up."
"Oh... Yeah... Sorry..."
---
Thirty minutes later George Mike walked out from the forest, his entire body covered in blood.
"Congratulations George Mike you've passed the second test and your on your way to the second round." He looked at his watch, "wow with only a minute to spare, your one lucky bastard George."
---
Another message was sent out to the forest. By this point, a whole hour had passed in there, and the people were getting restless. Soon people were just killing each other to kill each other. And soon after, with only another twenty minutes n the clock, the numbers were reduced all the way down to fifty. And the second test came to an end.
---
"See Damon what did I tell you? It always turns into a blood bath."
"I see..."
The Announcer looked at Damon, then at George Mike.
"Oh yeah... By the way. I'm gonna have to gas you two now. The next test requires everyone to be unconscious."
"You wanna poison me?" questioned George.
"No-no-no. It's just a precaution, you know. It's harder to move fifty conscious people, than fifty unconscious. Anyway. I'm just telling you this because..."
Knock-out gas started to fill the forest. Damon stood still. His body tired. He looked at the Annoncer, as he put on a gas mask. He then turned to George who fell unconscious in an instant.
"Uhhhggg..."
He stood unfazed by the gas like it didn't affect him one bit. He even breathed it in, full deep breaths, but it just didn't affect him. He was immune to all poisons.
"Fine-fine. I'll play along."
He closed his eyes and put himself to sleep in an instant.