Chapter 472

The mountain air grew colder, each gust carrying the scent of pine and something else, something feral. It was a hunger, a primal need that resonated deep within the bones of the mountain lion.

Its tawny coat, once a camouflage among the sun-drenched rocks, now appeared a shade darker, blending with the deepening shadows as the days grew shorter. The cat's amber eyes, normally pools of serene watchfulness, had become hard points of desperate calculation.

It wasn't just hunting anymore; it was a desperate, agonizing craving. The creature moved like a phantom, a low ripple of muscle and sinew through the dense undergrowth.

Its paws made no sound on the carpet of fallen leaves and decaying pine needles. Every rustle, every snap, was investigated.

Its world had become a symphony of potential sustenance. The usual small rodents and rabbits it normally consumed were no longer satisfying this insatiable void in its stomach.

The pangs were intensifying, making it agitated and more ruthless. The mountain lion remembered past hunts of larger game, but those meals, too, were fading from memory as mere small bites.

The first hiker hadn't noticed a thing. He'd been preoccupied with the breathtaking view from the cliff's edge, oblivious to the predatory focus from the woods behind him.

He pulled out his phone, angled it just so, taking his photos for his socials, hoping the exposure was enough before he posted for all the world to see. His final memory was the chilling rush of air as the mountain lion launched from the concealing foliage.

He let out a surprised sound that never even resembled a yell. The animal's teeth tore into the back of his neck with cold, indifferent brutality.

It didn't waste any time and began to feast right where it fell. It finished him all by its self and let the bones stain the mountain's soil with blood and remains.

Days bled into nights, and the mountain lion's hunts became increasingly bold. It grew unafraid of campgrounds, moving like an illusion into the peripheries.

The small, crackling fires of campsites seemed to do little to scare it off. Tents, mere fabric barriers, held no deterrent against its predatory need.

It listened, keen ears twitching, discerning the differences between human chatter and the crackling of twigs, mapping every small move from within their little shelters.

It started watching a lone cabin where a middle-aged man resided with his yellow lab named Jake. The man seemed to be an isolated soul, making no effort to make contact with the world.

His routines consisted of making wood and doing work on his property all the day with the loyal Jake not far. The mountain lion could practically feel the tasty flesh right below the thin skin of man, all he needed was a small opportunity and it would feast like a god for weeks.

The need to feed kept it in the surrounding foliage every day and every night. One evening, Jake barked with fury as the mountain lion stalked on the perimeter.

The man, named Thomas, threw the dog a dirty look. He couldn't take a minute for himself in peace.

The old lab seemed overly worked up with something. Thomas simply assumed a deer or fox was doing their nighttime walk around the forest.

Jake continued his growls and whimpers, but they eventually settled with a low growl. The cat made no movement, it simply let its presence be felt in their home.

Its stare penetrated the weak wooden structure as the man slowly opened the cabin door to try and quiet down the old hound, but as he did a deep chill moved through the woods. It made his breath visible, even when it was a humid fall.

The world seemed to get deathly silent. The leaves weren't rustling, not an animal sound could be made, as if every being was aware they weren't alone with the man.

The mountain lion, hidden just a short ways away from the open doorway, simply sat like a statue. The dog, Jake, watched the doorway with anticipation.

The world seemed to hold it's breath as the two had a silent standoff. It gave Thomas a weird sense of dread and he didn't know why he suddenly became so unnerved.

Maybe he should go back in the house and lock the door. It would calm him some if nothing else.

He closed the door slowly and the moment the click of the deadbolt came alive, it knew it was time. The beast propelled from the darkness, hitting the wooden walls of the cabin with a bone shattering THUMP, the entire house shaking from the sheer force.

It continued the assault with full force, tearing and smashing wood in each violent hit. Thomas grabbed his old rifle and found the first two shots completely ineffective, only infuriating it more.

Wood began to splinter away as the door gave way in the middle and fell like weak twigs in an awful burst of a wooden cloud. It crashed down like the sound of trees falling to the ground in an awful death rattle.

He turned his aim back to the lion, this time landing some rounds, finally. But his effort did very little to hinder its path as it leaped across the remains of his door with incredible swiftness.

Thomas fired as much as possible and hoped, only making sure to keep that old dog safe and out of the crossfire, but with every shell, the beast showed no sign of slowing down, with just the desire for bloodshed as it kept barreling into his house.

Thomas and the mountain lion engaged in an epic fight in the confined cabin as every single round the gun carried went into the cat's skin. Thomas's ears rung and body ached as his gun made it's last dying clunk when he shot it the very last time, not realizing he didn't have more ammunition with him, his one huge mistake, and his ultimate failing.

The mountain lion's body twitched from being torn by so many bullets and from being so hungry and desperate to eat, but it knew it'd finally achieve its ultimate goal.

Thomas felt the heat from the cat's body as it made a final lunge for him. It clawed his face open and locked his shoulders with bone-crushing force, biting right into his jugular and holding on for the final breaths he would ever have.

It all came so fast for Thomas, everything went white and a horrible sense of darkness enveloped all that he had known as living.

When Thomas passed on the mountain lion made it's ultimate and brutal decision, but before it ate he stared down to Jake who sat completely paralyzed with shock in the corner, and he smiled a carnivorous, demonic smile that had shown its teeth in absolute terrifying brilliance. It went for Thomas with every bite until there was absolutely nothing but bones.

Every inch was decimated with incredible speed and hunger, so that it could start feeding on another source of flesh and muscle. After Thomas was finished being ravaged, the mountain lion went back into the living area of the house, where the poor yellow lab sat in complete submission and confusion, awaiting what would happen next to him.

It sniffed at the poor dogs eyes before violently dragging him out of the cabin by his neck and taking him to its hunting grounds to make sure that the animal was as scared as possible before finally consuming him alive as well. Every bit of him was eaten like the beast was on its final meal of all time, even the old dog's bones were decimated.

It kept going long after they had gone pale and crushed, as if to fully destroy any remnants of those who did him the worst. In the quiet of the new dawn, the cabin stood as a skeletal ruin, bearing the scars of the terrible confrontation.

Patches of Thomas' blood soaked into the soil, the surrounding vegetation already getting nutrients. A single raven perched on what was left of the roof's support, it's obsidian eyes taking in the gore.

The air remained still. It had completely consumed them both and no bit of life from man nor dog remained.

The mountain lion, its hunger finally quelled for now, retreated into the mountains. It padded to a shaded area where a nearby stream flowed over rocks and moss, but its eyes held an awareness that the brief moment of satisfaction would soon return again.

This deep seeded need to eat and consume the world made itself aware every second as it laid itself down, staring at the place where the cabin sat on the top of the mountain. It made sure to burn into its mind where all the delicious prey would soon return again.

There was never truly going to be a sense of calm for this animal as the endless void kept creeping forward in its belly. The cycle had started and wouldn't finish, but not with more hunting and more blood on this mountain.

No, the ending had just truly begun.