Based on Christine Feehan's Game Series

The whole island had gone silent. Animals knew something far more dangerous than the top predators they knew was hunting, and his hunting wasn't as necessary as many would believe. The dampening moisture, along with the high humidity and extreme heat, created a suffocating environment for any human -but not for him. He roamed his island with the presence of a king, though he was rarely seen. His presence was mostly felt, and only someone who was stupid enough to ignore all his senses would be able to not notice him. It was just a matter of survival: animals knew he was coming and they simply escaped his path. Still, many humans didn't know when to run or when to hide, and he was ready to show them their greatest mistake.

Sprinting through the jungle, a dark figure could be spotted if you were fast enough. A tall, dark figure, clad in black garments. Tied to his left hip, a survival knife hung freely. It shone dangerously, reflecting some of the scarce light which managed to go through the jungle's dense canopy. He appeared to be wearing some black sportswear: black tight shirt, mimicking his every move, and black sweatpants along with some tennis shoes. His skin contrasted just too much with the dark setting behind him: it was white and somewhat milky. His hair was black and completely wild, mainly because of all the sprinting he did. Even though he was impressive, what truly made everyone stare was his eyes. His eyes were of an intense golden color, but they weren't comforting at all. Those golden eyes shone with madness and rage, with all the threat his whole being posed to every single living being on the island. What made everything even worse is that he knew the reaction and impact he had on others. In that island, he was ruler and king. In that island, he decided who lived and who died. In his island, he was God.

Eltiask's eyes shot up to the sky as he heard some strange noises. If he remembered correctly, those were explosions. With a powerful jump, he clutched to the nearest tree and climbed to the top. Once there, he scanned the skies in search for something. Soon enough, he got his reward: two turbines of a nearby flight had caught fire mysteriously. Judging by the direction the plane was taking, it was going to collide soon enough with his island's beach. His lips curved into a dark, twisted smile as he jumped down and started to walk to the beach.

-"Welcome home..."

The smoke was suffocating, as was the orange plastic her face was squashed on. Around her, Melanie's hazy mind could hear groaning, but could not distinguish between her own and that of the other passengers. Mustering all the energy in her body, Melanie was able to roll herself over and gazed at the sky.

Her vision returned gradually, allowing her to take in this suddenly new environment. The scent of crude oil mixed with the smell of the salty ocean, creating a not-so-pleasant aroma. Another burst of energy. She sat up, rubbing her head and running her fingers through her wavy black hair. The plane was completely ruined. Metal was scattered all over the beach while a fire continued to blaze on the engine. Glass littered the sand and the passengers just started to regain the ability to move.

But where was she?

Melanie pushed herself up, her legs locking, supporting her weight as she stood. She brushed the sand and debris off of her black skinny jeans and maroon tank top, surveying the land, her mind resetting itself into survival mode. I have to find out where I am... she thought while tying her unruly hair back. The GPS on the plane, of course!

Before she could run, a scream tore through her thoughts. Alarmed, the young woman turned towards the sound, her hands coming up to her face, ready to defend herself. Instead of a threat, Melanie saw a middle-aged woman bent over a man. Her husband, if Melanie remembered correctly. The woman's anguished cries of "No!" tore at Melanie's heart. Was the man okay? With a sigh, she rushed over to them.

"He's not responding!" the woman cried hoarsely.

"Miss, let me take a look at him."

"He's not responding! He's not moving!"

"Miss, I understand, I think I should take a look at him."

"He's not-"

"Miss, I think you should take a few breaths and allow the young lady to look at him," a voice cut in. Melanie looked up to see the copilot beside her. At least he survived the crash.

"Thank you," Melanie said, nodding to him as he helped the woman up and lead her away. She went back to examining the man, calling out to him, but no response. Then Melanie noticed the dark spot under the man's head. Oh no... Melanie lifted the head up and felt the liquid on her fingers. She took a deep breath, not liking the feeling of death around her. And the feeling was strong. She traced a finger to his pulse. Nothing.

"Is he alright?" The woman was back.

"I'm sorry Ma'am," Melanie whispered. The anguished cry the woman let out was inhuman, and it nearly cut Melanie's heart in half.

As he had predicted, the Boeing 747 had crashed exactly on the middle of the beach he used to frequent to get some food if he wasn't in the mood for hunting. The air around him got that special scent when fires were burning, mixed with burnt metal, plastic and fabric. If his nose wasn't playing jokes on him (which hardly happened), he could swear there was some human flesh mixed with all those scents he could detect. Once more, his twisted grin curved his lips as he crouched behind a near palm tree and waited. That's when he began to feel them all.

There was this huge something which Eltiask couldn't really point out about death that thrilled him to his limits. Maybe it was the idea of observing how a human's life suddenly ended or the possibility of ending it himself with the knowledge he had, but death, when he provoked it or watched it, always sent a huge adrenaline rush throughout his body, making his senses keener and his actions sharper. That was precisely what happened moments after he had crouched. A deep, inhuman scream. Then, a woman was crying. Eltiask's pupils dilated as his body tensed and his smile grew even more wicked. "Death..." His mind told him several people had survived. All of them were intruders, and as so they should be punished.

-"But... What's the point of punishing without some fun?"

He inhaled deeply as he climbed once more onto the palm tree and began to leap from one trunk to another, reaching the precise position in which he could expose himself and retreat in less than a heartbeat. He had a plan, a plan in which he would win no matter who apparently won. That was his island, and no outsider was welcomed there. He was going to make that clear enough for them to listen. He stopped leaping and simply fell down the trunk, dusted himself off, and began walking casually to the beach, making his way to where the crash site was and all the survivors were struggling to stay alive. Once he was close enough and without anyone noticing, he unsheathed his survival knife and stated in a deep, thundering voice:

-"You are not welcomed here, outsiders."

The woman screamed again. This time in fear. Melanie looked up, trying to determine the source of the sound. A human voice. A human on the island. If he wanted them out so badly, maybe he could help. But where was he coming from? Melanie started to concentrate, her mind receding to draw on the power in her system.

"Who the hell are you?!" The connection snapped. The copilot glared at the trees. "We don't even want to be on this island. We want to get off. If you don't want us here, help us out then, instead of playing a stupid game!"

The woman hid behind the copilot as did the other passengers who had woken up. Melanie stood beside him, trying to access everything. "I don't think he wants to help," she muttered to the man beside her. The air around them seemed to tense. Nothing good would come out of this. Melanie had that feeling, and it was usually never wrong. "Let's go see if there's a radio on the plane or something. Or a survival kit."

"Madam, I'm pretty sure I can handle Mr. Big Bad Islander over here. I have experience in surviving this type of situation."

"Why do I get the feeling this is not like other situations?"

"Madam, you worry too much. This man will come to his senses soon and help us off the island."

"Well in case soon takes a while, I think we should try to page the mainland and get a survival kit."

"Madam, everything will we fine."

Well my Spidey-senses aren't saying the same thing... Melanie rubbed her temple, feeling a throbbing pain start up. She turned and headed to the plane, still trying to access her surroundings. The nagging feeling of danger was not going away.

-"Oh, but it's not a stupid game. Your life depends on it."

Eltiask raised his knife as he stared intently to all the people gathered in front of him. The sense of dominance, the fear they were expelling, their vulnerability, and his knowledge of their lives ending soon totally sent his mind haywire just as if he had consumed drugs. He inhaled shortly and then took a step forward, knife on his left hand but held backwards.

-"Listen well. You want to leave this island and I do not want you here. However, you must earn your right no leave this place. I propose you all a game: survive two weeks in this island and I will let you go."

The plane wasn't all too bad. Melanie pushed aside the door and found the kits. Three survival kits, one first aid kit. That should last them a while, but where was the radio? She managed to make her way to the cockpit where she continued to mash buttons and look for a pager of some sort.


"What the hell are you, crazy?!" the copilot shouted angrily. The other passengers agreed, and started to yell too. Melanie watched them through the window, knowing full well that the man was very serious. Her head started to pound again, but this time she ignored them. She had to find a way out of here, and quickly.

Finding a head set, Melanie swooped to put in on, hoping that the transmitter still worked. "Paging control." Nothing. "Paging control!" Nothing. "Paging control, we have a crashed plane on an island somewhere in the Pacific. Plane was supposed to head from China to Los Angeles. One dead. Five surviving. Requesting assistance." Once more, nothing. Melanie took off the headset. So that's it. We are forced to play his game...

"This has got to be some kind of joke!" the copilot said. "Come on out here, game master! Where are the cameras? Who's hosting this ridiculous show? I'm getting real tired of this prank here!"

Melanie took the kits and headed out. "Guys, let's not goad him anymore and focus on surviving!" she shouted from a distance.

"Nonsense, ma'am, pranksters are to be dealt with by using strict discipline," the copilot replied reassuringly.

"And if he's not a prankster and actually serious?"

"There is no way."

"I'm not willing to take a chance on it, so can you stop trying to reason with him and focus on living?"

"He's not going to actually try and kill us, is he?" the woman asked.

"Of course no-"

"He is." Melanie scanned her surroundings once more. The man was good, because even she couldn't find him. That only made him all the more dangerous. The pounding in her head returned. "Let's just get away from such an open space." She started to head into the trees, her gaze still going back and forth, trying to find him.

Mayhem erupted throughout the passengers while they tried to decide if Eltiask was being serious or not. He observed the passengers intently, as if he was analyzing the behavior of some new species. Hidden atop a palm tree, he was able to get a full view of what everyone was doing.

-"There is no game master but me."

After stating his position as director, mastermind, and judge, Eltiask then rushed forward to where the copilot was trying to calm all the passengers. If they didn't believe in what he had warned them, he might as well make his point very clear. Once more, he unsheathed his survival knife and, just like a predator would do, leaped forward and grabbed the copilot's neck without him really understanding what was going on. He stopped and stood in front of the passengers and spoke.

-"You wish not to believe, but there is no harsher way to realize something is real than by the total devastation of your childish illusions."

He turned around and stared at the copilot's face, directly into his eyes. He saw fear and desperation, and smiled darkly. With his left hand, he slashed deeply on the copilot's neck, just above his sternum. The sounds that followed transformed his grin into the smile of a madman.

By slashing on that precise place, Eltiask had managed to pierce the copilot's trachea and some veins. If the first thing didn't cause the copilot's death, the second thing would surely do. As he had expected, the second thing began to happen. Blood gushed out of the wound, drenching Eltiask's garments completely. Immediately after that, the copilot began to choke. His whole body was shaken by a coughing fit, followed by seizures. All the while, Eltiask had been holding the copilot with his right hand. The huntsman stared directly into the man's eyes moments before he died. In them, he saw that certainty of death coming near, of a wasted life, and of immense fear. Moments after, all traces of life had left the copilot's eyes and body, and that was Eltiask's queue to throw the body right in front of the passengers.

-"Two weeks. Survive and I'll let you go. Perish "-here, he looked at the body lying in front of him-" and something worse than his fate awaits you."

The hunter then sprinted off lightly while he sheathed his knife into the jungle, smiling darkly all the way. "It's on..."

Melanie turned swiftly with the other passengers, and like them, let out a scream at the sight of their copilot on the ground. Death was rampant now, and it was nauseating. Several passengers rushed forward to check body while Melanie tried to keep her lunch. She took a few deep breaths and pressed a hand to her stomach. It was killing her, crushing her even. Melanie looked up, hearing the clear warning that she and the others were not welcome here. She watched the man disappear into the words, his speed completely inhuman.

What?

She took another deep breath, forcing down the wave of sickness. "Guys we have to get out of plain sight now." She pulled the woman with her towards the trees.

Just how are we going to survive this?

Tugging open the survival kit, she found a revolver and a knife, for in case the wilderness was dangerous. Which it was... Melanie decided to keep them on her. "We have to be very careful."

She looked up into the trees, hoping they would be left alone for the rest of the day. Her head started to hurt again. She knew hew luck was running low. Just don't think about the death.

"No one will survive... You are all destined to die in here by my hand."

The huntsman came to a halt as he neared a small lake filled with crystal clear water. He kneeleed near the shore and took off his shirt, throwing it onto a nearby rock. While doing so, he caught a glimpse of his own reflection on the water and stared silently. What did he see? He saw a murderer with no remorse whatsoever o what he did, he saw a man corrupted to his own essence and soul, he saw darkness within his own being, he saw someone he knew perfectly well but could not point out where had they met.

-"Stranger in a strange land, what do you wish for?"

Eltiask then stood up, grabbed his shirt, and dove into the lake, enjoying the coldness of the water on his skin. However, this changed moments after. The once clear water soon became crimson as the hunter cleaned himself of the copilot's blood. Crimson water flowed downstream, probably reaching the ocean after some time, but it was still crimson. It was a warning to anyone who found the stream, it was a warning even to himself.

Once he had cleaned himself, Eltiask got out of the lake, water dripping down his body, and started to make his way deeper into the island. He knew the place perfectly well, he could feel almost anything within the boundaries of his island and he could tell if something was wrong or someone was chasing him. He knew all of them would come searching for food and water, and that was precisely what Eltiask was aiming for. He was the hunter and they were his prey, and one by one they were going to fall down until none remained.

And then there were four...

Melanie pushed her way through the forage, wishing that for once, she grew up like a normal child in a suburban community. Perhaps she would've been more fit to survive on a deserted island. Or paid more attention to those survival shows on TV. The woman behind her was getting hysterical. "We're all going to die!" Extremely hysterical.

"No, we're got going to die," replied the man that was seated beside her.

"Are you high, that man is insane! Of course we're going to die!" That was the pilot who finally stopped seeing double. He still had a bit of adrenaline left in him, which might prove helpful later.

"Guys, we have to stay calm. If we can survive two weeks, we'll be fine," Melanie tried to explain.

"But can he be trusted? He just killed a man!"

"Then we do our hardest to survive! The survival kit is supposed to aid us for a month. We can make it, but we can't be careless."

Shelter! That was it. Find shelter first.

But then again, it was his island. He probably knew the place back and forth. Melanie cursed. The food required water. A fire was too noticeable. This man was obviously trained to take out his enemy. The scenario was too familiar to be comforting. We're stuck...

NIGHT ONE

Darkness had fallen and covered the island with its mantle, dotted only by the millions of stars shining dimly that night. In the middle of all the shadows of the jungle, a pair of amber eyes shone dangerously, denoting the movement of the topmost predator of the island through his territory. Once more he was wearing black garments, providing enough camouflage for what he needed. However, if he wanted to remain unseen, he wouldn't be seen at all. Eltiask decided to scan the terrain to point out where the survivors were and, if needed be, give them a second lesson.

Sprinting silently through the jungle, Eltiask's mind was always lost on his prey: find, scan, and if needed, eliminate. His primal instincts were the ones ruling his body, twisting his perceptions until he saw the world as a huge hunting process. He didn't mind, though: he had been designed for that. The hunter sprinted forward lightly without making a single noise, hiding from time to time behind a trunk or on some branches as he moved, scanning his surroundings to find the intruders. He was starting to think it had been a bad idea to let them all live, though. Their presence irritated him deeply, but he had to be fair. If they managed to best him (which he truly doubted), be would let them go. But for that, they needed first to find him and then to kill him, which wasn't going to happen anytime soon.

"Why can't we start a fire?"

Melanie looked to the sky, watching the moon. "Because he will know."

"He's not that good, Melanie," the woman, who upon a day or survival bonding Melanie learned was named Sandra, replied.

"He killed the copilot and ran back into the jungle within a matter of minutes. He is indeed that good."

"But we need to eat!"

Melanie sighed, fingering the gun she strapped around her waist. "Fine, just get ready to run. Mike, let's get a fire started."

The men worked to gathering the branches to turn into a fire as Melanie looked through the pack at the instructions for the food. "Use a flashlight," Sandra complained. Melanie ignored her; she had been born with extremely good eyesight, including night vision and if she worked really hard, ability to see heat. "It's fine, let's not draw even more attention to ourselves."

"Oh for the love of--" Sandra took the flashlight and shone it on the packets. Melanie sighed, handing her the packets of food and instead went to the canteen of water they had picked up.

"The fire's on!" The group gathered together, following the instructions on the packets and making their food. Melanie looked to the foliage, watching for movement. Her hand already was resting on the gun. The smoke was rising and the fire provided enough light to be noticed. She took a deep breath, that horrible feeling rising again.

Smoke. The intruders had dared to light a fireplace to keep themselves warm and cozy up against the flames. Eltiask snorted heavily. Were they even that dumb? He shook his head lightly and then a soft and dark smile danced on his lips.

-"So be it, they deserve to know better..."

He sniffed the air lightly and then began to make his way to where the air's scent led him, taking his bow over his shoulders and placing an arrow on it. He soon stopped following his nose and started to follow his eyes, though: the fire was strong enough to light his path all the way back up to fifty yards away, which the huntsman truly found stupid. "Don't they understand they're struggling to survive?" Once more, he shook his head and kept on creeping closer as silently as always, cloaked in shadows and moving unnoticed.

Once he had crept close enough, he kneeled down behind some bushes which let him view all of the survivors in one glance. He readied his arrow and waited. They were all eating. Two males and two females. One of the females was facing him directly, the other was sitting with her back turned to him. The hunter decided she was going to be his next victim. He tensed his bow and aimed before he released the silent arrow which flew silently and hit the woman directly between her shoulder blades.

-"Two down, three more remain..."

{OoC: I'll let you decide how they find out she's dead and how they react to it.}

Melanie didn't know which she noticed first, the sickening feeling of death, or the thunk of the impact of the arrow on Sandra. Her eyes instantly averted to the shadow in the bushes, seeing his shape clearly. "Get back!" she yelled, her hands bringing up the gun to aim. With her finger on the trigger, Melanie was facing a horrible dilemma: shoot or not to shoot.

The thought of killing anybody was already enough to make her collapse. If she didn't kill him, the people around her would die. Melanie took a deep breath, her mind decided. She shot the bushes, but not the body. It would at least by here time.

The death was eating at her, making her stomach rebel and her head ache. "She's dead," Mike said to her. Melanie sighed. "I know. He's a hunter, trained to take out the enemy." At this point, Melanie was very sure of what the man was capable of.

"Let's just...bury her..." She found the urge to run away and vomit, and instead, crouched down beside the dead Sandra.

She looked back to the bushes, wondering about this man. How had he escaped? Even she, as free as she was, could not escape. But he was dangerous. Just as dangerous.

Eltiask had decided to observe how everything would develop after they found out the woman was dead. However, the remaining female reacted much faster than everyone else, quickly standing and pointing the gun she had been holding to where he was standing. This definitely sent the hunter's instincts haywire, making him throw his bow over his shoulders and roll away from the spot. She had seen him in the darkness. She could spot him if she wanted. "Finally, a worthy opponent!"

After making sure no one was following him, Eltiask climbed up a tree and crouched there, observing his prey from afar. They were burying the dead woman, and this only caused the hunter to snort silently. "You're not lasting long enough, not with so many mistakes..." And so, he waited. He decided to wait for his next chance to strike, and vowed not to let that woman out of his sight. If she could spot him, Eltiask was sure there was more she was capable of.

From the bottom of his quiver, the hunter took out a small sheet of paper. With his knife, he pierced his flesh and with the blood that rushed out of the wound, he wrote the following words:

I'm watching

He then attached it to an arrow, aimed, and shot. The arrow hit directly on a trunk near the survivors. Now it was just a matter of time before paranoia settled in between them.

The other man, Paul, let out the loudest possible scream on earth, hitting a frequency that even Melanie couldn't even dare to copy. Mike followed suit with a similar shriek, though not as piercing as the first. Melanie winced, but was left to stare at the message, her heart beating wildly. He was so close to us...

"We're gonna die! That's it, it's that simple. We are going to die. He's going to kill us. I didn't even get to tell my wife I loved her and don't want a divorce, this is it, we're going to die!" Paul started to hyperventilate, falling to the ground and rocking back and forth.

"Mike, stay here and calm him down."

"Where are you going?"

Melanie started at the warm blood on the ground, watching as the red emission faded into orange. He is not too far away. "I'm going to see if I can find him."

"Are you crazy?! He could kill you!"

"Do you know how to use a gun?"

"Well...yes..."

"Here." Melanie handed Mike another gun from the pack. "Keep the food on you in case I don't come back. And for the love of god, no more fires."

With that Melanie cautiously headed deeper into the wood, her gun poised and ready to strike. She was following the heat of the hunters blood. "Show yourself!" she insisted.

"Melanie! Come back!" Mike yelled. Paul continued crying.

"Melanie!" The voice was further away now. Melanie looked up into the trees. She could've sworn she saw some heat emitting from a figure.

"Melanie!" Her concentration broke, and just like that, only her night vision was left. Melanie gingerly stepped back, holding her gun up. "I'm coming!" she replied, and took off back to camp.

"Did you find him?"

"No, he is dangerous and quick. We have to go now. Let's just pack up. And Paul! If you don't pull yourself together, you will be the next one off. Hurry!"

Her stomach rebelled. Death was going to come again. And soon.

The shrieks he heard lifted Eltiask's spirit to the skies as he smiled widely, welcoming paranoia just like an old friend would do. They were completely terrorized. To the survivors, he just couldn't be real: a man who killed other humans without remorse and without being seen at all. One of the men simply fell to the ground and started crying. The hunter laughed lowly. "You're next..." He took another arrow from his quiver and aimed, but before he could steady his gaze, something interrupted him.

From the corner of his eye, the hunter saw a figure walking towards him. The figure was walking willingly to him, and was carefully analyzing the scenery, as if trying to find someone. Eltiask lowered his bow and shove the arrow back in his quiver as he stared at the woman. She was looking for him. He took a deep breath and then hid behind the tree he had been standing on, keeping his bow to his being and not moving a single muscle. "She's way too good..." Even though she almost found her, after a moment or two she simply turned around and walked away, telling the other two they had to get moving. Eltiask waited for a moment and then leaped down the tree, hung his bow from his shoulder, and began to chase his prey once more.

The survivors immediately got moving, which made things somewhat easier for him. He kept his distance (around twenty feet away from them) just in case he needed to escape, but in general he was chasing them closely. One man was completely broken, and Eltiask had decided he was going to be his next victim. After all, no one misses crybabies, right? They reached a clearing with the lake Eltiask had found before and stopped. Like them, the hunter stopped and stalked his prey, waiting for the right moment to strike.

"How is he?"

"He's breathing again normally, if that helps."

"It doesn't. He's still cold?"

"Yes."

"We can't build a fire and we don't have anything to put on him."

Melanie shivered, her mind going on alert. She knelt t the lake and opened the canteen, filling it to the brim with water. "Paul, drink." She tipped the canteen into his mouth and watched him swallow.

"Maybe we should find shelter for the night?"

"But where? We're by a lake. I see no caves or formations, and we don't really have anything."

"I'm trying to be optimistic here, Melanie. Paul's in no condition to be moving around. He's having a panic attack."

"I can see that! But we have no where to go. Let's just work on calming Paul down."

"Do you think he followed us?"

Melanie looked to the foliage, her skin prickly and uncomfortable. She knew exactly what that meant. Concentrating hard, her eyes flickered from dark brown to honey, allowing her heat vision to take over. He was there. In the tree. Twenty feet away. Melanie leaned in close to Mike. "Put Paul on your back and run," she whispered as quietly as she could.

Mike looked up. "He's--"

"Hurry now."

Mike did not hesitate, lifting the man and taking off into the forest. The moment Melanie heard Mike's footsteps, she raised her gun. Bile rose and her entire being protested. She couldn't aim straight for a vital organ; she would never forgive herself. Her hear beat wildly and her head started to hurt in the most unholy manner.

Melanie pulled the trigger, aiming for his leg, hoping that would at least slow him down. Her heat vision saw blood, but not nearly enough. Only a graze. Again. She cocked the gun and shot, seeing the bullet make its way into the man's leg.

Her mind gave her an ultimatum, squeezing Melanie's brain. She cried out once in pain, dropping the heat vision, and falling to her knees. Gripping the gun, Melanie held it straight up, hoping that would protect her at least.

They stopped. The broken man was in no condition to look for himself, so he was being much more of a burden to the others than anything else. In a way, Eltiask was going to do them a favor by killing him. He took an arrow from his quiver, placed it on his bow, and aimed. The woman had walked up to the lake and was filling a canteen while the other man looked over the broken man. The hunter inhaled deeply and pulled his bow's string up to his right side of his face and aimed. It was a perfect shot: great visibility, no obstacles in the middle, and the target wasn't even moving. Nothing could go wrong.

Wrong. Before he could really tell what was going on, the woman turned around and aimed her gun exactly to where Eltiask was standing. She shot, and the hunter had to decide whether to hit the man or avoid the bullet. None worked. He shot, but the arrow missed the target merely by inches. He tried to evade the bullet, but that didn't work either: the bullet pierced his thigh, causing him to grunt lowly in pain. The first bullet was followed closely by a second which hit the outer part of his thigh. Grunting again in pain, there was nothing Eltiask could do to prevent his fall from the tree. All which he did was to protect his bow and fall on his back.

The impact stole the hunter's breath, leaving him motionless for some seconds. Once he was able to move once more, the first thing he did was to check his thigh. Luckily for him, none of the bullets had pierced important blood vessels, and as he inspected the wound, it was already healing. He frowned and glared at the woman. "It's definitely on. You're going down next." Standing shakily, Eltiask made walked wearily away from the lake, aiming to find shelter until his leg was completely healed.

For a second, Melanie truly wanted to reveal who she really was to the hunter and let her mind release a full telekinetic attack on him. She refrained, watching the man just run away. If he was anything like her, she knew that her hitting him only bought them a little bit of time. He would definitely come back. With revenge only on his mind.

Melanie sat there for a short while longer, waiting for her body to regain more energy. Then she stood up and took off after Mike and Paul.

"Stay back! I've got a gun!"

"Mike, it's me."

"Me, who?"

"Me, Melanie."

"What happened?"

"Let's not talk about it. Is Paul okay?"

"He was almost killed. He's going into a hysteria."

"I wish we could snap him out of it."

"You and me both. So what now?"

Melanie felt her surroundings and determined that there was no threat. "We will be fine for now. Let's sleep, but just...be ready to wake up and move when we have to. Paul, let's get you some more water."

After calming Paul down for a second time, Melanie propped him against a tree. "Mike, go to sleep. I will keep watch tonight." He body protested that decision, but she knew that her abilities were the only things keeping them safe. Melanie watched as Mike and Paul fell asleep, and continued to survey her surroundings. She would be dead tired the next day, but something told her that adrenaline would keep her running in the morning.

I shouldn't feel bad about hurting him. I shouldn't be hesitant to kill him...

But I am...

That knowledge unsettled Melanie greatly.

DAY TWO

It had been a restless night for the hunter. He had retired to his shelter, located deep within the island, and had kept vigilance all night long, bow clutched against his chest. His leg had healed quickly, but he wanted to make sure there were no consequences of those shots he had received. Besides, he needed a more careful approach than what he had been using to hunt them down. That woman could spot him in the middle of the night with no effort whatsoever, and that truly upset him. Why could she do that? Who was she? That was what intrigued Eltiask the most: he needed to know who she was.

At dawn, the hunter left his shelter with bow in hand and knife ready to strike if needed be, searching for his victims. Oh, that woman was going to pay dearly for what she had done, but first he had to finish off the other two. They were simply nonsenses in his game, and as so, they had to be eliminated quickly. He neared the lake he had found the day before, and once he was there, began to make his way silently through the forest, bow ready to shoot if the situation needed it. He scanned the ground and found footprints. A dark smile curved his lips as he began to follow them. "You are all dead..."

When the sky was pink, Melanie knew that it was time to go. She stood up and stretched, rubbing her tired eyes. She took fifteen minute power naps in thirty minute intervals. While it was dangerous, it was also extremely necessary; her abilities would have alerted her it true danger was approaching.

"Hey guys, wake up." She prodded Mike and Paul, hoping that at least Paul had recovered from his panic attack.

He hadn't. Not really.

"He has no energy left in him," Mike murmured to her as they finished their quick breakfast. "Hopefully the food will give him something."

"I think his will is very close to breaking. We have to be very careful. The man is angry. Get Paul some more water and then refill the canteen."

Melanie looked to the wood, knowing that the hunter would be tracking them. Hopefully this will throw him off... She scattered their junk all over the place and tossed up the soil, leading different tracks. She hoped at least that he was not enhanced with superhuman smell.

"Okay, let's go. Paul, you too. Everything will be alright."

The three of them walked together, Melanie trying to be as light as possible. Every once in a while, she stopped them to cover their tracks and create new, fake ones. Her hand remained on the gun, ready for anything.

Paul was getting closer and closer to another wave of hysteria. His whimpers became louder and louder. "We're not going to make it out alive. We're not!"

"Paul! Quiet!" Mike reprimanded.

"We're not!" He tackled Mike to the ground, his eyes feral. Paul had snapped.

The noise and the rustling was loud. Melanie knew they were drawing attention. Even the wildlife started to give them away.

"Paul!" She tried to pull him off of Mike, but Paul's strength was inhuman-his hysteria giving him extra power.

Melanie looked around and knew that if they were to survive, she had to do this. She reached into the man's mind and tried to calm him from there, but was rejected. Paul was gone. He had truly lost it. Melanie tried to pry the man off, but to no avail.

The hunter kept on tracking down his prey. It was being quite easy: they had left him a pretty nice trail to follow. However, he was being extremely careful now. Why? That woman. In Eltiask's mind, that woman posed a direct threat to him and the domain he had over the whole island. She needed to be neutralized as soon as possible, no mistakes could be afforded.

After a while, though, the track split into different directions. The hunter frowned slightly at this, knowing pretty well she knew their only chance of survival was to stick together. He exhaled gently and closed his eyes. If they were playing, he would play too. He was trying to connect with the forest, trying to get the information he needed to find them. However, it wasn't necessary at all. He started hearing noises. Wildlife had gone crazy somewhere, and it seemed there were more living beings there than simple animals. Bow in hand, Eltiask then sprinted towards that place. He was sure they were there.

His intuition didn't fail him: trying to calm down a hysterical man, about forty feet away, the woman and the other man were fighting for survival. Luckily for the hunter, they hadn't noticed him. He readied his bow, aimed, pulled the string up to his face, and released. The arrow flew directly into the hysterical man's head, stopping his attacks immediately. This time, though, the hunter didn't stop with just one death. He threw his bow over his shoulders, unsheathed his survival knife, and dashed forward, aiming for a double kill with the other man.

Blood splattered over Melanie's body along with what she knew was tissue. The feeling of death wrapped itself around her, causing her to emit a terrified scream as the memory engraved itself into her mind. The empty look in Paul's eyes brought tears into Melanie's.

She saw a flash, and knew exactly the man was headed. "Mike!" she warned, pulling the man out of the way. The adrenaline was officially running through her system now. As she swung Mike out of the path of the hunter, she lifted her gun, firing another shot at him, knowing full well that she had missed.

Melanie felt horrible about leaving Paul's body like that, but she knew that it was crunch time. They had to run. And fast. "Let's go!" She continued to lead Mike through the forest. There were only two of them left and it was terrifying. The blood seemed to burn her skin. I will never be clean of this.

At first, Mike kept up with Melanie, but he wasn't trained in gymnastics like she was. Within the first five minutes of the chase, he tripped. Melanie stopped to help him up. Time was running out. The feeling of dread started to choke her as her head started to throb in pain. Any more of this, and Melanie was sure she would lose that tight control of her power that she had been so proud of.

That was precisely what Eltiask had been looking for: an open chase through his territory. When he saw the woman pulling away the man from where he was, a wicked grin curved his lips as he inhaled deeply and dashed forward. He held his survival knife tightly in his left hand, running as fast as he could and pushing himself from his own limits just to get to his prey. Bloodlust was clouding his senses, his eyes had turned into a deep amber color, turning him more feral than any time before. It was just a matter of time before one of the survivors fell. No one was ready for such stressing situations and running, so Eltiask just endured as he had always done.

Soon, the man tripped and fell. The woman stopped and helped him up, then kept on running. However, the hunter was closing the distance between them dangerously. He was just a mere dark blur running through the jungle, his eyes fixed on that moving objective he had set in his mind as his top priority. Once the distance was almost nullified, Eltiask jumped forward, grabbed the man by his head, pulled him backwards, and stabbed him right on his neck. Blood gushed from the wound, but the hunter just kept on stabbing. The man's screams of pain and desperation slowly faded away, leaving him covered in darkness and his eyes staring into nothingness. Breathing heavily, the hunter then pushed the body aside and shouted as loud as he could. "You're going next! Sooner or later you will be dead by my hand!"