Her Blood

It doesn’t seem the forest will provide cover from the horrors that stalk her. No matter how far she runs, she'll always be found again. It may not be obvious to the predators, but she is terrified. They just don't stop to notice the fear in her eyes.

She runs for the forest because it’s all she knows. It doesn’t matter if she can’t escape there, or if she can’t hide in a hole without being dug up. This place is her life. It is where she will bear her young, so she can take them to all the best areas for feeding, and give them a normal life. Not much else exists apart from the forest. She will explore open ground a lot to search for food, but the comfort within the enveloping trees can't be replaced. 

She uses her agile legs to run along the pathway, hopping nimbly over logs and thorns, hoping the home that has protected her for so long will protect her this time.

She remembers the predators. There were bright colours: an unusual red, harnessed by the beings on the horses. There are loud, shrill noises that ring out and hurt her ears. It seems the ones in red emit them somehow. 

That’s when the other animals come. They’re the dangerous ones, with their barking, their strong legs, and their gnashing teeth. They’re the ones that come for her, aiming for her neck. She’s only just escaped them, and she knows she’ll have to escape them a few more times yet. 

For a moment, there’s a rush of excitement, because she’s seen a burrow. She’s not sure if it’s hers or not, but she doesn’t spare a moment to consider it, rushing to the entrance. She panics as she struggles to fit her swollen belly inside, her agitated claws scrabbling against the ground. With luck, the cubs won’t be disturbed.

The burrow is not hers, she realises. The smell is different. Despite that, it is still comforting; the warmth of it, and the space so small that nothing can reach her. She curls into a fetal position, trying to avoid detection. Perhaps the owner of this burrow will find her and drive her out, but somehow, this is far less threatening than the idea of the predators finding her. She would gladly tackle one of her kind than the aliens who won’t leave her alone.

Other options are becoming less feasible, however, as her ears prick up to sickeningly familiar sounds: howling and snarling, reeking with bloodlust, muffled in the distance, but drawing closer. She panics, but she doesn’t run. It’s like every muscle has seized up within her.

The sounds draw closer. Maybe there’ll be more than the sharp teeth. All of them will find her, and they will outnumber her easily. One against a pack. 

Frightened, she wrenches herself out of the ground with difficulty as the sounds get too close for her liking. But she’s already too late when she emerges. 

An animal pounces on her with a bark, jaw latching around her neck. Teeth sink into her back. Paws pin her down so she is wriggling in desperation. The deafening barks and howls that would remind one of demons drown out her cries of pain as she is slowly overcome. The cubs are moving within her womb. She can feel them as she loses blood, her fur becoming matted, quickly being ripped from her body. 

She’s wheezing as the limbs begin to disappear, taken from her effortlessly. The pack bays in satisfaction as her vision grows faint. She can hear the shrill calls again. The sound of hooves.

A cub paws against her as if to get out.

And then, slowly, but surely, she feels nothing.

*

“Pregnant?” 

“Yes.”

He examines the fox corpse with a calm satisfaction as he holds it by the tail. The thing has a large belly, he’s noticed. Too large. That won’t do at all.

“So…?”

He doesn’t reply to his comrade, dropping the dead creature to the ground and slamming his foot into the body without hesitation. It becomes flatter with every stomp, colouring the forest floor red as everything spills out. The younger man watches, feeling a sickness rise within him. There isn’t just blood. More bodies litter the ground, smaller versions of the prize they’ve won.  For a minute, he is fascinated by the little things.

But none of them last long, thanks to the impossible power of the human foot.