Human Hunt

Troy Mickelson was an American photographer, one who specified in capturing wild animals in the forests of southern Georgia. It was an innocent and fairly well paid job. Sure it had its difficulties and the thing about art related business opportunities like this, is that sometimes the need to finish the job over being creative can result in less than satisfactory photos. I've had that experience with my own work as a writer, some books and articles are much, much harder to finish than others when the inspiration or passion behind such projects inevitably fades out. That's what happened to Troy in his own career, his photos lost their artist flare, his signature style faded with more generic photos you could find anywhere online or in every natural wildlife magazine. Troy had to up his game and fast, which led him down a dark path of desperation and fear. He dared cross into private property, in an attempt to capture an exceedingly rare parrot with purple and yellow feathers that only existed in remote areas of the wilderness. However, upon entering this dark forbidden area of the forest, Troy soon found himself in deeper trouble than a mere fine. The owners of this land weren't too fond of strangers. Little did he know that they were cannibalistic killers and that the rumour of the rare yellow and purple parrot, was nothing but a lie created by them in order to lure in daring trespassers like Troy into their despicable murder trap. Troy wouldn't be the first idiot to go beyond the borders of safety, it is believed that many have died in this private property but (as far as I am aware) only Troy has returned to tell his tale and I must warn you that it is truly, ungodly horrific! When he first entered this private woodland, nothing seemed out of the ordinary except for the very subtle smell of rotting. Like spoilt meat or sour eggs. It was rising from the swamp that looked like it belonged to an ogre from an out of dark fairytale. This might've scared most trespassers, but Troy was desperate for quality content for his career. In fact, he took a photo of the ghastly swamp, thinking it looked cool and spooky like a scene straight out of a horror movie. Maybe that photo could be the beginning of a new career as a horror movie scout, somebody who goes searching for filming locations and takes photos and videos of said areas for directors. That could be a promising gig. So he continued his adventure into the unknown, feeling brave and confident. His desire to press forwards was foolish, as you are soon to discover. As he pressed forwards, the stench of rot got worse and worse, so strong he could taste it in his throat, like that of mouldy bread, he almost gagged. Then flies began to buzz louder and louder, there were suddenly hundreds of the little buggers! Swarming him and the air, covering the horrifying truth that lay just a few feet ahead of him. Then he saw it, oh how he wished he could forget it; the sight of a single hand, decayed to the bone, poking out of the wet soil before his feet. He dared to step closer and saw more of this dead body, bloated and stripped of flesh, like that of a melted action figure left in the microwave far too long. Then, he did puke, only adding to the foul odour of death that assaulted his nostrils. Obviously Troy didn't take a photo of this rotting corpse, that sight was far too real and horrifying to witness. No horror director on earth would wish to see that, he didn't even need to take a photo, to this very day Troy can't delete that zombie from his haunted mind. Somehow, the story gets even worse! As Troy turned to and ran escape, he alerted one of the nearby lunatics.
"We got ourselves another one!" The red neck laughed, Troy looked upon the stranger in utter horror as he was eating a human ear! Chewing on the flesh of the lobe like it was the fat upon bacon, "he looks yummy!" The cannibal added. Troy didn't say a word, how could he? He was on the verge of pissing himself, terrified and speechless like a deer in the headlights. Then he ran, the opposite direction of the mad man, who was now laughing behind him.
"We got ourselves another runner!" A second voice called, "I like it when they squeal!"
Was Troy squealing? He didn't know, but he just had to get out of there!
"I got him Barney!" A third voice laughed, then a loud, long whip sound erupted from within the darkness behind him. It was an arrow, shot from either a crossbow or manually by an archer. It landed into Troy's back and stung like hell. Yet his adrenaline stopped him from falling forwards and crashing into the hideous muddy ground. He just had to keep running, he just had to escape, so no matter how much his back hurt, he just wouldn't stop fleeing. Troy dived in-between trees, as the arrows shot towards him, one after the other.
"Damn chicken is hard to hit!" The shooter whined.
"Gosh darn it Bobby, last time I ever let you do the shooting!" A fourth voice yelled.
"I'm sorry pa!" Bobby cried.
"Just gimme it here, boy, I'm craving that man's meat!"
The voices faded as Troy fled, he could feel his back bleeding, hot liquid running down his spine from the sharp arrow still hammered into his upper behind. He was growing dizzy from the blood loss, but he couldn't stop now, not when he was so damn close to escape! Eventually he found his car, the red metallic paint was shining like a heavenly beacon, this was his getaway from the murderous rednecks that were approaching him by the second. Their footsteps were booming louder.
"Don't let him get away, pa!" Bobby yelled, as Troy agonisingly ripped away the arrow from his back, opened the car door, sat in the seat, ignited the engine and slammed his foot down on the pedal, racing away at full speed for the first time in his life! Pa fired several arrows from the crossbow at the car, fortunately missing as Troy finally escaped those insane lunatics.