He hid in the bushes. They were after him. They always were.
They carried guns, the three men. He knew they hated him. He had been living out in the woods all his life, and all they ever wanted was to kill him.
He had learned. Learned to hide, learned when to run.
Do you think the monster’s around? Ron said.
Probably. Donald was the oldest of the three. -Never mind him. He’s harmless.
Dick was more of a silent type. He said nothing, just peered into the woods. He was there, alright. He always was, just outside of sight.
They all knew the story. A freak had been born many years ago, put out in the forest to die. It hadn’t, they didn’t know why. Now it was out there, always hiding from people. No one really cared much, although it did steal a chicken every once in a while. Dick figured it was a small price to pay for such a horrible act, putting a baby out in the forest.
Well, let’s get back to the village, why don’t we. Two pigeons are better than nothing.
They walked. Dick heard something behind him. He looked over his shoulder.
A horribly ugly face peered out at him from the bushes. For a moment their eyes locked. It was human, alright. Ugly as fuck, but human. It looked scared.
The next moment it was gone. Dick said nothing. He was a silent guy.
He ran. Deeper into the forest. The man had seen him. He needed to get away, as far away as possible. They wouldn’t get him this time either.
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