Open Season

by Jackson T.
(Mississauga)

A deer is so innocent

A deer is so innocent

Bang! Blood sprayed from the deer's head as the bullet made contact. The glassy-eyed buck teetered and then collapsed. "Perfect Shot" Roger congratulated himself. He blew on the barrel of his rifle for an added effect. Roger grabbed the deer's antler's and dragged it back to his cozy cabin. He left the lifeless body by his front door and propped his .22 next to it. "Now for some tea and a nap!" Roger announced.


The gingery smell of Orange Pekoe swirled up through his nostrils and filled his body with warmth. He took a sip of the blistering hot tea. His eyelids began to flutter, his jaw slackened and within minutes, he was snoring.

Bang!Bang!Bang! Gunshots follwed by human screams rang out. Roger was in the middle of a thicket and was surrounded by tall evergreens. A piercing scream, cut short, caused Roger to begin to panic. Then there was complete silence, save a bird chirping. Suddenly a man burst from the brambles, clothes bloodstained and torn. "AAAHHH!" he screeched. Bang! The man's head exploded. An upright buck wielding a semi-automatic rifle emerged behind the dead man. "Perfect Shot!" the deer sneered and pressed a black hoof on the dead person's back.

Roger was back in his cabin. A foul stench violated his nose. He searched and immediatley found the source of the smell. Where all his game heads had been on the wall there were now rotting and bloodied human faces mounted on plaques. None of them were familiar, except for the one on the end. It was his own.

Roger's eyelids flew open. Something was fiddling with the front door. He froze. A bang and a snarl were enough to break his trance. He grabbed his emergency radio and ducked into the coat closet. Roger stifled the urge to vomit. Next to him was a decaying human carcass with multiple bullet wounds. He heard the sound of hooves clacking on the hardwood floor. Roger flicked on an emergency radio. "Please help!" he whisper-yelled into the microphone. The response was four words in a guttural voice. "Open season on humans." the radio crackled.

The closet door burst open. Roger dove into a pile of clothes. "Poor hiding skills" something muttered. Roger's disguise was quickly unveiled. The cold metal of a gun pressed up against his head. "Point blank." growled the deer. Roger whimpered. Bang!

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