Baron's Last Hunt: PRIMAL EDITION

I stared at him bloodied and bruised as he awoke. A slumber utilizing blunt force trauma allowed him to be rendered unconscious. As the sun set and the night began to slither in I felt deep within myself that I had accomplished my dearest goals. 

“You can tell a lot about a creature based upon his habitat, what he eats, and where he sleeps if he travels in a pack. The little subtle things that make a being truly who they are. Their environment gives all these truths away.” I said slowly walking towards the soon-to-be carcass, I couldn’t help but move slowly to take it all in. 

“And I guess you think you're an expert on me.” The Griffin croaked out, a trace of blood spilling from his mouth after the words he uttered. I couldn’t help but adore this very moment as I watched him peel himself off the onyx-colored tiling and look at me. For his body was failing, but his soul was very much ready for further conflict. 

“Every hunter has its prized trophy, a pelt to replace a rug.-” I began with a level of expectation of what would occur next. 

“You want to slice my head off and put me on a wall or something.” The Griffin interrupted. He began to pull himself backward from me, as I continued to stalk forward. My smile affirmed his prior statement. 

“Don’t degrade yourself, Jeremiah. It won’t change your fate. You more than a trophy” I chuckled, staring deep within his soul for traces of fear. None to be detected. Blacks of his pupils doggedly stared back at me. I continued.

“You are a symbol; of the degradation of mankind. A producer of man-made elements to prolong meaningless lives. A man who claims his successes are for all but are truly for him.” My voice began to hiss, hypnotic frames encased the room in a cerulean haze. 

“I help people, save lives, engineering new methods to give people a chance. I allow people to attain new heights and not be weighed down by their health.” How self-assured The Griffin was in his valor and heroism. It made what I was to reveal all the more sweeter. 

“While aiding foreign governments to reverse engineer your products for weapons of war. And how does a man who values life, allow his company to produce drugs utilized in executions in the United States?” I barked these words with the very knowledge of the poison they would inject into my adversary turned victim. 

“You don’t know what you are talking about? How would you know anything about that.” The Griffin tried to angle himself on a wall. Blood stained the luxury floor while tethers of his suit were caught in the streaks of red liquid. 

“Two crows were talking, and what they said was truly amazing.” My words dripped out showing my jagged bottom teeth. “Just think of my last hunt as your reckoning.”

“You're more arrogant than I am.” The Griffin began to reach for his helmet, fingers within inches of the end of the headwear. I swiftly moved, kicking it away. The mystical forces powering me were pushing my urges to primal capacity. 

“Self-assured Jeremiah” I was now in the blatantly visible range of my adversary. The moon emitting its light directly through the window on the ceiling. “Something you lack and for good reason”

“Had to save the pleasantries for later I see.” A snide remark as vines begin to encapsulate The Griffin’s  lower body. His mansion in all of its grandeur followed suit. 

“No I don’t play with my food,” The vines began to wrap around the chandelier chains above, crinkling each link and making the centerpiece more crooked each second. 

In that instance the window ceiling shattered, glass lacing all around us. My Phoenix eagle, I raised from birth, hovered right above the mansion. By the time I walked to the battered “hero,” the vines fully entangled him. Slicing the end of the vine line I hauled him onto my shoulders, scaling the walls of his habitat. My pelt flowed behind me as I took my place atop the flaming bird. I clawed the night sky as jubilance emitted on my visage. Within an instant, I was in my realm. 

My moment of glee was short, time moves differently here in my habitat. A set of different biomes is attached, with the symphonic sounds of nature. Species of different kinds all exist in harmony despite naturally existing within different parts of the globe. This was my masterpiece as I looked out from atop my treehouse. My members of the village carry The Griffin away. His silence on the way bored me. My people waited for this moment, they too know the toll a man such as this has done to the outside world. 

All of the members of this village have known creatures like Jeremiah, it matters little to the industry. And through my subtle help, have abandoned the world they knew. And fully frolicked in the one I have formed instead. One of my consorts appears to remind me of interesting information. 

“Baron, it’s eight AM in the other world. It’s almost time for your message.” She said, adorned with her pelt, a skinned lioness fitting her demeanor. 

“Thank you my dear, I must make my way back.” I walked towards her, caressing her cheek down to her chin. A smile of adoration began to radiate. 

I looked deep within for a set of clothes to match my alter ego, Alistair Warfield. The exact individual used to lure Jeremiah. A suit of black with slight straps of gold, was sure to perfectly symbolize the weight of this moment. My natural state would overwhelm civilized humanity. For the moment I put aside my tiger skin pelt. Let go of my necklaces engraved with animal parts. I hid my large physique laced with scars behind a suit. To the other world, I wasn’t a hunter. I was an owner of several safaris, zoos, and hunting lodges worldwide. I walked deep into the forest to find the Dimensional Reindeer clad with its blue fur to take me to my destination. It read my mind and heard my heart's desire for the location I wanted to be in the midst of. And within moments I was there. An interview stage with a morning show network. I was prepared. 

The backstage staff showed visual signs of relief at my appearance. I suppose I miscalculated the time it took for me to arrive. They made sure I looked my best, and desperately tried to change my attire, to no avail. And I was ready to go. 

“You ready for the show Mister Warfield?” The set manager said while the crowd laughed with the cohosts in the background. Her voice reminded me of the songbirds whose seraphim morning calls adorn the forest. Perhaps an additional consort who will succumb to my charm. 

“With the way your team treats me, I’d be prepared to take on a griffin.” My smile made her feel the need to replicate it. 

“Oh Mister Warfield, you're so good with words.” The set manager began to utterly melt in my presence if only I wasn’t so focused on the task at hand. “You're set to go.”

I winked at her and made my entrance striding across the stage, like a cheetah over the Serengeti. I shook hands firmly with each co-host and gestured to the crowd. I had to taper my excitement so that I could appear as though I was shaken up by the news I had to deliver. 

“It’s such an honor to have you hear Mr. Warfield,” the first co-host, a man adorned in a suit three sizes too small, uttered. 

“I’m glad to be here,” I stated.

“Well, you don’t seem too happy and upbeat. Is it because you are not a morning person?” The crowd in cue laughed and hollered at the female co-hosts' statements. 

“No, it’s not that, I’ve just been thinking about what happened last night. I mean you all have seen the news.” I started, capturing the allure of an intrigued audience. 

“Yes we have, we want to send our thoughts and prayers to Jeremiah Siziba.” A roar of applause came after the male co-host's statement as I stayed steadfast in watching his movements. Calculating when was the right moment, to drop my knowledge. 

“Well yes of course,” I started pausing and intentionally looked pensive. “It’s just so tragic and I have so many questions. You guys know that Jeremiah Siziba and I are good friends.” My statements triggered a response from the crowd as my tone of sympathy forced a collective sound of sadness to be uttered by the masses. 

“What questions would you want answered,” asked the female co-host.” 

“I really shouldn’t be saying this,” I stated.

No please,” The male co-host goaded. He smelled the ratings and views coming from my statement. He just couldn’t resist no matter what craziness emitted from my voice. 

“Jeremiah and myself had a conversation.” I started slow, allowing room for a buildup. “He told me about how he signed a contract and had done a deal with foreign governments and that used his research to make bioweapons.” The crowd began to squeal in amazement and terror. It became silent after a moment. 

“Wait, hold on,” the female co-host started. I couldn’t let her question me further. 

“I don’t know how much he knew, but he felt guilty. Especially given the fact his company experimented on young children in developing countries in the past.” A gasp of terror emitted from the audience. I watched as their hero was eroding in front of their eyes. And the fog disappeared to reveal a money-hungry capitalist not worthy of trust. 

“Do you have any evidence to back this up/” The male co-host's arms folded almost as if disappointment lay not in the accusations, but in the fact he was unsure how to prove his show's legitimacy? “That's a very bold statement to make, both of em.” 

“Unfortunately I do, I met a lady named Margaret outside of the studio who has been trying to get in touch with news agencies. That’s why if anyone was wondering I was a tad bit tardy.” The co-hosts looked dazed by my admission, as I nodded and waved my hand in the direction of the side of the stage. 

The consort I had left this morning came forward into the spotlight with tattered rags on. Bags had laced under eyes like an owl, without any queue or call, she raised the side of her shirt to show a scar. The mark of a scalpel on her side.

“They took pieces of me,” she shrieked rattling the bones in all in the studio. A blade of grass could be lightly released from a headlight and it still would be louder than the room in that moment. 

“Well audience I believe we are out of time this morning, we want to wish you a great morning and we will see you tomorrow.” The male co-host said trying to salvage the sanity. His female colleague's face stared blankly into the crowd. As the showgoers erupted in gasps, and conversation amongst themselves. The two of us rushed out, ignoring the pleas  by individuals to stay. Cameras flashed, as we made our way to a secluded part. As she held the shedding of the Dimensional Bucks antler we made our way back to my habitat. The damage had been done. 

Upon our return, a walk through the village showed something had occurred. The faces of the villagers were downcast not wanting to meet our eyes with theirs. I finally found an individual who didn’t try to escape us. 

“Tell me, family, what has happened here,” I said holding him in place. 

“Sire, The Griffin-” he started. I shook him to let him know to continue. “He escaped.” 

All the villagers gathered around afraid of my wrath, that perhaps I would do a devious deed to punish them for their incompetence. Instead a offered a laugh, a devilish exhale of joy. A noise that may have petrified them even more. 

“My child, you have done nothing wrong,” As I patted him on the shoulder, he winced in pain and fear. 

I dreamed of a challenge such as this. I was filled to the brim with adrenaline and excitement. I was ready, prepared, and motivated. I only had four words to say. 

“Let the hunt begin.”