Hunted – Creative Writing

It was a cold, wet, December night and Macauley Taylor was casu altogethery strolling experience the long, dark, winding lane, on this style back from a tiring football game practice. He could feel his legs aching as he walked, having been crudely taken stunned towards the residuum. He just wanted to get home.Suddenly, three hands appeared out of nowhere, at the end of the road. Macauley recognised these three men. This is bad, he approximation to himself as he tentatively stepped nearer to them.Relief. He had successfully waded his way past the little huddle the men had make, with all his bones intact. both of a sudden, there was a shout of, Get him and Macauley had three large figures gunning him eat up. He could smell their foul putrid breath behind him. He could taste the hate in the words billowing from their mouths. He was run as fast as his tender feet would carry him.A store gradually came into view through the dank darkness. He ran towards it, making quick, unho ped changes in the direction he was going, hoping to shake one of his pursuers off.He did this successfully and, before long, had found an empty storage compartment and hid in there, hoping none of them had seen him.He heard the three of them walking around, shouting his name, telling him that if he came out now, it wouldnt be half as bad for him as it would be if they had to meet him. He was praying they wouldnt find him, as he quite liked his legs how they were. With all the bones NOT BROKEN.He could tell they were moving further absent from him, as their voices were getting more and more distant. He was wondering nearly maybe making an escape sooner, and risk getting caught, or later. He knew his mother would be getting extremely worried about him as he normally got home around an hour ago. He do his mind up. Get home.He move soundlessly to the door of the compartment and moved his head around the door. Luckily, no one was close and he was qualified to slide out and find hi s way back onto the country road.Hed made it. Safety. Thanking his lucky stars, Macauley made his way up the road.*BANG*A gunfire hit the night sky like the crack of a whip. Macauley sank down his knees, non in pain, in pure shock. He could feel breed pouring down his back as if someone had poured a scrap of water down the back of his top.His whole demeanor flashed before his eye like one of those old drive-in movies. He thought of the things he regretted things that were state, things that werentHe wished his mum were there, just so he could tell her how overmuch he loved her. Just once. He never showed her how much he meant to her. Swiftly, a bright, tunnel of light emerged in front of him. Standing at the entrance of the tunnel, was his Dad. The Dad who had died a year before. The Dad who Macauley had spent all(prenominal) night of the following six months crying for, begging him to come back, to not leave him. The Dad who was Macauleys hero in every walk of life was now h ere. Standing right in front of him. He said to him, Dont be scared, son, its all all right now. He carefully tiptoed towards him, then ran, then sprinted in the direction of his idol. He reached the end of the tunnel, and with it, came the end of his life on Earth.