Posted by PK on October 21, 2001 at 18:05:59:
Carol knew she was taking a risk by moving at all, but she was thirsty. She should be safe
enough, she had heard no sounds of pursuit. Her outfit was surprisingly comfortable, the
halter was supposed to help her run without her breasts interfering and it worked very well.
Not much protection, though. She didn't suppose that mattered, if Amanda caught her a
support bra wouldn't help her any more or less than a suit of armour. Maybe I should take it
off, she thought idly. Running won't help either if she's close enough to see me in this place.
It was hard to suppress the voice in the back of her mind that told her she might as well strip
off now and lie down, and it was an effort of will for her to remember where and when she'd
first felt that. It had started when Amanda visited her in the dressing room. Was that why she
had come? To defeat her before the battle had begun?
She remembered...
One advantage of her outfit in her current environment was that she only had to squat down
to pee. She wanted to recycle her water. She scooped water out of the brook with her hands,
careful not to compromise her field of vision as she drank. Once she'd had enough, she
released her bladder. If the urine fertilised the grass on the bank, fine. If it seeped into the
stream and Amanda drank it, so much the better. Petty revenge, but all she had. Standing up
and feeling much fresher, she sniffed the breeze. She knew what Amanda smelt like. And
that worked both ways, she suddenly realised. Was that why she had come? To get her
scent? Idiot, she told herself. Not to disable me. Amanda doesn't do psychological warfare,
she just came to get my scent. And to warn me. That was genuine.
Carol stood up carefully and looked around. Should have taken a water bottle, her mind
chattered. I'm a sitting duck. So what she said was...
She heard a squeal, broken off. Something had died fast and ugly. Stoat takes rabbit? She'd
heard that on a BBC documentary. Didn't sound quite like a rabbit. There was no rigorously
logical way to support her conviction that the Huntress herself was here. Her guts and the
fine hair on her limbs ignored the rationalisation.
Amanda doesn't do psychological warfare? That was a message. The notion grew on Carol,
assuming the nightmare dimensions of the fears of the justifiably paranoid. She got a grip on
herself and took a deep breath.
She told me, she thought. That was why she came. Last chance. This is not a drill, she
needed me to know that. So she can kill me with a clear conscience. And she will. I got the
last warning. She knows she can get me.
Terror flooded Carol. Her heart pounded and it was an effort to control her breathing. Panic
attack. NO point, she told herself, over and over, staring at the sky. This won't help.
Nothing will help.
Okay then...
She wanted to bite something, pick up a stick. Chop the heads off a few nettles. Some small
distance away...
It has to be admitted that Amanda wasn't giving this her best effort. She had a lamentable
tendency to lapse into indolence when insufficiently challenged. She chewed a blade of
grass, wondering whether stoat pelts could be used in haute couture while she toyed with
ideas of how she should cook Carol. Catching her would be easy, she was no Rachel or
Sajida. She smiled. It would have been nice to eat them....
How to do this? Well, if you can't get points for drama, how about style, presentation, taste?
It was uncouth to treat your prey with contempt, even if they weren't very good at it.
Concentrate on the positive. Carol was definitely tasty. Work on that. And above all, be
polite. Amanda grinned to herself. She smelled Carol, felt her fear, she had the link and she
knew where she was. And she had time to anticipate....an indulgence.
Smelled so good, she did. Feeling stripy, Amanda had been tempted to rip the tender young
woman's throat out and eat her raw on the floor of the dressing room. It doesn't take much for
me to take on an Aspect, she reproved herself. Maybe I'll set up a picnic table and wear a
hat.
Bugger, I wish....
Well, in lieu of a really good contest, a good meal. But it needs spice...