The Hunter

He was like a lion on the plains of Africa, stalking his prey. Watching with huge eyes, every movement methodical and practised thousands of times before. Even his facial tics had been ironed out to hide his origin. He watched. His breathing totally under control. He watched. He listened, he could hear the heartbeat of his victim to be. He heard everything; the opening and closing of the heart valves, the rushing of blood in and out of the muscle as it pumped. He could feel the lungs open and close. This was his time, his moment, his lifes work. He was the supreme being. And it was time for him to take his prize and make real all those thoughts and fantasies. He watched. It had arrived, the perfect moment. He reached forward and in one, clinical movement from left to right had opened up his prey. She never even saw the glint of metal as he put it back from where it had come. The cold night heightened his sense of satisfaction as he walked away without even a glance back at his work. That would be there for all to see in the morning news.

The Hunter

Chatan

Camberley, United Kingdom

desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait

10% off

for joining the Redbubble mailing list

Receive exclusive deals and awesome artist news and content right to your inbox. Free for your convenience.