Chapter 5 Hatchet Novels & Stories

My eyes burn with sweat that beads along my brows, and the tears never seem to end. "You are tooting your horn at the wrong man, moy angel [my angel]" He growls as he tips his head back and removes his jacket and shirt. "There is still a 5km hike, where the fucking shovel is waiting for you to dig your own grave. But, as with all preparations, they never seem to go as planned." He begins to tear his shirt. I roll over onto my front and attempt to crawl to the nearest tree. It is challenging since my hands are bound, and the broken bark; branches make me whimper as it slices through the flesh on my knees.

I take one last look behind where I come from, glad that Ares is finally out of danger and step through the forced open tunnel by the mist. And I see it; within the eye of the storm stands the hut itself. The hut reminds me of the wicked witch's house from Hansel and Gretel…where the witch would trick little children with promises of sweet nothings only to capture them and then eat them for her meals. A part of me wonders if this legend, this myth, actually originated from the Sorceress. It doesn’t matter. What is most important right now is to keep Helios alive. I creep soundlessly to the porch and crouch at the door. The door is smouldering hot, as if it is burning from the inside. The bla

The chieftain observed the prisoners with satisfaction. Their fear. Their pain. Their confusion. All gifts. All offerings. He raised his arm. The jungle answered. “Kor’vata VORESH!” (Prepare the drums!) The hunters cheered in low, animalistic tones. The prisoners would walk the Path of Hunger. The gods would be pleased. Jenna The deeper they marched into the jungle, the darker it grew. The air felt thicker. The louder the forest breathed. Then— Boom. A drum. Far away. Rhythmic. Heavy. Growing stronger.

“Why would you do that? Why not keep them closer?” “Hector has a fear of mines. Since he got trapped in there as a pup. I figured I could pretend ignorance and if he searched my cabin, no one would find them. The bank book I kept closer in the rafters of the old woodshed. He wouldn’t look in there. Because everyone entered it.” She squirmed under the two men’s gaze. She thought she was in trouble.

Her mind was made up on Evan, she had washed her hands. Facing the fire, Hunter shouted Walutanga’s name. He had never been to the Chief’s house before but Walutanga had told him about the house and where his bedroom was. The fire was all over the place but Hunter stepped on it like nothing. He had a cloth on his face to prevent him from inhaling too much smoke. He knew he didn’t have much time and had to hurry before he passed out. He reached a door that seemed like Walutanga’s from what the boy had described to him before. He busted it open and was met with smoke. He heard a voice shouting for help. “Walutanga!” Hunter shouted.

Gray wolf Nick, Jenny's husband, is more than thirty meters away from the cave, full of injuries and covered in blood. Nick has just hunted for food and returned to hear the words "I come to save you" from William Jackson, only feeling something sharp stabbing into his mouth wound, causing him pain. Suddenly, Nick loses his strength, and his hand slips down. The small wild buffalo that he had just struggled to hunt for fresh meat falls onto the snow. The three eggs he stole from a large bird's nest also rolled out of his chest and onto the ground.

In the stories of resilience, they found a tapestry woven with threads of courage, perseverance, and the unwavering belief in the possibility of a brighter tomorrow. In Chapter 88, they encountered Sophie, a survivor of a life-altering accident that left her paralyzed from the waist down. Through Sophie's journey of adapting to her new reality, they witnessed her unwavering determination to redefine her life and become an advocate for accessibility and inclusion. Her spirit illuminated the path of countless others facing similar challenges, inspiring them to embrace their own strength and fight for a world where everyone has equal opportunities.

My mum and brother threw hell of a fit not wanting to relocate but for me, I was full of happiness to the brim . I'm a hunter or so I was told, it all began when I was 16, I went hiking with my family somehow I got lost in the woods I wandered around aimlessly until I met an injured lady, she had been poked, she was hurting a lot, she pleaded with me to help her pull it out, I was scared, worried but most of all I wanted to help her out I took hold of the edge and drove the stick in her, I killed her, I waited for an emotion , I wanted to be scared, to run, to call for help, to cry but nothing all I felt was content , I moved away from her body wandering further till I was found,

It was their saving grace. “Iz, look. Water!” The sisters found an extra burst of energy as they sprinted forward and rushed into the stream. The water was rushing away from the mountains but Kate planned to go toward the mountains, so she pulled Izzy in that direction, working against the current. They trudged slowly against the current, working hard to make progress before the hunters joined the fray. They both still had their packs filled with food and water to last the full 5 days. Only the front runners had the optimism and foresight to pack provisions. The rest of the prey had resigned themselves to a quick hunt, and thus a quick end.

“Used to move oil barrels out. You can crawl through it. It’ll take you far enough.” “What about you? What about Selena?” “They’re looking for people like us. I’ll hold them off. We don’t have time to argue.” “Please—” He cupped my face, kissed my forehead. “Go. Stay alive.” I hesitated only a second longer. Then I slid in. I crawled for what felt like forever—scrapes on my arms, knees raw, breathing in metal and ash. Then came the explosion. I looked back. The hatch caved in, smoke rising from the ruins.