"Hey, Mat! Don't miss out on your uncle Kavin's big moment on The Hunt," called out a vivacious middle-aged woman with brown hair, her voice a blend of excitement and impatience. The room was filled with boxes, reminding her of the move into her new house, which her brother had arranged. She lounged on the sofa, eyes glued to the television screen that lit up the dim room with majestic lights.
"Welcome to The Hunt!" boomed the host's voice, a man whose presence was as commanding as it was charismatic, capturing the attention of viewers far and wide. "Today, we are excited to delve into the incredible journey of one of our monthly winners, Mr. Kavin Rhyder, here in our Brooklyn studio."
Facing him, there sat a young man of the mature age of thirty—his style effortlessly blending the latest trends with a touch of timeless charm.
"It's a pleasure to have you, Mr. Rhyder," said the host, his short brown hair impeccably styled, contrasting with the young man's more relaxed demeanor.
"We've heard about your phenomenal achievement in the latest hunt," the host continued, leaning in with genuine interest. "Do share with us, how did you manage such a feat?"
Kavin offered a nervous smile, modesty coloring his tone. "Well, I wouldn't say I did anything out of the ordinary," he demurred.
"Oh, Mr. Rhyder! Can I call you Kavin? You're far too modest! We're all aware of your incredible performance. Please, indulge us with your tale," the host pressed, his enthusiasm undiminished.
"Alright, I suppose I can share," Kavin conceded, his initial hesitation giving way to a spark of eagerness. "It all started last month. My brother and I decided to stock up on some Costco snacks," he began, only to be interrupted by the host's animated response.
"Costco snacks, now that's intriguing! Do go on, tell us more," the host urged, his eyes sparkling with curiosity, setting the stage for a story that promised to be anything but ordinary.
Kavin took a deep breath, his eyes glinting with a mixture of defiance and excitement as he recounted the tale.
So there I was, in the middle of Costco, surrounded by my favorite snacks. You see, my brother and I, we've chosen a path unbothered by the responsibilities of parenting, and with no spouses to negotiate our diets with, we've embraced a life of simple pleasures and environmental consciousness. Our home was a testament to our happy lifestyle, brimming with all the delights that Costco could offer. Life was good, uncomplicated, and satisfying. That is, until the day my eyes landed on the HoLoLED TV, the latest marvel in technology that had just hit the market. It was love at first sight.
I knew in that instant, I had to have it. Without a second thought, I placed the order. My brother's reaction was less than enthusiastic. He was livid, to put it mildly.
"Why would you do something like that? You know your balance can't support such extravagance! I understand it's cutting-edge technology, but this is sheer folly, Kavin!" He was all but ready to deliver a lecture on green balance responsibility.
But I've never been one to take lectures lightly, from anyone. "Just wait and see," I retorted, my mind already envisioning the wonders a new TV would bring into our home.
The day of delivery was a milestone in my life. With its sleek design and futuristic capabilities, the TV was installed in our modest yet opulent 100-square-foot Brooklyn apartment, instantly transforming the space. The moment I powered it on, The Hunt blazing to life in unparalleled depth, clarity, and vibrant colors, I was moved to tears. The visual feast before my eyes transcended anything I had ever experienced. The old SoLED TV paled in comparison to this technological masterpiece. It was a revelation, a transformation of my very conception of digital entertainment.
Then, my brother walked in. The moment was ripe with anticipation, a silent testament to the choices that led to this juncture. The room, bathed in the ethereal glow of the HoLoLED display, awaited his verdict.
"Kavin!", my brother's voice broke through the air, charged with emotion, as tears began to well up in his eyes. Confusion and concern washed over me as he moved closer.
"What's wrong, Gavin?" my voice laced with worry.
"Oh, Kavin, Kavin..." Gavin sank to his knees, his voice a mixture of awe and joy, tears streaming down his face, "It's beautiful, it's just so beautiful."
My gaze shifted back to the luminous display of the HoLoLED TV, and in that moment, I too was overcome with emotion. Side by side, we knelt, our tears mingling with the fibers of the carpet, a testament to the beauty we beheld together.
"Indeed, Kavin, indeed," I whispered, the experience binding us even closer as brothers.
The studio host, caught off guard by the revelation, couldn't hide his surprise. "Wait a minute!" he interjected, his curiosity piqued. "Are you saying your brother's name is Gavin? You're, like, Kavin and Gavin?"
Kavin, slightly amused by the host's reaction, confirmed with a nod.
"Umm, yes," he answered, his smile conveying both pride and a hint of amusement at the uniqueness of their situation. "Our parents had a fondness for these names, and so do we. Is there something wrong with that?"
The host, momentarily taken aback, quickly recovered, his professional demeanor resurfacing. "Oh, no. Nothing. I'm sorry, please continue," he said, gesturing for Kavin to continue his story.
Kavin cleared his throat, a small chuckle escaping him as he prepared to delve deeper into his story...
There we were, kneeling in awe before the radiant presentation of our new HoLoLED TV, a symbol of our shared joys and sudden financial recklessness. The warmth of our brotherly bond, fortified in the glow of our favorite shows, seemed to outshine everything else.
"Kavin," Gavin's voice broke through the reverie, laden with a newfound acceptance and love. "I forgive you, brother. This TV, this moment, is worth every point of the imbalance it brings. We'll deal with the fallout tomorrow. But for today, let's bask in the glory of our favorite stories, experiencing them anew."
"I love you, brother!" The words left my lips with ease, a testament to the depth of our relationship.
And so, we did just that, losing ourselves in the kaleidoscope of tales that unfolded on our magnificent TV, our laughter and tears mingling with the fantastical narratives until the first light of dawn.
The arrival of a peculiar green envelope abruptly halted our week-long escapade of indulgence in Costco delicacies and endless TV shows. The contents, a stern letter from our environmental bank, spelled out our grim reality. Our account had dipped into the negatives, and we were given a mere week to rectify our balance or face the loss of our cherished purchase.
"Gavin!" my voice was tinged with a mix of disbelief and urgency.
"Kavin!" Gavin's echoed response bore the weight of our shared predicament.
"What should we do, Gavin?" The threat of losing our magnificent TV has weighed on our recent joy.
"I don't know! But let's not let this dampen our spirits just yet. Let's watch the finale of The Hunt Season 36. We'll figure everything out afterward," Gavin proposed, his voice steady, a beacon of hope in our storm of worry.
And so, we settled in once more, allowing the suspense and excitement of The Hunt to envelop us, a temporary reprieve from our doom.
As the credits of the finale of The Hunt began to roll, marking the end of an epic journey and the beginning of our impending problems, Gavin hit the pause button. He stared intently at the frozen letters, his expression a rollercoaster of emotions—confusion gave way to joy, then fear, and back to confusion again, all within a matter of seconds.
"What's going on?" I couldn't help but voice my concern, seeing him lost in such an ocean of feelings.
"Look here," Gavin said, barely containing his excitement as he pointed towards the credits on the screen. "Look!"
I leaned in, squinting at some names and disclaimers, searching for whatever had sparked such a dramatic response in him. "What am I looking at?" I asked, genuinely puzzled.
"Our way out, our solution!" Gavin exclaimed, suddenly bursting into an impromptu dance around the room. His happiness was infectious, yet I was still in the dark about the cause of his jubilation.
The revelation came when I finally saw what he was pointing at—a small notice at the end of the credits, an invitation for viewers to become participants in The Hunt, to take on the challenge, and potentially win a prize that could solve our problems.
The next day, with a mix of excitement and desperation, we signed up for The Hunt.
The host leaned forward, his eyes alight with genuine excitement and curiosity, reflecting the rapt attention of viewers from all corners of the country.
"What a magnificent revelation! Amazing, truly amazing!" his voice was a mix of astonishment and admiration.
He paused for a moment, allowing the weight of Gavin and Kavin's daring decision to sink in among the audience.
"Our viewers are well acquainted with the spectacular turn of events that followed, but hearing it from your perspective, Mr. Rhyder, would be a privilege. I believe everyone, myself included, would deeply appreciate it if you could share your experiences with us."
The audience, already charged with anticipation, seemed to lean in closer, hanging on the promise of a story told not through the lens of an observer but from the heart of a participant.
"So here we are," Kavin whispered, a mix of awe and trepidation in his voice as he took in their surroundings, the reality of their situation settling in.
"Here we are indeed," Gavin echoed, his voice steady, a comforting presence in the midst of the unknown. "Could you imagine us? At The Hunt!" His eyes sparkled with excitement, a stark contrast to the nervous energy radiating from Kavin.
"I'm nervous," admitted Kavin, his gaze darting around.
Gavin looked at his younger brother, a smile playing on his lips, an unspoken promise of support and solidarity. "Don't worry, Kavin. They're just animals. Remember our hunting trips with father? It's no different." Seeking to distract his brother from the mounting anxiety, he asked, "Which weapon did you choose?"
Kavin paused, searching his memory, before a sense of resolve washed over him. "An old-good AR-556! Like our father had. And you?"
"Oh, good choice!" Gavin replied, his approval genuine. "I picked one of those Beretta shotguns. I hope to sneak up on the animal, look it in the eyes before I'm done." His words were filled with a quiet determination, a testament to his bravery and the respect he held for the hunt.
Kavin frowned, his admiration for his brother mixing with concern. "Oh brother, you've always been so brave."
Their exchange was suddenly interrupted by a loud voice emanating from one of the speakers. "Welcome to The Hunt!" it boomed, commanding the attention of all present. "The middle gate will open in 5 minutes. Behind the gate, you will find lockers with your names. Pick your uniform and be ready for weapon distribution."
Gavin scanned the crowd, noting the mix of excitement, anticipation, and anxiety on the faces of the other participants. "Brother, how many people are here? Did you count?"
Kavin replied, having taken a moment earlier to survey their competition. "I counted at least 23, well, 25, including us."
"Oh!" Gavin exclaimed, a hint of surprise in his tone. "I didn't know so many people are participating in the hunt. They don't show that many on TV."
"The gate is opening NOW," boomed the announcement, setting every pulse in the crowd racing. "The Central Park is now open for you, enjoy!"
The brothers' gaze was fixed on Central Park's middle entrance gate, hearts pounding in anticipation. This wasn't just any outing to the park. It was the threshold to The Hunt.
"Can you feel it?" Gavin's voice, barely more than a whisper, was heavy with anticipation.
"Oh yes," Kavin's reply was tinged with a blend of excitement and awe. "We're about to step into Central Park!"
As the speakers urged them forward, "Participants, please proceed inside and get equipment from your lockers," they moved, drawn by the adventure ahead.
At the locker area, they each picked up an orange vest and an octagonal token with a strip that goes around their necks, which was the symbol of their participation.
Kavin couldn't hide his wonder. "So, this is it. We're really here," he said, his voice a mix of disbelief and excitement as he donned the vest.
"Look around, brother," Gavin suggested, his eyes scanning the lush surroundings.
Kavin did, and what he saw took his breath away. The park was alive, vibrant with greenery, the trails like veins running through it, inviting them deeper into its heart. There were trees and bushes of kinds they had never seen before. Surrounded by purple and blue flowers, they felt as if they were standing in a candy shop from their childhood.
Their moment of awe was interrupted by another participant, a woman with a straightforward request. "Excuse me, I don't have a partner. Would one of you join me?"
Kavin started to respond, but Gavin was quicker. "Remember the training video? We're not supposed to engage with other hunters," he whispered sharply.
"Oh, right," Kavin muttered, a flush of embarrassment on his cheeks.
The woman's impatience turned to irritation. "Are you two deaf? I asked if one of you wants to hunt with me!" Her voice was sharp, slicing through the air.
But before the tension could escalate, two figures in purple uniforms appeared. They took the woman aside, her protests lost in the distance. It was a stark reminder of the rules of this game.
"See," Gavin said quietly, watching the scene. "We need to stick to the rules."
"We must follow the rules," Kavin echoed, the incident sharpening their focus.
As each hunter was outfitted in their orange vest, the atmosphere shifted, a collective breath held in anticipation. That was when more figures in purple made their entrance, each carrying a weapon with an air of solemnity. The murmur among the participants, a blend of excitement and unease, grew louder.
"Calm down, hunters!" boomed the voice of a nearby figure in purple, slicing through the murmur like a knife. "We're here to deliver your weapon of choice!" His announcement was a balm to the restless crowd, easing the tension that had knotted the air.
A woman in purple approached Kavin and Gavin, her demeanor professional yet not without a hint of camaraderie. "Here's the weapon you requested," she said to Kavin, presenting him with his rifle. "It's fully loaded and programmed with your DNA. No one but you will be able to shoot with it."
Kavin nodded, familiar with the protocol. The weapons, tailored to each participant and offering a single set of ammunition, underscored the seriousness of The Hunt. Kavin's choice of an AR-556, with its reliable 30-round magazine, was a strategic one, given the prohibition of automatic weapons in the competition.
"I still can't believe you chose a shotgun," Kavin expressed his concern to Gavin.
"Ha, don't fret, Kav," Gavin responded with a chuckle, the confidence in his choice unshaken. "Five rounds are more than enough for what I have in mind. It's not about the quantity, it's the power that counts!"
The brothers then turned their attention to their weapons, familiarizing themselves with the feel and balance. In a moment of mischief, Gavin aimed his shotgun at Kavin and playfully shouted, "Bam!" as he pretended to pull the trigger.
"What the flick!" Kavin jumped, a frown quickly taking over his features. "You scared me!"
"What?" Gavin's laughter filled the air. "They don't work in this area."
The voice from the speakers returned, clear and authoritative, yet carrying an undercurrent of genuine encouragement. "Hunters, you are now ready for the hunt. Around you, you'll find trails. Each one of you must take a trail. Those of you who picked a partner may choose the same trail. Those without a partner, please choose a trail not occupied by other hunters. You can pick any trail. They are all equal, giving no advantage. The Hunt is the place of equal opportunities. You can go now, and may the hunter's luck be with you!" The message resonated with the crowd, a reminder of the fairness and challenges that The Hunt prided itself on.
"Let's pick that one," Gavin said decisively, pointing towards one of the trails that seemed to call to them, a path winding into the unknown.
"Sure, I trust your instincts, brother," Kavin replied without hesitation, his faith in Gavin unwavering. Together, they made their way to the head of the trail, eager to claim it as their own before any other hunter could make the same decision.
"What should we do now?" Kavin asked, his voice a mix of excitement and uncertainty.
"I think we just go?" Gavin responded, his usual confidence tinged with a hint of concern. They shared a look, a silent communication honed over years of brotherhood, before casting a glance around them. All around, hunters were choosing their paths, disappearing into the embrace of the greenery, each embarking on their own journey.
"Kavin, let's go," Gavin said, a newfound determination in his voice. He led the way, stepping onto the trail with purpose. Their footsteps, initially hesitant, grew more assured as they ventured deeper, the sounds of the clearing fading behind them.
About ten minutes into their journey, a sudden loud beep from their weapons halted their advance, a synthetic voice announcing, "Your weapon is now active. Enjoy the hunt." The brothers exchanged a glance, a mix of excitement and apprehension in their eyes.
As our brothers ventured further into the heart of the trail, the cacophony of the city and the initial tension began to fade, replaced by the serene beauty of nature that surrounded them. Tall trees reached towards the sky, their leaves whispering secrets to the breeze that danced through the branches. The underbrush, a lush carpet of greens, rustled softly, a testament to the unseen life that thrived within. Every step they took was cushioned by the earth, the scent of moss and damp soil mingling in the air, creating a sense of tranquility that was both ancient and ever-new.
Kavin, his gaze sweeping over the scenery, broke the silence that had fallen between them. "I missed this." His voice was soft, tinged with a nostalgia for the untamed wilds and the freedom they represented.
Gavin, walking beside him, took a moment to truly see the forest around them—not just as the backdrop to their current challenge, but as a reminder of the world beyond the concrete and rush of city life. "Yeah, I love it. It's so nice and beautiful, just like our hikes with father. I missed it too," he responded, his words slow and thoughtful.
Their pace slowed unconsciously as they took in the sights and sounds of the forest, allowing themselves a brief respite from the competition. The light filtering through the canopy painted the forest floor in patches of gold, illuminating the intricate patterns of leaves and casting long shadows that danced with the movement of the branches above. For a moment, The Hunt was forgotten, replaced by a simpler, more profound connection to the natural world around them.
The tranquility of the forest was abruptly shattered by a loud crack from the bushes behind the brothers, sending a jolt of adrenaline through them.
"What was that?" Gavin exclaimed, his instincts kicking in as he swung his shotgun towards the source of the noise.
"I don't know," Kavin replied, his voice tense as he readied his rifle, poised for whatever might emerge.
The bushes rustled ominously before a figure staggered out, a young woman, her appearance disheveled and covered in dirt. Her hair was a tangled mess, and her clothes, simple and worn, clung to her like a second skin of grime. "Por favor, ayuda, ayuda, por favor," she pleaded in a language laced with desperation.
"Hey! Stay right there!" Gavin commanded, his shotgun aimed unflinchingly at her. "I said stand right there!"
"It's awful. They look even more disgusting in person than on TV," Kavin muttered, his face contorting in revulsion. "I think I'm going to be sick." He was visibly struggling to maintain his composure, the reality before him too stark, too raw.
The woman continued her plea, now in a more familiar language. "Help, please," her voice barely more than a whisper, her movements slow, one hand suspiciously hidden behind her back.
"Just shoot it!" Kavin urged, panic edging his voice as he saw her inch closer.
"I," Gavin's voice faltered, his shotgun wavering uncertainly in his grasp. "I can't do it. It speaks our language!"
"They're just filthy animals, shoot it!" Kavin's voice was a mix of fear and disgust.
"I don't think I'm ready. You shoot it!" Gavin shot back, the gravity of taking a life, even in this lawless game, weighing heavily on him.
"I don't think I can either," replied Kavin, almost whispering. "What should we do, brother?"
The question hung between them, a testament to their dilemma, their morality clashing with the brutal expectations of the hunt.
In that moment of hesitation, the woman lunged, her desperation turning to aggression as she revealed an old kitchen knife, previously hidden from view. She screamed, a raw sound of anguish and rage, as she thrust the weapon towards Gavin.
"Gavin! Look out!" Kavin's warning cry sliced through the tension. "A knife!"
Instinct took over, and Gavin, driven by a primal urge to protect himself, pulled the trigger. The shotgun roared with a loud "BAM!" A deafening blast that echoed through the trees, startling the wildlife into a frenzy of activity. Silence fell, a heavy, oppressive silence that enveloped the forest once more. Both the woman and Gavin were on the ground.
"Get her off me!" Gavin's yell cut through the sudden stillness that followed the confrontation.
Kavin, propelled by a mix of adrenaline and concern, rushed to his brother's side, attempting to shift the weight of the woman's body away. "Gavin, the smell is so bad!" he exclaimed, his face contorting as the stench overwhelmed him, leading him to gag and eventually vomit beside the trail. "I'm sorry," he managed, embarrassment mixed with nausea as he wiped his mouth with his shirt sleeve.
Together, they managed to move the woman off Gavin.
"I think it's a female, I think you... recycled her," Kavin said, his voice dropping to a whisper, a mix of disbelief and sorrow in his tone.
As Gavin tried to stand, pain shot through him, manifesting in a pained "Ohhhh" as he attempted to rise. "Uggghhh," he struggled, the effort etching lines of discomfort across his face.
"Gavin!" Kavin exclaimed, his eyes wide as he pointed to Gavin's abdomen. There, protruding from his belly, was the handle of a knife.
Gavin, realization dawning, sat back down heavily. "Oh, Kavin, this doesn't look good," he said, reaching for the knife in a mix of shock and instinct.
"Don't do that!" Kavin warned, his voice sharp with fear. "You could make it worse. We need help!"
"It hurts so badly," Gavin's voice broke, tears starting to form as the pain intensified.
Kavin, shaken to his core by the sight of his brother in agony, fought to maintain his composure. "I'll go and find some help, Gavin! Just don't move. I'll bring help!" he declared, a desperate promise in his voice.
With one last look at Gavin, sitting vulnerable on the ground, Kavin grabbed his rifle and started back up the trail, calling for help with every step. "Help! Help!" his voice echoed through the trees, a plea carried on the wind.
For a minute or two, he pushed himself, running despite the exhaustion and fear that threatened to overwhelm him. Then, suddenly, he stopped, gasping for air.
"Oh, I can't take this anymore," he lamented, collapsing to the ground in fatigue.
Reaching for his water bottle, he took a few desperate sips, trying to quell the panic and despair that clawed at his throat. Then, without warning, a sharp pain exploded in the back of his head. "Ughhhh," he gasped, the world tilting dangerously as he fell.
In those final moments before darkness claimed him, Kavin's eyes met those of a young man standing over him, the last image that imprinted itself on Kavin's consciousness before he succumbed to the void.
"Wake up!" The words seemed to drift from a distant world, echoing through Kavin's foggy consciousness.
"I said wake up!" A cold sensation splashed across Kavin's head, dragging him back to the harsh light of reality. Water?
"Are you there?" the voice prodded insistently.
Blinking, Kavin opened his eyes and found the same young man from before, now kneeling before him. An attempt to move revealed his hands and legs were bound, the realization sinking in with a jolt of panic. He was utterly at the mercy of his captor, who sat smugly atop his legs, rendering him immobile.
A sinister grin spread across the young man's face. "Oh, finally. I thought I had recycled you. That would've been such a disappointment."
"Who... who are you?" Kavin's voice was weak, raspy from fear.
"Shut up, you filthy animal! Don't open your mouth until I say so, or I will close it for you!" The captor's voice was sharp, commanding. "You're not recycled yet only because you're my first. I needed to look you in the eyes. It's personal, you see..." A hint of pride tinged his confession. "My father is the CEO of the Ortzo Corporation. All my life, he yelled at me, calling me a useless brat, a leech on his money. He said I couldn't do anything right. Well, he can't say that anymore, can he?"
His eyes shone with a disturbing blend of vindication and madness. "He always said this wasn't the way to save the environment. But I'm here to prove him wrong. I'm here to recycle my first one, and that's you. Look me in the eyes!"
Kavin, however, couldn't bring himself to meet the gaze of his captor. His focus was drawn to the trail behind the young man, where he thought he saw a figure crawling towards them. It looked like... Gavin? No, it must be a hallucination, a trick of his injured mind.
"Are you listening to me?! Hello! Look me in the eyes!" The captor continued his rant, visibly repulsed by Kavin's appearance and smell. "Your smell, I can't stand it! You're middle class, aren't you? Always complaining, never satisfied. My father says we need to reform society starting from the middle. That the only way to prosperity is from the middle-out. But he's wrong."
Kavin struggled to focus, the pain in his head throbbing with each heartbeat.
"What was it for you? A new car? A new house? You can open your mouth, animal!" The young man, almost losing his temper, demanded an answer.
"A house? Oh... No. Not a house. We need a new TV," Kavin managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper.
"A new TV?! Are you serious? Pathetic! My first one is here over a TV!" The captor's disdain was palpable. "And who are We? Are you having some personality disorder or what? Don't answer, I don't care. I will recycle you right now."
As the young man reached for his weapon, a shout pierced the tense air. "Get down, Kav!!!" It was Gavin, bloodied but determined, crawling on the ground with a shotgun aimed at their adversary.
Time seemed to stretch, each second elongated as Kavin forced his body towards the earth, heeding Gavin's command. The captor, caught off guard, turned towards Gavin, his expression a mix of surprise and fury as he scrambled for his rifle.
But Gavin was quicker. The forest echoed with the resounding "BAM!" of the shotgun.
Trembling from the ordeal and the rush of adrenaline, Kavin struggled to a sitting position, his limbs still ensnared by the ropes.
"I got him, Kavin! I got him!" The familiar voice, strained yet triumphant, came from nearby. It was Gavin, lying on the ground close to him, a stark contrast to the hallucination Kavin feared he'd seen.
"Oh, Gavin!" Kavin's relief was real, his voice breaking. "I thought you were just an illusion!"
"Not yet, brother, not yet..." Gavin's voice was weak, but the determination in his tone was unmistakable. Kavin's gaze fell on the long, crimson trail Gavin had left behind him.
"Let me help you," Gavin said, reaching for Kavin's bound hands. Within moments, Kavin's hands were free.
"How did you?" Kavin started, his eyes widening as he took in the sight of the blood-stained knife in Gavin's hand.
"Here, take it and help yourself," Gavin instructed, handing over the knife.
With the knife, Kavin quickly sawed through the ropes binding his legs. Once free, his first action was to reach for his brother, a mix of gratitude and concern washing over him. "Oh, Gavin, I told you not to pull the knife out."
"Yes, you did," Gavin acknowledged, his voice a whisper of its former strength. Then, with a clarity that cut through the heaviness of the moment, Gavin's demeanor shifted. He pressed something into Kavin's hand—a purple octagonal token. "Take it, it's from that female."
Then, turning his attention to the young man, now silenced on the ground, Gavin instructed, "And take one from him, it must be worth something."
Kavin, now able to stand, surveyed the young man's body. The attire was unmistakably expensive, the fabric and design far beyond what any ordinary participant of The Hunt would wear. Beside him lay what appeared to be an automatic rifle—a forbidden weapon that spoke volumes of the young man's connections and wealth. With a sense of disbelief, Kavin retrieved the participant's token from around the young man's neck, adding it to their collection.
Returning to Gavin's side, Kavin found his brother's condition deteriorating rapidly.
"We've made it, Kavin," Gavin murmured, pointing towards a purple mark on a tree. "The exit is there, but I don't think I'm going to make it."
The pool of blood beneath Gavin grew larger.
"I looked him in the eyes!" Gavin's words were filled with a mix of pride and grim revelation. "I saw fear! He was scared of me, Kavin, he was so scared...."
With those final words, Gavin took his last breath, his head coming to rest on the cold ground. Overwhelmed by grief and the brutal finality of the moment, Kavin burst into tears, mourning the loss of his brother, his protector, and his best friend.
After what seemed an eternity, Kavin stumbled upon the exit, the sight of the large gate a jarring reminder that he was about to re-enter the real world.
Two purple figures approached swiftly, their concern evident. "Are you alright, mister? Do you need any help?" they inquired, their voices a blend of professionalism and genuine worry.
Kavin, still reeling from the events that had unfolded, merely shook his head, too engulfed in grief to seek comfort in words. Silently, he reached into his pocket, extracting a purple token. The gasp from a woman in purple sliced through the heavy air. "Oh, you got one! Congratulations on successful recycling! Our environment is grateful to you, sir!"
"Whatever..." Kavin's response was a whisper, his mind elsewhere, haunted by loss and the surreal turn of events. "What should I do with it?"
"Let me help you," offered another person in purple, gesturing towards a golden booth that stood in stark contrast to the rustic charm of their surroundings. Its opulence seemed out of place, a reminder of the bizarre economy of The Hunt.
Following the instructions, Kavin approached the booth, inserting the first token into the scanner. The machine's response was immediate.
"Congratulations, recycler! Your green balance is -500 GC."
The number was a cold splash of reality. One token barely made a dent in the amount of green credit deducted for the TV.
With a heavy heart, he inserted the second token, expecting little. The machine flickered to white, then, after a suspenseful pause, flashed a new message.
"Congratulations, recycler! Your green balance is 9,500,000 GC."
Kavin stared, disbelief etching his features. Was is this? Some cruel joke? A malfunction, perhaps?
"Hey! I need help!" he called out, seeking validation for the absurdity before him.
The person in purple approached, skepticism giving way to shock as the numbers on the screen were revealed. "Mister, I don't understand, the machine is always right. There can be no mistake. Please, wait here! I need to talk to my manager."
When the purple individual returned, they were accompanied by a middle-aged woman in a bright blue suit, her expression one of concern and curiosity. "How are you, Mr. Rhyder. I'm Miss McKenna, the director manager of The Hunt, Middle Gates. What can I help you with?" Her tone was polite, her demeanor friendly, yet the gravity of the situation hung between them like a dense fog.
Kavin, still reeling from the shock of the numbers on the screen, gestured towards the golden machine's display.
Miss McKenna peered at the screen, her expression morphing into one of professional concern. "Let me just pull up my tablet and correct what I'm sure must be a mistake," she said, her tone reassuring. Extracting an EyePad from her side pouch, she tapped and swiped with practiced ease, her brow furrowing as she consulted the device.
After a brief moment, she looked up, perplexity written across her face. "I'm sorry, but according to our records, there were no errors in the calculation of your green credit balance, which accounts for the value of each token that you brought from the forest. As per protocol, we are not authorized to discuss events that occur outside of the purple zone until the new season is streamed. I apologize, but this matter is out of my control."
As if on cue, another purple assistant hurried over with an EyePhone, extending it towards her. "It's for you, Miss McKenna, the board." Her response — a sharp intake of breath — signaled the gravity of the situation, hinting at complexities far beyond the ordinary. Taking the phone, she stepped aside, her conversation a series of expressions ranging from concern to understanding and then to outright disbelief.
Kavin watched — a passive observer in a scenario spiraling beyond his grasp.
When she returned, her demeanor was resolute, the earlier confusion replaced with a firm acknowledgment of the situation's reality. "Alright, Mr. Rhyder, the matter has been resolved. There's no mistake. As you're well aware, our AI system is incapable of errors. Your balance is correct, and I congratulate you on your successful endeavor!"
With a swift turn, she signaled for one of her assistants. "Please escort Mr. Rhyder to the main exit," she instructed before departing, leaving a trail of unanswered questions.
The purple-clad assistant, now tasked with guiding Kavin, offered a look of mixed awe and envy. "Oh, mister, it's a great day for you. I'm jealous! You're so lucky... Please, this way," they said, leading Kavin towards the promised exit.
In the studio, a hush fell over the audience, tension filling the space as the host, his hand covering his mouth, absorbed the weight of Kavin's story. Kavin sat opposite him, his head bowed.
After a poignant silence, the host finally spoke, his voice breaking the tension. "Mr. Rhyder, who do you think it was, that man in the forest? Do you have any clues?" Kavin, jolted as if from a deep reverie, could only shake his head, the pain and surreal reality of his experience washing over him anew.
"So do we! This will remain one of The Hunt's enduring mysteries!" the host announced, rising to shake Kavin's hand in a show of solidarity and respect. "Thank you for sharing your journey with us, Mr. Rhyder."
Turning back to the audience and the camera that had captured every moment, the host's voice took on a buoyant tone. "This is The Hunt! Where the unexpected is the only expectation! Join us next month for another season, and remember, the task of saving our environment rests in our hands. Good night!"
Elsewhere, a grey-haired man stood up from his couch. His frustration was noticeable as he hurled a heavy glass filled with a golden liquid at the huge TV in front of him.
"This brat!" he seethed, his anger barely contained. He walked towards a large panoramic window with his hands clasped behind his back. He stared out at the vast expanse of the city below, a mosaic of buildings, vehicles, and distant, ant-like people, all overshadowed by a singular green expanse in the center.
Approached by a man in a sleek black suit, the question hung in the air. "You called me, sir. What can I do for you?"
Without diverting his gaze from the view, the grey-haired man spoke, his voice cold, his intentions clear. "I want you to throw everything we have at him. Let him squander all he's got. And when his balance hits negative, squeeze him, push him. Lure him back into the forest. I'll be waiting there to avenge my son's death."
How far might we journey down a path that leads to a society devoid of morality and compassion, where human life becomes nothing more than a statistic in the grand scheme of political machinations?
This story is based on true events, recounted from the perspective of a few Hitchhikers who witnessed The Hunt. Written in March 2024 by Ilya Tsaryuk.