Another of many giant raindrops falling from overhead branches went down the back of my raincoat. Like a cruise missile skimming the treetops, the icy raindrop grazed the fine hair on the back of my neck. A shockwave of goosebumps erupted down my spine like the aftershock of a nuclear explosion. I couldn’t help but involuntarily shiver. The jerking motion drew painful attention to my pulsating crimson sock. Encouragingly the blood had started coagulating.
Shifting my weight ever so slightly, rattled the chains of the once hidden the bear trap and extruded semi-solid blood through the metal eyelets of my Converse All-stars, as if manufacturing miniature Crayola scarlet crayons.
The crunch of rusted metal against raw bone eerily mimicked the new sound of snapping twigs just out of sight.
Frequency and number of twigs breaking, steadily increased sounding much like popping corn.
Interestingly just as portrayed on nature shows, hunting wolverines were never considered stealthy or quiet.
Mistakenly, I thought they were supposed to be solitary animals and not hunt in packs.
Word count = 175
Written for Flash Fiction for aspiring writers.
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Peace to you. Raymond