Below is entirely fictional, and no people from this story is REAL. So, pls. Don't get the wrong idea.

The Prisoner

I panted briefly before running again. This was no time to be resting. They were near.

Hi, my name is George, and I'm an escapee of the famous Hell's prison. How did it get the name, u might wonder. The prisoners imprisoned inside are murderous, vicious and blood-thirsty people, who yearn to kill every single day. They are made to stay in tht hell hole, which has nothing much to offer. Low grade food, little water, and no bars. Everyone is juz locked up in a room. A big room where you can roam around. No light enters from outside. This is where the fun begins.

You see, even if your not a crazy, blood-thirsty animal, you'd turn into one soon inside. With not enough food and water to go around, you are forced to fight for your share. Not enough? Lets kill the guy opposite and get his food. This is the sort of mentality forced into our heads days after our imprisonment.

I'm not that dumb to stay in that hell-hole wif a group of psychokillers. I want to get out of here. Before that, what crime did I commit, you might be wondering. I killed a politician in England, maimed a guy who shoved me, and cut up my mother's head when she pissed me off so much. No wonder I'm inside that prison. But I'm perfectly fine.

Anyway. They are catching up. Those hunters. Oh, did I leave out something? When prisoners escape from Hell's prison, hunters are dispatched to wipe us out. Not a trace left of us. Not even a strand of hair from my corpse. Its that professional and scary.

Suddenly there was a bang. From behind. They've caught my trail already. "This fast?" I wondered to myself. This is serious. I may be killed any moment. I hid myself by pressing myself against a tree. I heard footsteps approaching.. Silent crisps of leaves were heard. He was nearing. At least one of them. Sweat trickled down my neck. Its do it or die time. This was it. The man walked next to me.. Slowly, I crept up from behind, grabbed his head, and instantly turned his head to the side in a very fast manner. I broke his neck. He collapsed onto the ground, lifeless. I picked up his gun and checked for ammo. Good. There still were a few packs on the guy's body. I picked them up. Its going to be a long and arduous journey ahead of me to regain my freedom.. Even if it means killing many people, I swear I will get it. Its hunt or be hunted. I'm going to kill those hunters faster than boiling lard.