This a pretty gory tale of hunting down the sweetest of game. Be warned.


Jin ran blindly on, ignoring the brambles that cut through her soft golden skin like clusters of tiny razors. He once flawless skin was a criss-cross of fine red lines and tiny trickles of blood. Her feet were torn and ragged, enough to leave a trail of bloody footprints behind her. The insides of her thighs were wet, wet with fright-piss. She staggered, her breath coming in rasping sobs, her sweat coated chest heaving as she struggled for air. She was spent, easy meat, and she knew it.

The week Jin had spent in the hunting preserve had been hellish. Though she had been given training on how to survive for a while, she had spent every hour one step ahead of death. She had seen several of her fellow women brought down, many still alive when the inevitable gutting began. Jin had survived on fast reflexes and simple dumb luck. Once an arrow meant for her heart had been deflected at the last second by a branch, another time an arrow had passed so close to her belly she felt the wind of its passing and the feel of its tail feathers across her navel.

She was near the breaking point this morning. She was still strong, for the dammed cannibals made sure their prey were well-fed and sleek for the slaughter. It was her spirit that was drained. Too much death, too much fear.

She crouched behind a mass of bushes with a companion; a tall slender blonde she had bumped into the night before while both fled another murderous woman-hunter. The blonde was gorgeous, a magnificent Nordic beauty. Jin glanced at her, a bit envious of her obvious strength. She wondered if the blonde would live longer then she, or whether those golden tresses and pale skin would bring some hunter down on her like an eagle swooping down on a gaudy but defenseless bird. In the end it made little difference, they were all going to die, murdered for their meat, their bodies fucked and gutted and cooked, then sliced and chopped to pieces on some banquet table.

There was a sound, a whistle like a bird swooping overhead. Then a wet thud.

The blonde stood up abruptly, like she had been jolted with an electric shock. She stood, her hazel eyes wide open, her mouth agape. She looked own at Jin, as if to say something, perhaps goodbye, as a drop on blood dripped from her lips. Then she coughed, a scarlet jet that splashed over her breasts and Jin’s upraised face. The blonde sank to her knees and bent over, revealing the long black arrow buried in her back.

Jin rose, screaming. The blonde crashed at her feet, the arrow twitched as its victim began to drown on punctured lungs. The blonde gagged and spat blood, then grabbed Jin’s ankles. Jin knew the dying girl was simply pleading for comfort, for the touch of another human being as she died. Jin would have done the same if the arrow had been in her guts.

Except that there was nor mercy left in Jin’s soul. A week of being a hunted animal had driven out all tender feeling, all emotions but the ancient will to survive another day. Jin knew another second of hesitation and she would be wearing and arrow shaft, giving some lucky hunter an easy double kill to tell his friends about.

Jin kicked the blonde’s hand away, turned and ran. As she fled, an arrow whisked by her collarbone, ploughing through the space where her breast had been just a second ago. Jin leaped back, her eyes so big and round they looked like they were ready to fall from her head. She looked up as a man walked out of the tree line, casually knocking another arrow. Jin turned and ran, utter bladder-loosing terror giving her speed. She was gone into the foliage like a golden dream, leaving the man to smile ruefully. He certainly had wanted to bag them both, the leggy blonde and the mouth-watering Asian. He looked down to where the blonde lay bleeding, her eyes staring up at him in horrified fascination. With a smile he set his bow down and drew his hunting knife. The blonde whimpered but did not move, knowing it was futile. She lay back and spread her legs, hoping he would use the last moments of her life fucking her rather than skinning her alive. She got only part of her wish.

Jin ran on in mindless flight, ignoring the pain-wracked screaming behind her. She ran till her lungs burnt, and her legs felt like heavy pain-filled slabs of inert flesh. She grew careless in her exhaustion, and found herself running along the edge of a line of trees, her bloody-amber skin in stark contrast to the foliage behind.

Something moved in front of her. A figure stood up. A bloody figure.

The figure was a woman. But not a naked meat-woman. This one was a huntress, a female cannibal, and Jin knew she was as good as dead and cooked already.

It was a terrible fact that not all lovers of woman-meat were men. Hardly. Some of the most rabid and sadistic connesuiers of female flesh were women themselves. Many were lesbians, who hunted and ate women for the same reasons men did. Others were purely hetero, but stalked their fellow women for a variety of unholy reasons, from jealous destruction of potential rivals, for the pure love of inflicting pain on the gentler sex, or for no better reason than they loved the taste of fresh-killed girl meat.

In a way it didn’t matter. Did a deer care about the sex of the wolf who brought it down? Death was death, and for a meat animal it did not matter what manner of being devoured it.

But women were unique prey, gifted with the ability to wonder about who killed them. Many women didn’t care that they were murdered by a sister, that their flesh would be offered up at some lesbian orgy. Others did, for it increased the shame, the humiliation of what happened to them. To be killed by a man, someone who was stronger, a more natural killer, seemed almost….well natural. But to be snuffed by a fellow woman, someone who should be a sister, a fellow nurturer and creator of life…

Jin was one who definitely did not want to be the centerpiece at some lesbian cook-out. She backed away, limbs trembling from fatigue and fear.

The woman grinned at her, a toothy display of amused cruelty and hunger. Dressed in camouflage fatigues, her blonde hair stuffed under a nylon cap, heavy boots and a belt that bore a large curved knife and what were unmistakably a few scalps, she looked every inch the murderous huntress. Her feminine curves, the heavy breasts that strained her top, seemed dreadfully out of place on such a killer. Her fatigues were wet with blood, proof she had already killed at least one woman already.  She gave Jin a mock bow, then raised a heavy compound bow, arrow already in place.

Jin stood frozen. She knew she would never get away before the arrow hit her, not at this range. She waited for the arrow, but the lethal woman drew the moment out, letting her prey suffer in anticipation. She ran her tongue over her lips, mocking the terrified prey-girl, savoring the visible fear she inspired.

Suddenly, Jin lost her fear. You can only stay scared so long, and the woman’s mockery suddenly ignited a hot anger in her prey. Jin snarled and screamed a curse at her tormenter, then ran at her, her fists crunched into fists, her face a mask of hate.

The huntress had enough of the game. An enraged woman, one who has nothing left to lose, can do a lot of damage in her final struggles. The huntress had no intentions of spending her night in a hospital, victim of a frenzied long-pig’s final moments. She had better plans for dinnertime, and this furious but beautiful Oriental was going to provide the perfect meal. The huntress gave a slight bow, perhaps a measure of respect for prey that fought, then fired.

The arrow caught Jin in the belly, just below the ribs. To Jin it felt like she had been punched, and she staggered back, finding it difficult to breathe. Her diaphragm had been slit, and suddenly she could no longer work her lungs properly. She looked down at the arrow, bizarrely fascinated by it, fascinated by how it moved when she tried to breathe, how she could feel the steel head moving about inside her like a bundle of razors, how so slim and graceful a thing could so easily kill….

She dropped to her knees. She tugged at the arrow, felt it retreat. She tugged again, sensing the sharp tip leaving her guts, seeing her skin bulge around the wound. It hurt, but not too much, more like a dull shocked ache. Jun gathered her remaining strength, determined to free herself before her killer reached her. Perhaps if she pulled the arrow free and used it as a weapon, she could gain some measure of revenge on the woman who had killed her.

The arrow slithered free, trailing a length of gut like some greasy raw sausage. Blood gushed, and suddenly Jin hurt, hurt enough to fall to her side, her mind lost in the swirl of pain. She lost hold of the gory-caked arrow, and with it any last hope of inflicting some revenge. The arrow fell, it’s victim too shredded inside to fight, its job done. The Oriental girl rolled onto her back, her legs kicking a bit in oddly graceful spasms.

The woman stood above her, gloating over such a beautiful kill. Jin would make a fine trophy, and her flesh promised to be as sweet as honey.  But first, there was some fun to be had.

Jin stared up as the amazon squatted over her. Idly she wondered if her last sensations would be of lesbian rape, and whether she would enjoy the feel of a tongue on her dying clit. Then she saw the knife.

The gutting was painful, but Jin’s mind was already fading, so it seemed like a distant dream to her. She felt the knife, saw her blood spurt like a playful fountain, felt her skin and abdominal muscles part, felt the weight of her intestines leave her body, felt the cool air against the insides of her belly.

The woman took her time, careful not to foul Jin’s meats with any septic gut-juices. She had done that on her first kill and remembered having to spend a half-hour bathing the dead doe in a cold mountain stream before the dead meat could be sent to the kitchens. More careful these days, she methodically severed organ and greasy tubing with the precision of a surgeon. She sat on Jin’s crotch as she worked, grinding her crotch into the bloody girls mons as she eviscerated her.  The dying girl’s twitches and low moans excited her, and she wished she had brought her strap-on for some good-natured rape before her victim expired. There was always next time.

The huntress cut out the last of the guts, then felt around inside the empty torso to make sure she hadn’t missed anything. Finished, she felt hungry.  It was time for a snack.

Jin’s last sight was her fellow woman holding up a piece of her liver, biting into it, relishing its rich coppery flavor. She gagged, in agonized shame as she watched herself being eaten alive. Her eyesight grew dim as she watched the blood-soaked jaws work on chewing her flesh, the look of pure savage joy on her murderess’s face. Jin had never seen such evil euphoria on a human face, nor would she see again, for at that moment she died.

The huntress finished her snack and saw her victim had died. She pouted in disappointment, hoping to have played with her food a bit more. No matter, there were always more women, more soft sweet meat to kill and devour. She would hunt again, killing for the pure thrill of the deed.

The huntress smiled, knowing she was a greater killer of her fellow woman than any man could ever dream of being.

Women were not just meat. They could be killers too.