Trixie's Game
It was a calm wind on the ocean on this night, but the inside of Rainsford's mind was anything but. 'Wow... A real live big game hunt! I can't wait.' He thought within his head. He was an Earth pony, naturally having a connection with all things living, but everypony needed to vent every once in a while. Rainsford did this by hunting. He usually didn't think much about it being an insult to life and the animals themselves, but when he did, he quickly scoffed at the idea and went on his way, hunting down pheasants and rabbits, along with many other types of game.
Tonight was different, for several reasons. One, he would be hunting in a rain forest, which was by far the most dangerous of all biomes. Two, he was hunting Jaguars, which were some of the most dangerous and aggressive predators in the world. Three, the moonlit sea looked strangely disturbing as he stood next to the railing of a yacht, and four, he did not know who the driver was. He could clearly tell who he himself was, a charming stallion with a tan body and black, frizzy mane. However, he did not know of the driver. Not even his name.
He had rented this boat to drop him off at a jungle-ridden island, from which he would hunt in the dense jungle terrain. Apparrently the rentee didn't trust Rainsford enough to drive himself, so a driver was hired as well. Rainsford cared not, mainly because of the anticipation of the next day. For tomorrow, he would hunt a Jaguar. His destination drew nearer as he saw a large, dark contour of a mountainous island, almost like a small plateau in the middle of the tropical ocean.
Rainsford felt a slight tugging at his back hooves, then the feeling grew to such a point that he suddenly toppled up and over the railing. He screamed in alarm and toppled into the warm sea below him. Through gasping and panic, he clamored his way to the surface of the salty water that was already now in his mouth. It was only then that he looked up back towards the boat and saw a black figure of a pony back up and walk into the cabin of the boat.
"No! Wait!" Rainsford cried out in desperation.
There was no answer. Rather, he heard the boat start back up and start to drive past him. He tried calling out for help again, but it was no use. The boat was already far from earshot and heading away from the island. 'The island!' Rainsford thought. Treading water, he oriented himself towards the dark outline and started to swim. It was his only hope, as he would be stranded if he didn't. Luckily, he was an Earth pony, giving him a advantage towards survival. However, that seemed to mean very little, as it looks like anypony would have a hard time living here with no supplies.
The shore of the island was coming near. He could hear it; the hissing of the sand against the water and rocks, the crashing of waves against jagged rocks and cliffs. Rainsford tried to scout out a good place to beach, but the light was against his advantage; the moon was falling, giving him no time to think. He would have to be ready for anything. His body went rigid in panic; it was the only thing he could do at this point. Bracing for impact in just the right time meant that seconds later he smashed against the jagged rocks of the jungle shore and tumbling about, bruising him several times until he faceplanted with great force straight into the unforgivingly scratchy sand below him.
Stammering to his hooves in a desperate attempt to regain his balance, he realized something: He was alive, and his temporary enemy; the sea, was vanquished! Rainsford staggered forwards into the adjacent jungle, and with great relief, passed out on the soft jungle floor then and there.
It was a long time before Rainsford awoke again. He could tell by how low the sun was that it was early evening, and if he were to make any chances of survival a reality, he would have to start now. He heaved himself off of the dirt and onto his feet, trying to recall his thoughts. "Who would do such a thing..." he said to himself. He really didn't have any true enemies, and as far as he was concerned, no stalkers as well. This made no sense...
Rainsford stepped further into the jungle in hopes for civilization. He heard of none when he planned this trip, but then again, this may not even be the island he was headed for. This one appeared to be unusually rocky... This could mean that there's a good chance of civilization at the top of the island! He started walking through the thick jungle to where a slope appeared, and headed upwards through the lush, green landscape. The darkness was getting to him, making him stumble into a few roots and stumps every once in a while. It was a bruising and exhausting hike to the top, but it appeared to be worth it; a clearing suddenly appeared in front of him once the terrain started to level. As he trudged his way through the rich, moist soil, he could see that there was a silhouette of a large house in front of him.
"Thank Celestia... Life! But why a mansion...?" Rainsford said to himself. He decided to see around inside for some help, so he made his way forward. Light was gone by now, so it was a complete stumble to get to the front door, and it was only then that he could make out more details of the house in front of him. It was a Victorian mansion, two story, with several windows, all of them closed and curtained.
The front door was grand, and had a small brass knocker on it. Rainsford lifted and dropped it, letting an echoing boom spread through the many corridors of the house. He waited several seconds, then a minute; still no answer. He raised and dropped the knocker again. Almost instantly after, the door burst open outwards, revealing a large orange stallion behind it, magically holding a loaded revolver, which was pointed directly at Rainsford. The sight startled Rainsford enough to speak to him. "Whoa, there! I'm just passing through! Well, not really. You see, I was jettisoned off of my boat and was forced to swim here in hope of shelter and food."
The intimidating stallion stated no reply. Rainsford tried again, emphasizing each word with his hooves. "Um, I am hungry. Can I stay here?" The only response he got this time was from a voice in the background, clearly female.
"At ease, Zaroff." The massive unicorn lowered his weapon and went into attention. The owner of the voice walked down the staircase leading into the entryway, revealing herself to be a blue unicorn mare with a wizard's hat on. "Ah! You must be Rainsford. Pleased to make your acquaintance. Come inside..." She raised a hoof to shake Rainsford's, who quickly declined. He stepped past Zaroff and into the entryway.
"I need no formal greeting, only answers! Who are you and how do you know my name?" Rainsford's voice grew angry.
"Calm down! Follow me and I shall explain." Rainsford reluctantly followed the mysterious blue mare through several hallways, all filled with stuffed heads from successful hunts long ago. Eventually they reached a living room, which contained several luxurious sofas and a fireplace. "Sit down." The mare said while sitting down on a loveseat next to the fireplace. Rainsford did the same, sitting down on a couch across from her.
"So why am I here? You obviously know..." Rainsford said.
"Always straight to the point, your type is... You're no fun. Did you know that?"
"If you aren't going to answer that, then how about I give you a little easier one to answer: Who are you?"
"A fine question. I am Trixie. And as you can tell from the hallways I just led you through, I am a well-accomplished hunter."
"So why am I here?"
"You like hunting, don't you?" Rainsford was starting to become annoyed by Trixie's responses.
"Yes..."
"What was the most dangerous hunt you went on?"
"Well, it would have been this one, if it weren't for this."
"That's just the thing. It still is. I have something I want you to take part in."
"And that would be?"
"A little game, if you may. You could call it a hunt if you wanted to. You see, hunting animals has become boring for me... And I think I have created a new sensation by having you here."
"This game though, what is it?"
"So impatient, your type is. I'm getting to that. Anyway, this sensation; a new type of danger, you could call it. For you see, I have found myself an equally matched opponent."
"And that would be?"
"You. This game. The whole reason you're here. You see, I have to import my game. I knew your boat driver, you know."
At this point, Rainsford knew Trixie was talking about him and leaned forward in his chair. "You sick, twisted-"
"Ah, wait. You don't even know the rules. I give you a half of a day to hide on this island, and then I try to find you. If you survive three nights like that, you win. If I find you within three days, well..." Trixie smirked at him. "Then I win."
"What is the meaning of this? Are you psychotic?"
"Perhaps." Trixie let out a small, sinister laugh. "As for the meaning, you will find out tomorrow."
Rainsford leapt out towards Trixie in rage and pinned her down in attempt to pummel her before he realized that Trixie was still smirking. He looked up to find that Zaroff was suddenly in the same room as them, holding his chrome revolver at Rainsford once again. He backed down into the couch once again.
"As I was saying, you shall find out tomorrow morning. As for both of us, we should probably eat and head to bed."
Rainsford was confused by this answer and didn't know what to make of it. 'Pampering me before trying to kill me?' he thought to himself.
Zaroff proved to be an excellent chef that night, whipping up a startlingly delicious steak for them in a rather short time. Rainsford was also very shocked when Trixie provided him with silk pajamas and a luxurious bed to use for the night, which proved to be very comfortable. Sure enough, he found himself in a deep sleep soon after.
Rainsford awoke to a rather obnoxious alarm clock, and was out of bed quickly after. The white marble room he was in echoed the voice of Tixie, who was standing in the doorway. "Alright, let's see if you can prove yourself. Your basic supplies are on the table, along with your breakfast. After you are finished, you have six precious hours of daylight to take advantage of before nightfall. Good bye." With that, Trixie walked out the doorway as Rainsford tried to understand what was going on. After getting over his morning weakness, he slumped out of bed and went downstairs to the kitchen in of the mansion. Her hospitality frightened him, and made him completely nervous.
Waiting for him on the dining room table was a high-protein meal of bacon and eggs, along with a hunting knife and outdoor clothes. Trixie must have known that Rainsford might have used the knife against her, because he didn't see her until later that day.
Rainsford quickly gobbled up the meal, put on his gear, and headed back through the winding hallways and out the front door. The outside air was warm and wet, almost like it was always on the verge of raining. He got hold of his breath and headed out through the flat grassland in the middle of the forest. When he neared the edge of the forest, Rainsford realized how different the forest looked in broad daylight: It was green, lush, and seemed forgiving.
He snapped himself out of it. There was a psychopath after him, and needed to find a good place to camp and fast. Rainsford raced down the oddly steep mountainside in search for a partially washed up tree to hide under, only to find himself trip on a stray vine on the way down. Although the rich soil was soft and forgiving, the impact at the end of his long tumble was not. A large, fallen log had found its way in front of him and Rainsford barreled into it with a sickening thud.
It was a good hour before Rainsford had the courage to get up again. His legs and neck ached from bruises, but his head had taken the most damage. It wasn't all bad, though; this gave Rainsford a good idea. Fallen logs... Vines... Perfect. He would have a trap for Trixie soon.
The trap he had set up was simple: A stray vine on the ground was tied to the middle of an upright log, while the middle of the vine was pinned to the ground by a rock. This was made on his part in hopes that an arrogant Trixie would follow him and trip on the vine, causing her to be struck by the falling log. It took Rainsford a total of about a half hour to complete, but he was knocked out by his fall earlier and lost track of time, so he had no idea of when to anticipate Trixie's arrival.
The wait from there was unbearable to Rainsford, who was lying uncomfortably in a bush next to his trap. A snap in the distance was heard; one that appeared to be of a twig. Rainsford knew that jaguars lived on this island as well, but he didn't think that a stealthy cat would make that mistake. It happened again; this time closer. He definitely thought it wasn't a cat this time, so he knew that this time it was Trixie. A figure came into view through the dense fog. It was a fairly small one, as far as Rainsford could tell. He ducked further into the bush after he saw the outline of a pony wearing a large hat; this time, it had to be Trixie.
Trixie advanced. Rainsford, lying as still and as quietly as possible, was almost sure that she could hear his heart beating like a jackhammer. She was already almost twenty feet from where Rainsford was, and his anticipation was killing him. Eighteen feet. Fifteen feet. Twelve feet. Nine feet. Trixie, who was sniffing the air with a determined look on her face, was literally inches away from the trap. Rainsford's heart was nearly pounding out of his chest. Trixie stopped.
'Come on...' Rainsford thought in his head. 'Just a little bit closer...'
Trixie moved forward. A light tugging of her hoof caused the vine to snap and whip around the rock, allowing the tree that it was originally attached to to fall. Trixie sensed danger immediately, jumping back to her safety. However, the trap had not been wasted, and found it's way directly into a shocked Trixie's shoulder, knocking her back. She staggered for several feet in shock before plopping down into the rich jungle dirt.
Rainsford could hardly believe his eyes and ears. Had he won? Trixie got back up, this time laughing.
"Well played, Rainsford. You won today. Although that trap may have shooed me off today, I'll be ready tomorrow..." Trixie said with an evil tone of voice before smirking and walking back up the mountain to the mansion.
Rainsford sat on the ground in pure confusion. He had nearly killed Trixie, and she was going back up to the mansion? This made less and less sense to Rainsford until he finally dropped the topic with himself and decided to just find a place for the night. It was still fairly early in the day, but Rainsford certainly didn't want to stay in the same place after what had just happened. And with that, he set off across the island to see what he could find.
It was a rather long hike to a place he did not know of, but it was well worth the walk itself when he remembered the reason he wanted to go here in the first place. The scenery was now much more enjoyable now that Trixie was gone, and Rainsford had a little fun to himself then, through the dense, green jungle.
Well, that is until he stumbled upon a swamp. He knew it might be dangerous, so he simply tried avoiding it. 'Simply' turned out to be 'strenuously' very quickly after he found that he could not move his hoof from the sand it was now in. Rather than simply pulling out, it only created enough suction to pull it in even further.
"Quicksand!" Rainsford exclaimed.
Quickly recalling some of the survival tactics that he had gained from his previous hunting trips before panicking, he slowly leveled out his body to a lying position, finding himself gently floating to the surface of the muck, where he could then shimmy his way out with an army crawl.
After several minutes of trudging through the messy sludge, he finally beached himself on the bank of sand beside him. He ignored the mess dripping down his body as he waddled closer to the jungle again. That gave Rainsford an idea... So he went into the jungle and started to dig.
When he was finished with his long period of cramped hooves and sore legs, he finally came up with a cylindrical pit about a meter in diameter and two meters in depth, all carved out of the clay-like soil he was in. Step one was done. The walls held together rather well, so Rainsford decided that he was finished and climbed out of his pit. He then gathered several sticks and his hunting knife, and found a way to whittle them to a fine point. Afterwards, he jammed them point-side up into the bottom of the pit. Part two was done.
Rainsford scavenged the forest floor further, this time to find flimsier twigs. He wove them together in a basket-like formation, placed it over the opening to the pit, then started coating it with leaves and soil. Part three was now done, which left Rainsford with the final part in his plan: Wait. He quickly covered up his tracks, then dove into a nearby bush.
He was rather tired by this point, and decided that it would be best to sleep it out and wait until tomorrow. And with that single choice, Rainsford fell into a deep sleep right in the bush.
Rainsford awoke in his bush to the sound of light trotting, which was slowly growing louder by the step. It was a very quick step, light too; this hinted to Rainsford that Trixie might not be alone this time. If it was her, that is. He had no time to check; whoever it was, it was picking up Rainsford's tracks effortlessly.
Closer. Closer it came to him; and, more importantly, his trap. The sound was fairly loud by now, giving Rainsford's heart rate enough time to climb to a number higher than he would have ever bothered to count.
The anticipation on Rainsford's part was absolutely unbearable, for he could not see things, but only hear. But what little he could hear brought thought of victory to him; the twigs holding the trap set gave way, dropping its victim down to the bottom of the pit, allowing the sharpened sticks to meet their mark. The shrill scream of pain echoed throughout the area, then stopped. Rainsford had to resist any urge to jump up and celebrate, for he did not yet know if the trap had claimed its proper victim. He knew it didn't when he heard the sound of sarcastic clopping of hooves, followed by another voice speaking up.
"Congratulations, Rainsford. Your makeshift tiger pit claimed one of my best hunting dogs."
Rainsford did his best to refrain from standing up and objecting in rage, but he knew that he only had a hunting knife and she could have a much more potent weapon, resulting in a foolish attack. He continued to hide, not making a move or sound. It was hard to do, especially because Trixie spent the next five minutes doing a light search of the area. Rainsford was lucky to not to be caught, and he was well aware of his luck when Trixie scanned right over the bush he was hiding in. The wait was nearly unbearable, but patience paid off, because soon after, Trixie was gone and Rainsford was safe. Well, just for the moment.
He clamored his way out of the confined grasp of the bushes to find that the day was not over with Trixie just yet. Scrawled out in the mud, just a few feet from where the trap was, were the words "I WILL RETURN". Rainsford pondered at this, mainly because he could have already guessed this.
He ventured further around the shore for a good shore in search of food, and by a stroke of luck, found a berry bush at the base of the mountain. He started eating the tart fruit off the plant and was about ready to stop before he saw another figure in the misty distance. Rainsford looked closer to find that there was actually two figures, one of which was much larger than the other. This hinted to him that this time, Trixie had brought her bodyguard, Zaroff.
This sent Rainsford into a state of panic, and so he started to run. He heard behind his trail an outraged voice say "AFTER HIM!!!"
Rainsford looked back after a few strides to find that it was just Zaroff chasing after him. That was some sort of good news for Rainsford, but not much. While he was looking back, a stray branch slapped him across the back of the head. He ignored the pain that came from it, mostly because it gave him an idea.
He faced forward again and continued to run, looking for more stray branches along the way while pulling out his hunting knife. Along the way, he found another small vine that he could use. He had to make a trap, and he had to make it fast.
Rainsford skidded to a stop when he spotted a nice, overhanging branch, and quickly strapped his knife to the loose end of it. He checked back to his chaser to find that he only had about a minute before he would be killed by Zaroff.
Rainsford quickly drew back the branch with the knife on it, fastened one end of a tripwire to it, and the other to a nearby tree, ready to swing out and stab whoever was careless enough to not notice it. Zaroff didn't seem to, and that was good news for Rainsford. He slowly backed out of the way of the trap, keeping his eyes on Zaroff the entire time.
Zaroff neared the trap, coming into full view to Rainsford. His appearance was far more intimidating when he was charging at you, Rainsford found.
Zaroff was seconds away from activating the trap. Rainsford's heart grew faster and faster with each step he took, leaving him with a jackhammer in his chest by the time Zaroff activated it.
It was a careless stumble on his part that had a lethal effect: The vine that he had stepped over snapped under the weight of his massive body, releasing the loose branch and the knife that was attached to soaring in a sideways arc, careening directly into Zaroff's face. The initial effect was shocking on Rainsford's part, for he had never killed another pony before. It was also shocking for the last few milliseconds of Zaroff's life, for he did not expect such a skilled defensive trap.
The knife lodged itself directly in his skull, causing the agonizing sound of bone breaking and body failing to fill the area as Zaroff tumbled to the ground, dead before his landing. Blood was smeared all over his caved-in face, as well as the knife, branch, and now the dirt. It had started to form a small puddle of pure red that was now seeping into the ground.
Rainsford held down his stomach and dislodged the knife from Zaroff's mangled face, brutally letting him bleed as he ran back to the shore with the knife now back in his possesion. He was going to meet Trixie one last time.
Trixie stretched out her legs while lying down on her bed, ready for a long rest after killing Rainsford; she felt as though she deserved a hearty nap. She poured herself a small glass of wine and was about to go to bed before she heard hoofsteps down the hallway. She panicked and her heart rate spiked.
BOOM! The door leading into Trixie's bedroom splintered open in an explosion of wood, revealing Rainsford to be standing behind it, who had just given the door a potent buck. He turned around to confront Trixie, who had a dumbfounded look on her face.
"How did you...? This means that Zaroff is DEAD?!? IMPOSSIBLE!!!" She stammered.
"Possible. Zaroff was dead the second you left the scene. That's why he never returned here." Rainsford replied.
Trixie tried to calm herself and solve the situation. "Then, in that case, congratulations. You won the game."
"It was only two days." Rainsford flatly stated.
She had nothing left to say; nothing left to do. "Hold on a second." Trixie said as she walked over towards the bedroom closet. She came back moments later with two swords, and tossed one at Rainsford. "I challenge you to one final duel. The loser will be fashioned into a feast for my hunting dogs; the winner will rightfully claim this mansion as their own and sleep in my bed. Ready, Rainsford? On guard!"
Rainsford decided that Trixie's bed was the best he ever slept in.
