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I Hunt, Therefore I Am

I had always considered late evening walks during a plenilune to be soothing and romantic, but the very sight
of the full moon on that night tormented my every nerve and sinew, involuntarily raising my hackles and
cursing me with a brief but crippling tic douloureux.1

To make matters worse, the great, radiant orb seemed to possess a gravitational pull, as strange as
it appeared. It was, as my senses appreciated, something that I simply knew and accepted. These occasions
usually involved a quiet stroll around the castle’s grounds; its lawns, its gardens, its courtyards. This time,
however, the celestial sphere had called me into the woods, a place that I avoided after dark.

Within minutes of being surrounded by great pines, my mind was a blur. Monstrous trees swayed
in the violent wind, hurling dead leaves into the air. Swiping away the dark mist, I saw a beautiful demoiselle
underneath the moonlight, lying helplessly on the forest floor, crying and in pain. But what I saw next awoke
a deep fear in the pit of my stomach, testing my resolve. A hellish beast, a wolfish creature, emerged from
the shadows, striking her violently. The fiend, at least two metres tall with a wiry frame, towered over her
and continued his merciless assault. She screamed desperately for mercy, but it was in vain. The beast was
pitiless. Stepping closer to the nightmarish scene, I recognised the woman.

“Come back to me!” she yelled, pleading for her life.

1
Tic douloureux: “intense paroxysmal neuralgia along the trigeminal nerve” and “trigeminal neuralgia” (noun)
([Link]). Origins of word: French, 1798.

Carlos Javier © 2021

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No maiden should have to withstand such torment, I thought, and so I instinctively looked to end
the onslaught. But I was paralysed. I felt heavy, numb, and rooted to the ground. Whatever unspeakably vile
magic this monster had brought with it from the underworld had, I gathered, enchanted me, rendering me
motionless, speechless, helpless.

Worse still, what unfroze me from the terrifying ordeal was the shouting of my name in an agonising
scream. That was when I awoke in a cold sweat, feeling my racing heart. I looked around the room, expecting
to be terrorised by the lusus naturae2, but my eyes drifted to the calendar. October 29th. I ran my fingers
over dry claret streaks, from my upper abdomen to my aching collarbones. Wiping the specks away with my
own beads of sweat and bedside cloth, I discovered that the blood was someone else’s, with the exception
of the dry scar along my chin. My thoughts turned to Isabel, for whom I began to worry. But my exhaustion
had lingered and peaked again, and I let sleep take me.

On the night of October 30th, it happened again. The brute had returned, haunting my dream. My
rest. My nightmare. It was, one could say, a copy of the previous night’s terror. The creature asserted its
dominance over the damsel, despite her futile efforts. Again, I was useless, limited to a mere spectator of the
horror before me. Within seconds, her screams ended my incapacitated state and writhing.

I awoke, feeling like I had slept for days, and only took solace from my bedside calendar. October
31st. The same dry blood covered my shoulders and upper chest. Wiping it clean with my cold sweat, I found
no visible wounds underneath. I stared into space momentarily, confused. Angelic tones cascaded through
the hall from the kitchen. I thought of Isabel, my onyx-eyed flame. I longed for her comfort. With every
effort, I pulled myself out of bed and made my way to see her.

She sang to herself whilst preparing some tea, sipping to ensure she’d balanced my preferred
sweetness.

“I was making you a cup, sleepyhead,” she spoke, handing me the elixir. But I noticed her bandaged
forearms, her bruised cheekbone, and her heartbreaking smile.

“Who did this to you, my love?” I asked, overcome with seething rage. Her response, a gentle kiss,
was her way of telling me that she was all right.

It did not feel like things were all right. She urged me to wait by the fireplace, telling me that she’d
read to me, that she’d sing to me, that she’d soothe me. But the shooting nerve pain returned, clawing at my
tender, stinging face. I felt like I wanted to rip myself in two, and was soon lured by the full moon and call
of the wild.

Running in search of the forest, my senses grew tenfold. I felt hungry, visceral, free. I’d have become
one with this bestial urge had it not been for a familiar voice.

2
Lusus naturae: “A freak of nature” (noun) (Google Dictionary); “A freak, mutant, or monster” (noun) (Collins
Dictionary). Origins of word: Latin, 17th century.

Carlos Javier © 2021

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“Come back to me!” called a breathless girl from behind me. An uncanny aggression emerged within
like black, raging fire. Piercing neuropathic agony tortured my temples, sending me to the ground and
allowing the panting maiden to reach me. Enraged, I struck her down before she spoke a second time.

Possessed by a primal instinct, I went in for the kill, when the unimaginable occurred. For the first
time, an extraordinary surge of emotion brought me back from this damnable stupor. A transcendental,
pulsating warmth. Her probing, starlit gaze. My infernal affliction was the suffocating lock around my neck.
And she was the key. I was the nightmare. I was the tormentor. I was the beast. What kind of monster could
hurt his love, his angel, his universe, like this? I stumbled back, staring at my hands. The blood, the violence,
the pain. It was all me.

Ashamed and longing for redemption, I savoured the air for the scent of the ocean. Draining out her
shattering pleas for me to return, I gazed upon her sun-kissed beauty one last time, inhaling her citrus-
scented, raven-black hair as it rode the wind, before leaving her behind for another land, promising never to
return, never to hurt her again.

Carlos Javier © 2021

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Questions:

1. What is the narrative’s genre?

(a) Gothic

(b) Bildungsroman

(c) Horror

(d) Fantasy

(e) Science Fiction

2. Provide a summary about the narrative.

3. The text is written in a non-linear narrative structure. How is this evident in the text?

Carlos Javier © 2021

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4. What are the narrative’s themes? What are at least 3 of the text’s central messages3? The
following visual aid may help you brainstorm your response

Themes Central Messages

Theme 1:

Theme 2:

Theme 3:

Theme 4:

Theme 5:

3
Remember that a central message is sometimes referred to as a key idea or micro theme. The reader must
ask themselves the following question: What central messages do I believe the author is attempting to
convey in their text? A central message always relates to a theme.

Carlos Javier © 2021

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5. How many literary devices with corresponding examples can you identify in the text?

Carlos Javier © 2021