Abel couldn't sleep. He kept picturing Father Lucas walking down the road, privately conversing with God. He imagined God telling Lucas to punish Abel for his sins, and then Lucas would drag Abel kicking and screaming to his temple and sacrifice him on an altar. He imagined his father nodding grimly at Lucas’ decision, completely believing that the priest was God's mouthpiece on Earth. What if Lucas was faking everything? It was no secret that he was very rich. He wore the finest clothes and had the largest house in Barcelona. He did no real work, instead claiming that he spent hours praying and reading the Bible, which …show more content…
Anger surged through his arms and chest and he moved towards the hunter in the brush, swinging his Holy Water Sprinkler with all his strength. He pulped the man's head. The hunter fell awkwardly, clutching his ruined skull while his body gyrated. Wasting no time, Abel took the soon-to-be-dead man's bow and notched an arrow. The other two hunters still stood in the clearing, unsure of what to do -amateurs. Abel let an arrow loose, taking the smaller man in the throat. The man dropped like he had been struck by a lightning bolt. Realization showed in the eyes of the final hunter, the one with the axe, before he loped off into the darkness. Abel said a quick prayer before offering pursuit, “Lord, grant me speed and strength.” He dropped the bow and followed the coward Leaves and branches snapped Abel’s face as he ran. His prey was fast; no doubt fearing for his life lent him speed. Abel felt the hard jungle mud underfoot slowly change to loose gravel and he knew they were entering the foothills of the Rhodope Mountains. He had been running hard for twenty minutes and his breath came in urgent gasps of the humid air. He considered letting the man escape, but a sudden high-pitched roar piqued his curiosity. He continued sprinting. After another two minutes, he burst out of the trees onto a hill-covered plain that led to the mountains. The rolling green hills and breathtaking mountains were a welcoming sight, but the man he chased was a different sight altogether. He had tripped and fallen into a muddy depression -an unsightly blemish on the beautiful countryside. He had twisted his ankle or perhaps even fractured a bone. That injury was the least of his problems. He held his maimed leg with one hand and swung his axe with the other, aiming for the three Eurasian Lynxes that darted at his splayed limbs, and then leaped out