followed its plan now. It came out of its cave, and stretched to get the blood flowing to its body to make it ready for what is about to happen. It set out toward the cabin of Mr. Thompson it didnít bother with the stealth now. It wanted to finish what it was here to do. One way or another, Mr. Thompson will be his today. As the dark being approached the area of the cabin itís ears started to pick up the sound of oars hitting the water with kurchunk and the sound of Mr. Thompson whistling to rhythm of the rowing. It was almost hypnotic, in other times it might have enjoyed this sound. However, it knows what it meant, it knew all too well what the whistling of Mr. Thompson really means. Its heart raced even more. It had to make sure, remember it in its memory, so there wonít be any doubt. It slowed down, when it approached the cabin area, it went into stealth again; hiding and watching. It watched as Mr. Thompson rowed up to his dock, its eyes focused in close as he unloaded two backpacks full of items. Mr. Thompson quickly took them into his cabin. Mr. Thompson afterwards returned for the rest; that was in his boat. Mr. Thompson then pulled two carcasses from the boat. It looked like Mr. Thompson started to dress them out. The body cavity was cut open, and inside it was hallowed. Mr. Thompson didnít waste any time. The dark being thought as it saw the bodies dropped onto the dock.

Mr. Thompson stopped a moment, there was that feeling of being watched again. He looked around from the dock area squinting his eyes to see if he could see any type of movement. He looked at every tree as though each one was a stranger to him. He stood there what seemed like hours, but it was only for a few minutes. He didnít see anything, or hear anything either. He just shrugged it off and went back to his morning hunt. With this amount of meat, and with what he had stored in his pantry, he should have enough food to last the winter and then some. He thought, as he started to drag one of the carcasses towards the back to the cabin. Where he would butcher them into more manageable pieces. Then cold pack the meat, some he will smoke; others he would make into jerky. He was glad that his dad showed him how to butcher meat and prepare it properly for storage. Mr. Thompsonís mouth started to water as he thought of the meat, his stomach started to growl. Maybe he will have some of the jerky he made earlier, that would satisfy his craving for now. He brought the first kill to the back and strung it up in a butchering rig. The rig looked like a large hanger with hooks at the farthest point. The rig was connected to a block and tackle; so it would be easy to bring the body up to work on it at a more manageable height. The hooks were to keep the legs apart for worry-free skinning. After the first body was in the rig and hosted up to proper height and secured. Mr. Thompson started to head back towards the front of his cabin. Before he knew it; a dark creature that had been watching was standing in front of him. It didnít say a word. It just stared