Also, there isn't anything to worry about in this post (violence/gruesomeness-wise), which is why it's changed so dramatically from an 18 rating to and E. 
Anyways, thanks for reading!
Monster, part two
His home was hidden from most of the world, deep in the forest. No one knew about it, since no one knew about the man who lived in it. He was a nondescript human being with no real purpose in life other than to live it until death claimed him. No wife, no children, no other living companion. Just him, alone in the woods, where some murderer was now running rampant.
The deaths had started less than a month ago. Campers, vacationers, hikers, all had fallen prey to this unknown menace. Our hero had somehow survived, though. He owed the mystery to his years of expertise. He had discovered all the secrets of the woods; thus, he knew where the safest places to hide were. So far, he had gone undetected.
“But how much longer can it last?” he wondered.
Not answering his own question, he stopped before an especially thick growth of tangled, thorny bushes. He glanced around keenly, his eyes and ears alert. But there was nothing of the unusual, and he plunged through, not minding the scratches and stings he was getting. Once through the thick wall of thorns, he crawled swiftly through the little tunnel that was hidden cleverly underneath a large rock. His head came up from the other end, and he looked around the small, almost cave like, interior of his home. He had covered the open spots with wood, so that it gave it more of a cabin feel.
“I’ve had enough of this,” he announced as he heaved himself up. “Having to use the back door all the time.” He stomped over to the corner where his diminishing supply of bandages and first-aid equipment was stashed and began to clean a particularly nasty scrape he had received from a thorn that had been most unwilling to loosen its hooked point from his flesh.
As he swabbed his skin, he thought about the idea that had been growing in his mind for a while. He knew it had to be done, but he was loath to bring himself to a final decision. Once he said it, he would be obliged to keep the resolution. He was not the type to go back on his word.
Taking a deep breath, he glanced up at the ceiling of his home and announced, “Tomorrow, I go hunting.”
It was out there now, in the open. There was no rescinding the statement. He glanced at the walls, where many different racks of guns and knives were hanging.
“Tomorrow, I’m going to track that thing, whatever it is.”
After coming to the decision, it was as if a weight had lifted from his shoulders. Suddenly noticing that he was hungry, he chopped some meat up from the little ice-pantry and cooked it. He eagerly set to eating with the wolfish hunger of a man who had been working all day.
Afterwards, since there really wasn’t much else to do, he double-checked the fortifications around his cave; locks and bars were all in place, and he retired to his bed.
The image of the mangled corpse came back to him, and he frowned, trying to think of something more soothing. But the only other thing that would come to mind was the cave he had found, over a month ago. That horrific place, where he had discovered that maybe nightmares do come to life.
