Going out to hunt was really something that John didn't want to do, but seeing as he was running low on food, he really had no other option. So, with a heavy heart, he left his cabin, grabbed his bow, and headed out to maybe catch a deer, or better yet, a member of the regime.
The forest was dark and foreboding, with tall, dark trees that reached up into the shadows of the night. Everywhere he walked, the leaves crunched under his feet, making loud snapping noises that echoed around the empty (he hoped) fields and clusters of trees. It was devilishly cold out, and he pulled his coat tighter around him.
He stepped out into a very small clearing, no more than ten feet across. The moon cast it brilliant beams down on the misty grass, giving it an overall creepy feeling that John didn't like one bit. He stepped into the middle of it and looked around the dark hollow, peering in between the trees looking for any stray feet, paw, or hoof beat that would betray any potential lurkers.
Suddenly, a twig snapped somewhere to his right. Turning quickly, he squinted his eyes and believed that he saw some dark shadow moving in between the trees. He quickly grabbed his bow, loaded an arrow, and fired. It whistled in the air for a few moments before hitting its target with a sickening thwap. There was some kind of cry of anguish before whatever it was collapsed on the forest floor below.
John quickly ran over and rolled the black-cloaked figure onto its back. His arrow stuck straight out of the victim's stomach, and in the dim light he had trouble figuring out what exactly he had shot. It was too small to be either a member of the regime or one of the beasts, as those things were the size of bears or greater. He tugged at the head, and no mask came off, so it wasn't a member of the Masks. He didn't see any canisters of gas near the body, so it wasn't a Caretaker. Had he just shot another human?
But before he could answer that question, he saw a shadow fall over the moonbeam. He turned and saw, standing not five feet away...