by C.A. Fulwell

When Keoki lost the client in the jungle mist, he feared for his reputation, his business. That was hours ago, in daylight.

Dog-tired, he hunted for the clumsy, rich, white woman playing Lara Croft, with perfect teeth and $300 nails.

Piercing cackles from the dark triggered goosebumps on his arms. Laughing gulls—noisy fuckers.

The air grew cold. More gulls. Then whispers. Keoki froze.

A hiss. The arrow struck his calf; as Keoki buckled, breathless, the archer emerged, naked, bloodied. Cruel laughter from the trees: not gulls. More crimson nightmares appeared.

The archer drew her bow, smiling with perfect teeth.

C.A. Fulwell

C.A. Fulwell is an author from Oxfordshire, England, where he lives with his wife and two young children. His work has been accepted for publication at 101 Words. When not writing, he can often be found snacking, or thinking about writing.

Instagram: @caf.writer