The billionaire's curse

Predators

He tried as much as he possibly can to avoid the thoughts of being angry at Nina, instead his begged in his head 'Not a Dyker not a Dyker' please let it be a horse, he was on the foot of the mountain and there is sure to be a leopard close by, with the crap luck he's been having lately, there most certainly will be one.

The pain as before excruciating, he dropped his bag and fell to his knees, clenching his fists and teeth equally as hard, but unlike before his size didn't increase, it decreased.

Worry, pain, the realisation that he was not becoming a horse was gnawing at him agonizingly, he closed his eyes begging it to be over soon, and praying he'll wake up alive, and not become the meal of the oh so majestic Cape leopard.

After what felt like forever he opened his eyes when the pain subsided, he realized there was control now, he saw everything, felt everything, Duane stood on his four hooves and rattled, quivering from the new feeling, he was in fact a Dyker, this made him look around instantly and instincts made his ears scan.

He kicked himself out of the clothes clinging to him and thought deeply, the quickest way back to the guesthouse was straight down the side of the mountain, so on he went, his ears still like radar dishes listening for any sign of a predator.

He came to the side of a dam, antelope or not he won't drink here, that witchdoctor told him to stay clear of water so he walked around it.
The water stirred and he saw something float, if it wasn't for the gleaming eyes he would have remained still but thanks to that he ran just in time as the crocodile launched at him.

He kept going to make distance and reached what seemed like a cement path there he felt a sigh of relief, hopefully leopards don't come close to human made things, and noe hes too far for the croc, that was damn frightening, but the rustle of brush made him run yet again.

He glanced back to see only the glimmering eyes flicking in the moonlight and his heart felt like it nearly stopped, he bolted, tugging at his short legs as hard as he could but his ears told him it wasn't fast enough, the leopard was gaining.

Ahead there was a camp, the distinct heads of horses peering over the white painted wood bars, he had to get in between them! They can offer protection!

One high bar, one middle, the gaps made him choose the lowest but as he went down to slide in the leopard had him.

His screams were bleets and snorts, he felt the claws in his sides and the hot breaths coming from the grunts of the cat as its canines sank into his shoulders, Duane kicked has hard as he could and with the tiny horns on his head shunted in the direction of his attacker.

For a split second the leopard let go and he was in between the horses, but they had a startle from the scramble between predator and prey, neighing and running, Duane tried keeping up with his pain raked body but to his dismay his efforts earned him a kicking hoof from a panicking horse.

The wind left him and he tumbled, that hurt more than the leopard's strike, he was on his feet surprised at how resilient this small body is, it must be why they call them 'wild animals'

Safe for now he scanned, the horses made distance between them but there where the leopard last struck was only empty space, he looked and bobbed his head, where did it go!? Would it give up!?

He had to insure safety! Duane knew this part of the farm and ran limping to the far side of the camp, through there was the palisade fencing that led out the farm, to the tar road, and ultimately safety.

He got to it and squeezed through, now his heart could be heard in his ears, his tiny lungs panting overtime, even as a human he never had that close of a brush with death, it made him think despite all the hardships and struggles his life was actually great.

Down this tar road he could go until he found the guest house, there he could squeeze through again and maybe find an open window, Lucy should be fast asleep by now.

He started his trot but suddenly a blow had him off his hooves again, the hiss and snarl was different from the grunts and rasps from the leopard, he glanced as he kicked and saw the smooth outline of the smaller spotless cat.

So this was a Caracal, Duane only saw pictures of it, but never thought he'd meet one in the wild this close up.
Its smaller than the leopard so Duane felt he could put up a better fight, kicking and horning it with a vengeance, he will not die here! Not here!

The brawl went on for only a short time but the Caracal did its damage when a flash of light combed over them scaring the cat off, Duane stood ready to go again but the passing car slowed down, saved by a stranger it seemed.

He knew how some people would say 'Poor thing, let's put it out if its misery' the scent of blood in the air confirmed that thought, they would feel sympathy for this small little wounded antelope, so he ran again, found a different part of the farm and entered, hoping he eluded both his feline friends.

There in the distance was the stud stalls, he could find safety there for the night, knowing it is usually busy, leopard and Caracals won't stray too close.

He ran over the clearing and found the stalls preserved for the merries of the farm, he hopped in through a stall window but landed in between the foal and his mother, Duane knew the mother would retaliate and defend so with another bound he was out the stall and into the run, safe...

Or so he thought, down the run between all the stalls stood two apex predators, Duane forgot all about the night shift farm workers in charge of keeping an eye on the merries who foal this time if year.

The two men stood up slowly from their beer crate seats, holding their hands wide, to escape Duane saw behind the two was open doors, the only way out.

One if the two went into a room slowly, and came out with a machete, meat was meat, his times spent in South Africa allowed him to learn that the South Africans take an opportunity for meat up very seriously, their forefathers are hunters after all.

The two slowly approached, still holding their hands wide, but Duane was going to fight his way out, he survived a leopard attack, a caracal attack! Evaded a crocodile! He will for damn sure get through this as well!
Swiftly he tucked at his hooves again, the cement was slightly slippery but he managed, he darted left right then left again, confusing the men and slipping past.

The one with the machete swung and grazed his hindquarters but it barely pierced his skin, out the doors and into the night again.

Now from here the guesthouse wasn't too far, he ran at full speed, his tiny lungs suffering under the cardio, his heart wanted to burst, but let him die from that instead, he will not fall prey to anything!

He came down the path and saw the rental Mercedes standing in front of the houses, next to it he hooked those small horns into the door handle and felt glad he never locked the car.

He hopped in and drew it closed with a leg, this was how it felt to be truly safe, though the leathers of the seats were properly painted with blood he didn't care, lying down he caught his breath, and the fatigue made him fall asleep.

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Author's note:

Ok I didn't like writing this chapter for some reason, it felt boring, but I had to get it out of the way.

The header photo is the two cats. Leopard and Caracal.

The caracal is probably my favourite wild cat, also referred to as the Red lynx or 'Rooikat' in Afrikaans translates 'Red cat' in English.

Hope this chapter wasn't too cliché and thanks for the read.