IPCQ: The Dallas Cowboys Untold Stories: DeMarco The Dinosaur Hunter (Part 2)


I ntroduction: (Last time.. ON DeMarco The Dinosaur Hunter!) Before he could turn around to look toward the area where he had heard the call, something had flashed in the corner of his eye. Without thinking, DeMarco dove to the side, landing in a roll that protected his rifle and ended with him in a crouching position where he was aiming his weapon at the general area where the suspected attack had come from. There was nothing. Nothing was there. But he had heard it. He had seen it, barely. But most importantly, he had felt it. No, it didn’t brush up against him, but his instincts had rang true. He was just attack by an animal who was, perhaps, physically superior to himself. DeMarco’s breath burst forth in quick puffs, mixing in with the pre-noon chill to create quickly dissipating clouds in front of his face. He scanned left. He scanned right. He heard nothing.

This time, he had heard it much earlier. DeMarco turned a full 180 degrees just in time to see a raptor charging right at him. He fired his rifle as he turned. The raptor, as if possessing knowledge of human tactics and weaponry, had altered his charge to the side to avoid DeMarco’s gunfire.

And suddenly, the raptor was there. A full speed charge, culminating in a mouth-to-face collision that favored the dinosaur greatly. At least, that would have been the case, had the human been ordinary. But DeMarco The Dinosaur Hunter was no ordinary human

Now…P aragraphical Notage:

Just as the raptor’s jaw opened up to reveal razor sharp teeth, hot, slimy saliva, and the foul smell of decaying meats, DeMarco bent his knees a bit, planted his left foot into the dirt, and spun to the right. The raptor snapped his lethal jaws, ready to savor this new, exotic meat. But nothing but there. He had bit nothing more than a small gust of air, created by the alacrity of DeMarco’s spin. Suddenly, DeMarco was behind the raptor, with his gun pointed directly at the back of the beasts head.

The raptor turned slowly to face DeMarco. He turned in a way that implied that he realized he had been beaten. DeMarco smiled, as he usually did just before a big kill. As his muscles flinched to squeeze the trigger and claim his first trophy on this island, he noticed something very queer. The raptor opened his mouth and let out a very quiet sound that sounded to DeMarco like a bird with a Darth Vader mask on. Suddenly the sound began to…Change.

DeMarco heard a word. “Listen”. He clearly heard “Listen” come from the raptor’s mouth. It seemed to blend in with the low hum that accompanied the word. “Listen to me”, he heard. It was as if the words were interwoven into the raptor’s hushed roar.

“Did you just speak English?” DeMarco asked in a grave tone.

“I spoke. You listened. That is all.” DeMarco heard in the raptor’s voice.

“How are you doing this?” DeMarco asked as he raised his head over the sights, to look the raptor directly in the eye.

The raptor closed his mouth and took a few steps back. When DeMarco lowered his head to aim his gun back toward the raptor’s head, the raptor tilted his head as a dog might while listening to a high pitched noise.

“I am doing nothing. I speak, as all raptors speak. You chose to listen, and no mammal has ever attempted.”

Again, DeMarco lowered his gun a bit to get a better look at the whole raptor.

“Why did you even attempt to speak to me if no mammal has ever understood you?”

“Fool. My life was moments from it’s end. The last act of all who are at their end is to negotiate, either through words or through actions. Clearly, my actions weren’t enough. I assumed that my voice would do nothing, but I had to try. It seems as though I were successful. How dare you question me when I am correct, and in my correctness had managed to lengthen my life? Although, the amount of lengthening is yet to be determined. Who better to judge as to how many extra moments I have acquired than the man who chose to delay the execution?”

the raptor took a few cautious steps toward DeMarco. This time, DeMarco didn’t move.

“There must be a reason that I yet draw breath. Is it that you do not have the ability to destroy, or even wound me? Are you merely a creature composed entirely of defensive traits? Dodge left? Dodge right? Do I have the right of it? Yes.. Yes, I think I do. You are as the turtle is. A shell, and nothing more. Nothing to fear, am I correct? That is that you hold in your hand? Am I to believe that it can harm me any more than a cudgel? Or a sharpened rock?”

The raptor tapped a toe on the dirt. A quick “thud-thud” that caused DeMarco to shift his eyes downward for a split second.

The raptor saw it as an opportunity.

As soon as DeMarco’s eyes darted back upward, the raptor had taken a quick step in his direction. DeMarco pointed his gun at the raptor’s leg and squeezed the trigger.

Thunder sounded, DeMarco’s shoulder felt a familiar kick. Birds exploded from the top of the jungle trees, they screeched in unison, creating a sound that rivaled the fire that blasted out of DeMarco’s gun. However, the birds and the gun together did not create a sound nearly as terrifying as the screech that funneled out of the raptor’s throat. DeMarco winced at the noise. Quickly, he recovered and moved closer to the raptor, pushing the nuzzle of the gun into the raptor’s throat.

The raptor laid on the ground as the gun pressed into his exposed throat. His knee had been blown off. Where once had been whole, now was a gory pit of veins, blood, torn meat, and shattered bone. Blood pumped furiously out of the wound and the raptor’s scream faded into a low hum.

“What sorcery is this!? You have destroyed my leg, utterly, mammal! Finish this so that I may enter the Jurassic plane with my brothers and sisters!

DeMarco’s eyes were narrowed. He turned his head to spit. He kept eye contact with the raptor the whole time.

“Before I finish you, tell me something. How many raptors are on this island?”

The raptor’s hum stopped for a moment while it cackled with what seemed like mirth and glee. He then hummed again.

“We are many. Many more than you can handle, strange mammal. If you choose to stay on our island, then you were suffer a worse fate than I have. I will join the Jurassic Plane, while you will transform into the Earth itself. You will be the sand than we walk on. The dirt that we bathe in. The grass that we used as salads for our entrees. You stand no chance. You will not survive more than a day here. My dying cry that alerted my kin. My brethren are approaching as we speak. Finish me, or surrender the opportunity to take to the seas, and retreat as all coward mammals do.”

DeMarco had heard enough. He lowered the gun to the base of the raptor’s neck and fired. Filth exploded into the air, bathing DeMarco in blood and quieting the raptor forever.

It had taken DeMarco over an hour to remove the raptor’s head. He has never dealt with such an anatomy. It were as if he were beheading a crocodile and a vulture all at once.

When DeMarco had arrived at his camp, it was late in the day, with still an hour or two of daylight left. DeMarco had filled a tub with preserving fluids and placed the head within it, to keep it from rotting. He only meant to take one raptor head back home. The less raptor head trophies in the world, the higher the value. Of course, DeMarco would never sell his trophy. But he would relish the fact that he would own the only one of the planet.

DeMarco gathered sticks and leaves and started a fire on the beach. If the raptors DID attack, he’d have the ocean to protect his rear. That meant that he only had to worry about 3 different attack angles. But there was only one of him, and an unknown number of them. He was as ready as he’d ever be without time to build up some defenses. He was DeMarco The Dinosaur Hunter, with physical skills that normal men did not possess. Not only that, but he had a few tricks up his sleeves. Tricks that he may need. Sooner, rather than later.

TO BE CONTINUED…

C onclusion:

TO BE CONTINUED…

(Unless I get fired for this)

Who had guessed that the dinosaurs were going to talk to DeMarco? Seriously. Don’t lie.

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