Well, it finally happened.
Jimmy always knew hunting wasn't really for him—as a bloodclaat Jamaican.
But to explain what happened, let's tell his story.
It all started on what he thought would be just another regular day.
The sun was setting over the thick Jamaican bush, casting golden rays through the trees.
He had his rifle slung over his back, his boots crushing dry leaves as he followed fresh tracks.
Hunting was his life. His pride.
But deep down, Jimmy always had this feeling—this gut feeling—that something was waiting for him out there.
He was Jimmy Martin. Known in his country and beyond.
If a beast needed to be put down, people called him.
He thought he was untouchable.
He thought he ruled these lands.
He was wrong.
That day, Jimmy tracked something big.
The signs were fresh—broken branches, claw marks, disturbed soil.
He thought it was a lone bear. Rare in these parts, but not impossible.
Jimmy followed the trail.
Confident. Cocky, even.
Until he reached a clearing.
There it was.
A bear—massive and scarred—its dark eyes glaring at him.
But beside it, tearing into fresh prey, was something Jimmy didn't expect.
A honey badger.
Small, fierce—like it owned the world.
He should've known to walk away.
But pride can make a man blind.
Jimmy raised his rifle and aimed at the bear.
One shot.
" Bang", Clean hit.
But the bear didn't fall.
It roared with pure rage and charged.
Before he could reload, the honey badger darted towards him.
Its sharp eyes locked onto him like it recognized him—like it hated him.
Jimmy fired again.
Missed.
The honey badger was too fast.
The bear was too close.
Jimmy turned and ran, his heart pounding, his breath burning in his chest.
But you can't outrun karma.
The bear slammed into him, its weight crushing his ribs.
He struggled, punched, kicked—but it was useless.
Then the honey badger sank its teeth into his throat.
The last thing Jimmy saw were its cold, unforgiving eyes.
When he opened his eyes again, he was floating in darkness.
There was no pain. No ground. No sky. Just silence.
Then he heard it.
"You hunted without mercy. Now, mercy will never find you."
The voice, ancient and cold, echoed through the void.
"Bloodclaat," Jimmy said. "God, a you dat? Mi bomboclaat—how you even see up ya? It nuh dark, God?"
"Silence." the voice said.
"You will live again. But not as a man. From now on, every life will hunt you. This… is your karma."
"But God, why you want fi turn me into a woman? Just mek me stay a man, please! Mi just waan keep mi third leg! And who name Karma? Just tell me! Mi will kill fi you! Just mek me stay a man!"
"Karma is not a person. It's bad luck," the voice replied, calm but sharp.
"But for you, it will be your curse. You killed all those animals. Your soul is stained with their blood. You will not be born as a man. Nor will you be a woman. You shall be born as… an animal."
"But God… a what kind of animal you a plan fi turn me into? Mi waan be the king of the jungle, like the man who swing pan the tree vine!" Jimmy begged.
"You have been pushing your luck from the very moment your soul arrived," the voice replied. "I will make sure your karma hunts you down."
"BY MY DECREE, JIMMY MARTIN WILL BE CURSED BY HIS OWN KARMA. HE SHALL BE REBORN AS ONE OF THE 4.9 MILLION ANIMALS HE KILLED. AND IN THIS LIFE, EVERY MAN, BOY, OR CHILD WILL FEEL THE URGE TO HUNT HIM DOWN AND KILL HIM!"
Jimmy's eyes widened.
"Yow God, a what the bloodclaat yuh mean by 'hunt'? Hunt who?" he shouted, confused and angry.
He scratched his head, still floating in the darkness.
"A wonda if you a Satan..."
The silence cracked like thunder.
"You dare call me by that evil God's name?" the voice roared, rage shaking the void. "For your insolence, I will send you to a broken world!"
Jimmy's chest tightened. "Wait! Bloodclaat! Mi sorry! Mi just a joke! Mi nah call yuh Satan, mi a say yuh righteous, mi swear—"
"SILENCE!" the voice boomed.
"You, Jimmy Martin, will face your karma in a land where life itself is fractured. There, no beast will fear you. No man will show you mercy. There… YOU will be the prey."
Jimmy felt something pulling him down—fast, rough, like he was being dragged by his very soul.
"God! God! Yow! Mi sorry mi call yuh Satan! Bloodclaat—ease mi up, man!"
"May your screams become a song for the hunters," the voice said coldly, fading as Jimmy fell.
Then—nothing.
************
In a barren land filled with the corpses of beasts,men, and women, a group of warriors moved with deadly purpose. They were covered in shining silver armor, their black cloaks trailing behind them like shadows.
At the front stood a young woman. Her voice cut through the silence as she barked orders to the silver-armored soldiers.
"Don't leave anything alive! Kill them all! Burn their corpses! Follow the king's orders!"
Her eyes were cold, merciless.
"Make sure not one of these ravagers survives."
"Captain, they're all dead," said a young woman with blonde hair and eyes as black as the void itself.
The woman giving the orders turned sharply to the blonde-haired girl and removed her helmet. Her blue hair cascaded down her back, and her sapphire blue eyes glowed with savage intent—though the intensity softened as they landed on the blonde woman.
"Adrenaline, I keep telling you—stop calling me Captain," she said.
"Sorry," Adrenaline replied, then continued, "Lydia, all of those ravagers have died and burned. Hmmm, I wonder why the king ordered us to kill all the ravagers."
"Good," Lydia said, brushing off the question. "What does it matter? Aren't they still demon beasts?"
"But aren't they the weakest of all demon beasts?" Adrenaline asked.
"It's not our place to question. We just follow orders," Lydia replied.
Lydia and Adrenaline walked toward the blazing fire, where the mutilated bodies of the ravagers burned, the air thick with smoke and the stench of death.
"We have completed our task," Lydia said. "Let's head back to the capital and report our success to the king. We should be ready by sunrise."
One of the men sighed in relief upon hearing they were finally heading back to the capital.
Twelve hours passed in the blink of an eye. The warriors in silver armor packed up their spoils of war. Lydia and Adrenaline emerged from a small hunting shelter made of hardened earth.
"Let's head back," Lydia commanded.
As they began their march toward the capital, Lydia turned one last time to look at the mutilated and burning corpses of the ravagers.
She smiled coldly—
Then turned and followed her warriors into the sun rise.
***********
Born Again… In Mud
Next to a dying bonfire surrounded by burned ravager corpses, the ground stirred.
A small ripple tore open in the dirt.
Out crawled a tiny animal—about 7 inches long, covered in mud.
It squeaked furiously, like it was cursing someone.
Author's Note:We'll be translating the animal squeaks for reader convenience.
"Bloodclaat! A where him send mi?!" the animal shouted. "God, mi bloodclaat!
You a the devil! How yuh fi mek people hunt mi rass?!
A who him take mi for? Him nuh know who mi is?
A Jimmy! Jim! Jim! …Mi bloodclaat… wait…
Mi nuh even remember mi name! God, mi sorry! Please remind mi what mi name is again!
Yow! Answer mi! Mi know yuh a listen!
Yow Satan! Give mi back mi name, yuh wicked bloodclaat! Mi want it back!"
Five minutes passed. The animal was still cussing out the heavens.
Then—
"Yow… a what smell so good?"
The creature waddled toward the dying fire, sniffing the air.
Its nose twitched. It stepped over scorched bones and charred limbs.
"Mi bombo bloodclaat..." the animal muttered.
"God... yuh really serious to rass? Yuh really turn mi into a animal?"
"Mi haffi see what mi look like. But first—let mi feel if mi still have mi third leg."
It paused.
"Thank yuh! It still deh deh!
Mi swear yuh was gonna turn mi into a woman animal. God, mi nearly faint."
Still clueless what animal it had become, it trudged through the wasteland,
past twisted, mutilated corpses.
No body intact. No clues.
He wandered for hours, cursing his tiny body.
Then—
A roar.
"Bloodclaat! A what that?!
Mi not going over deh like how white people always a go look fi trouble!"
"But mi hungry now... suh mi a guh peek. If anything move, mi run."
He crept forward, through the grass, trembling.
Up ahead was a lake. He crouched near a bush—and froze.
A rabbit with horns on its head.
A boar walking on two legs, like a human.
"Mi bloodclaat," the creature whispered. "A what kinda place God send mi to?
Jesus help mi! This man really serious 'bout making everything hunt mi."
He hid under a tree root and watched.
The rabbit—he called it "Horned Rabbit."
The bipedal boar—he named it "Man Boar."
They tried to eat each other while a giant bird circled overhead.
Eventually, he dozed off.
When he awoke, the moonlight bathed the forest in a soft glow.
"Now mi fi see mi reflection," he muttered.
He crept to the lake and gazed into the water.
"MI BLOODCLAAAT!" he screamed.
"What the hell yuh turn mi into?!
Mi look like a rat! Wait… no... a mongoose?!"
"No sah… wait... no to rass... a honey badger?!"
He stared.
"Mi know say yuh was Satan!
Look how mi small now! Mi used to be a man. A killer!
Now mi a pocket-sized target?!"
He sat there, staring at his reflection for 15 minutes.
"Suh a this a mi life now," he muttered.
"This a mi karma..."
He looked at the lake again.
"Well, since mi already here… might as well take a swim."
He jumped into the water and tried doing the front crawl like a human—
forgetting he was now a honey badger.
He began to sink.