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Hector was at the deer and evaluated it, and gave my father thumbs up that it was dead.
     
     
    My father was done maintaining his rifle. He used his scope to check up on Hector from across the forest where the dead deer was.
    Hector was collecting a container of blood from the deer to drink, when suddenly a strange man came toward Hector.
    My father observed the strange man who was dressed in a brown robe, with a hood covering most of his face.
    The strange man pointed at Hector, and Hector stood up, and suddenly, the strange man through himself at Hector with great speed. Hector screamed.
    My father witnessed the strange man bent toward Hectors neck.
    My father aimed his rifle, pulled the trigger back, back, but nothing! The rifle was jammed.
    The strange man stopped suddenly, and dropped Hector.
    My father stared at the strange man through his rifle scope, and the strange man looked right at my father’s eye through his scope.
    It was eerie, an evil looking red eye staring right at my father’s blue eye, all through the eye of the rifle scope.
     
     
    My father did not hesitate, he pulled the rifle trigger and shot clean at his intended target, but when my father took a second look, the strange man seemed to have vanished, as if he was never there in the first place.
    My father looked again. “HECTOR!” he yelled. He ran towards Hector pointing his rifle at every direction, to make sure he was not followed. Hector was face down beside the deer. My father turned Hector over.
    Hector was alive! He was bleeding from the main artery in his neck.
    He had two big holes pierced in his neck. My father tried to cover the wound to Hectors neck with a piece of clothing that he cut from his shirt, but it did not help.
    Hector attempted to speak with his deep Spanish accent. “It.. . it. . .was . ..devil.” he gasped. Hector choked on his own blood, and died with his eyes open. My father closed Hectors eyes with his hands.
    I never thought I would have ever heard of this, but, my father suddenly cried. He mourned Hector for hours, and was leaning on the deer beside Hector.
    Eventually, my father carried Hector back to the farm on his back.
    He spent all night digging up a grave for Hector. A storm arrived that night.
     
     
    Heavy winds and rain cursed the night. My father finally buried Hector with a wooden cross on top with Hectors name carved in and the words “ Gone to Heaven ” carved under Hectors name.
    My father stayed beside Hectors grave all night, even though the stormed almost seemed to turn into a hurricane.
    He drank heavily that night. Whiskey was his weapon of choice. He was a heavy drinker, even before the passing of Hector.
    He stormed off into the night with his whisky bottle half full. He wandered into the dark forest where Hector was killed.
    He didn’t care anymore. H e welcomed death even more when Hector was gone. My father told me, “When you look for death, it will hide from you, if death wants you, it will get you.” he said. He was out for death.
    He wanted death, but he was too proud to kill himself.
    He wanted death to find him, whether it was lightning striking him to death, a wild bear, or even that strange man that killed Hector.
    Death was hiding from my father that stormy night. My father was so drunk that death would have been too easy.
     
    Suffering would not have been a problem with all that alcohol in my father’s body, since he wouldn’t have felt that much pain.
    My father roamed the forest all night. Finally, he walked so deep into the forest; he came to a waterfall at the edge of the forest. He wanted to jump. He looked around the forest, and saw darkness.
    Suddenly, a bolt of lightning struck, and he looked across from him to see the strange man standing across from him. The strange man eyes lit up bright red with the lightning that lit up the forest.
    Even though my father was drunk as shit, he was startled!
    He dropped his whiskey bottle which was shattered on rocks on the