My wrath claws it's way out of my throat. The people who'd call themselves my family startle upon the noise. I ignore them.

How many times have I been plunged into those monochrome rapids? At least 5 more times, and yet and yet and yet and yet and yet the second night remains ever elusive. My quarry scurry all over in their hunt. No adhesive can seal the man who'd call himself my father's lips. No trick or scheme can throw off the killers for long. Those soldiers, those who would desire to hunt hunters, seem to be looking for something. Something that isn't me and they're willing to tear apart the whole cabin for it, but what is it? This "family" is poorer than poor! What object could they possibly possess that would warrant such violence?

"Cole?! What's wrong?!"

"Father" comes crashing into the room.

"Nothing just a nightmare is all."

Yes a nightmare. This is a nightmare situation. If only I could hit... no kill something, anything! Rip apart the monsters that haunt me! Reduce them to meaty strips! To cut through the powerlessness with a weapon, my own hands if need be! Was I always so blood thirsty? I suppose dieing stacked onto dieing stacked unto dieing stacked onto dieing stacked onto dieing would turn anyone this way. Compartmentalize those thoughts for now.

 Actions. I need new fresh actions. Throw stuff at the wall and see what sticks. Violence is obviously off the table. Hiding too. Talk then? Nonsense,  talking will obviously get me nowhere... talking alone at least. This is a loop obviously. I need to stop thinking like I only get one chance. I don't need to defang the beasts with words, just weasel out their secrets. Then I use their secrets in the next attempt. Ah ah ah, but how to go about such a thing. It's not like I can torture the information out of them. I have no means to inflict the necessary pain. Bribery then? What would I have to offer? I have no clue. However that's information I can get from my surroundings. We've long since been seated at the table.

"Father, what would you say is the most precious thing you have?"

"Well that'd obviously be you guys!"

He gets up and embraces me and my "sister", Wresty was it? Their name hasn't been to important so far. Also not what I meant.

"Let me rephrase, what is the object we own with the most monetary value?"

"Father" and "Mother" gaze upon me. Confusion. Concern. Judgment. Deception?

"Why would you want to know that?"

Always such a pain in the ass.

"Just answer the question please."

Hesitation.

"...probably our cabin."

My turn to gaze.

"... is not what you wanted to hear."

Correct.

"Definitely the bow then. It's been handed down from generation to generation."

Not very promising. I get up from the table and start putting on my outdoor gear. I've already eaten my fill.

"What are you up to?"

"Dad is going to show me how to use the bow today right? Since I'm done eating, I might as well get ready."

The people who would call themselves my parents look at each other.

"...How did you know that?"

Annoying. Annoying. Annoying. Why must these people hamper me in every way? Asinine questions don't deserve a response. I continue my set up and exit. He follows either way.

---

A realization. This place is a curious facsimile. The repetitious forest is familiar. Not due to the aforementioned repetitiousness of it, but because Its the mines. My prison in my last life didn't have any foliage, but yet paradoxically, the layout is the same. The trees make perfect paths that mimic each shaft. Why is that? How is that? Coincidence? What other possibility exists? Questions upon questions with answers without reach! Is this hell? A fractalesque labyrinth made just for my suffering? Is this rising frustration all I'll ever feel from now on?

While I was quietly simmering over my raging emotions, it seems as if we have reached the rabbit. "Father" points it out to me, but I already now its there. I knock an an arrow. I draw back the arrow. Hands now familiar help guide my shot. For whatever reason, I don't let the arrow loose. Perhaps it is just a passing fancy. A whim my malding mind manifested. I throw the bow to the side. 

Yes I'm sick of constantly missing. I'm sick of trying to learn this stupid bow. I'm sick of my inability to change my situation. I'm sick of my pent up frustration not having an outlet of release. I'm sick of this god damn hare getting away.

I lunge.

The rabbit startles. It runs. It freezes. I grab. I crush. It dies. I live.