Hunter and Hunted

World War One; Somewhere on the European front. The night chill seeps up from the ground, into the worn fabric of your uniform. The threadbare blankets the military handed out does little to help keep the biting chill away. Despite it finally being spring, the night clings to the dregs of winter, drawing out the cold as long as possible. You shiver, glancing down the trench line in the weak hope of a replacement, so you can finally get some sleep. But no relief comes. Not from the cold, not from the war. And not from the sound coming from no-man's-land. The sound... something nagging at the back of your mind. Suddenly you feel your hair standing on end, your breath catching in your throat...