Oxygénia

The morning forest was glorious. Only the distant soughing of
water and the whispering of the leaves was to be heard. The sun
was just rising and formed a golden bridge between sky and earth.
The sky was silky blue like above the most beautiful islands of the
Mediterranean Sea or the Pacific Ocean, the air was filled with
honey scent.
Now, he heard bellowing horn signals, followed by the excited
barking of the hounds.
It seemed to him as if the thundering of hooves, the smashing of
branches and the sound of racing bodies would rip the silence of
the morning to pieces. Through the scope, Peter spotted a herd of
animals. He had never seen other animals like them, they were
stunningly beautiful. Their color was a transition from the brown of
the tree barks to the green of the moss. Black-brown stripes and
flecks decorated their backs. The shape of the body and the antlers
reminded him of deer, but their sparkling eyes and their sharp teeth
bore more resemblance of a tiger. The wild raced down into the
valley and back up again towards the clearing, towards the royal
hunting castle and the posts of the hunters. Now, rifle shooting was
heard from everywhere. The escape of the aninmals became faster.
A strange crying and roaring permeated the forest. The barking of
the hounds became wilder and wilder. Somewhere, hurt animals
cried. Then, the bushes before Peter opened, and mereley a
hundred steps away from him, a glorious animal with a giant antler
stopped. Only a tiny movement at the trigger of the rifle: the shoot
couldn't miss by any chance. Peter hesitated for a moment, then let
the weapon down. The marvellous animal ran on. At the same
moment, another rifle thundered, two shoots in a row. The glorious
wild was rearing up and collapsed. Blood streamed out of his eye
and the neck.
Peter felt a strong pressure in his stomach. Sweat began to cover
his face. He was shaken by fever and disgust. He was dizzy and
sick.
The son of Earth, for the fist time in his life, witnessed murder,
useless bloodshed, the death twitch of a living being.
On Earth, the forceful dead had become unknown for over a
millenia. The flowing blood, the broken eye of the killed animal, his
painful twitching was enough to shake Peter awake. The effect of
the daily dosis of the narcotic PXF was gone.
'What happened to me? What did they do to me? Since when do I
live here?', Peter thought in horror and wiped his sweat wet face.
Was it really himself who lived in this luxury and pageantry for days
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