DISCLAIMER: I don't own Psych. If I did, the seventh season would already be out, and Shawn would be whumped WAY more than he is on the show! Hee hee...


The Hunter, the Psychic, and the Bathrobe by Emachinescat

A Psych Fan-Fiction

SUMMARY: Meet The Hunter, a genius serial killer who is in it for the chase. He's been working his way across the country from Maine all the way to California, he's killed ten people, and he's never, ever been caught. Now he's got his sights set on some elusive new prey – a famed psychic detective from Santa Barbara – and nothing is going to get in his way. In this game, it's kill or be killed, and Shawn Spencer is about to become the key player.


A/N: This story was inspired loosely by "The Most Dangerous Game," a short story by Richard Connell. I read it nearly eight years ago as a Freshman in high school, and it has stuck with me ever since. That being said, this fan-fiction is certainly not based on the short story, but it definitely had some influence. I highly suggest that if you haven't read it, you look it up and read it. It's a great, scary read! Also, this story has nothing to do with Narnia like the title might suggest; I just thought it was a fun title (and believe it or not, the bathrobe will indeed come in later). :) This is my first-ever full-length Psych fan-fiction, and although I've got a lot of other stories to work on right now, I'm diving in headfirst. Hopefully you'll enjoy; please read and review!


The Hunter, the Psychic, and the Bathrobe

Prologue

The room was small and cozy. Thick Persian carpet padded the floor, and a small gas fire crackled in the hearth. The silk maroon wallpaper was barely visible beneath the vast collection of hunting trophies coating the walls. The occupant of the room was an avid hunter; the prizes from his various ventures – skins, rugs, coats, mounted heads – proved this to be true. He loved the thrill of the chase, but he no longer hunted deer, bear, mountain lions, or even alligator. Instead, he had had a new type of quarry for the past two years, and it had proved to be the most exciting yet.

Three walls were mounted with guns and furs and stuffed creatures. The back wall – the one opposite the fireplace – was mostly covered by a large bulletin board, not unlike one that might be used in a police investigation. The board was covered in pictures, all arranged neatly so that he could admire his past escapades and plan his new hunts with ease. There were ten pictures in all, and each of the large photographs had a large, red "X" jotted over the surface.

The last few hunts had been mediocre at best. He was getting tired of the same tricks, the same half-baked escape plans, and having to use the same strategies in order to catch his prey. Yes, he loved the hunt, and his new quarry was much better than the dumb animal, but still, even this had become stale. He needed something different, something unique. Something that wouldn't lie down and die. Something that would fight and actually prove to be a challenge. Something, perhaps, that had abilities that were beyond the norm.

He needed a true opponent.

With a grim smile of anticipation, the tall, muscular man that had been lurking in the shadows of the room came forward, yet another picture, this one devoid of any red markings, clutched in his meaty hands. He strode forward purposefully, and used a thumbtack to post the picture of the blown-up newspaper picture of the brown-haired, hazel-eyed man posing ridiculously in front of a dinosaur exhibit. It was a stupid picture, and an old one, but he had chosen it because it reminded him what this man was capable of.

With almost gentle hands, the man reached out and ran a finger down the side of the photograph, his eyes glinting darkly in the dim light from the fire behind him. "Perhaps you, my psychic friend, will be a worthy adversary," he whispered to the picture, and then he turned away abruptly. He had preparations to make, and then a plane to catch to Santa Barbara.

After three months of silence from the infamous killer, The Hunter was back on the prowl.

And it felt good.


A/N: Okay, the intro was ridiculously short, but the next chapter will be up very soon! And is it bad that I feel more sorry for the poor animals this jerk's got hanging on his walls than the humans he's killed? Oh, well… :) By the way, this takes place during season six. And the adventure will begin next chapter. Please review, and I'll update soon!

~Emachinescat ^..^