Re: The Huntsman and the Wolf [3/??]
anonymous
November 28 2009, 21:57:57 UTC
Alfred’s muscles tense and his heart plays mind games with his head, one on one off, and the beats aren’t quite steady yet when he gets his nerves together and laughs. The cat stays long enough to give him a mildly disdainful glance before padding off towards the last corner of light in the sky. Alfred is sorry to see it go.
“Guess there are wolves in here, huh?” he says out loud, a dare to the now rapidly dying wind. “Doesn’t matter, though. They’re probably a lot further in. Nothin’ to worry - ”
Another howl to the east, between himself and the forest’s edge.
Shit. There aren’t supposed to be wolves here, Matthew couldn’t have known that and still dared him to stay out, this has to be an exception -
Except not really. He’s taken the dare and has to follow through. He’s Alfred Jones. Had he really expected the woods to be lifeless at night? Besides, wolves don’t attack people just because, do they? They have to have some way of knowing when a human means them harm. If he just stays put, they’ll see that there’s no need to -
The howl is closer this time.
“Dammit.”
Alfred scrambles to his feet, peering cautiously into the dark east. He doesn’t know much about wolves, other than the ones in scary stories and his old adventure books. He’s fairly certain they travel in packs, though - where had the first howl come from, anyway? He can’t remember. How many wolves could be surrounding him right now, and what are they hunting? It can’t be him, there must be some big game somewhere nearby that they are closing in on, circling, fixing with glowing eyes…
There is breathing in the underbrush.
Alfred’s breathing stops.
The tiniest wheezing, feet away. Rhythmic and fascinating, just soft enough to border on the imaginary. It could be the breeze, or something else completely non-threatening, but there is a shadow there that seems to creep between leaves and branches, a moving dark mass that is breathing and Alfred cannot move, he is trapped by the dark and the cold wind. Transfixed by smoldering yellow eyes.
A twig snaps.
Alfred sprints.
He nearly falls twice, fueled by adrenaline and panic, crashing almost blindly towards anywhere not here. Somewhere along the way the path gets indistinct, and he can only pray that he hasn’t left it yet, that he’ll find his way back when his mind isn’t fogged by fear and what he thinks might be the sound of great animal feet. Shadows swim on the edge of his vision, slipping between foliage to make the branches sway like ghostly grasping hands, taking form just off the path to keep pace on his right.
Alfred veers left, crashing through the tightening trees, struggling only to go faster amidst the slaps and cuts of twigs and the rocks reaching up from the dirt to drag him down to themselves -
His face smashes into the ground, his ankle a sudden flash of blind pain. He lies still, expecting claws at any moment, savage teeth ripping into his skin…
Any moment now.
Trees whisper in the empty breeze.
He lies still for a full minute, staring cross-eyed at the new scratch on his glasses before sitting up slowly, propping himself up on his elbows. He stares in the direction he came, straining to hear between his own ragged breathing and the heartbeat in his ears.
Maybe…maybe the thing got bored along the way. Maybe it had been toying with him, because there is no way he could actually outrun a full-grown wolf in the dark woods, as athletic as he is. Maybe he had just been stupid, seeing things out of some lingering apprehension about the dare.
Right. The dare. Keep calm, Matthew will never let him live it down if -
The only thing he really comprehends is the return of the eyes before his world becomes horror and weight and snapping jaws blowing hot breath in his face, rancid like decaying meat.
“Guess there are wolves in here, huh?” he says out loud, a dare to the now rapidly dying wind. “Doesn’t matter, though. They’re probably a lot further in. Nothin’ to worry - ”
Another howl to the east, between himself and the forest’s edge.
Shit. There aren’t supposed to be wolves here, Matthew couldn’t have known that and still dared him to stay out, this has to be an exception -
Except not really. He’s taken the dare and has to follow through. He’s Alfred Jones. Had he really expected the woods to be lifeless at night? Besides, wolves don’t attack people just because, do they? They have to have some way of knowing when a human means them harm. If he just stays put, they’ll see that there’s no need to -
The howl is closer this time.
“Dammit.”
Alfred scrambles to his feet, peering cautiously into the dark east. He doesn’t know much about wolves, other than the ones in scary stories and his old adventure books. He’s fairly certain they travel in packs, though - where had the first howl come from, anyway? He can’t remember. How many wolves could be surrounding him right now, and what are they hunting? It can’t be him, there must be some big game somewhere nearby that they are closing in on, circling, fixing with glowing eyes…
There is breathing in the underbrush.
Alfred’s breathing stops.
The tiniest wheezing, feet away. Rhythmic and fascinating, just soft enough to border on the imaginary. It could be the breeze, or something else completely non-threatening, but there is a shadow there that seems to creep between leaves and branches, a moving dark mass that is breathing and Alfred cannot move, he is trapped by the dark and the cold wind. Transfixed by smoldering yellow eyes.
A twig snaps.
Alfred sprints.
He nearly falls twice, fueled by adrenaline and panic, crashing almost blindly towards anywhere not here. Somewhere along the way the path gets indistinct, and he can only pray that he hasn’t left it yet, that he’ll find his way back when his mind isn’t fogged by fear and what he thinks might be the sound of great animal feet. Shadows swim on the edge of his vision, slipping between foliage to make the branches sway like ghostly grasping hands, taking form just off the path to keep pace on his right.
Alfred veers left, crashing through the tightening trees, struggling only to go faster amidst the slaps and cuts of twigs and the rocks reaching up from the dirt to drag him down to themselves -
His face smashes into the ground, his ankle a sudden flash of blind pain. He lies still, expecting claws at any moment, savage teeth ripping into his skin…
Any moment now.
Trees whisper in the empty breeze.
He lies still for a full minute, staring cross-eyed at the new scratch on his glasses before sitting up slowly, propping himself up on his elbows. He stares in the direction he came, straining to hear between his own ragged breathing and the heartbeat in his ears.
Maybe…maybe the thing got bored along the way. Maybe it had been toying with him, because there is no way he could actually outrun a full-grown wolf in the dark woods, as athletic as he is. Maybe he had just been stupid, seeing things out of some lingering apprehension about the dare.
Right. The dare. Keep calm, Matthew will never let him live it down if -
The only thing he really comprehends is the return of the eyes before his world becomes horror and weight and snapping jaws blowing hot breath in his face, rancid like decaying meat.
Reply
Reply
How could you just end it there...evil..evil...evil!
Seriously though still love and adore this and anxiously awaiting more!!
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment