A Tale of the Unnatural: blood fest

Showing posts with label blood fest. Show all posts

Saturday, May 31, 2014

Chapter Five Part One

“Could it be a Chupacabra?” asked Morrison of his deputy. A hunter that used to trap squirrels and wild rabbits in the forest had come upon a white tailed fawn that had been ripped apart and bled dry. “I don’t think so, so far up north... it could be a cougar or mountain lion... but, yes I know, if it walks like a duck... I’ll drive into the forest early tomorrow and take a look for myself.” the deputy answered.

Morrison put the Pontiac in drive and u-turned back to his office. “Is it a beast or a creature? That is the question!” thought the Keeper. There really was no hurry for him to go anywhere. Things had been quiet, as usual for a small town, “Maybe I should stop for a latte?” he pondered.

Morrison’s deputy decided not to wait until the next day. He walked up the street to the firehouse, borrowed an ATV and headed for the forest. He wanted to be back before nightfall.

(To Be Continued.)

Monday, May 26, 2014

Chapter Four Part Nine

Hunger led Remus to scavenge. He could swiftly snatch a squirrel off a limb, rip off its head, to make peeling the skin easier, and devour the raw flesh. The squirrels were tasty, ok, but made for a skimpy meal and Remus was also very thirsty, a thirst that the small furry animals insignificant amount of blood would not satisfy. The slaughtered game became larger with each kill. The cavern that had opened up in his body could not be filled.

The forest did not offer a large variety of prey. The bears, wolves and mountain lions had been hunted to extinction. Only the occasional herd of deer would trek through foraging on the way to higher ground. There was nothing the white tailed doe could do to save her fawn from Remus. He fell on the fawn knocking it to the ground, pull the neck back until it snapped and ferociously, like some animal, bit deep and hard into the fawn’s neck. Hugging the dead fawn on the forest floor, Remus let the blood drain into his mouth.

The small herd ran off without looking back.

End of Chapter Four

(To Be Continued.)

Tuesday, December 3, 2013

Chapter One Part Eight

Three enormous mastodon-like dogs jump out of the forest right into the melee. The wolves’ size and presence were enough to draw the fighters’ attention. Moving swiftly between the antagonists, the wolves blocked punches and pushed some away. Not all of the skirmishes had to be brought down; just the important ones.

The zombie children are pulled off their chosen victim and set down on the dirt at the edge of camp; six and seven at a time. The Keepers are having a lot more trouble with the women. They won’t let go.

The largest of the Keeper’s, werewolf Maxus, sprinted towards the biting, chewing, tearing, punching, loathsome opponents, Remus and Agros. It was not that he went undetected, he’s enormous, but his ability to slide his body between the fighting creatures and block every move they made to hurt each other was so confusing to the fighters that perplexity drove out anger.

Maxus howls, not in triumph but as a signal to all creatures that the battle has come to an end. The other two Keepers echo Maxus’ howl.

(To Be Continued.)

Monday, December 2, 2013

Chapter One Part Seven

It is a blood fest but of the wrong kind. The viciousness on both sides is appalling. Pieces of bodies are strewn all over the camp. The blood and gore leave you speechless. Perhaps, it’s the blood itself that’s enjoying it all the most. It appeared to dance with the air and play with the central bonfire, bursting into flames as the occasional droplet kissed a spark.

It’s only that no one dies. Body parts recall their owners. The gush of blood is never ending. A circle of bite and tear, hit and break, anger and hatred that ate it own tail. How many times can you rip off the same arms without starting to feel foolish? Remus choked on all the blood and Agros’ face recomposed. But reality didn’t stop the fighting. No matter how senseless it had become.

The beastly creatures are so engrossed in trying to tear each other apart that no one hears the approaching deep rumble of paws racing through the forest.

(To Be Continued.)