Post by *ShinyKitty* on Oct 16, 2007 17:02:48 GMT -8
This is a story that my older sister wrote for her creative writing class. It's really awesome and gets us ready for Halloween!
Anywho, I'm going to stop yapping so you can start reading. Enjoy!
This was probably the stupidest thing he’d ever done. Staying out this late for a bet, and a five dollar bet at that, wasn’t worth what could happen to a guy out here. But, with his hands stuffed in his pockets, the right clutching a small Swiss-Army knife, Jeremy walked slowly along the fenced construction site. Every now and again his head would snap around to look over his shoulder, only to find nothing but a soft breeze blowing a tin can or a leafy twig. He spat on the sidewalk, annoyed at his jumpiness, and continued on. After a while, once his neck was thoroughly tweaked and his mouth was beginning to run dry, he had to resign himself to keeping his face forward. His eyes looked like they were spinning in his head, the way they darted this way and that, but at least he didn’t look like a complete fool twisting around every two seconds.
The streetlights were spaced too far apart, for there were pretty good sized gaps of darkness between the lit halos. Then again, no one was normally out this late to care; even the police had stopped patrolling two hours ago. It was a wonder the city decided to keep them running at all. Jeremy shook his head at the amount of money and energy the city was wasting, even though right then he was thankful for the small amount of protection the light offered. The moon was also helping out quite a bit that night, shining down in its fullest form.
The attacks had started a few years ago: people’s throats slashed; limbs ripped off and picked clean to the bone; one had his guts ripped out and half-gone; their faces all frozen in ghastly expressions of what could only be seen as fear. The attacks only happened at night and were discovered the next morning. There were never any witnesses, no fingerprints, no weapons left behind or even matching the marks on the victims. Police had released a bit of information to the public, names, locations, but the attacks continued just as they had been. It wasn’t until two months later that they launched their sting effort.
A shiver ran up his spine just thinking about it. Nearly the entire police department had been involved, small groups setting up around town, singling out one or two people to play the bait… The next morning the full story was released in every newspaper and broadcast; graphic pictures showing ten different locations all bathed in blood; no survivors from any one of them; grieving families called to the scene… Jeremy had wanted to watch Saturday morning cartoons.
After that night no one stayed out past sundown. The cops issuing the statement that with the diminished numbers they would have to stop patrols after midnight, though everyone knew the real reason. Everything had shifted forward so that there would be no need to commute after sunset; stores closed at 8:00, 7:00 during the winter; school started at 6:00 and went ‘til 3:00 so Fridays could be reserved for football games, school socials, or other events; even the local TV station had shifted its prime-time programming up to 6:00 to try and draw folks home sooner. While there wasn’t an enforced curfew, it was about like walking up to a guillotine to step out your front door after 9:00.
And here was Jeremy, tiptoeing through the middle of town dressed in a reflective orange vest, white t-shirt, and light blue jeans, out to fetch a magazine. It had been a stupid dare his buddies had set up: sneak over to Jerry’s newsstand and bring back that copy of last month’s Playboy sitting front-row-center. It had to be tonight, else the magazine might sell, and he had to wear the vest so they could keep watch for him if he chickened out and came back early. He wanted to strangle Greg for keeping this stupid vest from his job–it was his way at getting back at “the man” for firing him–but had put it on and walked out the door. It was one thing to chicken out after you’d left, it was another not to take the dare, which resulted in immediate and complete silent treatment for the next month, and he was counting on Rick for those test answers next week. Yeah, it was stupid, but what were a few bruises for the sake of friendship, right?
There hadn’t been any attacks in a while, about a year now, so there was a chance that whoever was doing it had moved on, or so Jeremy hoped. He was only a couple blocks from the stand and so far so good, but he kept his guard up, his pocketknife blade already drawn. Looking ahead, there wasn’t anything between here and there, the lights were all lit, and there weren’t even any alleyways leading off the main street. The only thing he had to worry about was that last corner…and the entire trip back. His small ounce of pride in his accomplishment faded, but he did quicken his stride, the halfway point now in sight.
He was only a block away when the street light ahead of him suddenly went out. He jumped back a step, whipping out his blade and jabbing it forward toward an invisible attacker. Then, realizing it was nothing more than a burnt-out bulb, not surprising in a city with no night-life, he kicked the ground and jammed his hands back into his pockets. “Agh! What'd I do that for?!” he yelled, yanking his knife back out, a small bit of blood coating the blade. Muttering a few more curses, he snapped the pocketknife shut and tossed it into his left hand, using his right to feel where the blade had stabbed through his pocket. The cut seemed pretty shallow, but he did notice a circle of red beginning to form on the light blue denim, just below where his pocket ended. “Great. Just perfect. They’d better be paying for a new set of jeans too.”
Finally figuring he’d be ok to continue, he turned his attention back to the darkened street corner ahead of him. Though a large part of him was all for turning back, the rest of him reasoned it wasn’t all that far to the next one, and the moon was lighting the area pretty well, so there was really no good excuse to turn back now. Besides, he wasn’t really all that much safer in the light than not. Taking a deep breath, Jeremy started forward; slowly at first, as if the light from the lamp was pulling him back; then slowly faster and faster, wanting the yellow glow from the light ahead to offer its sanctuary.
He ran by the corner of the building, off the sidewalk, across the asphalt of the street, only to slip on the curb on the other side and skid to a stop on his hands and knees. As if the self-inflicted wound in his leg wasn’t bad enough, now he had both knees ripped and small pebbles imbedded in his hands. He groaned and turned over, sitting himself up on the curb to pick the rocks from his hands and swear some more at his increasingly damaged jeans. The fall had wiped the fear from his mind, and all thoughts were once more on the task of cleaning himself up. Well, that and cursing at each person or thing that could have been responsible for this happening. For a preacher’s son, Jeremy did have a colorful vocabulary.
He finally managed to pry the last pebble from his left hand when he was knocked forward from behind, the air rushing from his lungs as he was forced to double over, his nose nearly touching the asphalt. On the rebound, he tried to bend his knees and get his legs underneath him, only to apply his weight too early and land spread eagle on the sidewalk, his head hitting with a sharp crack. Whatever had hit him from behind then leaped onto his chest and stomach, forcing the air out of his lungs again. So, now breathless and with his ears ringing, Jeremy squinted open an eye, having shut them on contact with the sidewalk, to see what the heck had hit him.
Whatever he’d prepared himself for, it wasn’t this. The moon shone down over the top of two pointed ears, the rest of the face, which should have been in shadow, was illuminated by a pair of glowing yellow eyes, showing a long muzzle filled with gleaming white fangs. The eyes themselves were quite out of the ordinary, for, other than the fact they were actually glowing, they lacked pupils, yet he could somehow tell that they were focused completely on him. A low growl uttered from the creature’s throat, followed by a yelp from Jeremy as sharp pain suddenly sprang from his shoulders. Gritting his teeth, he lifted his head to see two paws–could they be called paws?–resting on his shoulders, long sharp claws dug into, and through, his vest and shirt. His breath caught in his throat as he looked back up at the creature’s face, now seeing the hunger that was held in those yellow eyes. It was all he could do to keep from pissing himself right then and there.
The beast stayed that way for a few moments, sitting on his chest, saliva dripping from its fangs onto his face, staring into his eyes with that hungry stare. The extra time, and the drool dropping in his face, allowed Jeremy time to shift from fear to anger. There was no way he was gonna be taken down by some stupid overgrown mutt. He felt the ground for his pocket knife, wincing at the pain it caused in his shoulder, only to realize he must have dropped it when he’d first fallen; no help there. Without a weapon, his only choice was to fight bare-fisted, or run away… Glancing back toward those teeth again, he decided running was probably the best choice. But he needed to get out from under this thing first. Trying his best to block out the pain it caused, he shifted back and forth, trying to get some leverage to throw the beast off of him.
The sound that came from the creature startled him enough to make him stop. It was almost as if the thing was laughing at him, its growls separated by hard whiffs of air. Then, without more warning than a small pause in its chuckling, it yanked its claws from his shoulders, drawing a sharp gasp from its victim, and drove its teeth down into the now open left shoulder. Jeremy screamed, eyes snapping open and adrenaline being released into his body as long forgotten survival instinct kicked in. He swung his right fist up and connected with the side of the beast’s skull, dazing it long enough to then kick up with his knee and push it off of him, yelling in pain as the teeth were removed from his shoulder.
Once he was free from its grasp, Jeremy leaped to his feet and took off back the way he’d come. He glanced back over his shoulder, but saw no sign of being followed; in fact, there was no sign of the wolf at all. His left shoulder throbbed, blood dotting where his orange vest didn’t cover, and his breath was becoming ragged as the buildings passed by in a blur. Only a couple minutes later he was back at the construction site, but its wooden fencing wasn’t much of an obstacle and within a couple moments he was up and over. The building was only in its steel skeleton phase, so it wouldn’t provide much of a hiding place in itself, but he figured higher ground would be better to see the approach of the creature, so he continued his run, sprinting up the steps two at a time until he was on the third story. From there he could see the entire lighted perimeter of the site, and down into the belly of the building as well, the moonlight illuminating everything quite well. Leaning against the corner pillar, he stared out at where he’d just run from, squinting so even the tiniest flicker of movement wouldn’t go unnoticed…but all was still. No lights flickered, no shadows moved, not even a breeze stirred the air. It seemed he was safe.
He let out a long sigh, though his heartbeat and breathing were still quite fast, and slid down to sit astride the steel beam he’d run out on. After swaying dangerously to one side, though, he quickly scrambled over to the floored section of the story. There, he laid down on his back and attempted to catch his breath. A thousand questions and thoughts rattled around in his mind: what was that thing; it looked like some sort of wolf; but it couldn’t have been a wolf, the paws were…well, wrong; yeah, what was up with those paws; they almost looked like they had fingers; and those teeth; dang those hurt; my shoulder’s killing me; those guys’ll pay for this; crud, I didn’t get the magazine; if they hold this against me; no, I nearly got myself killed for them; I’m gonna kill whoever came up with that dare; who did come up with that dare; was it Fred; who the heck cares; I’ll kill ‘em all if they hold this against me; I’ll kill ‘em all for this; I’ll kill ‘em all…
As his anger increased, so did his heartbeat, and he slowly sat up and got to his feet, just about ready to act on his strangely violent impulses, when his thoughts suddenly stopped altogether, one large wave of pain emanating from his shoulder. Well, to say that his thoughts stopped completely is untrue; they were merely diverted and condensed down to two distinct thoughts. First: OW! Dang blasted shoulder!!! And second: wow that’s a pretty moon…
His heartbeat suddenly sped even faster than before, his lungs following suit. The pain, which had started in his shoulder, now spread throughout his body, causing him to double over, clutching his arms across his chest, fingernails digging into skin, though they quickly released their hold as he whipped them out in front of him, watching as his nails lengthened and rounded themselves into tipped claws. The pain momentarily redirected to his mouth, where his clenched teeth grew and sharpened, making it so his lips could no longer enclose their gleaming white surfaces. Pressure built up in his shoes, their laces and stitches stretching until they gave way to two enormous clawed paws, his heels stretching back to form another joint in his legs. The hair on his head was quickly replaced by thick black fur, which then spread down his back and soon covered the rest of his body. He raised his hands up to his ears, which were ringing now worse than ever, and followed them as they became pointed and moved to rest on the top of his skull. A loud ripping sound started emanating from his back, though it soon sounded all over as more and more fur was revealed through his tightening clothing, though he was more focused on the crunching sound he could hear his bones making as his shoulders expanded and arms lengthened to match his legs.
A garbled yell emerged from his throat when his hands began to grow, similarly to his feet but now quite visible, the fingers bending and melding together from tip to base to form pads, then meeting the floor as his hind legs snapped forward to share the weight between front and back. What was left of his pants suddenly exploded outward, as a long black tail shot from his hind region, earning a distorted curse. Now fully devoid of clothing, the last squishes and cracks were easily audible as his organs and bones performed some final shifting. The last bit of humanity left was his face, but that changed easily enough as his nose and top lip stretched forward, joining together in a muzzle, soon followed and met by his jaw. Turning his gaze up to the heavens once more, his eyes glowed a bright yellow, losing their pupils, as they beheld the full moon. An unearthly howl ripped itself from his chest, long and drawn out, as if all the pain in the world could be conveyed in that one sound.
As the cry faded off into the city, it was answered with another not too far away.
Anywho, I'm going to stop yapping so you can start reading. Enjoy!
Out After Dark
By Stormywolf
By Stormywolf
This was probably the stupidest thing he’d ever done. Staying out this late for a bet, and a five dollar bet at that, wasn’t worth what could happen to a guy out here. But, with his hands stuffed in his pockets, the right clutching a small Swiss-Army knife, Jeremy walked slowly along the fenced construction site. Every now and again his head would snap around to look over his shoulder, only to find nothing but a soft breeze blowing a tin can or a leafy twig. He spat on the sidewalk, annoyed at his jumpiness, and continued on. After a while, once his neck was thoroughly tweaked and his mouth was beginning to run dry, he had to resign himself to keeping his face forward. His eyes looked like they were spinning in his head, the way they darted this way and that, but at least he didn’t look like a complete fool twisting around every two seconds.
The streetlights were spaced too far apart, for there were pretty good sized gaps of darkness between the lit halos. Then again, no one was normally out this late to care; even the police had stopped patrolling two hours ago. It was a wonder the city decided to keep them running at all. Jeremy shook his head at the amount of money and energy the city was wasting, even though right then he was thankful for the small amount of protection the light offered. The moon was also helping out quite a bit that night, shining down in its fullest form.
The attacks had started a few years ago: people’s throats slashed; limbs ripped off and picked clean to the bone; one had his guts ripped out and half-gone; their faces all frozen in ghastly expressions of what could only be seen as fear. The attacks only happened at night and were discovered the next morning. There were never any witnesses, no fingerprints, no weapons left behind or even matching the marks on the victims. Police had released a bit of information to the public, names, locations, but the attacks continued just as they had been. It wasn’t until two months later that they launched their sting effort.
A shiver ran up his spine just thinking about it. Nearly the entire police department had been involved, small groups setting up around town, singling out one or two people to play the bait… The next morning the full story was released in every newspaper and broadcast; graphic pictures showing ten different locations all bathed in blood; no survivors from any one of them; grieving families called to the scene… Jeremy had wanted to watch Saturday morning cartoons.
After that night no one stayed out past sundown. The cops issuing the statement that with the diminished numbers they would have to stop patrols after midnight, though everyone knew the real reason. Everything had shifted forward so that there would be no need to commute after sunset; stores closed at 8:00, 7:00 during the winter; school started at 6:00 and went ‘til 3:00 so Fridays could be reserved for football games, school socials, or other events; even the local TV station had shifted its prime-time programming up to 6:00 to try and draw folks home sooner. While there wasn’t an enforced curfew, it was about like walking up to a guillotine to step out your front door after 9:00.
And here was Jeremy, tiptoeing through the middle of town dressed in a reflective orange vest, white t-shirt, and light blue jeans, out to fetch a magazine. It had been a stupid dare his buddies had set up: sneak over to Jerry’s newsstand and bring back that copy of last month’s Playboy sitting front-row-center. It had to be tonight, else the magazine might sell, and he had to wear the vest so they could keep watch for him if he chickened out and came back early. He wanted to strangle Greg for keeping this stupid vest from his job–it was his way at getting back at “the man” for firing him–but had put it on and walked out the door. It was one thing to chicken out after you’d left, it was another not to take the dare, which resulted in immediate and complete silent treatment for the next month, and he was counting on Rick for those test answers next week. Yeah, it was stupid, but what were a few bruises for the sake of friendship, right?
There hadn’t been any attacks in a while, about a year now, so there was a chance that whoever was doing it had moved on, or so Jeremy hoped. He was only a couple blocks from the stand and so far so good, but he kept his guard up, his pocketknife blade already drawn. Looking ahead, there wasn’t anything between here and there, the lights were all lit, and there weren’t even any alleyways leading off the main street. The only thing he had to worry about was that last corner…and the entire trip back. His small ounce of pride in his accomplishment faded, but he did quicken his stride, the halfway point now in sight.
He was only a block away when the street light ahead of him suddenly went out. He jumped back a step, whipping out his blade and jabbing it forward toward an invisible attacker. Then, realizing it was nothing more than a burnt-out bulb, not surprising in a city with no night-life, he kicked the ground and jammed his hands back into his pockets. “Agh! What'd I do that for?!” he yelled, yanking his knife back out, a small bit of blood coating the blade. Muttering a few more curses, he snapped the pocketknife shut and tossed it into his left hand, using his right to feel where the blade had stabbed through his pocket. The cut seemed pretty shallow, but he did notice a circle of red beginning to form on the light blue denim, just below where his pocket ended. “Great. Just perfect. They’d better be paying for a new set of jeans too.”
Finally figuring he’d be ok to continue, he turned his attention back to the darkened street corner ahead of him. Though a large part of him was all for turning back, the rest of him reasoned it wasn’t all that far to the next one, and the moon was lighting the area pretty well, so there was really no good excuse to turn back now. Besides, he wasn’t really all that much safer in the light than not. Taking a deep breath, Jeremy started forward; slowly at first, as if the light from the lamp was pulling him back; then slowly faster and faster, wanting the yellow glow from the light ahead to offer its sanctuary.
He ran by the corner of the building, off the sidewalk, across the asphalt of the street, only to slip on the curb on the other side and skid to a stop on his hands and knees. As if the self-inflicted wound in his leg wasn’t bad enough, now he had both knees ripped and small pebbles imbedded in his hands. He groaned and turned over, sitting himself up on the curb to pick the rocks from his hands and swear some more at his increasingly damaged jeans. The fall had wiped the fear from his mind, and all thoughts were once more on the task of cleaning himself up. Well, that and cursing at each person or thing that could have been responsible for this happening. For a preacher’s son, Jeremy did have a colorful vocabulary.
He finally managed to pry the last pebble from his left hand when he was knocked forward from behind, the air rushing from his lungs as he was forced to double over, his nose nearly touching the asphalt. On the rebound, he tried to bend his knees and get his legs underneath him, only to apply his weight too early and land spread eagle on the sidewalk, his head hitting with a sharp crack. Whatever had hit him from behind then leaped onto his chest and stomach, forcing the air out of his lungs again. So, now breathless and with his ears ringing, Jeremy squinted open an eye, having shut them on contact with the sidewalk, to see what the heck had hit him.
Whatever he’d prepared himself for, it wasn’t this. The moon shone down over the top of two pointed ears, the rest of the face, which should have been in shadow, was illuminated by a pair of glowing yellow eyes, showing a long muzzle filled with gleaming white fangs. The eyes themselves were quite out of the ordinary, for, other than the fact they were actually glowing, they lacked pupils, yet he could somehow tell that they were focused completely on him. A low growl uttered from the creature’s throat, followed by a yelp from Jeremy as sharp pain suddenly sprang from his shoulders. Gritting his teeth, he lifted his head to see two paws–could they be called paws?–resting on his shoulders, long sharp claws dug into, and through, his vest and shirt. His breath caught in his throat as he looked back up at the creature’s face, now seeing the hunger that was held in those yellow eyes. It was all he could do to keep from pissing himself right then and there.
The beast stayed that way for a few moments, sitting on his chest, saliva dripping from its fangs onto his face, staring into his eyes with that hungry stare. The extra time, and the drool dropping in his face, allowed Jeremy time to shift from fear to anger. There was no way he was gonna be taken down by some stupid overgrown mutt. He felt the ground for his pocket knife, wincing at the pain it caused in his shoulder, only to realize he must have dropped it when he’d first fallen; no help there. Without a weapon, his only choice was to fight bare-fisted, or run away… Glancing back toward those teeth again, he decided running was probably the best choice. But he needed to get out from under this thing first. Trying his best to block out the pain it caused, he shifted back and forth, trying to get some leverage to throw the beast off of him.
The sound that came from the creature startled him enough to make him stop. It was almost as if the thing was laughing at him, its growls separated by hard whiffs of air. Then, without more warning than a small pause in its chuckling, it yanked its claws from his shoulders, drawing a sharp gasp from its victim, and drove its teeth down into the now open left shoulder. Jeremy screamed, eyes snapping open and adrenaline being released into his body as long forgotten survival instinct kicked in. He swung his right fist up and connected with the side of the beast’s skull, dazing it long enough to then kick up with his knee and push it off of him, yelling in pain as the teeth were removed from his shoulder.
Once he was free from its grasp, Jeremy leaped to his feet and took off back the way he’d come. He glanced back over his shoulder, but saw no sign of being followed; in fact, there was no sign of the wolf at all. His left shoulder throbbed, blood dotting where his orange vest didn’t cover, and his breath was becoming ragged as the buildings passed by in a blur. Only a couple minutes later he was back at the construction site, but its wooden fencing wasn’t much of an obstacle and within a couple moments he was up and over. The building was only in its steel skeleton phase, so it wouldn’t provide much of a hiding place in itself, but he figured higher ground would be better to see the approach of the creature, so he continued his run, sprinting up the steps two at a time until he was on the third story. From there he could see the entire lighted perimeter of the site, and down into the belly of the building as well, the moonlight illuminating everything quite well. Leaning against the corner pillar, he stared out at where he’d just run from, squinting so even the tiniest flicker of movement wouldn’t go unnoticed…but all was still. No lights flickered, no shadows moved, not even a breeze stirred the air. It seemed he was safe.
He let out a long sigh, though his heartbeat and breathing were still quite fast, and slid down to sit astride the steel beam he’d run out on. After swaying dangerously to one side, though, he quickly scrambled over to the floored section of the story. There, he laid down on his back and attempted to catch his breath. A thousand questions and thoughts rattled around in his mind: what was that thing; it looked like some sort of wolf; but it couldn’t have been a wolf, the paws were…well, wrong; yeah, what was up with those paws; they almost looked like they had fingers; and those teeth; dang those hurt; my shoulder’s killing me; those guys’ll pay for this; crud, I didn’t get the magazine; if they hold this against me; no, I nearly got myself killed for them; I’m gonna kill whoever came up with that dare; who did come up with that dare; was it Fred; who the heck cares; I’ll kill ‘em all if they hold this against me; I’ll kill ‘em all for this; I’ll kill ‘em all…
As his anger increased, so did his heartbeat, and he slowly sat up and got to his feet, just about ready to act on his strangely violent impulses, when his thoughts suddenly stopped altogether, one large wave of pain emanating from his shoulder. Well, to say that his thoughts stopped completely is untrue; they were merely diverted and condensed down to two distinct thoughts. First: OW! Dang blasted shoulder!!! And second: wow that’s a pretty moon…
His heartbeat suddenly sped even faster than before, his lungs following suit. The pain, which had started in his shoulder, now spread throughout his body, causing him to double over, clutching his arms across his chest, fingernails digging into skin, though they quickly released their hold as he whipped them out in front of him, watching as his nails lengthened and rounded themselves into tipped claws. The pain momentarily redirected to his mouth, where his clenched teeth grew and sharpened, making it so his lips could no longer enclose their gleaming white surfaces. Pressure built up in his shoes, their laces and stitches stretching until they gave way to two enormous clawed paws, his heels stretching back to form another joint in his legs. The hair on his head was quickly replaced by thick black fur, which then spread down his back and soon covered the rest of his body. He raised his hands up to his ears, which were ringing now worse than ever, and followed them as they became pointed and moved to rest on the top of his skull. A loud ripping sound started emanating from his back, though it soon sounded all over as more and more fur was revealed through his tightening clothing, though he was more focused on the crunching sound he could hear his bones making as his shoulders expanded and arms lengthened to match his legs.
A garbled yell emerged from his throat when his hands began to grow, similarly to his feet but now quite visible, the fingers bending and melding together from tip to base to form pads, then meeting the floor as his hind legs snapped forward to share the weight between front and back. What was left of his pants suddenly exploded outward, as a long black tail shot from his hind region, earning a distorted curse. Now fully devoid of clothing, the last squishes and cracks were easily audible as his organs and bones performed some final shifting. The last bit of humanity left was his face, but that changed easily enough as his nose and top lip stretched forward, joining together in a muzzle, soon followed and met by his jaw. Turning his gaze up to the heavens once more, his eyes glowed a bright yellow, losing their pupils, as they beheld the full moon. An unearthly howl ripped itself from his chest, long and drawn out, as if all the pain in the world could be conveyed in that one sound.
As the cry faded off into the city, it was answered with another not too far away.
