The Hounds
It was night.
Normally such a night would have me filled me with ease, as the sun bites my flesh and stings my eyes.
But tonight was different my many margins, the unnatural chill being the least of my fears.
How was it possible, that there should be no stars in the velvet black space above us? No clouds, no wind, no animals. Just cold damned air, and a very lonely moon.
I collected myself, having no recollection of what, if anything had transpired. To my amusement, i came to realize i had been laying on the front lawn of my home. But there was no light, the same could be said for every house on the street, and indeed, from this vantage, the entire city was blacked out.
I sauntered up the frail wooden steps, once upon a time they could have dealt with the weight of a refrigerator and two delivery men, but today they looked as if they could barley support my frame.
I tried the doorknob, understandably locked. So I fetched my keys from my pants pocket, and fumbled around trying to feel for the right key, the moon provided very little illumination. The key was set in the lock, and as I twisted, I caught a glimpse of empty white eyes staring at me. I relocked the door and backed away slowly.
to the side of the house, the figure of a wolfhound emerged, but it glistened in the moonlight for reasons I could not discern.
I made my way down the stair and halted at the bottom, stopped dead in my tracks by another pair of eyes, coming out of the adjoining neighbour?s house.
These creatures where large and muscular, and created dreaded anxiety in my bones. My hands shook, and with all that I could muster, I ran from them, for their intent was plain to see. They followed me with ease, as I ran more and more hounds became visible, they followed me not for the hunt, but for the sport. They intended to toy with me in this way.
I ran towards the bottom of the hill my street lay on, but as I descended, I became exhausted; no amount of adrenaline could save me now.
They stood before me, slowly circling me, there were 10 that I could readily see, but I am sure there were more.
My blood ran cold as one lunged at me, the features of these beasts where never more apparent. Their bodies were covered in black muscle covered in a sticky black fluid, presumably once blood, and their faces where covered in a mask of stretched, ill-fitting skin.
It was all I could do to strike the animal in the side of the face to escape its jaws. The others cackled like hyenas, mocking the failed attempt upon my life.
Then, down the hill came a pair of lights, headlights of a truck, the horn blared and the visage of the wolfhounds where more visible, and ever so much more gruesome. The trucks owner ploughed through part of the pack, and set upon me the passenger side of the cab. The door swung open, and without hesitance, I leapt in and slammed the door behind me. The hounds who had been injured crackled and contorted back into shape. The robust man driving, whose gut reached the steering wheel passed me a shotgun, "here" was all he said, and I knew what he wanted. He drove away from the scene, full tilt, and I hung out the window and fired at any hound that seemed to come close. The scattered shot seemed to do nothing to them. "Try the deer slug" he popped open the glove compartment, and shells poured out, the box had fallen apart from age. I fumbled around, picking out which was bird shot and which was a slug, my anxiety screamed at me as I loaded the gun, and leaned out the window enough to sight a wolf and fire.
The matter mess of brain matter, muscle, sinew and flesh burned into my memory. It had frightened me, But the hounds, they stopped to investigate what had been done to their ally. What disturbed me more, was my last thing I could remember for the next little while, was that dog corpse with no head standing up.
The man who had aided me brought me to his abode, thinking it to be safer than anywhere else at the moment. He proceeded to scoop the shells off the floor of the truck cab once I had stepped out. He loaded his rifle, as an elder woman; presumably his wife exited the abode. She hugged and kissed him, and came over to me, to hug a stranger, happy only to know there were other people still alive.
That night they offered me the safety of their home. They had a fire going, where they had been cooking their food, and huddled next to, to keep warm.
The night was quiet, I could hardly sleep, and unsure I wanted too.
So quiet that you could hear the branches of the trees knock together in the breeze.
My blood ran cold; there was no breeze tonight, no wind. I jumped up and headed to the living room where the fire was, to the porch where I grabbed a shovel and peeked out the door window to see if I could see anything.
Nothing moved, not even the tree branches I had just feared I heard.
I held the shovel as tight as I returned to the living room, when the beast I had feared burst in through the window. It glared at me with those white eyes. It was a massive wolf, with a thick shaggy coat, bloody markings on its face, and a deep thunderous growl that shook my core.
Instinctively I struck it with the end of the shovel and started to circle and strike it, it swiped at me, clawing my legs arms and chest. Blood dribbled from my wounds before I finally got a clear strike, and I thrust the tip of the shovel into its spine, severing its neck. I kept hacking and jabbing at it with my shovel determined to kill it. When the head came loose and rolled from the body, my arms where covered in its blood.
The beasts body shrunk and shrivelled up into something no smaller then a weasel.
I dropped the shovel and started to cry, my hands shook and I clutched the blood soaked rug under me. The man and his wife had watched, in his hand was his rifle, he had a confused look on his face. Was I something to be feared, or was I something to be praised.
They gave me some water to wash the blood off, and gave me new clothes that should fit.
The man was hacking the wolf's body up and tossing it in the fireplace to burn it. Feeling that nothing should be left of the vile beast.
Whether feeling suicidal, or invulnerable, I stepped outside into the biting chill of this never ending night. I was greeted by a pack of the skinless white eyed beasts, and in a fashion reserved for royalty, they bowed before me, and my blood ran cold...