A Mission
Authors Note: This story was Beta Read by the wonderful KateTheMarten
Cool wind blew unforgiving against my white, unprotected fur. My white ears and grey tail becoming numb with cold. Knowing I would not last long in this frigid tundra, I forced my body to press on, not knowing the dangers that lay ahead of me.
************************************************************************************* Waking up to a muzzle full of snow is never a pleasant event, especially when it is that light powdery stuff that sticks like no tomorrow. Thus I awoke the morning after. At least, I thought it was the morning after.
Deciding that staying here and dying among the snow drifts was not the best of plans, I stood up slowly and shakily from a mixture of cold and weakness. I reached up to my nose to brush off the snow that sat atop my white muzzle. Looking down, I could see snow drifting down onto my paws.
As I forced my aching legs to resume their march my muscles screamed in protest, pleading with my mind to rest. For once I listened to their cries, and slowed the pace. But not much; I still had a long way to go.
As I continued I thought back to my mission. FLASHBACK.
"So you know what you must do, right my child?" The Alpha of my pack asked.
"Yes. I must go out with the hunting party and collect as many rabbits and other creatures as I can" I told the Alpha.
"Take heed young one, do not lose sight of your pack mates. Winter is approaching more quickly then it may seem" He said.
"I understand"
END FLASHBACK.
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"It's getting late." I told myself as I scanned the landscape ahead of me. Not finding shelter tonight would surely be disastrous. Not a single detail escaped my wolven eyes. After deciding that no suitable cover was around I got to work creating some.
Carefully digging under the snow, I started on the masterpiece that would be my shelter for the night. After a little bit of work I had a hole approximately three feet deep which sloped downwards for ease of exit.
Thankfully, the snow was starting to let up. This allowed me to push thoughts of being buried alive in the night out of my head. I crawled inside my temporary home and began breathing on the walls of snow around me; in hopes of having them melt slightly and refreeze, thus creating a stronger shell to sleep in. Finally my task was done, and I had a place to lie down in without the danger of freezing to death. Satisfied, I let sleep take me into its dark, velvety embrace.
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Waking up somewhere you did not fall asleep is certainly not a pleasing or likeable experience. It is for that reason that, as I awoke with a start, a howl of terror nearly ripped from my throat. The only comfort that I could take from my current situation was that I was no longer so cold. However, after one glance around the room, even that small consolation fled from my soul like a bird from a tree on fire.
All manner of vile and nasty looking objects surround me. From cauldrons to voodoo dolls, which were suspended on chains over unrecognizable fluid, the scene my eyes encountered looked like something out of Salem from the old days.
Checking myself over for injuries, I looked down at my grey-white fur. I received quite a shock when I realized that, not only was I completely unscathed, but my fur was completely dry too. I stood shakily on all four paws and was about to walk forward when I realized what I was standing on. It was some kind of ceremonial stone slab or alter. Demonic runes were engraved deeply into the obsidian, and some of them looked as if they had some type of liquid crusted onto them. Upon closer inspection this substance bore a striking resemblance to blood.
"I had better go before I get to know just what this room is for!" I said aloud, my voice reverberating against the walls of the otherwise empty room.
As if summoned by my words, an ornately carved door appeared in the farthest stone wall. To my surprise, the door then opened with an ominous creek, revealing an anthropomorphic otter. The otter wore an unremarkable black, hooded cloak that hid most of his face but, at a second glance, there were several sinister and occult runes stitched into the fabric of the garment.
The strange mammal strolled through the door and was soon followed by various other furs, from wolves to bears to turtles, who began to circle around me.
"Who are you!?" I asked of the group.
"The sacrifice speaks! Muzzle and cuff it immediately." The circle chanted in unison.
"Like hell any of you bitches are gonna cuff OR muzzle me!" I retorted, slipping into a New-Yorker accent as I said the words, a result of both anger and fear.
Before any of the furs surrounding me could break off and detain me, I vaulted from my position on what I could now confirm was an alter and lunged at the otter that had taken up A position directly in front of me. Blood spurted like jets into my mouth from the new gaping wound in the shoulder of the unsuspecting otter. My teeth sank deeper and deeper into the muscle tissue of the poor fur, and finally I twisted my powerful neck muscles to dislocate his shoulder. Letting the fur out of his misery, I let go of his now utterly decimated shoulder and took a chunk out of his neck. The otter choked on his own blood until he was dead.
His death shook the others out of their shocked stupor; I had to make a jump to the left followed by a quick step to the right to avoid the charging cultists. Quickly figuring out that staying here would be a colossally bad idea, I made a break for the, surprisingly, still open door.
The door led out into a hallway lined by medieval torches that hung in metal mesh brackets on the cold stone wall. Unfortunately they did a terrible job of lighting the corridor. Taking a chance and glancing behind me, I saw a Turtle wielding a spiked mace rushing after me. Alarmed, I scampered down the narrow passageway.
**** After about five minutes of dashing almost blindly, I came across an open door. I knew that I shouldn't have, but somehow I just couldn't resist, so I waltzed up to the door and poked my snout through the open passageway.
What I found was a circle of wolves, all similarly robed, chanting at a strange diagram on the floor. To my surprise, over the diagram a portal opened and through it I could see the familiar patterns in the trees, this must be my homeland! Streams crisscrossed through the land like snakes in a jungle. The furs continued to chant in what I could only assume was Latten,
"Ianua patefacio custodiunt." The phrase was unknown to me but sounded like something that should not be interrupted.
While I sat there contemplating, I heard heavy pawfalls from behind me and realized that my time was up. I decided to chance it instead of fighting and bolted into the room, making a dash for the portal. Time seemed to slow down as I surged paw over paw to reach the portal as fast as I could.
From the doorway I heard a shout: "Close the portal!"
The chanters then began to say something different, " Porta haec clausa usque."
They recited it faster and faster, and it began to blur together. "Turn it off already!" I heard from behind me one last time as I launched up off the stone floor towards the portal.
"Qui propter Deum ad limina licere!"
The phrase was yelled in unison, and just as I thought I was safe, the portal cut out.
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My first impression was that everything was all right. The scenery before me was gorgeous: trees reaching to the sky, part of a forest that stretched as far as the eye could see from my mountain-top like view. However, when I tried standing up, I realized something was missing. Mainly, the parts of, my body below my midsection. "I must have been cut in half by the portal," I thought to myself. My brain raced with half-formed thoughts of my mission that would now go uncompleted, and then abruptly halted as I left the world of the living. After all, the dead have no use for thoughts.