Hellhound 101

I'm sorry you've been thrust into a world of no explanation so quickly. I've little time, so I shall inform you of the basics:

 

Lanky, mangy, rank-

flea ridden, parasite furred-

tinted rusty green by mold

or almost bleached.

 

The stench arrives before it does-

and it's just one of them this time-

just wait 'til you see a pack of the beasts.

Like a flock of scarab beetles swarming in waves.

 

A clump of dead hair and dirt on almost gracefully long legs-

it's all leg-

they don't seem formidable at a distance;

they're made to catch things, you know,

and they're damn well good at it.

 

Just the howling will drive a man to claw at his ears.

They don't howl like wolves, or dogs, or cats, or bears, or even tortured men.

It's amplified and sounds synthesized-it comes from all sides at once and just one sounds like a hundred of 'em, like some devil choir of sorts.

It's like the wind whistling before a storm-it's real high-frequency stuff.

The hissing of a crocodile, the shriek of a pig being killed, the screams of elk plus a little whale sounds.

All coming out of an old radio so there's lots of distortion and static.

That's 'cause they're between worlds and something like sound straddles the two.

 

Some are bog creatures-

swamped, dripping foul rancour;

they'll have moss and algae and stuff dripping off them.

They're the second-most vile smelling.

The smell is like driving behind a garbage truck.

Others live in sand

so it seems they are a dried-out carcass of a camel or something until you see the eyes open.

They just smell like dirt.

There are others up in the Northern places that sleep until a blizzard hits

and they wander around, picking up stray people who've managed to get themselves lost.

There's a lot in the older parts of Eastern Europe where they're remembered-

the people there still know they exist and keep themselves safe by taking the proper measures.

And the foulest of all are the ones that follow death.

They lurk in war-zones, mass homicides, open graves-

they smell out decay because they are decaying.

I reckon they eat the stuff to keep themselves regenerating or some such.

 

Now eyes vary.

I don't think they have different species-

it's just like people.

You've got ones with eyes reflecting hell itself,

eerie green eyes, almost white,

entirely black,

bloodshot to a dark burgandy or orange.

White with yellow veins.

They don't have pupils, so don't let that creep you out.

Just like a cat's eyes at night.

 

Now they're fast.

They're tall and limber and I don't know how many hundreds of pounds of pressure those jaws have.

Think the size of a pony, but without all that belly-

and a large neck, almost a hump-

like a hyena,

combined with a massive head that seems too big for the body.

They don't have much as far as abdomins-legs supporting a giant neck with a giant head.

Like the t-rex on that dinosaur movie.

Lean, mean, eating machine.

 

They can and will easily outrun you.

Playing dead usually won't work because they scavenge just as much, if not more, than killing.

And they take your souls and whatnot.

Don't improve your situation much.

My advice: combine old history with new technology.

You see it in movies all the time.

Read up on the occult through the ages and combine that with guns, ammo, and cars.

 

You've been thrown into this and the world seems like a topsy-turvy fairytale nightmare gone wrong.

But you can't go back now.

There are loads of people like you.

They'll find you-you learn things and make references and little tricks and stuff to know each other.

Learn from the best hunters.

Give anything a try.

 

Wish I had more time to explain, but they're coming for me and I've spent my life hunting them.

I'm 62.

Not too old, but I've seen more than most do.

I'm tired.

I'm ready.

They really want to get me-oh, they remember me.

I been giving them grief since I was your age.

And they're happy to take me and I'm happy to go.

But my soul will remain untouched and go to wherever it is the hounds don't want to go because I've lived a good, though more violent then most, life.

It's the criminals they tend to go after, especially the ones what are trying to redeem themselves, just so you know.

 

Well, it's been nice not knowing you.

Sincerely,

Tobias Spoon.