Vukodlac: Running

A short story about a man that finds himself running for his life.

At four after midnight, the man was running through the streets. Any onlooker that might've somehow noticed him at that hour would find it unclear why he was running. Whatever the insomniac onlooker might think, the truth was this: the man was running from something.

At first, the man had assumed he was running from someone. The thing certainly had the shape of a human when it had seen the man.

It was about eleven forty-five when the man, drunkenly meandering through alleys on his way home from a bar, had seen the thing. It looked like a tall, disgustingly pale man with long hair darker than the night air. At the thing's feet was a girl, probably somewhere in the middle of her high school years, with the frozen expression of a person who had died in utter terror. The man, shocked by the scene, did not move until the thing turned towards him and smiled, licking a little crimson liquid from its lips as it eyed the man. Then the man ran for his life.

As the man ran, he had looked back a few times. For the most part, he saw only the darkness of midnight, but once he had seen the shadow of a massive canine rapidly lumbering past a street light. With renewed terror, the man continued running, and four minutes after midnight, he reached the street of his home. Coming to his front yard, he paused for a moment to look back.

That's when the thing caught him.

Up close, the gargantuan canine made its shadow look like a baby. It was a revolting creature, with bright red eyes that had no iris and a strangely curved snout reminiscent of a crescent moon. The thing's hide was the same black as the pale man's hair, and its face almost appeared to be smiling at the man's predicament.

It jumped on the man, forcing him to the ground with a snap that suggested that the man had broken bones. The thing bit into the man's arms with teeth sharper than any dog's, and cut into the man's veins. As the man screamed, he was sure he saw the thing smile.

It began to suck the blood out from the punctured veins, ignoring the man's tortured cries. As the thing guzzled on the man's blood, it began to change. The thing's fur fell out, revealing the sickly pale skin of a corpse. Its tail shrunk until it was nothing. The thing's face seemed to remold itself, bones cracking apart and into new positions, its snout shrinking back, until finally the thing's transformation was complete.

When the thing released his arm, which now had no feeling and appeared purple, the man saw a demonic face, with no hair at all, bright red eyes, and a fanged smile that dripped the man's own blood.

The man let out one more scream before the thing bit into his neck and drained his body of every last drop of blood.

The thing stood up, its face now as smooth as any humans, his eyes a pretty blue, and he had grown locks of long black hair. With an atmosphere of carelessness about it, the thing grabbed the man by his ankles, and as it dragged him inside his own home, the thing whistled.

Author's Note

In posting this, my hope is that I'll learn something, so any critique you have would be great. Thanks!

Reviews

[JBudak]

I'd like to know more about the victim. What's his name? What thoughts were going through his head as he ran? What about when he was caught? And the creature? What's his story? It's he a vampire, a demon, a werewolf? How'd he come to be this way? How does he feel about it? Is he pure evil or does he feel remorse when he kills? It's a great start to what could really turn into an intriguing and gripping story. :)

[Falkon]

Thanks for the review. I hadn't really thought about a lot of the questions you asked when I was writing this, but I'll definitely delve a little deeper with the story. Thanks again!

[JBudak]

I can imagine this turning into a great intense thriller, with a hero (or team of heroes, even) hot on the bears tail trying to catch him. Keep me posted with your updates!

[JBudak]

beast's, not bears. Silly phone. haha!

[Falkon]

Definitely.