Sickness and Death

Short story I wrote. May disturb some audiences.

Sickness and Death

 Death is but a mere part of life.

       How you die is up to you, however...

The sun was high in the sky, staring hotly at anything it could see. Fragile wind swayed the leaves underfoot�"not strong enough to move anything bigger than a fist. The Autumn light had engulfed all plants in a heavy layer, staining anything it hit, of which was of both orange and yellow. Shadows ceased to exist; everything was bright. Sun hot. Forest still. Trees were stripped bare, sending dispatched leaves scattered across the mossy floor, almost as if the season disliked them. They were untouched and fresh: yet to be pounded into the ground. They were young.

A cat�"dark as a shadow�"stood out oddly from the scenery. He was crouched beneath one of the massive giants, tail level with his head. A ragged, red collar, coiled tightly around his neck, indicated that he was tamed by humans. The collar was torn and battered where presumable trial and error had occurred before. It read ‘Haamu’, which was engraved in the collar itself. Below it, it read in a smaller size: ‘wraith’. He was partially leaning on his haunches, but mostly lying parallel to the forest floor. His rounded, orb-like scarlet eyes were focused on something ahead, something almost unseen.

Haamu’s pupils were dilated so they were both full eclipses. They hardly gave way to the purple behind them. Placing a paw lightly forward, it was clear what this cat was watching: a rabbit. A plump rabbit. Its pelt was umber colored and very thick. Completing the beautiful animal was its eyes�"golden�"like the sun. Haamu struggled to hold his excitement and had to stop himself from making noise. The rabbit drew itself up so it was sitting on its hind legs and awkwardly groomed its chest fur. Then, the rabbit turned so its head was facing directly toward the cat. Looking, but not seeing. Obviously unaware, but still cautious, it made its way around the leaf piles to a grassy patch, not far from the tree in which Haamu hid beneath.

He flexed his claws, imagining the delightful moment when he’d rake them through the rabbit’s throat. This cat was heartless: he hunts for sport. Haamu watched as the rabbit carefully plucked a small berry from a small tree. The berry was blue, like the ocean, and ripe as ever. Half leaping, half crawling to the bush where it had originated, the rabbit slipped its nose inside, sniffed twice, then parting it to reveal a small den. Haamu swiped his tongue over his lips.

Inside were its kits. One. Two. Thre�"strange, only two, there should be more. These two were probably the only surviving. The weather, perhaps, may have killed the others, or maybe a fox. Nevertheless, two kits. The rabbit lay the berry close to them. They crawled over to it sniffing wildly. Sure enough, this cat couldn’t handle himself. He was kneading restlessly with his paws. His mouth drooled. He couldn’t wait any longer, but striking now would be a mistake. However, this cat wasn’t aware about that.

He wasn’t hungry, he just felt the urge to kill it; satisfy his own feelings. Silently, he circled the bush he could get at a good angle. Haamu watched the rabbit, only able to see it through the branches of dead bracken. His heart ached to run. He imagined killing this rabbit and sinking his teeth into its neck. His fur bristled in excitement. The thought had wavered him, and he ungracefully landed a paw heavily on a stick, cracking it to pieces.

Wide-eyed, the rabbit turned in fear and stood there, frozen for a few moments. Haamu could hear its heart beating fast, or was it his own? Whichever it was, he was delighted. He sensed the fear which was now emitting from the creature; it had to make a decision. Would it protect the kits, or would it run away? Haamu decided that it would protect the kits, and with dagger sharp claws, he tore through the bracken before launching himself at the den.

To his suprise, the rabbit had made no movement toward the bush at all; it fled. This didn’t stop him. Haamu swiftly turned and followed it. He was hard on its heels, for the rabbit was not much faster than him. The forest was a blur; his senses were all at the rabbit. From experience, he knew the rabbit would not turn, but he kept his guard up anyway. They raced up a small slope, flashing through the forest like a wildfire. Darting between rocks, sticks, leaves, trees, bushes and all. It must have been a couple of minutes since they started, because he felt himself slowing and the rabbit too. His body ached from running and his pads were bleeding. Haamu couldn’t run for much longer. Breath heaving, he sent a surge of energy in his haunches and propelled himself at the rabbit, throwing himself on top. It kicked rapidly. Haamu flipped the rabbit and vice versa. They were a flurry�"a black tornado.

In what seemed like an eternity of kicking and scratching, Haamu managed to catch it off guard and sliced his claws through its neck. He clearly didn’t miss because he felt himself tear through warm flesh. Its screech split the air. Hot blood spilled out onto his paws and all over the rabbit. Silence overcame the forest, as if the trees were watching. The rabbit’s heart beat once more, then stopped as its body grew limp. Filled with satisfaction, Haamu felt victory rip through his veins. Heart pounding and still heavily breathing, he wanted more. But the forest was motionless. Nothing stirred. He looked back at it, menace filling his gaze. This rabbit disgusted him. Its face was staring straight toward his.

In a movement of hatred toward this prey, which he looked down on, he sank his teeth deep into its neck. Blood welled up and filled his mouth, exploding from the sides that his cavern-like mouth couldn’t enclose. He clenched harder. Finally, Haamu’s jaw clamped shut and the rabbit’s head dispatched from the body. Blood filled the entire forest like an ocean, heavy, sticky, and reeking. He too, was covered. However, the decapitation did not stop the head from staring directly at him. He felt a chill creep down his spine as he stared at its soulless eyes, which stared back. For the first time, he realized how dark it was now.

Haamu had never been in this part of the forest, so far from his den. It looked nothing like the parts he’d seen, nor did it seem to be in season. It was unworldly. Blue light had covered the entire land, causing everything to be dimmed and dull. Silver light peered through cracks in the large covering above, leaving rays dotting the forest floor. Giant red trees lined the place heavily. Evergreen colored leaves filled the canopy above, like clouds on a stormy sky. Vines hung steeply from their long branches and moss covered the tree’s bark. Mushrooms lined the tree’s base and followed paths leading up the sides. He stood in silence. An ominous wind shook his thoughts violently. Once again, he looked back at the rabbit.

In horror, Haamu noticed that there, nearly inches from his face, the bloody mess was already rotting. Its eyes were sunken deeper into its skull, its teeth showing. Half of the face’s fur had rotted off, along with the muscle and skin, which now gave way to pure skull. Maggots devoured the inside of the flesh where he had almost just cut through. Flies skirmished around it and rested on its face, crawling into its ears and walking steadily over its eyes. The sight made him dizzy. His ears rang. Vision disoriented. He assumed he was hungry, so he glanced down at the kill and noticed a leg had been untouched.

He tore it off and began to eat. Famished, he devoured it swiftly; only a thin slice on the back was left. He got more dizzy. Normal colors had now become bright reds and blues. Blood pounded in his forehead. Shocked, he realised the leg was swarming with maggots, presumably a hub. Haamu, nearly falling over with pain, felt maggots which were still alive start to cling onto the sides of his throat and mouth. His body spasmed and he retched, spilling vomit over the carcass. Bones were begining to show. Half of the rabbit was rotting skin, eye socket hollow, flies swarming. He stumbled and took a few pawsteps backward. This wasn’t normal; it never rots this fast. Aging did not happen this quickly. Surreal. Unnatural. Surprising. He had never seen anything like it. The figure looked as if it smiled slightly, still staring at Haamu. His pelt bristled as he made movement to slide his claws and rake off the smile. His body spasmed again and he vomited once again.

Suddenly, heavy clouds blocked the silver-light patches. Rain began to drench the sky, trees moving out of the way to pour upon him and the sight. Staring straight up into the sky, he cursed. Bushes began to shake violently behind him.

He turned. A tall fox loomed out into the clearing, staring deathly into his face. This wasn’t an ordinary fox. It was black, pure black. Smoke emitted from the entity, eyes dark as space, mouth leaking with black substance. It looked as if it were a shadow. His brain urged and urged him to run, leave, get away, but he was frozen solid. He stood, chest heaving, pelt drenched in rain.

Haamu couldn’t blink away the water running into his eyes because flies crawled inside his eyelids. The fox slowly padded over to him.

“Time stops for neither creature nor man.”

It said, peeling back its lips revealing narrow, white fangs. Then, in a flash, it dove, reared on hind legs, finally jabbing needle-like teeth into his neck, each tooth cutting deeper. Stinging pain made him lose track of reality, and his attention was drawn toward the pain, and only the pain. He couldn’t think. Blood roared in his ears and his head pounded. Each heartbeat seemed to thud out of his chest. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thick, cold liquid dripped ever so slowly down his neck. It wasn’t blood. It burned. Through his fur. Through his skin. Through his muscle. He was shaking violently now, throwing his head in random directions while his body made no effort to move. The last thing he saw was the rabbit, staring right back at him. Its body dilapidated. Haamu’s mind spun, and his eyes rolled back into his head. Black liquid, thinner than the tar which relished on his neck, cascaded down his nose and eyes, and poured like a waterfall from his mouth. The tar burned his fur off and melted his flesh. Agonizing groans came from his body, like spirits escaping reality. The fox disappeared. Disapeared into the night. But Haamu’s entire body was still layered thickly with the oozing liquid. He tried to move, which he could now, but the tar had hardened his paws into place.

Haamu couldn’t yowl or utter any noise, for tar was gushing out his mouth. Nor could he breathe, but for some reason he didn’t have to. He was already breathless. Veins filled with tar, entire body covered. He felt his heartbeat once more. Thud. Darkness overcame him. He felt himself disappear into the thin air.

The tar was now gone, rain stopped, only a carcass of a cat that looked as if it had been rotting for days lay there. His skull was the only thing distinct from the jumble of rotten flesh and bone mass. Light pink and pale blue smoke trailed lightly from the holes in his skull. His eyes, nose, and mouth all leaked slightly with the substance. Sprawled, limbs tangled together, he made no movement. The rabbit, which had been rotting merely feet away, was fully intact. Fur, flesh, reattached head, everything. It glanced around to study its new environment, then hopped back to where it came from, stepping lightly over the cat’s skull, which then tipped over slightly, dropping a single canine.

It is no measure of health to be well adjusted to a profoundly sick society.

-Funeral Suits

Author's Note

Very sloppy drawings, sorry about that..
Also there's some references in there!
This is one of my first short stories, I am a young kid...