Prey!

An age old revenge

Vast herds of lugubrious clouds thundered through heavy skies overhead as Dr Jensen scrutinized the pit in the last precious moments of light. He was pleased with what he had found, of course, but it was more than that. The evidence he’d been looking for was finally in his hands, here in the high wastes of the tundra so bleak and unrelenting.
Seventeen years of searching, hypothesizing, defiance and demoralization; an anthology of squandered grants, a dismissal from his post and two marriages had all fallen prey to the beast that now lay at his feet, carved in rock by one hundred and forty million years of eventuality. The hunter had finally cornered his quarry in a lonely hollow of stone.
Exhausted, he leaned back against the creature’s giant thighbone and closed his eyes, feeling that sleep was coming for him, chasing his ankles and pulling him under. The overcast canopy above rumbled a distant approval and allowed him to slip away.
And slip he did, as fast as his subconscious would take him, further and further down along well-worn tracks made from time and mind; unspoken journeys to unspeakable places, with no promise made of return.
His landing was soft and cool. Green surrounded him; lush green, dense and new, punctuated only by shafts of brilliant sunlight, which seemed to act as pillars in this spacious, crisp, vaulted arena. A forest, echoing vacantly, breathing sweetly was his new abode. Ferns, furled tightly in spirals of feathered restraint, uncoiled imperceptibly, as if leaping in slow time to lick his hands and face, stretching for a taste of his fleeting image. The air was thick with the spice of trees and the wet, pregnant promise of a world in the profound, mesmerizing throes of becoming.
In an instant, the quality of the scene changed: something remarkable had entered the quiet domain; something unknown, a presence of throbbing intensity was in the environs. It was alive, penetrating and suffusing the dome of trees with its pungency. Something basic, visceral and unrepentant was stalking the realm.
The sound of wind-rushed nostrils broke the silence as the creature moved steadily in a wide arc, treading deftly through a field of scent, reptile cognition poised to strike. It grew closer, step by step, reaching to him through moments taught with fear. A snorting grunt of recognition accompanied its arrival, deeper, more guttural than anything he had ever heard. Deep to the point hat his body shook: deep so that it awakened the very helixes hidden within the core of his cells. A heart was beating inside that massive chest, demanding, industrious, crushing in its efficiency.
There was no standoff, no fight to the death, no scream to puncture the smooth transition. Only a sideways glance and the absorbing flash of brilliant teeth, set in jaws of surprising alacrity. The ferns receded; the forest a docile vacuum once again.
Jensen awoke, inhaling sharply, while distant flashes illuminated the horizon in short electric bursts. He turned on his lamp, checked his tools, and looked up to those vast, cavernous, skeletal eye sockets. His hand moved down over petrified vertebrae, a landscape of purpose, until it rested gently, reverently on a rounded form, deep within the cavity behind the monstrous ribs. Changed through time, hewn by genetics, it was nonetheless the recognizable skull of a proto-hominid, swallowed whole, silenced by circumstance.
Jensen slid up over rolling shards of stone to the gaping head of the enormous raptor.
“Yes my beauty, I’ve bloody well got you now.”

Reviews

[An Ordinary Woman]

quality of the scene ~ wow. You have really set the scene up perfectly. I could see it, feel it, hear it, I was there. This truly is a masterpiece.

So many favorite lines ...

Exhausted, he leaned back against the creature�s giant thighbone and closed his eyes, feeling that sleep was coming for him, chasing his ankles and pulling him under. The overcast canopy above rumbled a distant approval and allowed him to slip away. ... yes I love this ... sleep pulling him in by his ankles, setting the stage for the dream.

There was no standoff, no fight to the death, no scream to puncture the smooth transition. ... this was great too because the imagery involved in going from awake to dream would be very hard but you did it smoothly.

I also loved : The air was thick with the spice of trees and the wet, pregnant promise of a world in the profound, mesmerizing throes of becoming

and

And slip he did, as fast as his subconscious would take him, further and further down along well-worn tracks made from time and mind; unspoken journeys to unspeakable places, with no promise made of return.

I really really like it a lot and I'm thrilled to have come across it ! lucky day !

[Lauren Xena Campbell]

This is so cleverly crafted, and well illustrated. I loved the constant tension of pursuing and being pursued that you have created. I was in continual suspense and excitement when reading, rejoicing in the find, the long years of wanting of Dr Jensen, that final exclamation, the true taste of victory. And you write with such a potent vigour and exceeding artistry that you really brought me into the story, I could see the dream, feel the bone, see the eyes. And I enjoyed the read, the energy of your work. You must have had a good time creating this! Congratulations on a wonderful piece of fiction!

[skacsimm]

Well if you're looking for mistakes, I can't tell you of any. This story took you to the tundra, and with very few words we knew his history, his obsession which is his life's work, and the realization of his work coming to fruition. It's complex even though it's not very long.
You sure are able to pack alot in, which of course is what every writer should aspire to do. The dream, was it an echo of the past, or his mind filling in the blanks?
I liked it.

[J. Marc]

Hmmm! A very classic tale about the man and his dreams. All is there, the relentless passion, the sacrifice et al. By far, this is your best piece and I do not mean to be saccharine, as you said. The style matches so perfectly the tone and mood and the insistent desire to get over things, in this particular case, the raptor. The story conveys a sense a inner strength and calmness. Isn't it wonderful to read about someone who finally succeeds to live his dreams? To me, it is a victory of Jensen over himself and not so much about the raptor, although the image is striking.

What made Jensen attracted to the raptor in the first place? That is left to our imagination. Greed? Fame? Or both probably! We assume that Jensen is at least middle aged but apart from that, we know not much about his data and his real motivation. The title suggested something else, something wild and bloody, and the content is actually the reverse.

Despite the roughness of the situation and the topic, Andrew left is very personal mark of elegant literary style. As if to tell us that we can always deal about a subject one level above the�.toundra!

Excellent work!

[Raef C. Boylan]

The minute revelations I have regarding meaning, when reading your work, are always instantly lost as I get absorbed into the language and detail, so I'll just note a few down now (third read)

- he has dedicated his life to finding [/finding intact] a raptor fossil, knowing that if the raptor were alive, the hunter role would be reversed and the chase over in seconds...a bit gutting...

- his life has been lost to the search, in terms of time, family and career, which kind of maintains the raptor-as-predator role, because the raptor has 'caught him' rather than the other way around
[ just realised that this = less of a revelation and more a reflection of my ability to read...if this theme is an important one, perhaps you could make the reader work a little harder for it by being more subtle, re: the line "had all fallen prey to the beast that now lay at his feet" - especially as 'Prey!' is your title]

- I like the word 'lugubrious'

- "as if leaping in slow time to lick his hands and face, stretching for a taste of his fleeting image." [I like this imagery a lot]

- the absurdity of man's conquest (re: the Earth) when we're so feeble a species; how have we managed it?

As a long-time fan of Jurassic Park, I have great respect for the raptor. The scene that Jensen imagines/experiences (?) is a reminder why.

This is a great short.
I love that you don't give everything away to us at once, we have to read. As we feckin' should.
Thanks for posting this.

Not much constructive to say, as this is a great piece.

[the ghost of pauls]

The artist as time traveller, manipulating the experience of time through the use of immaculately crafted sentences. Complex ideas communicated with precision and grace and a great respect for and love of the language. You have demonstrated the art of good prose accompanied by formidable intelligence.

[Fabian G. Franklin]

Great archaeology scene depicted here. You use a great deal of long lettered words I've noticed but it didn't detract from the overall reading for me. Just remember to keep your audience in mind. I mean, a teen write this is not, although it probably SHOULD be. I wonder if "slow drifting clouds" might not be a better description? Ah, but to each writer, his/her own.