Prologue

Enjoy.

The silver ball of a full moon hovered in the aphotic and lifeless sky. Dark, ominous clouds concealed the stars like a thick puffy blanket.

An eleven-year-old boy in a scarlet sweatshirt, navy blue jeans, and white tennis shoes looked suspiciously at the small, abandoned town as he walked down the ancient street, the wind blowing his dark brown hair. He shivered.

As he walked down the old, cracked street, he studied the ghost of the former town.
The roof of the old barber shop was slopping in and the door was on its hinges. He passed by a drug store with broken windows and a tailor’s shop with a caved-in wall.

At the end of the street stood an old, faded church with boarded up windows.
            “Finally, I found it,” Said the boy with excitement and awe. “Time to see if those rumors are true.”

The boy had heard many rumors and stories about this place, The Black Hills Church, and about the supposed creature that lived here and two people who had supposedly gone missing at the peak of the moon (midnight). Some said the creature was a demon, bent on harming whoever came near; others said it was a black tiger that kills for the thrill of blood running through its massive paws. But most say it’s a werehog, who was captured during the early years of the Carnage (also known as the Wereian Holocaust), but then later, after a few years, escaped with a few other werehogs and lived in the abandoned church, but two of the three werehogs were killed, leaving one left. But some believe the last werehog was killed as well, which started the rumor of the demon, most though, believe he is still alive.

But whether he is alive or not, no one knows what he wants. Some say he’s bent on revenge, others say he wants attention, and others say he’s a mindless monster killing innocent people for the thrill of blood running through his claws.
He looked down at his watch: 11:46.

“It’s all just a big story, the ‘creature’ is probably just a fox or coyote, and I’m gonna prove it to them,”

The boy climbed up the stone steps, quietly echoing into the silent night. He stood in front of the grand chapel doorway, took a deep breath, and pushed it open.

Inside, two large faded velvet purple curtains hung on either side of the grand chapel doors.

The boy walked down the aisle, walking past the ancient cobweb strung pews and staring up at the dusty stained glass windows with his hands in his pockets. Some of the windows were broken, others were just dirty.

When he reached the end of the aisle he stared up at the pulpit and put his hand against it. He rubbed his fingers together. Dust. He examined it closer.

Other than the dust and a few cracks, it was it perfect condition.

He stepped up behind the old pulpit, the wooden steps creaked with age, but the boy didn’t seem to take notice.

He stood behind the pulpit, looking out at the empty pews, when he noticed something inside the ancient pulpit.

He bent down and picked it up. It was an old Bible.

He smiled and examined it. It was in pretty good shape, but another thing had caught his eye. An extremely old pipe organ lay in the corner, hidden by the shadows.

Curious, the boy cautiously crept toward the dust coated and cobweb strung organ. He stood in front of the ancient instrument and slowly pressed one of the dust coated keys.

The organ roared as dust blasted out of the rusted pipes, it was as if a demon had awakened. Bats shrieked as they flew in a panicked frenzy.

The boy screamed and dropped down on the floor, covering his head with his hands, attempting to shield himself from the swarm of shrieking, panicked bats.

He squeezed his eyes tight, praying it would end soon. As the shrieking died down, the boy opened one of his eyes a crack. Most of the bats had flown out of the church. He opened his eyes all the way, blinked, looked around, and stood up.

He looked at his watch: 11:51.

Something squeaked loudly, echoing throughout the church. The boy jumped, looking in the direction of the noise.
A small mouse was scurrying toward a small hole in the wall. The boy breathed a sigh of relief, but then noticed something odd about the wall.

He wanted to run away, but his curiosity was in control now.

He slowly and cautiously crept toward the strange mark on the wall, and knelt down to examine it.

It was a pair of large, blood-stained claw marks driven deep into the faded wall.

The boy’s eye widened in surprise and fear. “What on earth could have done this? I mean, a tiger or a bear could’ve done something like this but...” He whispered, trailing off.

Puzzled and a bit shaken, he stood up and headed for the staircase the on the right.

Pull it together Tony; you’re just letting your imagination get the best of you. There’s no werehog here. It’s just rumors and stories. Besides, most of them are locked up right now.

Most of them. The thought terrified Tony even more. The very thought that a werehog might very well be living here, perhaps even watching him right this very moment, made him freeze with fear.

No, all of the werehogs are locked up right now. It’s just rumors and stories. You’re not like everybody else, you’re not going to believe this crap, you’re not going to be as gullible as everybody else. It’s just a fox or a coyote at the most. It’s not a werehog. How could it be? They're all locked up. All it is... is... GOSSIP! Yea, that’s all it is! Gossip and stories to scare little kids from coming up here. Well, I’m not falling for it. He thought to himself as he climbed the staircase, the wooden steps creaking with age, echoing throughout the abandoned church.

As he reached the top, he noticed a set of dusty, large, dog-like paw prints leading into a small bedroom.

Inside were two large wardrobes on either side of the small bedroom and a very small bed draped with fresh animal skins, mainly deer skins. An empty nightstand sat next to the skin draped bed and in the far left corner with an aboriginal coat rack holding a worn-out bomber jacket, a démodé pair of torn jeans, and a moth-eaten black leather belt.

Various bones were scattered throughout the bloodstained floor, mainly deer bones, but something else caught Tony’s eye, more blood-stained claw marks were driven deep into the wall.

Tony gulped and looked at his watch: 11:53.

When he looked up from his watch he continued to examine the room. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a closet at the far end of the room. He casually walked over to it and opened the cracked oak door.

It wasn’t a closet at all. It was an entrance to another staircase, but this one was different from the others, this was made of stone and climbed up within the church steeple in a tall helix.

He sighed and began his long trek up the church belfry, unaware of the ice-blue piercing, eyes watching, waiting.
            At the top of the stone staircase he came to another cracked oak door. He took a deep breath and pushed it wide open. The stone floor was corrupt with bloody, dog-like paw prints, and just above hung a large, rusty, golden bell.

Tony stepped forward to investigate it. There was some kind of strange marking on the side of it, he looked closer: claw marks, deep, blood red.

Tony’s eyes widened in disbelief. “What? This is impossible! There’s nothing in existence that can do something like this! It would take an amazing amount of strength to create a gash this deep into something as thick and as solid as this, not to mention extremely strong claws. What on earth could have done this?”

A thought crept into his mind, a thought that filled him with an unimaginable terror: A werehog. A werehog could have probably done something like this. An extremely powerful one.

No, no, NO! It can’t be a werehog! It just can’t! There’s no way! They’re all locked up. All of them! It just can’t be a werehog, it just can’t! Thought Tony, fear gripping him like ice, he was frozen with fear. The very thought of a werehog running loose terrified him.

Deep breath Tony, deep breath. He thought as he took long, deep breaths, attempting to calm himself down.

Suddenly, he got a strange feeling he was being watched. Slowly, he turned his head to the door, trembling with anxiety; he looked fearfully at the door, preparing for the worst.

Nothing was there.

Tony breathed a huge sigh of relief and turned back to the ancient bell, but the feeling of relief was only snatched away from him when the door behind him slammed shut.

Tony jerked his head back towards the door, his brown eyes wide with fear as he stared into a pair of ice-blue, piercing eyes.
A huge figure emerged from the shadows revealing a hedgehog-like creature with enormous muscles rippling under its dark gray pelt. Its white tipped, wolf-like tail brushing the cold, hard, stone ground, and five large quills tipped with white ran across its huge head like a mohawk. Its huge knife-like teeth glistened eburnean in the moonlight, and its briery claws stained with blood, but the thing that frightened him the most was the ice-blue piercing eyes.

It was a werehog.

Tony stared at the werehog with disbelief and pure terror as it skulked toward him. A low growling began to rise in its throat.
            The werehog inched closer and closer until it was just a few feet away from Tony, it began to chuckle menacingly with a hint of mockery in its deep laughter. Then it spoke.

“Hmph, you humans never learn do you?” It asked, as it slowly circled Tony, mockery hindered in its deep, menacing voice. “No matter what we do, you humans just keep coming back for more. Not to mention your species attacked us first, and yet you wonder why we hate you. I can’t believe anyone would be stupid enough to come up here, especially after what I did to the others, but I guess I was wrong,”

Tony stared at the werehog with disbelief and fear, the rumors and stories were true!

How could I be so blind and so stupid? The very sight of the claw marks and the huge, bloody paw prints downstairs should have convinced me that there really was a werehog living here! Thought Tony.

But now there was no turning back.

“P-p-p-please!” Pleaded Tony, desperate to get away from there, as far away as possible, away from the werehog. “J-j-just let me g-g-go, p-p-p-please! I b-beg you! J-j-just let me go!”

The werehog smiled and quietly began to chuckle, it gradually became louder and louder until it was a full on laugh, a sound that shattered what remaining hope Tony had of leaving, (alive at least). After several long moments the beast’s laugh finally began to fade, and it stared down at the fear stuck Tony, looming over his pathetic prey.

The werehog’s smile faded. “After all the pain you humans have caused, all the innocent lives you’ve taken away, all the innocent Wereians you’ve imprisoned over the years. After all you’ve taken away from me! My family, my friends, my home, and my freedom! I have nothing left! And all because you humans thought we were “dangerous”. Give me one good reason why I should just “let you go”?” It snarled, its ice-blue eyes boiling like an active volcano.

Tony stared at the beast, terrified, shaking violently. He tried to speak, but was too terrified to.

“WELL!?” It roared in a menacing voice, its eyes blazing with rage.

Tony fell to the ground in terror, bawling, tears streaming down his fear shaken face.

“Please! J-just let me g-go.” He bawled, dread and desperation lingering in his small voice.

 “I have a better idea,” The beast said in soothing, demon-like voice as it circled the fear frozen boy.

It bent its monstrous head down to Tony’s ear. “Why don’t you just join the others that have visited me, hm? Because I would be more than happy to help you with that,” The werehog whispered into Tony’s ear.

            Tony’s eyes grew as wide a full moon. “N-n-n-n-no, y-y-you c-c-c-can’t!” He stammered as he backed away from the hellion, shaking like an earthquake.

            “Oh really?” It said in a mocking voice.

            “Y-y-yes. Y-y-you’ll b-be locked up f-for t-this,” Tony stammered.

            It shook its head. “I’ve stayed hidden and free for nearly five years now. I don’t think I have to worry too much about being “locked up,””

            A deep, menacing growl began to rise in the werehog’s throat as it barred its knife-like teeth. The growl gradually turned into a deep, lion-like roar.

            “Time for you to join them, where you humans rightfully belong!” Then it lunged.

            For a heartbeat, all Tony could do was stare in horror at the lunging beast, claws extended, and jaws wide open showing a array of huge, dagger-like teeth, ready to snap shut. It was as if all of hell had been unleashed.

            Tony’s brown eyes were wide with terror. A stab of pain erupted throughout Tony’s body like a volcano. He screamed in agony, only to be silenced when the raging beast slammed him against the wall, knocking the wind out of him.

            The monstrous beast lifted his massive paw and slammed Tony against another wall.

            “I will get my revenge, even if I have to do it one human at a time,” The demon snarled, and roared its deep, lion-like roar, shattering the night.

            Tony was bathed in blood and stared at the werehog with huge, pleading eyes.

            For a heartbeat, the werehog stared back at him with eyes filled with hatred and rage, like an icy-blue hell, but strangely, a glint of deep sadness flickered in its ice-blue eyes.

            The beast snarled, and lifted one of its huge, blood stained paws.

            “I promise to make it quick, but I can’t promise it will be painless,” It snarled and slammed its massive paw into Tony’s chest.

            Tony gasped and fell silent and still, wheezing was the only sign that he was still alive.

Blood streaming from his wounds like a waterfall left a lake of scarlet beneath him. He tried to push himself up only to fall back down with a grunt of pain, struggling in vain for breath.

            For a moment, the werehog stared down at him, his face expressionless, then smiled, clearly satisfied, and stalked away.

            The werehog stopped in front of the ancient church bell and gripped an old, thick rope and yanked on it, sending a deep, echoing chime into the night. The beast puffed out its chest and lifted its head toward the silver moon, casting a deep, ear-splitting howl echoing throughout the lifeless night sky, shattering the silence, and Tony’s last grip on reality.

                Tony sat there, eyes wide with terror. He took one last deep breath and everything went black and silent.

Author's Note

Be honest, what do you think?

Reviews

[Shhhh]

This piece is really good! Firstly, I like the idea of the werehog. You're straying away from the cliche werewolf monster. Secondly, I really like the way you structured your writing. The sentences are detailed, yet are short and concise which is effective when adding suspense to the text. One sentence that needs revision however, would be in the fourth paragraph (the really large one). The last sentence, "But some believe the last werehog was killed as well, which started the rumor of the demon, most though, believe he is still alive." It's too confusing and is packed with different phrases and clauses. Separating them into different sentences might help. Aside from that, you're doing well and keep writing!