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Chapter 1. Uploaded Monday November 15, 5:33 PM.

In like a lion, out like a lamb.

The first of August, Dawn remembered, it had been sunny and beautiful and yet bland, the sky lacking any texture except its blue smoothness. There were no clouds to be seen, no rumbles of thunder to be heard of, and no raindrops falling on her head. It had been perfect and calm �" too perfect and calm to last more than a month.

And then, there it was. The first of September, coming in like a lion. She was in the field, running around and searching for Gasolina �" who had disappeared beneath the amber waves of corn only a couple hours ago �" when the rain came. The storm was the heaviest and strongest of the entire year, bolts of lightning crossing between clouds like Tesla coils and whirlwinds whipping out from the skies. The windmill creaked, the dust and gravel swirled, and shingles splintered off the roof, flying off into the clouds. The skies were green.

But the only thing on Dawn's mind, terrified through she might be, was Gasolina. Gasolina, the ragged German Shepherd with her tongue lolling, barking at the rain. The dog was brainless.

Dawn was hunting for the pungent smell of wet dog.

She kept on running, her little overalls sagging with rainwater. She was only six, but she ran like a track star. Little kids always have been able to run fast, just like little bugs. Unless, of course, they fall and slam their face into the mud, just like little Dawn did, slipping on something gross and slippery. It was mud, with a little extra.

Her face coated in grime and tears, she stood up, the rain pouring down her cheeks and clearing off the filth. The ochre of the fields was all around her, mixing with the gray of the storm and dampening the atmosphere.

There were streams of red flowing through the corn and into the mud. Walking tentatively forward, her nose throbbing, she pushed aside the tall strands and saw Gasolina, lying in the mud with her throat torn out. Black clots of fur were scattered around her, and her tongue was indeed lolling, but she was not barking at the rain. Whether or not she had a brain no longer mattered, except in memories, fragmented moments drenched in cuteness.

Untouched by emotion, Dawn only stood there, her poor child's brain trying desperately to work, but only encountering roadblocks. And then she turned around.

It was about eight feet tall, but on all fours, which cut its height in half. Its skin was thick and black as leather, stretched over the bones in a gruesome, emaciated fashion. There were no eyes on its pouting, semi-human face, only empty sockets covered by more of the leathery skin. The teeth in its mouth were yellow and bleeding, black-red rivulets running down its chin. This monstrosity stood before her, spewing water vapor out its mouth as it breathed. Its breath smelled like wet dog.

Her immediate instinct was to turn and run, tripping over Gasolina's soggy carcass as she fled, the creature on her tail the entire time, but another roadblock wriggled its way between her synapses. And so, she simply stood there, looking into the black, eyeless sockets and doing nothing, her thoughts creeping at a snail's pace. It was doing nothing; she was still alive.

And now it moved �" violently, suddenly �" backwards, grabbing what appeared to be a shiny black rock off the ground in one hand while digging a little hole with the other. It slapped the rock in the hole, covered it up, and then went back to staring at Dawn. Its slender, starving hand came out of nowhere, striking her in the face and knocking her unconscious. She fell, her eyes rolling back into her head, where Gasolina's throat was torn. They were two motionless bodies, slowly being drenched by the driving rain.

The black creature stared at them, for only a moment, and ran, hearing footsteps slapping through the mud nearby. It moved faster than the fastest of small bugs, children, or track stars, vanishing into the raging torrent.

It was Dawn's father whose slapping feet appeared between the corn, his eyes that saw his daughter, and his mouth that swore, his hands picking her up and his eyes turning to the dog. Once again, he swore through the torrent and turned, hoping to get the dog later �" sometime when the rain was gone and it had thoroughly decomposed.

The storm passed as peacefully as the first of August had came �" like a lamb. But never would little Dawn find peace in the fields, where she had first seen death, and the dark creature that bore it. Her father told her it was merely an accident, and that Gasolina was an old dog who died naturally, romping around in the rain and eventually disappearing. But Dawn knew �" and she never forgot �" the black face, the eyeless sockets, the leathery skin. And never again after that would she listen when people told her there were no ghosts, nor demons, nor spirits or aliens or gods. She was the anti-skeptic, somewhat like a pagan, desperate to find something to believe in.

And then she grew up.

Reviews

[Shay]

i love this... it is amazing

[Nick Frost]

Man! I like this. Your storytelling flow is great; I especially like your use of themes and the way you incorporate and bring them back throughout the story ie. the lamb and the lion, the track runner. Love it.

[f**k you]

Wow! Can't wait to read whatever comes next. Truly captivating and eerie. I love how you mixed the innosence of a child and her dog playing, with such a grousome and terrifying creature. You paint a very clear picture. Imagery is definitely your strong point.

-nicole-was-here-