5

something comes through

The family awoke to hail in the middle of the night. The sound was like millions of marbles hitting the roof. Thunder rumbled in long crunching waves as lightning streaked across the sky.

Coral and Leigh went into their parent’s room and climbed in bed with them. As they drifted off to sleep, Warren got up and went downstairs because it was just too crowded. Not only that, something was bugging him.

As he descended the steps he reached the one he had tripped up on and it squealed under his slippered foot. He tested it a few times with the heel. It squeaked like a rubber duck.

He bent down and wiggled the board on top and it rose on the nails a few centimeters.

I’ll have to fix that. he thought to himself.

He went down the steps went to the fireplace to add another log on the dying embers. He stoked it with the poker and then fanned it with a piece of cardboard he had ripped off the top of a box. It roared to life and he then went over to the window that was broken.

It was a picture window that faced the woods and the creek that flowed 70 feet from the front door. He observed the size of the hole in the pane. The little chunks that remained on the corners looked like they were covered with spider webs.

That’s when he noticed something odd at the base of the window. It looked like a set of claw marks scrapped into the wood of the sill. He grabbed a lantern and lit it and then brought it over to the marks. They were claw marks, five of them torn into the wood. The small hairs on his arms stood up. Then, he noticed something else that was odd too. On some of the corners of the jagged edges of glass there was blood and remains of fur. The hairs on the back of his neck began to stand up.

Perhaps it was just a bear? He tried to tell himself. A bear….in this house.

He tried to shake the thought of it from his head and tried to figure out the dimensions of the window so he could cut some plywood to board up the hole.

He turned on the propane to the stove and put on some water for coffee. He didn’t think he was going to be able to return to sleep. There were too many things flashing through his head to get any rest.

So when the coffee was done, he added more sugar than usual and a pull of milk. He sat down on the rocker in front of the fireplace imagining he was seeing terrible shapes in the flames.

 

Behind the cabin, in the murk of the coming dawn, something was stirring. The fog which was heavy at this time of the morning began to swirl in one area. Then, a sound that went unnoticed to the occupants of the cabin, hissed through the air. It was like a sheet tearing in half. Blackness, darker than the surrounding shadows, began forming like a wavering mirage. It was hardly noticeable in the forest shadows.

Birds awoke and took flight, as well as the other forest creatures. They all evacuated the area so that there wasn’t a single one left within a mile of the anomaly.

Except for one feral creature, that lived by instinct in both human and canine form. Fenrir was the second to make it across the bridge. He had fed on what this new place had to offer and it only made him hungrier.

The Zarada was the first to make it across the great abyss. They took the guardian away when she was weakened, and opened up the bridge. The confines of Nod were breached, and he would lead his kind to this new hunting ground.

There was a deep howl from within the blackness and then a lump of matted fur and claws vomited out of the obsidian space.

Painfully, the form got up on all fours, shaking off the ectoplasm that held it safely through the portal. It gained it’s bearings and then sniffed the air.

“Fenrir, my love.” It called.

“Shelmara!” Fenrir growled, “you’ve followed my scent.”

“Yes, husband, and the pack has heard your call. More of us will find their way to the bridge.”

“As will the other creatures of Nod.” He contemplated.

“I smell humans…nearby.”

“Yes, they are kin to the Guardian. I scouted them out when they arrived. The young ones are full of mana, shining like Polaris. But the parents…their mana is buried…dim.”

“Do they know?” Shelmara asked sniffing the coat of her husband.

“Not yet.” He licked her muzzle, “We cannot touch the children only the Zarada can do that.”

“Then the Zarada must act fast before the children ‘awaken’ and find out their true calling.”

They both turn toward the cabin, lit with a faint glow from a fading fireplace within.

Reviews

[Quinn Blackburn]

Oooh, more please! :o) Couldn't just be any old werewolf, nope. They get to deal with the Big Bad himself :o) Good reveal, great flow here, everything proceeding at a natural pace, and vivid descriptions to keep us in the moment. Love the thought that they are drawn to the lifeforce as much as the blood and meat of the hunt. So... more please? Pretty please with a juicy steak on top?

[Michael of Gilead]

Still hooked bro....

[.]

ohh brilliant...it's hotting up..

[Ruth]

Ooohh lol This is taking great form love! Your description of the scene in this is astoundingly realistic! I can almost feel the atmosphere, see the fog, sense the energy and smell the air! Thats how intense this is, great work hon, interested to see this progress xx

[.]

I like this, made sense and it's descriptive.

[Robin]

this story keeps building ~ good of use of sound in this one ~

[Jonathan De Elvira]

The Zarada seems like a mysterious and a cool character. I'm still hoping to read more and know about them, and idk, the names kinda meant something...