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#1 2012-06-16 14:13:03
Ruby Caves
I started this story when I was fifteen and immature (when I was the user Wolfblood17 on here). Late last year my status as a writer has grown in maturity and since then this story has grown. Bits and pieces will be left out because nobody pays for something they can get for free. Feedback is welcome and I'll give feedback back to you guys. Enjoy!
1: Of Goblins and Cocktails
Tired eyes drearily hopped through closing and the act of opening. When they finally closed she could only hear the rain. Experiencing the pelting pit-patter-pit-patter directly along her ear; head pressed against the window. Mother Nature reminded her of man’s faults with the annoying but complimentary squelching of the windshield wipers. Past mistakes and life altering beings were momentarily forgotten.
It was all she needed; for her memory to lapse. Maybe she could go back in her sleep. To the first day they took Michael home after birth. He had fallen in love with the lamp she and William had received as a post-honeymoon gift. Sarah could have sworn his face was going to fly away with the smile he gave it. She would lightly tug his hands to the golden beads looping from the curved red shades. Within seconds he was swatting at them.
Or better yet when she met William under the cool night-skies of Central Park at a jazz concert; they bumped into each other at the concession stands. Sarah had thought all of that love-at-first sight was bullshit. There was a sparkle in his eye and good times. Maybe the one beer which shouldn’t have done much to her helped.
Good times. They had been so rare lately. Adam Case. She could see the name in her sleep. It was written in blood across the windshield. Every letter dissipated to pink smears with the rain and wipers. Squelching away that damned past for her sake. Sarah wondered what her father-in-law would want today.
Not to be eviscerated in a residential neighborhood outside of the city. She knew that much about him. The old bastard had put a gun to his head and pulled that trigger; making sure his brains painted the tree he was sitting against. Couldn’t he have at least said a proper goodbye? Was that so hard for her to ask the universe or anyone who would listen?
“Fifty-seven years I’ve been slaughtering those bastards and a gorram youngling gets to me. Does that make any since?” were his last words to her.
Her eyes opened before tears could produce themselves. It was a devastating loss to the family. Every Thanksgiving and Christmas and each birthday that rolled along; he was there at their large apartment for a couple of weeks. And then he’d run off after those great times rolled. Like they were a plague to his lifestyle…
Now the rain was beginning to mock her. As if she needed a quiz. Yes Sarah, yes, can you please tell us what we are- they would ask her in a legion of woodland voices. Thousands of those clear drops bringing out separate inklings of brown and green. It was the same scene from her dream world with the exception of madness.
Each curve of the road pressed her breasts into the restraining seatbelts. She was aware of the fact that if they crashed it would cleanly slice her throat open. Her body didn’t seem to care though. It was too tired and telling her brain the movements and belts were not unpleasant feelings.
William yawned from the driver’s side. Smiling, she craned her neck to look at him. His expression was neutral. Feeling goofy out of her needs, Sarah decided to change that and hatched a plan. Dark blonde stubble reached along his jawline to hide the deep scratches etching a path from below his chin and to the ear. There were one hundred forty eight stitches in his face.
“Quite the nightmare you were having,” he said quietly.
She nodded and idly massaged the back of her neck. Her subconscious feelings noticed the cheekbones losing a much needed smile. “Maybe you should sleep with a pillow next time,” he said. “I heard you can get nightmares if you’re uncomfortable.”
The smile returned from his caring voice. She shrugged carelessly. “Yeah,”
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.
Sarah softly shook her head. “It’s nothing to make a big deal out of,”
William glanced at her with tired blue eyes. “I’m just hoping it doesn’t ruin our vacation,”
“They’re just nightmares, they don’t mean anything.” She said quickly. She suddenly bit her tongue. Her tone was colder than it should have been.
“Alright,”
Change the subject, “How much longer until we get there?”
“Depends on the rain,”
“Without the rain,”
He mulled the question over in his head. “’Bout three and a half hours,”
“If it continues,” she prodded him on.
“Four at least, maybe a little more,” He didn’t sound too happy about it.
“Let me drive,” she offered, “You look beat,”
“I am,” he nodded vaguely. “But I’ll be fine,”
“Don’t try to go macho on these roads,”
“I know,"
Part 2 in the next post. Any questions?
Last edited by robkahil (2012-06-16 14:13:44)
Is it double dipping if you use the same chip on two different dips?
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#2 2012-06-18 00:49:56
Re: Ruby Caves
1 (Part 2)
“Well I’m bored,” she kept prodding. It was in her nature. Sarah wasn’t tired anymore but her husband was. She didn’t mind driving in the rain. It gave her mind and hands something to do.
“You chose the place,”
“I know, it sounded great.” She brushed a hand through her dark blonde curls. Highlights of auburn entwined with it. William had made a remark of her looking like a guardian angel.
“As it does,” he agreed and gave her a lop-sided look, “But it’s too far away!”
“Well it’s a new experience; I’ve never been through any caves.”
“I have, as a kid,”
She doubted William would say more. There was something in his nature to keep quiet about a tragedy. It was horrible, she thought, to live like that. Pent up rage wasn’t as good a prospect as she had once thought. Her life was changing because of that old man Adam.
Get used to it…
Sarah turned in her seat and the leather squeaked. Michael was perched in the middle section of the car. His right leg in a normal position but his left was skewed onto the seat itself. She wondered how it could be comfortable for him to sleep with his knee bent at the joints in such an awkward angle. Minute buds of his earphones were tangled against the zipper of the grey windbreaker. Generally speaking his whole appearance was off.
She didn’t approve. Making a note to herself to mention this peculiar situation to him- her eyes were just about to robotically flicker back to her husband. And then Sarah caught the glimpse of triangular tufts of brindle ears sitting beside her son. Murdoch the dog was infinitely more interesting.
It didn’t matter that his excessively mutated family members were carnivorous bastards. The Akita Inu was just too cute.
A pink tongue rolled out from among a cluster of grey whiskers. Murdoch’s muzzle opened into a yawn with a small exhale of breath. Teeth snapped shut in a spray of drool and he licked it from his black lips. Smiling warmly, Sarah reached over the armrest. The dog saw it and a curled tail happily wagged out of shape.
Grunting, Murdoch scooted forward to meet her hand. Claws produced marks along the tan seat. Sarah let the dog kiss her palm and in turn she scratched at the grey coloration of his cheeks. Whiskers tickled her wrist. She withdrew and blew him a kiss.
“Such a good boy,”
Dark brown eyes gleamed in puppy love. His tail continued to flop silently against the back of the seat. Before he became too excited she turned. No sudden change had befallen the window. There was only a grim, grey road and trees at every side.
Pine, that’s what you guys are, pine. Her vague thoughts to the quiz kept her activated. Sarah watched her husband again. “I’ll keep up my offer; I can drive.”
“No,” he shook his head, “I have it,”
“Are you sure?”
He nodded. She could see the yawn clenching his jaw muscles. “Fine,” she retorted, “Keep your mouth shut.”
“Whaaaa,” his word spread through the large yawn. William grimaced and rubbed at the scratches on his face. He drove with one hand for a moment and shook his head in defeat.
“Ha!” Sarah scoffed. “Let me drive,”
William’s mouth opened as if to say something and then closed. “No.”
“It’s raining,” she paused, pressing a lithe finger to her lips. “Better me than you,”
“The dog yawned. You know they’re contagious; you were boring the hell out of him,”
“Noooooo,” she drawled with a shake of her head.
“You’re a boring woman,”
Sarah glowered. Punching him wouldn’t bode well because of the scratches he had received a little under a week ago. “No I’m not,”
“If the dog thinks your boring honey, I’m inclined to agree with him.”
She shook her head. “He’s old and he’s seen it all. Everyone is boring to him,”
“Uh-huh, sure, go right on and dream all you’d like.”
“You’ll see,”
Murdoch must have known they were talking about him. She gave one riddling eye to him and he stood in the seat. His sides were lined with dark brown and blackish stripes- backdrops of a tan color outlined the rest of his body. “Oops, he knows,” Sarah chimed.
At the voice, Murdoch’s ears twitched towards her. With an eager grunt he leapt onto the floor and side-swiped the back of William’s seat. “Watch it back there Doc,”
The dog growled and staggeringly approached Sarah. He jumped onto the armrest and pranced on his back legs. Hot air of the predator she knew him to be lapped at her face as he panted. “Aw, don’t use his nickname.”
“Get over it dog,” William said.
Get over it, that funny thing called life and death.
Is it double dipping if you use the same chip on two different dips?
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#3 2012-06-18 00:57:42
Re: Ruby Caves
1 (Part 3)
Sarah clucked her tongue. She hugged the dog’s broad head and kissed the crown. Right between the ears and where he loved it. His ears smelled of Nacho-Cheese Doritos. “You smell funny,” she told him.
Murdoch barked and licked her chin. You smell funny too!
“What’s that boy?” she asked him after a hearty laugh, leaning her ear against his ticklish squirming one. “Oh I see,”
William took a moment into the silence until noticing her pointed look. “What?”
He was genuinely perplexed. Sarah loved it too much for her own sanity. “You think someone who isn’t so tired should drive in the rain?” she paused, “I agree with you.”
Her husband shook his head and muttered something under his breath. Murdoch jumped down and nipped at his elbow. “shite,” William glared down at the dog.
“What the hell was that for?” he asked it.
“What did you say?”
“I called him a furry bastard,”
Murdoch growled.
“I agree again,” Sarah said. “Stop the car,”
Originally I had ordered it black until I told the waitress to add cream and sugar. Now the coffee was in my free hand via a black mug with the cave’s name printed in red. Maroon booths or chairs furnished every table. Above was a striking sunroof with low hanging light fixtures strung from metal separations in the window panes. Dim light emanated from their scarlet shades.
The air was warm and smelled of meat, stew, coffee, and other “homemade” delights. The untouched rolls before me did look authentic to their claims. I finally gave in, lightly buttered the top of one, and ate it. My mouth watered on the first bite. Coffee washed it down my parched throat. Before I knew it three rolls were already gone. Less than a quarter of my coffee was left. I wanted more. Well speak of the devil-
My waitress came back with the same smile I was greeted with. “More coffee?” she asked, holding the pot just over my mug. Her name was Ellen.
“Yes please,” I said. She poured it in and provided me with a double-sided basket of cream of sugar. I took the furnishings and she wandered off to someone else.
Death himself sat across from me in a sheer black jogging suit. Instead of coffee he was drinking a fruity cocktail from a hollow coconut. As he sipped at it every visible bone switched to match the color of his drink.
Neon green was the preferred cocktail color of the day. It was comical with eerie, transparent quartz colored eyes. At his feet were bright orange crocs. The scythe was curved over the back of his side of the booth. An old man’s head would have been cut open if not for Death sliding it a little closer to the door.
“What are you drinking?” I asked him.
The old man turned to face me. “Coffee same as you,” he provided happily. Pock marked lines came about his forehead. Half lidded brown eyes fluttered with an odd twitch. Thinning grey hair was brushed back in sharp angles.
I tried to be nice him and gave a weary smile. “Sorry sir I was mumbling to myself, long drive.” I vaguely looked away, feeling hatred towards this unwanted interaction.
The smile stayed and he nodded. “To those long journeys and happy endings,” he toasted. I half-heartedly toasted back so he would go away sooner. Death even turned a little and nodded in a joyous clacking of his jawbones.
“Ha-ha, the old wanker has logic.”
Turning from me, the old man chugged the rest of his coffee and walked to the front of the building. His waitress said thanks for coming and wagging a wrinkled hand he stepped out into the gloomy day. I immediately lost interest in him and returned to Death. He was shaking his head, “Logic must mean skipping out on tips.”
I shook my own head. “Old bastard,”
He nodded.
“So what are you drinking?” I asked.
“Called the Green Goblin,”
An auburn haired waitress in all black garments began cleaning the table. She picked up an empty bowl of what used to be soup. “I’ll get right with you to take your order in a minute sir,”
“Take your time,” I told her.
She smiled graciously and piled the bowl, a small plate, and mug all in one arm and hugged it to her small breasts. I noticed her eyes drift to an area of my chest. I pulled the black jacket tighter against my throat. She couldn’t hold the horrified look away before she turned.
“Damn,” I muttered to myself.
Ellen the waitress had just seen the gun strapped around my left shoulder. I was intending on using it soon. Luckily it wasn’t for her.
A phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out of my jacket and slid it open at my ear. “Yes?”
“I’ll be there in five hours,”
My eyes were pinned to a tallish man who had just stepped into the diner. I looked elsewhere. Thirteen tables of approximately twenty-eight were inhabited by people. Six couples, two loners other than me, and five trio groups. Each caused enough disturbances to not really notice a man talking on his phone.
They would have as much indifference as I did with them now.
“Alright, I’m getting the place.”
“Good, good,” he said. “What’s the chick’s name again?”
“Kari Helms,”
“Sounds hot,”
I ignored his statement. He continued on talking. “What’s our situation on security?”
“A waitress just found my gun. I’ll deal with it quickly,”
“Damn,”
“That’s what I said,”
I took a sip. Still a great hot brew in my book. There was a hint of vanilla and another woodsy touch. I couldn’t place it.
“Don’t draw too much attention,”
“Well look,” I frankly told my boss. “Once we do all that…” Maiming and murdering, “Stuff later tonight, plenty of attention will be drawn. I can’t talk about it now. Although it is an important issue we’ll need to deal with. Security and all you know,”
“I don’t want you there. Could you possibly get rid of a few of the deputy officers hanging around?”
“It’ll take a little while, but yeah, I could do that.”
“That’s great,” he said. “They’ll be distracted long enough while we get through the initial attack.”
“True,” I said, hating the idea. Don’t draw too much attention, huh? He’s contradicting himself.
Is it double dipping if you use the same chip on two different dips?
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#4 2012-06-23 23:34:52
Re: Ruby Caves
1 (4)
I glanced to my right. She was on the inside of the booth. Morrigan looked at me with sharp silver eyes. They offset the raven hair spilling over rounded shoulders.
I nodded my acknowledgement to her being there. “We’ll talk later,” I told my boss. “Business is starting,”
“Got it,” he hung up.
I hung up.
“What do we do now?” I asked her.
“Wait for the sheriff,” she answered.
“Not get any lunch,” Death muttered.
“I second that,” I said morbidly. I was starving. The sheriff needed to hurry. All I needed to do was show him my concealed weapons permit. He didn’t need to know about the knife in my boot. Then I could finally order the Hampshire Burger I had been eyeballing in the menu.
"Oh wait there she is!" Death pointed to someone behind my shoulder. It was the sheriff. I gave Death a “gently caress you” look and watched the sheriff. He had come in from the back. Long legs allowed him to reach my table within seconds.
"Step out of the booth," his voice was cool and commanding. Green eyes looked down at me from a squared face. His hawk nose rose out of a puffy mustache. He stepped back in his jeans and boots to let me up. When I stood before him he had to look up. His eyes harshly glanced to the gun.
"I'll reach for my permit if you promise not to shoot me," I told him in greeting. If I was disbanded from even getting a "hello", he wasn't going to get one himself.
"How do you know what this is about?"
"I saw the waitress see my gun. She or the manager must have called you over right?"
He grunted, "Well bring it out," he said.
"He's a werewolf Dave," Morrigan warned from behind me. A finger was still hooked at the bridge of his gun. The holster was lifted out of place. I knew werewolves. They were faster. I was fast.
I slowly reached down to my right jeans pocket. His eyes followed my hand. After drawing the wallet out I flipped through until finding the permit behind my driver’s license. Sheriff McGraw- emblazoned on his golden star- watched me closely
“What is that, Beretta .9mm?"
I handed over my concealed weapons permit. The man took it and squinted down at the little card. “Looks legit,” he said, "How would I pronounce your last name?"
"Kaczmarczyk,"
"What type of name is that?"
"Polish,"
He pursed his lips and nodded; happy to learn a new fact. "Does it mean anything?"
"Means 'destroy everything' sir,"
"Damn," he laughed. He gave the card back to me. I put it back in my pocket. “Well don’t destroy Ellen’s tip with this. She’s doing her job,”
I laughed along with him. My expression was light and heartfelt. Ellen was doing a great job. All I could do was agree with him. “She’ll get a tip, don’t worry about that.”
“Good, good,” he rubbed at the stubble of his right cheek. “What brings you here at this time of year?”
“Vacation I’d guess. Does it matter what time of year it is to a cave?”
He shook his head and cracked a wolfish smile. “Not at all, we just don’t get many tourists out of season; they normally come around winter.”
“Don’t caves start steaming out in the winter?”
“That’s the attraction,”
“I’d pay for that,”
“Did you check into the cabins yet?”
“No I enlisted into the room with Kari Helms,”
“Oh, where did you see the advertisement?”
“A mutual friend,”
“Well alright then, be good with her. Kari’s a great lady,”
“She sounded like it over the phone,”
He nodded at me like we were old time friends already. “I’ll leave you to it for lunch; I understand you’ve come a long way.”
“You have no idea.” He turned and walked to the back counter. My stomach growled. I sat down again and waited for the waitress.
“He was a nicer guy than I thought,” Death watched McGraw over the lip of his coconut. He was still bright green. “For a furry son of a b****; I mean seriously did you see that gently caressing mustache?” he laughed and sipped from the straw.
“Real men have mustaches like that,” Morrigan said. She adjusted the cheerleader’s uniform over her voluptuous breasts. It was black with a red skirt and decals. I had no idea where that was from but didn’t think to ask. Her creamy cleavage made me forget.
I only took a few seconds glance and looked up in her face. A mischievous smile curved from her lips. “Ha, Dave you’re not a real man!” Death cackled.
“I have a dick, therefore I am a man.”
“I never said that you weren’t,” Ellen my waitress frowned down at me.
My face burned in embarrassment. “Oh shite I’m sorry,”
****
Eventually you'll see the timeline doesn't match. This is the shortened, unedited version so consistency will be thrown out as the story moves on. Such as when this story takes place. It is winter already, so that part of conversation between Dave and Sheriff McGraw about caves in the winter won't work. Other things won't match, so when it happens I'll let you guys know.
Is it double dipping if you use the same chip on two different dips?
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#5 2012-07-06 07:36:02
Re: Ruby Caves
2: Feeding Disorders
Mom was grinning and he was pissed. “Dog,” he looked down at the stupid creature, “Take a crap already.”
Murdoch looked up at him as if he had committed a crime. A pink tongue and jowls spilled out to enjoy the balmy air. Not gonna happen dude!
“He’s constipated,” Michael whined.
“No,” Mom shook her head, “He’s just being a fuzzy butt,”
“Fuzzy butt,” he mocked. She nodded primly.
The dog, disgruntled by his owners, snorted and plodded away. He was a dark shape of knee height until Michael lit the area with his Maglite. It was no different from the other oak, pines, maple, and beech. The small clearing they had found was pinned with grass just above his ankles. Needles were strewn carelessly about and were dark under the moonlight.
Every now and then a leaf poisoned by autumn would fall. It was impossible not to make any noise. The underbrush was tight knit around the base of those trees and spiraling in uneven quarters of earth. Soft gurgling came about from a nearby creek. He couldn’t see it. The light still only penetrated a few feet ahead of them.
He looked towards the distant streetlamp in longing. Crickets were chiming rapidly to keep warm. Puffs of grey steam lifted about before him at each breath. His hands felt as if they were made out of lizard scales in the cold air. “Hurry up Doc,” he called out to the dog.
The leash was straining farther into the forest. They were already nearly twenty feet or so from the parking lot. A patch of bushes rustled and growled and moved forward. Murdoch wheeled back with a yelp. He pawed at his muzzle and rubbed it furiously into the ground. The dog circled around a beech to go around the holly bushes instead.
“Idiot,”
“I thought I taught you about hollies in New York.” his mother said.
“Idiot,” he repeated with a shake of his head. Murdoch finally finished his business and stalked out from behind the tree. In the bright luminescence his mother saw it first.
“Oh hell,” Mom approached the dog, “What did you step in?” A sandy blonde ponytail bounced along her back when she leaned down. Michael couldn’t see so he moved closer and to the side.
“What is it?”
“His paws are bloodied,” she said without looking back from her business. His mother squatted on her haunches and tapped Murdoch on the nose. She uttered a command under her breath. The dog barked wearily. She shushed him and ordered the phrase again.
Murdoch whined in earnest frustration and placed both paws on either of her knees. She shifted under his weight but held strong. He could see that the dog’s paws were in fact spattered with dark blood. It was new, that was for sure; covering up to his dewclaws.
She daintily lifted both paws but the dog didn’t wince. “He stepped in something back there, show the light.”
Now the smell was hitting him on the breeze. His mother sniffed, blanched, and stood. Murdoch jumped to the ground and tried to circle the beech tree again. Michael yanked him back. The black harness picked the dog up on his hind paws. It hurt him more than it annoyed the dog.
Breathing through his mouth, Michael peered over the prickly leaves. He felt a wave of nausea pass over his body. A deer corpse, or the half that remained, peered up at him with one dead glassy eye. The other was removed via four scratches along the short face. Matted fur trailed down to a shredded throat.
If he were to pick it up the head would flop only by the simple whim of a few strands of tendons. The gristle was too much. He clamped his jaws shut, looked away and up at the vast night sky peeking through numerous branches. A half-moon watched the gruesome scene from above in uncaring grace.
He momentarily forgot about the reek and shoved air out through his teeth. Michael had to finish looking. It drew him in. Just as he had looked at the gruesome mauling photos over dinner; but this took a larger effect to his psyche. This was only an animal. Nothing else, it helped him to realize this was just nature’s course.
Although seeing the intestines strewn behind the body like an overgrown tail was not nature. In his mind it was devastation. There were no hindquarters and both hooves of the remaining, bony legs, had been removed by what looked like teeth. Each opening in the corpse released some form of pink, scarlet, or velvet to the freezing air. Murdoch growled.
He wanted to be in the warm registration building. A twig snapped nearby. Murdoch jerked himself forward on the leash with a furious growl. Michael felt his mother tense. She took the Maglite from him and reined Doc’s leash closer to them. He took the leash in both hands as he began a slow, backwards trek.
“Don’t run,” his mother ordered quietly. She glanced over her shoulder every few steps. The Maglite pinpointed a patch of shimmering holly leaves.
Michael was concentrated on the contorting hackles of Doc. His growls were low and full of warning but no other creature answered. “Can we do that when we get to the lights?”
“No,”
He wanted to. Badly enough to start running now if it weren’t for warning bells in his head. The creature out there had enough of Doc’s growling and provided a merciless call of its own. It was a short twisting of wolf and human vocal cords sputtered from a barrel-like chest.
A hulking figure stepped into the edge of the Maglite’s beam. “Mom,” he choked out, nearly stalling. She shushed him and angled the light higher. Don’t do that, don’t do that! Sweat broke out along his spine. I don’t want to see any more of it. This wasn’t a bear. It can’t be!
“Please don’t try blinding it,” Michael finally said.
“Just keep moving,”
Much to his plea, Mom kept the light leveled at least to the creature’s chest. He was moving sure, but not fast enough. Faster, faster! No you damn fool, a second part of his mind said. Keep slow and live, run and die. Chatter was working its way through his jaws. Could the beast hear it?
Not only that, it could also hear his restless heart. He was sure of that if not anything else in his life. Longish fur, browned to the color of surrounding trees. A right arm thick with muscle shifted under that fur and reached out with another growl. “Mom, how much farther do we have?”
He didn’t dare look away from that thing. There were no more resignations that this thing was a werewolf. Everything he’d heard so far about them mauling… A squishing came just around its feet. “Nooo!” the werewolf wailed. It looked down with glimmering ember eyes.
“All I wanted,” it continued in a deep groveling voice, “Was to have a dinner of venison and you humans had to come all…”
“They talk?” Michael gawked. Murdoch whined, barked once, and waged his tail. The fluffy spiral unraveled and battered his jean-covered legs. The werewolf blinked up at him.
“Why yes, yes we do. Now please go,” it waved them away. “I need to clean my feet or she won’t let me back in the house.”
“Uh, right, sorry for any troubles Mr. Werewolf.” His mother finally said.
The werewolf gave them all a pert little wave. Black talons he never wanted to meet vanished at the edge of the light. Clean fangs glistened and chomped closely enough to allow such discernible speech.
*****
Okay, well in this scene there is supposed to be more snow covering the ground. It snows in New Hampshire in December. When I get to editing this chapter and others the dynamics of scenes like this will change.
Is it double dipping if you use the same chip on two different dips?
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