Long time since I've been on here for any great length of time, but I thought I would post a segment of a story I've been writing for some time. I will prewarn everyone in saying it isn't a particularly short segment, so be prepared.
Whilst it has been a while, I do hope I haven't gotten all that too rusty, & I won't offend anyone too much with spotty gramma Do enjoy, & let the comments run freely.


D&D - by P.Hocking.


They sat about the fire, orange flames dancing their private tune.

Julia glanced up at the group of friends assembled, her twins face hidden by the back of Kevin’s head, while the others cracked jokes and made fun of each other. Her brother Vane simply stared at the flames with Erin beside him.

“Shuddup, Vron! Bloomin’ mongrel� yelled one of the guys in a gruff voice, slurred by a fat lip and beer.

Vron, a solid black Bull terrier, had been barking, and continued to do so, whilst the other dogs began to get unsettled.
A howl and a sharp screech brought all the dogs to their feet, barking and snarling, whilst everyone jumped and was on high alert. A far off squeal peeled through the air.
Leaves rustled, and then bushes started to shudder violently, only to have three dozen wild pigs come stampeding through the campsite.
Some of the guys dived for their guns or knives, whilst others set about letting the dogs loose and getting the non-pigging dogs to safety.
Julia dived away as a solid boar careened past her, only to watch it fall under attack from Vron and two other dogs.

Another howl rang out, brutish and wailsome, but drowned out by the squeals of the pigs.

Julia got up then, and saw more pigs were still rushing into the site. She turned tail and ran, the squeals of pigs under attack, and the blasts of guns, and the war cries of the boys loud in her ears.
She just ran, as fast as she could, straight into the bush, jumping logs and diving under low branches and just continued running, even when most of the ruckus had faded out of hearing.

She ran into a clearing, breathing hard.

Gun shots and hoots of men, firing at the wild boars that had charged into their camp site, faded far off behind her.

Something had spooked the local hogs.

She looked around herself. She didn’t know why she’d run, something had just told her to run, & run fast. She’d only seen the pigs.
She turned back the way she’d come, unable to see the glow of the fire. The guns shots & hooting had receded into nothingness.

A twig snapped.

Julia whirled around and went into a crouch, looking for the source of sound.

Creeping from the darkened shrubs, four foot tall at the shoulder, a feral cat-like thing appeared to quietly move along the edge of the clearing, barely thirty metres away. As it turned side on, Jules gasped, catching the attention of the cat.

The cat was starved, haggard and deformed.
Its spine stood out like a row of spikes along its' back, the small ribcage covered with thin, grey-matter fur and skin. The much over-sized shoulders and hips, slabs of bone, leading down to thin forelegs, the veins protruding from the translucent skin, visible through the meagre fur covering. A tail, a mere stump of bone, stood straight out behind.
The utter shock of the sight had caused Jules to gasp, now she had to think fast, as the cat, its tattered ears swivelling in all directions, was staring straight at her, with pale yellow eyes.

A small breeze picked up, carrying along a distant sound and a bitter, acrid scent.

The old cat scented the breeze, its whiskers twitching.
It made a single chuffing sound and looked at Jules, as if mournfully, before slowly, and quietly, slinking back into the dark bushes.

Jules breathed in a sigh of relief, but remained crouched.

When she was certain the old cat was gone, she stretched, allowing the muscles to relax and remove any cramps that had developed. She felt a prickling on the back of her neck.

A yowl split the air, a terrible banshee shriek. It felt like her ear drums would bleed.

A rush of leaves, and some thing flew at Jules, knocking her to the ground, but continuing to pass over her, skidding to a stop six metres away.

Jules bounced to her feet, ready to run, when her gaze locked with the malicious yellow gaze of another cat.

It was still deformed, but fed and heavy with muscle, accentuating the abnormally large shoulders and hips. Dark, tabby fur, thick with good health, enlarged the cat even further.
It gave a feral snarl, which turned into a spitting hiss of contempt, yellow fangs gleaming in the pale moonlight. The bunched muscles of it's hindquarters, the only clue that it was ready to spring at Jules a second time.
Something, dark, brutal, and massive, dropped out of a tree directly on top of the cat.

Jules dived to ground, hiding in the long grass.

The sound of a wet tearing, crunching and ripping, met her ears. A final snap and heavy thump, alerted her to sudden silence. Not even crickets were chirping.

Jules lifted her head.

A heavy, taloned paw, splayed over the entire slab shoulder of the cat, met her eyes. The body of the cat, pouring out blood, was headless, the neck cleanly removed from where it joined the shoulders. A low rumble made her look higher, along with another wet crunch.
The large, barrel chest that gave a subtle rise and fall, strong, well muscled hindquarters and shoulders, the tick neck and broad skull, covered in dense, long, dark fur. The cats skull, held fast and firm, was surrounded by a set of ivory daggers. The stars twinkling reflections in the deep pools that were the eyes

Jules held her breath as a low growl was issued from behind her. Company had arrived.

The beast dropped the skull and gave a silent snarl, before rolling back onto its' hindlegs and roared, the sound of an avalanche, and glared high over Jules.
Dropping back down, bunching up muscles as it went, it flattened itself to the ground, and took a menacing step towards Jules, and who ever was behind her...

Last edited by Nightstalker (2010-01-23 09:17:44)