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#1 2010-08-20 13:36:19

Mabid93
New member
Registered: 2010-08-05
Posts: 2

Suicide in Silence

Hello All!
This is my first posted chapter of my story... i believe it is rather origional in design, i hope you enjoy! big_smile

---

Rain dropped from the heavens as though a sign that the day could get no worse; it had been rather dry not an hour before and now the eight sized group huddled around the modest grave where shivering in their black clothes that had never been designed to be subjected to such a downpour; even the priest was shivering slightly, his voice quaking as the cold began to seep into his skin.

“And so we lay Rolf Ferguson to rest this day; may The Lord watch over him.” The priest spoke solemnly, electing a new bout of sobbing and crying from those arranged around the grave. One seemed somewhat oblivious to why everyone was crying, a small girl no older than five, one hand gently holding a rose and the other clasped in her mother’s quaking grasp.

Who would subject a child to this? The priest asked himself inwardly, sighing a fraction as he continued to read from the book that was now getting thoroughly soaked through. He had known Rolf Ferguson personally for many years now; he had helped build the new church in early two thousand and two and twice watched over his house when he had been called away on business or for a family emergency.
Exactly what had happened to Rolf had been kept very hush-hush by the family, although he strongly bet it would be drink or drug related. Though he had a beautiful wife and daughter (the very same who had been dragged to this morbid funeral), he could not kick the habit despite being warned by doctors for many years. Despite this however, Rolf was very clean of mind, modest and pure to those he thought of as friends – the priest could count on one hand the amount of times he had sought council, and in truth not even on anything serious – a drunken brawl here, a missed birthday there. But it seemed even someone with such a good consciousness could sway from His path, though he had very few family otherwise besides his immediate Wife and Daughter.
As the service dragged on, The Priest subconsciously found his gaze being drawn to the coffin that was ready to be lowered into the grave when the service was over. He had done many of such burials in his time; at fifty seven that was more than he would have hoped to do. But never before had he found his gaze lingering on the coffin before. He tried to hide it – he doubted it was very respectful to the family – before anyone could notice.

It was then he found his gaze lingering on the little girl, who was also now fixated on the coffin. Slowly she tugged her hand away from her mother, who barely noticed through sobbing and crying. As though examining a new toy, the little girl walked over to the coffin, and the Priest looked for another family member to stop her.
None did.
Sighing, the Priest was about to gently reprimand her when she did the oddest thing – she knocked twice, tip tap, on the coffin as though expecting an answer. Frowning, he moved closer to gently speak to her before he heard the impossible.

Knock Knock.

His eyes widened and now he noticed the family were drawing closer with a frown, unsure of what they had heard – had it been their imaginations? Had it been HIS imagination?  Surely it had been – Rolf was dead, clear as day. That had been confirmed; it was England, not some Middle Eastern country – what is dead here is 100% dead.

But now it came again. Twice, a heavy knocking as though knuckles rapped upon a wooden front door.

Knock Knock.

This time there was no mistaking it had been from INSIDE the coffin. Now the wife rushed forward, pushing past him with frantic shouts

“My husband is in there! He’s still alive!” She screamed, tugging at the coffin lid with desperation. The Priest was in panic mode – he had messed up, buried his friend alive. Mercy, what would happen to his career? The press would be all over it within the night!
The woman’s hands curled around the lock and tore it off (it was not locked yet, so it hung loosely in place) and began to push the lid aside. After much straining it shifted a fraction, then a bit more.

And then everything changed.

A hand shot up through the gap from the inside and heaved, pushing the lid aside with a lot more ease than should have been possible, pushing until it fell off into the muddy ground with a dull thump.  Rolf Ferguson sat up in his coffin and looked around slowly, as though viewing the world for the first time.

His brown hair had been combed back to his scalp, nails trimmed down and makeup applied to hide the fact that he had – apparently- been dead. His black suit was still in perfect condition though slightly ruffled from where he had lain, and though his face was out of view, he would have otherwise looked alive.

His wife ran over with a strangled cry and embraced him, but her face quickly turned to a mask of confusion and disgust. And soon did everyone’s otherwise shocked faces. The perfume to hide the fact he was dead didn’t need to last very long, just until the person was buried. And in the hours since it was applied, it had worn off.

And Rolf stank of death – as though a carcass had been lain out in the sun for hours and then some. It was sickening and the priest held the urge to vomit down, but some were not so strong and turned away to do so. And all through this, Rolf had not spoken once, nor moved to react to the embrace. But now he did, and it suddenly became apparent of what a grave mistake his wife had made by opening the coffin.

Within seconds, where there had been no nails on the corpse now grew massive claws, like those of a wild animal. The left hand whipped out faster than living (or apparently dead) man could move and drove them through her wife’s neck in a fountain of blood and a scream. Jerking the hand back, Rolf tore his beloved’s throat out and climbed from the coffin, leaving her to flounder and die on the muddy ground.

Now Rolf was growling and snarling as he lunged for two more, an old couple, and The Priest caught a glimpse of massive canines before both poor people where torn apart in a display of pure violence. The priest was frozen on the spot as his mind failed to comprehend what had happened in the past two minutes.

Rolf had sprung after a fleeing man, racing on all fours like a wolf with grace and flexibility that no man could match. The father tore his gaze away as Rolf fell upon the screaming man, turning to face the little girl who stood shaking and crying.

He had to save the girl no matter what. Running, he picked her up in his stride and bolted for the church, to try and call for help. He ran faster than he had ever run in his life, but it was not enough. The creature that had been Rolf howled and ploughed into him with the force of a train, knocking the girl from his arms. The priest rolled over and gazed into those dead eyes, but they were lit from within by a sickly yellow light, as if it was not a man at all but an animal.

The stench of death was overpowering now and he gagged as the snarling figure leant closer, sniffing at his face. Claws sank into his arms slightly, before with flashing fangs and a cracking bone, the Priest’s world faded to black.

---

The thing that had been Rolf sniffed around a bit more, pausing to devour some of the freshly slain. He moved this way and that, as though he could not keep still, growling at some times and being silent at others. It snapped at the rain as it splashed upon it and rolled in the muddy ground like a child. When he had had his fill, the creature raced out of the Graveyard and into the woodland surrounding it.

This was only the beginning.

====
The Were's in this story are infact an idea i've had for a while; they are the dead posessed by the spirits of animals. They retain some of the classic elements such as they can grow fangs and canines at will and have borderline super human reflexes, but cannot transform into the animal they once where and will, depending on how rough the animal inside is, erode the body to bone in a few short weeks.

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#2 2010-09-03 16:15:23

chouokami
New member
Registered: 2010-09-01
Posts: 7

Re: Suicide in Silence

I really like this! smile Is there more to come?


Im a freindly MONSTER

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#3 2011-04-18 12:34:39

Oldwolf81
Member
Registered: 2011-02-19
Posts: 123

Re: Suicide in Silence

Weird story.


the texas octogenerian
wolf favorite animal

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#4 2011-04-18 13:01:05

wolflove
Member
From: United States
Registered: 2011-03-22
Posts: 1498

Re: Suicide in Silence

Interesting story. I'd like to read more.

Last edited by wolflove (2011-04-18 20:00:52)


My heart sings to the moon and with the wind, sending tribute to it whenever I can.

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#5 2011-04-18 13:47:22

RedMoonstruck
Member
Registered: 2011-03-30
Posts: 161

Re: Suicide in Silence

This is very well written, and it is a pretty original premise. I'd like to read more, too, but it would appear that this story was posted last year. Hopefully the poster is still around and will be motivated to post more. smile

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