Compunction
Fathomably Unfathomable
[[ Okay, a bit of background. I am in the ninth grade, and we were given the assignment to write a story [ no maximum or minimum page count, so long as it is in a decent/practical reading range ]. The prompt was Search and Rescue, and we particularly focused on a few posts on Reddit, I believe. We are supposed to intertwine the elements of the short Reddit stories as well as include a 'monster' that the entire class designed. That said I was quite limited and I had a lot to include. I'm pretty worried that my objective is unclear and the transitions per including each subject is really rough...
I have my first draft up now, but I am afraid it is severely lacking. I will be sharing this with my teacher and at least one other student, so my anxiety is sort of pricking at me. Would anyone be wiling to give me a few tips/suggestions and whatnot to improve my story? I'd rather not make a fool of myself if it can be avoided... Thank you so much, in advance. ]]
A bit of strong Language, triggering scenarios, and (a shoddy) description off blood/gore is used.
'The best part of waking up, is Folgers in your cup.'
Haplessly so, such was true of Marley Riggs. Vitality dependent on it, the somnolent woman was fueled by the mixture of late night Ramen and a lukewarm cup of Joe. A toothpick rested in her teeth, poking between her chapped lips as she rolled it back and forth across the corner of her mouth subconsciously. Any adrenaline that had once coursed through her veins with that morning's encounter had withered with the silence of the bumbling vehicle; Riggs found that her energy was quickly dwindling. Eyelids beginning to fall over her pale olive gaze, sight slightly blurry in her exhaustion. Only the thought of her endeavor kept her from dozing off to a dreamless sleep at the wheel. Sleepless nights were far from foreign to Riggs, however, one never really sunk into a comfortable ditch of familiarity with such stupors. She was hot on the case, and couldn't afford to let it slip out of grasp for a cat nap. Besides, one sort of needed money for the luxury of a bed and a decent rest, yeah?
'Bzzt, Bzzt'. Speaking of money, her eyes flickered towards the cell-phone beside the warm bottle of Gatorade. The screen was lit with the small icon of a text message, eliciting a groan of uncertainty from between her lips.
Marley Riggs was no special creature. About as extraordinary as a rotten tomato in a strawberry patch, and half as delectable, the driver was a shadow to the world. She knew few people, and even fewer people knew about her. That's how she preferred it, nonetheless. She wasn't exactly the most tolerable of folks, a brash demeanor and a colorful vocabulary aiding her oh-so impressive social skills. She made do, regardless, her job one that dwelled less on the importance of civil mannerisms, instead focused on blunt communication. Being tired, cold, and hungry only made her all the more irritable, however her state only made the proposition that much more enticing, and with a swift hand, she plucked the buzzing cellphone from the cup holder beside her. She could use some of her own sunshine in a bag, and a wad of cash in her pocket would make a fine substitute at the end of the day. Besides, the extra cash, her own share now diminishing under the prices of gas and food, would be the difference between a broken down car and a nice hotel.
Her eyes narrowed against the light of the bright screen, her attention switching from the road she cruised along to the phone for a few seconds. An address crawled across her screen, the number an unknown one, as typical. She knew it was from the woman she'd met at the motel earlier that day, nonetheless, and the curt demand did not bother her. At the end of the day, money was money, and she was lacking in such. She bit her lip, gazing into the rear view mirror with uncertainty. A detour would not be wise. She knew this, if only subconsciously. It was atypical of the girl to walk into the blind as she intended to. She was cautious when it came to her job--being a former dispatch paramedic pumped suspicion into people like air, and in her current predicament, she was wary to let her guard down regardless of the task at hand.
It was a kid, anyways. She had a soft spot for kids, especially out here.
A sigh of defeat rumbled in her throat, brows furrowing as she shrugged halfheartedly. While it was daunting to face the task in the middle of the god-damn night, Marley made no complaints. Any sightings of the kid at all were a miracle, frankly, and after her last encounter, Marley was only growing desperate.
The kid, oh that kid. He was a small boy with curly brown hair and an upturned nose. Generically cute, but a face to remember, the creases in the corners of his eyes and the dimples at his cheeks lapping in waves of innocence only a child could pull off. When she'd finally found him he sure wasn't smiling. He'd been missing for half of a year before they found him, curled in the snow just beneath the creeping branches of a spruce. He looked like he belonged in a photograph; frozen in time. A shudder ran down the woman's back at the thought of the corpse, goosebumps crawling up her arms. They were perplexed by his death. It seemed so unnatural. Hell, the kid was still warm by the time they'd found him. He'd been alive the whole time... No lacerations--not a bruise on him. It was like he'd just dropped dead where he stood. Twenty three miles and six months away from the campsite he'd gone missing. Only a faint dribble of blood painted his lips, leading Riggs and her crew to believe that he'd eaten something poisonous.
The autopsy revealed this to be false. The kid hadn't eaten anything bad--in fact, he hadn't eaten anything at all. There was nothing in his insides, not even a trace of water. As if he'd been fasting, fasting for an entire month, yet his body was lacking in no nutrients, not a bone protruding from his skin in tell-tale of starvation. He looked perfectly healthy. But perhaps that was the least of their problems. His cause of death was deciphered that day, more or less. The kid looked like a spilled can of fucking Spaghetti O's from the inside out. Parasites? Not a trace, it simply didn't seem possible. Besides, the holes seemed to be eaten through each of his organs with a preciseness that nature often lacked. It was as if someone had taken a drill to the boy's lower intestine, working their way up until he looked like little more than a noodle strainer. But there was no entry wound. No incision, no bumps or bruises. Just holes. So many holes.
The girl chewed on her bottom lip, waving the memory away. The last thing she needed was to psyche herself out. This kid was different, little girl: age seven with strawberry blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Most importantly, she was still alive. She'd only gone missing that morning, and less than an hour ago, she'd been spotted once more. Still alive. Marley wasn't going to lose another kid, not if she could do something--anything about it. So her fingers clutched the leather of the steering wheel, gaze flicking to the analog clock on her dashboard. Forty minutes passed eleven o'clock. It'd be a long night.
The road was a long and winding one, lazily drifting through the rocky terrain of the forest that bordered it on either side for miles. The drive had taken no more than an hour, but the red-head found her guard surrendering to the looming effects of sleep deprivation, eyes wandering back to her phone as if to recalculate her coordinates. She didn't get that chance, however, a look of surprise flicking across her face as something awful curled a look of terror on her lips.
With an exaggerated flick of her wrist, Riggs swerved around the large figure, only its shadow evident in the moonlight. It's grotesque body contorted painfully as it thrashed on the dirt road. A screech broke from beneath the vehicle as the woman slammed on the brakes, bracing her body in a tense cringe. Dust, kicked up by the vehicle's wheels, surrounding the unidentifiable animal in a gloomy aura, bathed in the red glow of Riggs' tail lights. The woman's eyes widened, glossy as bright green jolly ranchers, glazed in shock. She sucked down a deep breath, lungs struggling to comply. The paramedic's panicked gaze flew to the rear view mirror a final time, foot hovering over the gas pedal; alas, it was gone. The abhorrent, writhing animal seemed to have vanished, like an apparition. Only the frantic tracks in the dirt seemed to have twisted just off the road in some impossible escape.
"Dear God..." She swallowed back the disturbance of whatever she'd just encountered, heart beating loudly in her chest. Cursing under her breath, she cast a skeptical glare across the road. Perhaps it was a deer? It was the middle of the forest, and such an encounter wasn't exactly uncommon. The way it moved, the way it thrashed, however, left her uneasy. Her eyes were drawn to the green glint of a roadside sign, pointing out the detour along a stretch of what she assumed to be an underused trail. The forest seemed to have reclaimed the land as it was breached by wild grass and evergreen branches, the trail barely visible beneath the foliage and snow. 'The Demming Trail' it read, the words barely visible beneath the crude layer of grime that had gathered on the maintenance neglected sign.
Arching a brow, the scarlet-haired woman pursed her lips in an anxious line, daring to look back down at her phone. The address was clearly visible on the illuminated screen: Deming Trail. Peachy.
A feeling of nausea swept over the woman, her stomach knotting in discomfort as she led the vehicle up the dark path, reassured by the deep tracks in the snow that a car lot was provided up the trail. The road stretched farther than Marley was hoping, the sound of pebbles kicking up from beneath the car's tires serving as the only telltale sign of the vehicle's ever remaining presence on the rocky road, rather than the snowy territory that surrounded her. She didn't dare turn on the radio, assuming she had any reception in the first place. Her eyes and ears strained to focus on the atmosphere around her, however she struggled to see much anything beyond the small shadows provided by her headlights, the trees too thick to see more than a few feet into the forest. She saw nothing to be suspicious, nor afraid, of. Yet her hands gripped the steering wheel with ferocity, knuckles turning white as bone as she rolled into the dip in the trail, reserved for parking. The rest of her journey would be on foot.
The car door clicked shut, a quiet sound in her efforts. Not only because she was wary of her advances being detected, but she was already on edge, and she didn't fancy the idea of attracting any other. . .distractions. Animals, namely, and she kept to her intuitions. She shrugged her jacket into place, breath rolling off her lips like wispy clouds. She had retrieved her revolver, tucking it into the waistband of her pants without any intentions to use it. Too loud, too messy, and against a big cat, or God forbid, a bear, it had little an effect. Ah, better safe than sorry, no?
She had to crane her neck to take in the view of the sky. The trees seemed to stretch upwards, desperate to touch the moon as it beamed a loose, gloomy glow on the woodland. She'd once loved the woods. The serenity and mystery it laid before her. Not anymore, not after all she'd seen. The woods were dangerous, unexplored. In a way, she preferred it that way. She didn't know if she could sleep any better if she really uncovered the truths of what lurked in the shadows, untouched by mankind. She flinched, head jerking downward as her phone rattled in the breast pocket of her button down.
Another text message, though it seemed to reveal no more than it's sender had allowed with the first message. 'Shed,' it read, followed by a final text message before the woman's attention was redirected for good. 'One.'
Oh, her favorite. Marley loved reading people's minds, great. One shed? A shed in a mile? She didn't know. She supposed it didn't really matter. Truth be told, she highly doubted the kid was still there, if she'd really been spotted at all. How would a seven year old even get this far? Hell, why would she come this far? No matter, protocol was protocol, and she had to check it out regardless. So she sighed, tucking the phone away as she clicked the flashlight on, the bulb flickering to life as it irradiated her surroundings. She took her first few steps, feet crunching in the snow as she kept her eyes wide, light brushing over everything in sight. All she needed was a small hint. The tiniest of clues to catch onto the girl's whereabouts. Marley kept her hopes up, despite past altercations. After all, you don't will yourself to find dead children. You do it for the living ones, the ones everyone still has hopes for.
She found the shed. No more than a mile and a half into her hike, jacket pulled close to her body as to preserve any warmth that rolled off her body, Marley could make out the faintest glow in the thick wood. Another flashlight, she quickly deciphered: her crew. Well, sort of. She was more or less an ex-con in the eyes of her team. She'd been let go after perusing a few too many cases that their authorities had insisted they drop. Something like that wasn't taken lightly, and poking around a closed case was not the smartest thing to do under the eye of jurisdiction. She trailed after cases nonetheless, picking up anything she could in hopes of solving cases simply dismissed. It brought peace to families, money to Marley's pocket, and in some sick manner, she found relief in a solved mystery. As if it deemed her some ulterior knowledge of the nature of the woods.
It did not. She only admitted this too late, and as she broke into the clearing, the site of the lone flashlight, dappled in a browning substance she quickly discerned as blood, her lips parted in a twitch, a silent yelp. Her own flashlight lit the crime scene before her, only small trails of blood giving away the evidence of anyone being here at all. The trail had been stomped flat, frantic footprints leading off into the woods. All of them, vanished from the site. Marley's stomach curled at the insinuation, backing up only a few feet before a gurgled moan broke off to her left. A survivor? Perhaps survivor wasn't the appropriate term, perhaps this was all a misunderstanding. But someone was certainly hurt, the broken groan drawing her closer. She bathed the body in blinding light before she could discern the man.
Men. She quickly realized that she was faced with more than one victim, heavy breathing of her crew member heard just above the groan of the next. She hadn't spotted the second man, in fact she didn't recognize the low, raspy huff of breath at all, but she assumed it was just another one of her men. She rushed forward as fast as the snow beneath her feet would allow, gaze meeting the man's glassy eyes as he stared up at her as if star-struck. Despondent, was a better word, perhaps. Concern burrowed deeper into her subconscious, a hand outstretched as she uttered the man's name, begging for a response. She got one, unfortunately.
His lips parted, a small trickle of blood escaping the corner of his mouth as it crept down his ashen face like hot lava. He only let out a whimper, eyes trembling only slightly as if to speak what he could not. Her brows knit together, lips twitching as she shook her head. No, no, elaborate,' she seemed to beg, but a reply came in a low rumble, a heart dropping at the sound she could only compare to that of a rabid animal. She staggered backwards, eyes flicking about the shadows around her as her heart-rate skyrocketed. This was no bear. She could only just make out the heavy breathing now. It had shifted, now just behind her, tucked to the left behind a grove of trees.
Oh, god. She dropped the flashlight, her lifeline, as she turned on a heel, fleeing the scene. It was too late for her men, but--Hell, not for her. Her feet stumbled as she unceremoniously tore through branches in her way, silence no longer prevailing in her distraught scramble. She wouldn't make it to the car. She'd seen too many cases, too many deaths to fool herself with such an idea. This animal, this thing, it was going to catch her if she continued down her path of destruction. She had to hide, and as the thought cropped in her mind, she spotted it.
A worn shack, seemingly misplaced in the tight knit woods. Perhaps a woodshed, or a supply shack. She didn't know. Frankly, she didn't care. And with a whimper she dashed for the shelter, lungs ablaze as she huffed strenuously. Her fingers trembled as she latched onto the handle of the shed, swinging the door open with a loud bang as she slammed it behind her. She barely fit, sore body beginning to cramp up as she pushed her body against the empty shelves. It took everything in her to keep her stomach contents down, tears blurring her vision as the grunting beast shuffled just out of sight, thrashing in the snow as its attempts at tracking her down fell futilely.
It had to be hell spawn; there was no other explanation. Taking a human stance, it was almost eerily similar to those she identified as acquaintances, her fellow man. It was disfigured beyond recognition, and she assumed her crew had done a number on the beast. Even so, it's elongated limbs and claws protruding like crude, yellowing daggers, left her in both awe and horror.
A dizzy bark broke from between it's broken lips, mellifluous as the drowned chuckle of a Siren, bent on unhinged frustration. It dragged itself forward on greasy claws bits of wood and grass, stained red and dripping, fell between the gaps of its lanky fingers. Riggs bit back a whimper, pushing up against the back of the shelves tensely. Being subjected to the human deli-slicer was not something she was looking forward to. The monster's cool gaze following the spattered blood droplets as they rolled down its wrinkled face, dropping to the floor independently. A dead expression giving away no emotion; only its tense position gave away it's distress. It knew its quarry was near, and it was infuriated by her disappearance. With an angered huff, it shuffled away from the trees that harbored it, sinew hanging from it's maw dangling like saliva. If a game of cat and mouse was what she wanted to play, the cat would participate.
Her hands had grown slick with sweat, shaking as if she had Parkinson's Disease. Marley cocked the revolver, gaze following the monstrosity as it paced just beyond the shack, unrelenting. The click resonating from inside the small hovel, painfully loud as Marley bit back a stressed string of curses. Shit. The creature let out a scream, a gurgled cry, as it's head snapped in her direction, angled in a painfully abnormal twist. She fired indefatigably, each bullet tearing into the monster's flesh without mercy. Her pale olive eyes widened, flicking across the beast's disfigured, hellish body as it shrieked out in an anguished response. Blood and gore painted the snow, the beast's entrails pecking through it's broken skin but it seemed unfazed by this. It merely hunkered lower, stomach spilling from its abdomen as it made its advance, a bipedal hobble traversing to a three-legged mad dash, a single stained claw reaching up for her. Marley was confident that it was the hand to drag her to Hell, splitting her skin as it ripped her from her haven. Her fingers continued convulsing long after she'd run out of ammunition, despairing in her frozen stance of fear. She knew there was no escape now, this monster was one of many hidden amongst the rot and vegetation of the wilderness. Succumbing to the beast wouldn't be out of the ordinary here. Perhaps ruled as a freak accident, a savage homicide case. Anything natural to the human eye, because most didn't recognize these horrors to be of nature. Not until it was too late.
It never stopped running, never ceased its attack as it screamed a drowned cry, perhaps one of victory as it cornered it ripped the girl from her hideaway. And soon, Riggs couldn't discern her own agonized screams from the monster's, red syrup pooling beneath her body as she was bid a tortured farewell.
"Police: Missing Search and Rescue Crew Recovered, Rabid Bear Attack."
I have my first draft up now, but I am afraid it is severely lacking. I will be sharing this with my teacher and at least one other student, so my anxiety is sort of pricking at me. Would anyone be wiling to give me a few tips/suggestions and whatnot to improve my story? I'd rather not make a fool of myself if it can be avoided... Thank you so much, in advance. ]]
A bit of strong Language, triggering scenarios, and (a shoddy) description off blood/gore is used.
'The best part of waking up, is Folgers in your cup.'
Haplessly so, such was true of Marley Riggs. Vitality dependent on it, the somnolent woman was fueled by the mixture of late night Ramen and a lukewarm cup of Joe. A toothpick rested in her teeth, poking between her chapped lips as she rolled it back and forth across the corner of her mouth subconsciously. Any adrenaline that had once coursed through her veins with that morning's encounter had withered with the silence of the bumbling vehicle; Riggs found that her energy was quickly dwindling. Eyelids beginning to fall over her pale olive gaze, sight slightly blurry in her exhaustion. Only the thought of her endeavor kept her from dozing off to a dreamless sleep at the wheel. Sleepless nights were far from foreign to Riggs, however, one never really sunk into a comfortable ditch of familiarity with such stupors. She was hot on the case, and couldn't afford to let it slip out of grasp for a cat nap. Besides, one sort of needed money for the luxury of a bed and a decent rest, yeah?
'Bzzt, Bzzt'. Speaking of money, her eyes flickered towards the cell-phone beside the warm bottle of Gatorade. The screen was lit with the small icon of a text message, eliciting a groan of uncertainty from between her lips.
Marley Riggs was no special creature. About as extraordinary as a rotten tomato in a strawberry patch, and half as delectable, the driver was a shadow to the world. She knew few people, and even fewer people knew about her. That's how she preferred it, nonetheless. She wasn't exactly the most tolerable of folks, a brash demeanor and a colorful vocabulary aiding her oh-so impressive social skills. She made do, regardless, her job one that dwelled less on the importance of civil mannerisms, instead focused on blunt communication. Being tired, cold, and hungry only made her all the more irritable, however her state only made the proposition that much more enticing, and with a swift hand, she plucked the buzzing cellphone from the cup holder beside her. She could use some of her own sunshine in a bag, and a wad of cash in her pocket would make a fine substitute at the end of the day. Besides, the extra cash, her own share now diminishing under the prices of gas and food, would be the difference between a broken down car and a nice hotel.
Her eyes narrowed against the light of the bright screen, her attention switching from the road she cruised along to the phone for a few seconds. An address crawled across her screen, the number an unknown one, as typical. She knew it was from the woman she'd met at the motel earlier that day, nonetheless, and the curt demand did not bother her. At the end of the day, money was money, and she was lacking in such. She bit her lip, gazing into the rear view mirror with uncertainty. A detour would not be wise. She knew this, if only subconsciously. It was atypical of the girl to walk into the blind as she intended to. She was cautious when it came to her job--being a former dispatch paramedic pumped suspicion into people like air, and in her current predicament, she was wary to let her guard down regardless of the task at hand.
It was a kid, anyways. She had a soft spot for kids, especially out here.
A sigh of defeat rumbled in her throat, brows furrowing as she shrugged halfheartedly. While it was daunting to face the task in the middle of the god-damn night, Marley made no complaints. Any sightings of the kid at all were a miracle, frankly, and after her last encounter, Marley was only growing desperate.
The kid, oh that kid. He was a small boy with curly brown hair and an upturned nose. Generically cute, but a face to remember, the creases in the corners of his eyes and the dimples at his cheeks lapping in waves of innocence only a child could pull off. When she'd finally found him he sure wasn't smiling. He'd been missing for half of a year before they found him, curled in the snow just beneath the creeping branches of a spruce. He looked like he belonged in a photograph; frozen in time. A shudder ran down the woman's back at the thought of the corpse, goosebumps crawling up her arms. They were perplexed by his death. It seemed so unnatural. Hell, the kid was still warm by the time they'd found him. He'd been alive the whole time... No lacerations--not a bruise on him. It was like he'd just dropped dead where he stood. Twenty three miles and six months away from the campsite he'd gone missing. Only a faint dribble of blood painted his lips, leading Riggs and her crew to believe that he'd eaten something poisonous.
The autopsy revealed this to be false. The kid hadn't eaten anything bad--in fact, he hadn't eaten anything at all. There was nothing in his insides, not even a trace of water. As if he'd been fasting, fasting for an entire month, yet his body was lacking in no nutrients, not a bone protruding from his skin in tell-tale of starvation. He looked perfectly healthy. But perhaps that was the least of their problems. His cause of death was deciphered that day, more or less. The kid looked like a spilled can of fucking Spaghetti O's from the inside out. Parasites? Not a trace, it simply didn't seem possible. Besides, the holes seemed to be eaten through each of his organs with a preciseness that nature often lacked. It was as if someone had taken a drill to the boy's lower intestine, working their way up until he looked like little more than a noodle strainer. But there was no entry wound. No incision, no bumps or bruises. Just holes. So many holes.
The girl chewed on her bottom lip, waving the memory away. The last thing she needed was to psyche herself out. This kid was different, little girl: age seven with strawberry blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Most importantly, she was still alive. She'd only gone missing that morning, and less than an hour ago, she'd been spotted once more. Still alive. Marley wasn't going to lose another kid, not if she could do something--anything about it. So her fingers clutched the leather of the steering wheel, gaze flicking to the analog clock on her dashboard. Forty minutes passed eleven o'clock. It'd be a long night.
The road was a long and winding one, lazily drifting through the rocky terrain of the forest that bordered it on either side for miles. The drive had taken no more than an hour, but the red-head found her guard surrendering to the looming effects of sleep deprivation, eyes wandering back to her phone as if to recalculate her coordinates. She didn't get that chance, however, a look of surprise flicking across her face as something awful curled a look of terror on her lips.
With an exaggerated flick of her wrist, Riggs swerved around the large figure, only its shadow evident in the moonlight. It's grotesque body contorted painfully as it thrashed on the dirt road. A screech broke from beneath the vehicle as the woman slammed on the brakes, bracing her body in a tense cringe. Dust, kicked up by the vehicle's wheels, surrounding the unidentifiable animal in a gloomy aura, bathed in the red glow of Riggs' tail lights. The woman's eyes widened, glossy as bright green jolly ranchers, glazed in shock. She sucked down a deep breath, lungs struggling to comply. The paramedic's panicked gaze flew to the rear view mirror a final time, foot hovering over the gas pedal; alas, it was gone. The abhorrent, writhing animal seemed to have vanished, like an apparition. Only the frantic tracks in the dirt seemed to have twisted just off the road in some impossible escape.
"Dear God..." She swallowed back the disturbance of whatever she'd just encountered, heart beating loudly in her chest. Cursing under her breath, she cast a skeptical glare across the road. Perhaps it was a deer? It was the middle of the forest, and such an encounter wasn't exactly uncommon. The way it moved, the way it thrashed, however, left her uneasy. Her eyes were drawn to the green glint of a roadside sign, pointing out the detour along a stretch of what she assumed to be an underused trail. The forest seemed to have reclaimed the land as it was breached by wild grass and evergreen branches, the trail barely visible beneath the foliage and snow. 'The Demming Trail' it read, the words barely visible beneath the crude layer of grime that had gathered on the maintenance neglected sign.
Arching a brow, the scarlet-haired woman pursed her lips in an anxious line, daring to look back down at her phone. The address was clearly visible on the illuminated screen: Deming Trail. Peachy.
A feeling of nausea swept over the woman, her stomach knotting in discomfort as she led the vehicle up the dark path, reassured by the deep tracks in the snow that a car lot was provided up the trail. The road stretched farther than Marley was hoping, the sound of pebbles kicking up from beneath the car's tires serving as the only telltale sign of the vehicle's ever remaining presence on the rocky road, rather than the snowy territory that surrounded her. She didn't dare turn on the radio, assuming she had any reception in the first place. Her eyes and ears strained to focus on the atmosphere around her, however she struggled to see much anything beyond the small shadows provided by her headlights, the trees too thick to see more than a few feet into the forest. She saw nothing to be suspicious, nor afraid, of. Yet her hands gripped the steering wheel with ferocity, knuckles turning white as bone as she rolled into the dip in the trail, reserved for parking. The rest of her journey would be on foot.
The car door clicked shut, a quiet sound in her efforts. Not only because she was wary of her advances being detected, but she was already on edge, and she didn't fancy the idea of attracting any other. . .distractions. Animals, namely, and she kept to her intuitions. She shrugged her jacket into place, breath rolling off her lips like wispy clouds. She had retrieved her revolver, tucking it into the waistband of her pants without any intentions to use it. Too loud, too messy, and against a big cat, or God forbid, a bear, it had little an effect. Ah, better safe than sorry, no?
She had to crane her neck to take in the view of the sky. The trees seemed to stretch upwards, desperate to touch the moon as it beamed a loose, gloomy glow on the woodland. She'd once loved the woods. The serenity and mystery it laid before her. Not anymore, not after all she'd seen. The woods were dangerous, unexplored. In a way, she preferred it that way. She didn't know if she could sleep any better if she really uncovered the truths of what lurked in the shadows, untouched by mankind. She flinched, head jerking downward as her phone rattled in the breast pocket of her button down.
Another text message, though it seemed to reveal no more than it's sender had allowed with the first message. 'Shed,' it read, followed by a final text message before the woman's attention was redirected for good. 'One.'
Oh, her favorite. Marley loved reading people's minds, great. One shed? A shed in a mile? She didn't know. She supposed it didn't really matter. Truth be told, she highly doubted the kid was still there, if she'd really been spotted at all. How would a seven year old even get this far? Hell, why would she come this far? No matter, protocol was protocol, and she had to check it out regardless. So she sighed, tucking the phone away as she clicked the flashlight on, the bulb flickering to life as it irradiated her surroundings. She took her first few steps, feet crunching in the snow as she kept her eyes wide, light brushing over everything in sight. All she needed was a small hint. The tiniest of clues to catch onto the girl's whereabouts. Marley kept her hopes up, despite past altercations. After all, you don't will yourself to find dead children. You do it for the living ones, the ones everyone still has hopes for.
She found the shed. No more than a mile and a half into her hike, jacket pulled close to her body as to preserve any warmth that rolled off her body, Marley could make out the faintest glow in the thick wood. Another flashlight, she quickly deciphered: her crew. Well, sort of. She was more or less an ex-con in the eyes of her team. She'd been let go after perusing a few too many cases that their authorities had insisted they drop. Something like that wasn't taken lightly, and poking around a closed case was not the smartest thing to do under the eye of jurisdiction. She trailed after cases nonetheless, picking up anything she could in hopes of solving cases simply dismissed. It brought peace to families, money to Marley's pocket, and in some sick manner, she found relief in a solved mystery. As if it deemed her some ulterior knowledge of the nature of the woods.
It did not. She only admitted this too late, and as she broke into the clearing, the site of the lone flashlight, dappled in a browning substance she quickly discerned as blood, her lips parted in a twitch, a silent yelp. Her own flashlight lit the crime scene before her, only small trails of blood giving away the evidence of anyone being here at all. The trail had been stomped flat, frantic footprints leading off into the woods. All of them, vanished from the site. Marley's stomach curled at the insinuation, backing up only a few feet before a gurgled moan broke off to her left. A survivor? Perhaps survivor wasn't the appropriate term, perhaps this was all a misunderstanding. But someone was certainly hurt, the broken groan drawing her closer. She bathed the body in blinding light before she could discern the man.
Men. She quickly realized that she was faced with more than one victim, heavy breathing of her crew member heard just above the groan of the next. She hadn't spotted the second man, in fact she didn't recognize the low, raspy huff of breath at all, but she assumed it was just another one of her men. She rushed forward as fast as the snow beneath her feet would allow, gaze meeting the man's glassy eyes as he stared up at her as if star-struck. Despondent, was a better word, perhaps. Concern burrowed deeper into her subconscious, a hand outstretched as she uttered the man's name, begging for a response. She got one, unfortunately.
His lips parted, a small trickle of blood escaping the corner of his mouth as it crept down his ashen face like hot lava. He only let out a whimper, eyes trembling only slightly as if to speak what he could not. Her brows knit together, lips twitching as she shook her head. No, no, elaborate,' she seemed to beg, but a reply came in a low rumble, a heart dropping at the sound she could only compare to that of a rabid animal. She staggered backwards, eyes flicking about the shadows around her as her heart-rate skyrocketed. This was no bear. She could only just make out the heavy breathing now. It had shifted, now just behind her, tucked to the left behind a grove of trees.
Oh, god. She dropped the flashlight, her lifeline, as she turned on a heel, fleeing the scene. It was too late for her men, but--Hell, not for her. Her feet stumbled as she unceremoniously tore through branches in her way, silence no longer prevailing in her distraught scramble. She wouldn't make it to the car. She'd seen too many cases, too many deaths to fool herself with such an idea. This animal, this thing, it was going to catch her if she continued down her path of destruction. She had to hide, and as the thought cropped in her mind, she spotted it.
A worn shack, seemingly misplaced in the tight knit woods. Perhaps a woodshed, or a supply shack. She didn't know. Frankly, she didn't care. And with a whimper she dashed for the shelter, lungs ablaze as she huffed strenuously. Her fingers trembled as she latched onto the handle of the shed, swinging the door open with a loud bang as she slammed it behind her. She barely fit, sore body beginning to cramp up as she pushed her body against the empty shelves. It took everything in her to keep her stomach contents down, tears blurring her vision as the grunting beast shuffled just out of sight, thrashing in the snow as its attempts at tracking her down fell futilely.
It had to be hell spawn; there was no other explanation. Taking a human stance, it was almost eerily similar to those she identified as acquaintances, her fellow man. It was disfigured beyond recognition, and she assumed her crew had done a number on the beast. Even so, it's elongated limbs and claws protruding like crude, yellowing daggers, left her in both awe and horror.
A dizzy bark broke from between it's broken lips, mellifluous as the drowned chuckle of a Siren, bent on unhinged frustration. It dragged itself forward on greasy claws bits of wood and grass, stained red and dripping, fell between the gaps of its lanky fingers. Riggs bit back a whimper, pushing up against the back of the shelves tensely. Being subjected to the human deli-slicer was not something she was looking forward to. The monster's cool gaze following the spattered blood droplets as they rolled down its wrinkled face, dropping to the floor independently. A dead expression giving away no emotion; only its tense position gave away it's distress. It knew its quarry was near, and it was infuriated by her disappearance. With an angered huff, it shuffled away from the trees that harbored it, sinew hanging from it's maw dangling like saliva. If a game of cat and mouse was what she wanted to play, the cat would participate.
Her hands had grown slick with sweat, shaking as if she had Parkinson's Disease. Marley cocked the revolver, gaze following the monstrosity as it paced just beyond the shack, unrelenting. The click resonating from inside the small hovel, painfully loud as Marley bit back a stressed string of curses. Shit. The creature let out a scream, a gurgled cry, as it's head snapped in her direction, angled in a painfully abnormal twist. She fired indefatigably, each bullet tearing into the monster's flesh without mercy. Her pale olive eyes widened, flicking across the beast's disfigured, hellish body as it shrieked out in an anguished response. Blood and gore painted the snow, the beast's entrails pecking through it's broken skin but it seemed unfazed by this. It merely hunkered lower, stomach spilling from its abdomen as it made its advance, a bipedal hobble traversing to a three-legged mad dash, a single stained claw reaching up for her. Marley was confident that it was the hand to drag her to Hell, splitting her skin as it ripped her from her haven. Her fingers continued convulsing long after she'd run out of ammunition, despairing in her frozen stance of fear. She knew there was no escape now, this monster was one of many hidden amongst the rot and vegetation of the wilderness. Succumbing to the beast wouldn't be out of the ordinary here. Perhaps ruled as a freak accident, a savage homicide case. Anything natural to the human eye, because most didn't recognize these horrors to be of nature. Not until it was too late.
It never stopped running, never ceased its attack as it screamed a drowned cry, perhaps one of victory as it cornered it ripped the girl from her hideaway. And soon, Riggs couldn't discern her own agonized screams from the monster's, red syrup pooling beneath her body as she was bid a tortured farewell.
"Police: Missing Search and Rescue Crew Recovered, Rabid Bear Attack."
