Whistling across the void, the wind throws tattered tendrils of cloud against the turned back of the waning half moon. A heavy shape darts low across the hard-baked ground. It slips through the celestial shadow with an easy grace that belies its bulk, disturbing not a tuft of half-dead grass, nor even one dusty pebble.1
Moving at a smooth, ground-devouring trot, it slips across the hillside, disappearing into the gloom beneath a pepper tree. No hint of eyeshine betrays the sweeping gaze of the lurking hunger. 2
At the base of the hill, a rock twitches. Its outline blurs, and a lean lupine head arises, peering up the slope at the tree.3
The beast in shadow lays one ear against its burly head. No sign yet.4
The crouching one pulls its head back in, becoming to all appearances a dusty boulder once more. It lies, unremarkable, alongside thousands of others beside the trail.5
Soon enough, the watcher's ears twitch upright. The sound is still distant, at least a mile away, but he can read it. The pulse of terrified feet pounding out an escape run is quite distinctive.6
They wait.7
---8
Nelson Anders was unaccustomed to fear.9
They didn't bark or snarl, but he knew the mangy bastards were gaining on him. He could feel the pressure of their hate, their hunger, on his back, like a baleful physical presence.10
Most people would be terrified. And to be sure, an ephemeral fist seemed to be squeezing his stomach into cold, greasy knots. He wasn't out of his mind with fear, though.11
He did not run in panic, but with strategic purpose.12
He allowed himself to pant, however. To gasp and stumble. He even choked out a few ragged sobs here and there.13
Hidden in shadow, the putative prey grins bright and sharp.14
---15
Hides-Beneath-Cars ducks his head as a branch looms close, shooting through the foliage beneath without slackening one iota. Tongue lolling, grinning, the wolf leaps with delight as soon as he has headroom. 16
Unlike the nightmare wolves of human fantasy, which drive their prey before them with blood-curdling howls, Hides and his packmates run in perfect vocal silence. Like forest ghosts, only muted leafy sounds announce their passage. 17
The wolf is peripherally aware of his alpha, Glass Underfoot, running a few yards ahead through the undergrowth on the opposite side of the hiking trail their quarry has chosen to flee down. Only the spirit-ties of the packbond allow him to detect her presence; her tortoise-shell coat breaks her form into fleeting shadows and nonsense shapes incomprehensible to the eye.18
It takes no effort to detect Red Eyes Dragonbreath, for the Crescent Moon is taking his turn leading the hunt. Small but sleekly proportioned, the pinto-coated wolf charges up the center of the trail behind his packmates. 19
Overhead, a single crow cocks its head at the wolves as they pass beneath its branch. 20
Feeling the eyes of their totem upon them, the wolves increase their pace. When the crow leaves its branch to fly after the pack, the Crescent Moon Dragonbreath breaks the silence.21
Heartened by this omen, the Black Arrow pack howls in glee, shivering the twilight air with the chill of their Rage.22
---23
Panting, grunting with exertion, Anders dragged himself up the steepening trail, fighting the incline with every ounce of strength available. He was making good progress, too, considering his waistline. Remarkably good progress.24
To the summit, he exhorted himself. Just gotta make it... to the summit. 25
Red-faced, wheezing, he desperately wished he could take a rest, but he forged on. If the rabid things caught him with his back turned, they would kill him before he could say "Animal Control."26
Gotta get to the top. Just a hundred yards further or so.27
Oblivious to the crazed bulge in his own eyes, his victim's gaunt face and tortured body language, Anders began to smile.28
Once he secured the higher ground position, he would be safe. 29
His new friend would take care of everything.30
Just have to reach the summit, and tomorrow I'll be watching Lupita stitch their pelts into a rug for my den.31
The grin that split the oilman's face then was just a bit too bloodthirsty to be convincingly human. Around the bend, the first pile of rocks was just coming into view.32
Almost there.33
---34
Hiding Bones senses the prey approaching and tightens himself. He must let the prey run by, so as to cut off its escape down the hillside once his Full Moon friend launches his ambush from above. The Red Talon's instincts prod him to lunge the instant the prey comes in range, but he reins them in, holstering the power for when he needs it.35
Then the prey does come into sight. Only his hunter's discipline stops a horrified gasp from escaping. 36
Immediately, Hiding Bones lifts his foreleg to his lupine mouth. Carefully, trying not to break the hemp twine securing it to his wrist, the wolf nips one of the charms off the bracelet. It is a mockingbird's feather. 37
He has just enough time to send a spiritual warning, and an apology for breaking from the plan, to the other members of the hunting pack before their prey rounds the bend. 38
Stone's Throw and the Crow pack are expecting a simple human in the throes of Delirium madness, not a demon-ridden monster all too able to stand against them. 39
With a thundering snarl, Hiding Bones explodes out of hiding and throws himself at the prey. 40
---41
Anders didn't make it to the summit.42
Just as he had begun to round the bend in the trail, one of the rocks on the ground had thrown itself at him. The oilman's hands flew up to catch the attacker... as did the writhing tentacles disguised as corpulent fat beneath his three-button suit. 43
Anders' mad grin gaped wider, stretching into a horrible lamprey, revealing the transformation of his blunt primate teeth into flat cutting tools, serrated and sharklike. 44
The wolf's deadly jaws snapped shut midair, inches from Anders' throat, as the tentacles caught him midleap. A terrified squeal issued from the beast, and Anders laughed.45
"Stupid mutt," the oilman chortled, trembling with delight at the terror in the animal's eyes. The emotion seemed to come less from himself than from something else nestled deep inside, but this dichotomy didn't bother Anders. He wasn't empty anymore because his special friend was there, nestled snugly inside the hole in his heart. 46
Anders didn't intend to let that precious gift go to waste. 47
Oblivious to running paws approaching, the oilman hummed a discordant rhythm, squeezing the wolf ever-tighter in his tentacles. Brilliant crimson anemones of light burst and pulsed in his vision.48
He was beginning to feel hungry...49
---50
Stone's Throw jerks upright when Hiding Bones' warning thrums across his awareness. Fomori. Fuck me sideways with a hatchet.51
He throws himself out of his hiding place, his lupine body instantly exploding outward into the half-human war shape as pure white-hot fury pulses through him.52
Overhead, the half moon stands radiant and clean in the sky, illuminating the battlefield all too clearly. A rocky hillside, treacherous terrain, lies between him and the prey. The Full Moon is too resilient a beast to be seriously hurt by a fall, but he has no time to waste. 53
Even drawing on his inner fury, the beginning of the battle seems to stutter, individual snapshot-scenes jerking rudely across the werewolf's senses. 54
His wolf's body is stretching, expanding, exploding up and outward. His vision telescopes into full chromatic clarity in time to see Hiding Bones abandon the rock-illusion and attack.55
Stone's Throw is on all fours now, plummeting down the hillside, still-lupine jaws thrown wide to accommodate the volcanic bellow tearing itself free. He launches himself from rock to rock with his taloned hands, throwing his tail the other direction for balance.56
With a frog's-back texture, the tentacles burst out of the three-piece suit, an appalling corpse-flowering, to envelop the No-Moon scout. 57
The jawless nightmare mouth razoring ever-wider, inches from the struggling wolf's face.58
Six-inch talons burying themselves in what once was a pale, fleshy human neck, just beneath that hideous and unauthorized orifice. 59
Stone's Throw shudders as the prey emits a ululating squeal, a thoroughly inhuman sound, and time catches up to itself again, resuming a more normal progression.60
Like a cascade of breaking glass, the possessed man's inner demon screams protest, throwing its prize aside like so much dirty laundry in order to enwrap Stone's Throw instead. The No Moon thuds dully against the dirt.61
Stone's Throw turns his head to make sure Hiding Bones is alive, and in that split-second of distraction the monster strikes, its awful appendages coiling around the werewolf's long forearms before the Full Moon can escape. 62
Hissing, gasping, Stone's Throw jerks himself backward, trying desperately to escape the acidic caress of the cephalopodic assault. The sizzle of fur and skin beneath that unholy touch dances and crackles in his ears, along with the whirlwind howl of hatred echoing from the enemy's jawless hagfish mouth. Another tentacle lashes cruelly around his throat. Dimly, Stone's Throw is aware of his friend's broken whimpering, the dull hiss of scalded flesh. 63
Dry panic nibbling at his heart. 64
Running feet.65
Dark shapes rounding the bend.66
Rejecting the fox inside, the Full Moon roars his defiance, snapping at the nearest obscene appendage, while simultaneously a set of massive talons burst through the monster's chest, spraying Stone's Throw with stinking ichor. 67
Hides-Under-Cars throws himself past the well-engaged Glass Underfoot, seizes one corpulent arm in his jaws, while Dragonbreath goes for the tendons.68
The monster goes down.69
---70
Anders went down.71
Thrashing, desperate, he felt his new occupant screaming, thrashing in its own desperation, a mad echo of his own self. This was as it should be, but everything else was wrong. Desperately wrong.72
One darkness yawned beneath him. Another coiled around him like a barbed safety net. Even as it ripped his flesh, he tried to cling to it... but like morning dew, the thorned ropes retreated, evaporated, swirling up and away as if they never were.73
The emptiness inside gaped wide, ripped open again.74
Abandoned. 75
Bereft.76
Anders fell into an abyss of gleaming teeth, lost in bitter darkness.
Author notes
I commented on "King's Taster" by Much-Dipstick.
A contest entry
- Blood on the Moon: From Vampires to Werewolves by H.A.Johnson.
500 points, ended June 24, 2008, 20 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next story in this contest, remove from contest - Almost Anything Goes! by toolenduso.
450 points, ended July 13, 2008, 41 entries
Honorable mention
• next story in this contest, remove from contest - On a Blood Moon Night (Werewolves and Vampires) by demonp3n.
225 points, ended July 7, 2008, 12 entries
• next story in this contest, remove from contest - Under the Moonlight Contest by GrimDeath.
350 points, ended September 5, 2008, 15 entries
• next story in this contest, remove from contest - Believable supernatural! by cole3313.
350 points, ended October 26, 2008, 20 entries
• next story in this contest, remove from contest - Topics! by Celestial Rose.
270 points, ended November 2, 2008, 15 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next story in this contest, remove from contest - o_O Supernatural O_o by Storms.
115 points, ended November 25, 2008, 19 entries
• next story in this contest, remove from contest
Does the ending feel satisfying or rushed?
Comments
1 - 13 of 13
-
Wow... this story both had me baffled and yet hypnotized...
...I lost track of the plot, who was hunting who and why but then I didn't care anymore...
...because your amazing language kept me engaged. I couldn't stop reading, as the flow and the descriptions were even poetic. Even the names of the Werewolves seemed apart of the poem.
The story-line was confusing as I wondered where the tendrils came from; but then it kind of worked in your favour as the next thing I knew, it appeared the Werewolves had gone from predators to prey.
I'm still confused as where tendrils comes into this? But I don't care. Your story is fluid like a river, as the current just keeps pushing the reader along for the ride.
beginning: 5, language: 5, plot: 2, ending: 5, dialog: 5, characters: 2.
-
-
They burst from Anderson's chest. It's described in paragraph 43, first. Basically, he seemed like he was immensely fat, but then the tentacles burst out to catch Hiding Bones and reveal themselves for what they are. He's still fat, but not *that* much.
Anderson is an oil company executive who's been possessed by a Bane (evil spirit/demon, basically.) The Bane has turned him into a fomori, a sort of demon-human hybrid enslaved to the demon's corrupt impulses and needs, twisted physically by the thing's presence in the flesh. The werewolves consider fomori and Banes abominations, unworthy to exist, and so hunt them down. They also, however, hunt down people who severely abuse the environment.
Stone's Throw and Hiding Bones were waiting in ambush, and the Black Arrow pack (the other three) were supposed to drive Anderson into the ambush. But they didn't know Anderson was fomori. Hiding Bones saw it first and gave a warning via a fetish (a magic item, sort of) before attacking to try to give the others time to take it down.
How could I make the storyline less confusing? -
-
Thanks for replying to my response...
... and explaining the story line in further details. Wow! (in a good way) Even your story notes read as a short story by itself!
In my opinion, you have a very unique writing style that was used in your story 'Ambush'. When I read your story, it came out like a poem inside of my head thanks to your apt descriptions. It's only this reader's opinion that the descriptiveness over-shadowed the action in the story so this reader lost track of what was happening to whom and why.
You asked how could you make your story less confusing to this reader? Hmm, good question. I actually thought about this over a couple of days. If you decided to edit the story to make it more action and less descriptive, then it might sacrifice the poetic imagery used. This would be a huge shame since this is what is engaging about this piece.
Personally, I save every bit of feedback I get on my work on my writing - the good and the bad. Then when I edit or revise my story, I decide which feedback to use.
I enjoyed reading your story and I wanted to share my reaction to it with you. I think it's more dissatisfying when a person reads your work and doesn't comment on it. Then it makes me wonder if they even read it at all?
It's because of this, I try to comment honestly on how I took the story. Then it's the writer's discretion how they would like to use that feedback.
-
-
-
Wow. Great story! I am captured by the words, they are so...so...um...words can't form what I want to say! This is a great story. I would like to read more!
-
THis story was really ineresting. You have a good eye for detail. Good luck and thanks for entering my contest.
-
Very interesting. The Details and descriptions are wonderful. Everything thing flows wonderful and it creates a great effect. Thank You for entering and Good Luck.
-
Wow. This is an impressive piece. For one, I've never even considered the idea of using tense as a symbolic writing device.
There were a lot of things I really liked about this story, actually. The tribal feel of the whole thing, the (symbolic?) man with oil in his chest instead of a heart. The awesome writing style.
It can be hard to write action scenes well, but you have succeeded, I believe.
I want to congratulate you on a great job, and thank you for entering!
Style: 10/10
Flow: 9/10
Uniqueness: 5/5
Readability: 6/7
Effect: 8/10
Lack of Errors: 3/3
Personal Score: 5/5
Total: 46/50 -
This was an amazing story. There were a few things that confused me though. The shear amount of werewolves made it hard to distinguish one form the other. Also I'd like to know exactly what Anders is. Parts of the story made him seem like a normal human, whereas others made him seem like a demon.
The imagry was amazing and it was very enjoyable to read. I loved how you showed both the pack's PoV and Anders's PoV.
Good job, and good luck in the contest.
-
-
I did my best to give them distinctive personalities, names, and descriptions/feel... how can I make them stand out from each other better?
I did my best to convey Anders' state, but I guess I failed.
He's a human that's become possessed by an unclean spirit. In the beginning, the Bane is only inside him, but later on he allows it to manifest into his flesh in order to fight the werewolves.
Any advice you have about improving this is deeply appreciated. Thank you! -
-
With the werewolves, I think that it might be that there's a lot of them. It makes it a little difficult to keep track of all of them. Hmm, I don't know how you'd be able to make them stand out more without distracting from the story. It was really difficult to process in the beginning, but it got easier as the story progressed.
With Anders, it was really the tenticle thing that threw me off. I was like, "Wait, is he human or, not?"
This is just my opinion though.
-
-
-
I love the way this story is written, the detail, the story... all wonderful!! I enjoyed this a lot and think that this story is perfect just like it is. : )
-
On starting to read, I had two distinct thoughts. Thought no. 1 - "Yes! Imagery. Finally some setting development!" It's a lovely and rare thing on storywrite from what I've seen and I appreciate some concrete imagery.
Thought no. 2 - "Ugh, a tense switch." Probably not intended. I know how sneaky they can be. First sentence is past tense, second (and the rest of part 1) is present tense.
Also, while I enjoyed the description, there was some ambiguity in the sentences. The first sentences of a story are crucial! There is no space for ambiguity. Here, the writers job is to throw out a hook too delicious for a casual reader to ignore.
"Whistling across the face of the void, the wind threw tattered tendrils of cloud against the turned back of the waning half moon."
Here is all that is concrete about this sentence (what the reader can imagine):
Whistling, the wind threw tattered tendrils of cloud against the waning half moon.
Now here is what I don't get:
the face of the void,
the turned back
What's this void face?
Turned back of the moon?
Rule 143 and 365 of writing state: "Don't overestimate the intelligence/imagination of the reader" and "Readers read words, not minds"
They're relevant here because I bet you knew exactly what those were supposed to be, but the description turned out too bare to actually allow the reader to imagine it. Perhaps a slight revision? (Or I'd just prune down)
But yes, I won't get further hung up on the beginning. Still, final note - don't overexplain. The intrusion of a narrator is one of the surest ways to remind the reader that this is just a story, and not real. Example:
"Moving at a smooth, ground-devouring trot, it slips across the hillside, disappearing into the gloom beneath a pepper tree as if it had never existed."
The piece of the sentence I'd pick at is "As if it had never existed". Bashing the reader over the head much? If he disappeared, surely that's enough to get that idea across. Overtelling can affect the read just as negatively as being unclear. It's a fine line to tread, but when walked well, it leads to some solidly amaizng prose.
The fragment in paragraph 13 is nicely done, supporting the mood. The second part doesn't really resonnate for me. In my opinion, there is too much intrusion by the narrator. It's almost as if I'm hearing a retelling of the story from some stuffy person. There is also a clash of tone. "Mangy bastards" yet "Most humans would be terrified", "to be sure", and "he allowed himself".
If this is meant to be a summary from a stiff narrator, than it should focus on that formality and wordiness. If it wishes to draw the reader into the action, then the extra wordiness really kills the story.
"Hides-Beneath-Cars" very nice opening for this part.
A few more thoughts on style, and the I promise, I'll lay off.
Words like "appeared" and any variation on "is", "was", "were", "Will be", "Had been" etc makes for boring and passive sentences when used commonly. Of course this isn't a suggestion to remove them all from your writing, but often, it's often effective to limit their use.
Why is Rage capitalized? Seems odd and makes the reader stop and think about it. If this was the purpose behind it, then it's all good.
"If the rabid things caught him with his back turned, they would kill him before he could say "Animal Control.""
Nice. I'm enjoying the sardonic humor that the parts with Anders have. Also, this part seems much more engaging and stronger prose-wise. It almost seems as if the beginning was a sort of warm up. Perhaps this part about Anders could be the first part with a complete deletion of the one before?
The intelligence of the wolf pack delights me. Hiding Bones instantly won my sympathy. That scene was well crafted. Though Paragraph 41 intrudes on the story again. Is it necessary to have a commentator?
Read the rest at a slightly fast pace - mainly because any comments I could make I already did about the style. Though the transition between the last two parts was great. Very nicely structured for greater effect.
Overall I've to say, this is a quality story. It can certainly be pruned some and polished down, but the bones are there, and they are solid bones.
So yes, a few thoughts that I hope will not be entirely un-useful.
Kind regards,
Solidarity
-
-
*dies of happy*
That's exactly the kind of stuff I was hoping for. Stylistic critique is what I especially need, honestly. I'm an artist, really, not a writer; I have a horrid tendency to paint with words rather than actually *writing*. I hated my own writing for a long time, actually, because it sounds so pretentious to my own ears. But trying to make myself write any other way sounds even worse, so now I'm just focusing on trying to tune it down a bit, aim it effectively at least. There's a lot of stuff in here I hadn't thought about, like the bit about passive sentences.
I write in different tenses for different characters; essentially, characters that live in the moment use present tense, and characters that think in more typically human-like past-or-future-favoring ways use past tense. It's not entirely a conscious decision -- that's just how they come out naturally -- but I choose to *keep* it that way because I like emphasising the difference in thought processes between the humanoid and not-so-humanoid characters.
Yes, Rage is capitalized for a reason. ^^ If this were part of a larger series of stories, which I suppose it will be eventually, the reason for the capitalization would be explained.
Honestly, it was the ending I was most worried about, because I wrote it a long time after I did the rest and I wasn't feeling very well. Apparently it's the earlier parts where I wasn't quite on the ball, though! Oh well. Thank you *very* much for this in-depth treatment. I'd be overjoyed to trade with you again sometime. ^^
-
Adding your comment:
1 - 13 of 13
