Small Beginnings
Small Beginnings
“Kael!”
“Yes Mr. Hardis?”
“I want you to organize the canned goods, they’re all out of order.”
“Yes Mr. Hardis.”
“And go put all the carts in the proper place, it looks like a hurricane hit them!”
“Yes Mr. Hardis.”
“And the customer’s bathroom is clogged again. You know where the plunger is.”
“Yes…Mr. Hardis.”
It seems those three words are the only ones that I have ever spoken to my boss, Donovan Hardis. I’ve always bowed my head, muttered a quick affirmation, and just went on my merry little way without question. For the past two years, that’s pretty much been my life summed up in one sentence.
Yes Mr. Hardis.
And nothing else.
My name is Kael Maalouf. If you think that’s a strange name, then take solace in the fact that you aren’t the first and certainly won’t be the last. My mother emigrated from Ireland, and when I was born, and she wanted to give me a Gaelic name that would fit with the last name of my Lebanese father. No, I have absolutely no clue how an Irish lady and a Lebanese man found each other in Canada or how they had enough in common to fall in love and get married, all I know is that it happened. Thus, Kael Maalouf.
I’m an even six feet tall, short brown hair and brown eyes, and a light tan skin colour, all of which I inherited all from my dad. If you weren’t told in no uneven terms that I was related to my mother, you would never guess that we were related with her fair skin and sandy coloured hair.
My name is Kael Maalouf, I live in one of the dirtiest and shittiest part of Toronto in Scarborough (although I could live in a lot worse), I work at a grocery store, and I only have a highschool diploma.
My name is Kael Maalouf, and so far, life hasn’t been the greatest to me. Such as right now, as I desperately try to unclog a toilet whose pipes must be the diameter of a freakin dime with how often they get blocked, and the only thing I have to comfort me is the knowledge that I’ll have plenty of other menial tasks to do when I’m done.
The toilet put up a good fight, but I eventually prevailed, sending the disgusting water down the drain with a wet gurgle and a satisfying sigh. I washed my hands and tossed the plunger into the maintenance closet outside of the bathroom, not caring to wash it off as I knew that it would just get dirty when it and I go through the same song and dance tomorrow. And besides, I’m the only one who ever uses this closet, so it’s not like anybody’s the wiser.
The tag I wear on the dark red collared shirt says that I’m an assistant stocks organizer. That’s just a fancy way of saying that I do the work that nobody else does. The boring and the gross, day in and day out.
“Kael!”
“Yes Mr. Hardis?”
“You done with that toilet?”
“Yes Mr. Hardis.”
“Finally. Go and clean out the deep freezer. Some bags of meat had holes in them and the liquid on the inside leaked out and froze. It smells like shit, I want that fixed.”
“Yes Mr. Hardis”
Mr. Donovan Hardis, the cheapest man I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. He holds onto a quarter tighter then he would his own unborn child’s life, and wouldn’t spit on a puppy if it was on fire, saying it was his moisture, he worked for it, so why waste it on a dumb dog? It’s rather impressive really. Some people think that they’ve seen the lowest of the low in the world, but then they meet good ol’ Mr Hardis, or Mr Hardass as he is colloquially known, and they realize just how wrong they are, and that there is always a little bit of innocence left just waiting to be squashed.
He treats his employees like shit, because he knows that if they are working for him, then they’ve probably reached rock bottom, and he knows that they have no other option. And in my case, that’s true. I used to be in college, studying psychology as that was the only thing I could find that created a spark of interest in my mind, but after my dad was killed by a drunk driver while on the way to visit me from the small town in which he lived in Northern Ontario, I’ve lost the drive to make something of myself.
I sort of fell out of college when that happened a few years ago. My dad and I were pretty close, and the shock hit me hard enough to pulverize any chances I had of focusing on school. So I decided that I shouldn’t bother paying for classes that I knew I would fail, and I dropped out. I didn’t blame myself for what happened, as I knew that it was a freak accident born of stupidity and alcohol on the other drivers' part, but it still hit me pretty hard.
Where there once was a moderately intelligent and somewhat boring young man, there is now an apathetic husk. The only use of which seems to be cleaning up other people’s shit, literally and figuratively.
My name is Kael Maalouf, and I’m fucking miserable.
I quickly made my way home through the streets of Toronto, eager to get back to my small apartment. It was 8 PM, and the streets were still pretty crowded, so I didn’t really have any reason to fear being out at night. Relatively speaking, Toronto is a sorta safe place. I know that there are many cities much more dangerous than this one, and I’m well aware that the chances of me being hurt by any undesirables were slim, especially since it was so early into the night.
Unfortunately, this knowledge did absolutely nothing to actually prevent me from hating being on the streets at night. All around me were people who were talking, laughing, walking, and otherwise going about their own business. They had nothing to do with me, and I had nothing to do with them. Rationally, I knew this. Irrationally, it still terrified me.
To put it short, I’m a bloody coward. It’s something I’ve come to terms with a long time ago after many attempts to find a solution have failed. I’m absolutely terrified of anything that has the smallest chance of harming me, be it other people who look even the slightest bit dodgy, or any creature that has teeth. I don’t associate myself with many people because of this due to the fact that I’m usually too damn scared to talk to anybody I don’t know. For some reason, my mind is set on the idea that, if I annoy or inconvenience somebody in the slightest, they’re going to shove a knife through my ribs.
Stupid, I know. What makes it even more stupid is that, mentally I’m weak, but physically I’m pretty dang strong. When I was a little bit younger, I went to taekwondo classes for eight years, getting my 2nd degree black belt. I was pretty close to getting my third too. Despite my cowardice, I knew that if I was in the right mindset, I could royally mess somebody up.
Unfortunately, the right mindset could only be achieved when I was in a safe environment where I knew I wasn’t in any real danger. The only time I could get myself to raise my fists was in the dojang when I was with a sparring partner, and when I was wearing padded equipment. When those conditions were met, I was a beast in combat. I even once knocked a guy out cold for a few minutes from a spectacular hook-kick to the side of the head. I was so in my element that I forgot to restrain myself at the time, and even though the fault technically was his as it was his duty to avoid or block the kick, I still felt terrible for it. Thankfully, the guy was fine. He even complimented me for it.
If I ever were in a confrontation on the street however, any and all training that I had would instantly become worthless. As soon as actual danger is factored into the equation, I became as defenceless as a child. That’s why, every night after work, I always make my way back to my apartment as quickly as possible while trying to make myself look as non threatening as possible. I just put my hands in my pockets, put my head down, and look at nobody. So far, it hasn’t failed me.
I was in an unusually good mood tonight, mainly due to the fact that it was raining. I’ve always liked the rain, although I don’t rightly know why. All I know is that every time I’m out in the rain, or can hear the tapping of the drops hitting the ground in the background, I’m much more quick to smile. It’s a mental thing I suppose.
I live approximately 40 minutes away from my work in a dingy apartment building in the middle of a neighbourhood consisting of small, run-down houses. It wasn’t luxurious, with its terrible plumbing, non functioning heater, and thin walls that muffle sound as well a chainmail fence, but it was dirt cheap which was good enough for me.
I cut through a small playground like I did every night to help shave off a few minutes on my walk. I could hear the sound of the rainwater tinkling against the smooth aluminum of the children’s slide as I walked past it, and the creaking of a rusty swingset was ever present as it was disturbed by the slight wind.
This was the best kind of rain. The kind that was made of big, fat drops that hammered into the ground, but didn’t fall fast enough that it was a outright downpour. I paused in the middle of the empty park, the moisture slowly starting to seep in through my cheap shoes. I gave a shuddering sigh, made sure there was nobody around, and turned my head up to the sky to better feel the rain hitting my face.
I smiled slightly as the drops pounded on my eyelids and streaked through my messy hair. It was a euphoric feeling, one devoid of worry or distress. I let the thoughts that were clouding my mind dissipate, revelling in the feeling of the emptiness that followed. I was completely calm, and for the moment, slightly happy.
“OW!”
I yelled as my moment of peace was interrupted as a small, hard object collided with the middle of my forehead. My hand immediately went up to the spot where I was hit with god knows what, and my eyes started to water.
I started to look around, thinking that someone must have thrown a rock at me or something. Figures, I finally get a moment of peace all by my lonesome, and some tool has to throw a rock at me. If I weren’t such a baby when it comes to dealing with other people, I would have thrown one right back.
Or at least, I would if I could see anybody. I was expecting to see a group of punk kids, probably with their pants around their knees and their hats on sideways, pointing at me and laughing. Instead, all I found was a few trees and the rusted figures of the playground around me. As nervous as I was, I wasn’t about to think that an old see-saw had started throwing rocks at me, so I came to the conclusion that I was alone. The perpetrator had probably bolted by now.
It soon occurred to me to look down and see what had hit me. I turned my head back downwards and was met with a curious sight. In the sand below was a single shiny ring.
I looked around again, but still couldn’t see anybody around me. Figuring whoever had thrown it had run off, I bent down to pick it up, muttering to myself all the while.
“Seriously, who the hell throws jewellery at people?” I grumbled as I took the ring between my forefinger and thumb. I could immediately tell that it was made of metal, but because of the lack of light due to the late hour and the rainclouds above me, I couldn’t tell what kind of metal or discern any other features.
I sighed. “Oh well, I guess it’s mine now.” Since some twathead had been so generous with their possessions, I might as well keep the ring. Who knows, it might be worth something and the idiot didn’t know. Although, knowing my luck, it’s much more likely that it was made of tin rather than gold.
I put the ring in my pocket and continued on my way, my good mood ruined by the rude interruption. I brought my hand back up to my forehead and rubbed the spot that was hit. I’d be lucky if that didn’t bruise. I bit back another curse.
I power walked the rest of my way home, now eager to have a happy reunion with my bed. By the time I had reached my apartment, it was almost 9. At this point I was so weary, both mentally and physically, that I forgot all about the ring in my pocket, took off all of my clothes, and flopped onto my small bed, instantly falling asleep.
Morning came too soon, as it always does, the rude bastard. I dragged my arm out from under the pillow that I was laying face down on, and slammed it against my alarm clock, hoping that it would be convinced to shut up its incessant beeping. Unfortunately, the damned hunk of plastic couldn’t take a hint, so it took several arms flails to get it to quiet.
I groaned as I plopped myself up on my arms, stretching like a waking cat. My back popped in several spots, the brief spouts of pain and relief helping my wake up out of my sleepy reverie. Nothing wakes you up like giving yourself late onset arthritis, no sirree.
I dragged myself out of bed and blearily pulled on a pair of boxer shorts that I found in a pile of unsorted laundry I had yet to put away. I then made my way to the kitchen, where I threw open the fridge door and pulled out a big granny smith apple. I took a bite out of it without bothering to wash it first. I couldn’t help but laugh slightly when I took full stock of my situation. Ain’t the bachelor’s life grand?
My good humour slowly dissipated. The looming prospect of work started to enter my mind, and I resigned myself to a day of menial labour as I made my way back to room in order to get changed with my apple in hand.
I pulled out my backup red uniform shirt that I used when the other one was dirty, and hastily threw it over my head. I didn’t bother using a different pair of black jeans then the ones I had used yesterday. Everybody knows that jeans don’t get dirty after all.
I noticed something curious in the right pocket of my jeans, and when I dug my hand through it to investigate; I came out with the ring that I had picked up yesterday. It sat in the palm of my hand as I recollected the events that ended up with it being in my possession.
Wait a minute…I found this thing yesterday…yesterday was Friday…today’s Saturday…
Oh shit, I’m not going to work today!
I grinned as I remembered that I didn’t have any obligations to anybody other than myself today. Then I groaned as I realized that I could have easily just slept in this morning. I was tempted to go back to bed, but I knew that the chances of me actually falling back to sleep was unlikely, so I abandoned the idea.
The cool metal in the palm of my hand drew my attention back to it. The ring was an intricate yet simple band with a strange design on it. From what I could tell, it looked like a majestic four legged horse with wings that were curled along the length of its back. A long horn protruded from the head of the figure, almost touching its flowing tail on its other end. The figure was elegantly lined within the metal on the outside of the ring, resulting in a fairly pleasing image.
The picture of the flying horse thing was a little strange, but I didn’t pay much attention to it. Instead, my mind was drawn to the material of the ring that glowed yellow in the morning light. My eyes lit up in sudden realization.
“Shit…I think this is gold…” I muttered to myself in awe. I didn’t know much about fine metals, but I knew what shiny yellow paint looked like, and it definitely didn’t look like this. From the looks of it, this ring could actually be valuable.
I laughed out loud at the thought of somebody throwing away a ring that could easily be worth a few hundred dollars. Whatever idiot threw this must be either extraordinarily dumb, or extraordinarily unlucky. Either way, it was looking like things were starting to look up for me. I quickly pulled on my belt and grabbed my smartphone (mandatory to every big city dweller), and made my way out the door in a hurry. Any thoughts of going back to bed had quickly been replaced with something far more important.
“I’ll give ya 20 bucks for it.”
My jaw dropped. 20 dollars? For a golden ring? That’s bloody criminal! I made sure to voice my displeasure at the walking bucket of lard behind the counter.
“For crying out loud Mitch, this is gold we’re talking about here. I don’t know how much you think gold is worth, but it’s a lot more than just 50 dollars.”
Mitch snorted, sending his double chin flapping as though it was caught in an unseen wind. “I don’t know what gave you the idea that this was gold kid, but it sure as hell ain’t.”
Mitch was the owner of a fairly successful, if somewhat shady, pawn shop. I came to his place in the hopes of selling off the trinket to him and making a pretty penny, one that would really help me with bills, rent, and food. He was an extremely heavy man with permanently greasy skin and whispy blond hair. He had a facial structure similar to that of a bulldog with a heavy jaw and too much skin to fill his head.
“Well then what is it?” I asked him indignantly. Mitch merely shrugged his shoulder, sending his chin and jowls into more wobbly shakes.
“Hell if I know. All I know is that it isn’t gold.” He answered.
I opened and closed my mouth for a few moments like a fish out of water. I sighed dejectedly and kneaded my brow with the heel of my palm. I looked back up to Mitch who was looking at me expectantly.
“Well…even so, don’t you think 20 is a little low?” I asked in a small voice.
Mitch raised an eyebrow, severely unimpressed with my pathetic attempt at haggling. “Kid, as far as I know, this thing could be made aluminum. It’s pretty to look at, sure, but it ain’t got any selling point other then that. I’ll give ya 20 for it, no more.”
I looked at Mitch in despair. If he was right about the ring not being gold, and he most likely was as he examined jewellery on a daily basis, then it probably wasn’t worth anything near what I was hoping it to be.
The ring was sitting on the glass counter between us. I glared at it, demanding an explanation as for how it could lead me on like this, but eventually I sighed, realizing that this was probably my fault for getting my hopes up so quickly.
“You know what…I’ll just keep it.” I said slowly as I grabbed the ring from the counter and shoved it into my pocket. I might as well own a snazzy piece of jewellery that I could use to impress people, even if it was faker then a 3 dollar bill.
Mitch shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
I nodded and mumbled a “thank you for your time” before I slumped out of the pawn shop, my hopes of leaving with a heavy pocket crushed.
By the time I got back to my apartment, I wasn’t in the mood to do anything. Usually I would spend my days off of work reading, watching T.V, or otherwise relaxing, but right now I couldn’t even work up the motivation to fall asleep.
I cursed myself for my idiocy. I should know better than to let my hopes up for something that may or may not be true, like a ring that could be worth a lot of money. I had looked at it, made an uninformed decision about its worth, and when it turned out to be nearly worthless, I start to feel like shit. I only have myself to blame, but that doesn’t make it any less depressing.
I stood in the center of my apartment. It had only 3 rooms, the main room which was a combination of living room and kitchen, the bathroom, and the bedroom, all of which were nearly too small for a person to live in. Thankfully, my low paying job didn’t allow me to buy much of anything, so it was very sparsely furnished with only the barest necessities.
I took the not-gold ring out of my pocket and looked at it with a sigh, resigning myself to the fact that it was just a pretty bauble and that its only value was aesthetical. Feeling a little bit better about my situation, a slipped the ring on the pointer finger on my right hand. It was a little loose, but at this point, I couldn’t care less.
Before I even took one step I knew something was wrong. The ring in my finger went from cool to very hot in a matter of seconds. I looked down at it in shock, and I gasped when I saw that the lines that made up the design of the winged horse creature were glowing an ominous red. I quickly moved to pull the ring off my finger, but before I could, the impossible happened.
The ring itself changed its shape. It somehow made itself smaller so that it went from fitting loosely around my finger to clamping shut on it like a vice. The light emanating from it brightened as it slowly started to get hotter, almost to the point that it felt like it was burning my skin. My eyes widened in terror as I desperately tried to yank it off of my hand.
The ring wouldn’t give no matter how hard I pulled at it. I started to whimper slightly, now becoming downright terrified of this crazy little loop of metal. My head was starting to hurt and my vision was becoming cloudy in a feeling not unlike a major head rush. I could feel the heart pounding in my chest as my vision darkened more and more and as my dizziness increased until eventually I couldn’t stand up anymore.
I collapsed on the dirty carpet. The last thing I saw before blacking out entirely was the crimson glow of the ring emanating from the hand that had fallen in front of my face.
Today was the day that I experienced my first night terror, something I had only heard about but thankfully never understood the true meaning of. I had considered them to just be nightmares that were extra scary. I was wrong. They were fear incarnate.
My sleep was being tainted by the most terrifying nightmare I had ever had. I was floating in a dark, misty void while a pair of gigantic blood red eyes with retinas that were a sickly green colour. I could see a fine veil of purple emanating from the edges of the eyes as they studied with what felt like a combination of malice and contempt. I couldn’t move to run away, or open my mouth to scream.
“At long last…”
A voice had resonated in my mind, each word long and drawn out. I couldn’t pinpoint its source as it sounded like it was coming from all around me and from inside me all at once. It was a voice that was so filled anger and hatred that it would have almost been comical if it weren’t so terrifying. The eyes just continued to glare at me as I floated in space.
“The ring…has returned...”
I had started to feel a pulsing burning sensation on my hand where I knew the ring I had found was. I would have looked into it had the menacing eyes allowed me to look away from them.
“Now…I will be WHOLE!”
A giant mouth appeared underneath the malevolent eyes. It opened to reveal a row of incredibly long and deadly looking fangs, the smallest of which looked to be slightly taller then me. The gaping maw approached me with a roar, and my mind nearly tore itself apart as I mentally screamed from the primal fear that coursed through my body.
I was consumed by the void as the jaws of the monstrosity clamped over me. Somewhere in the edge of my mind, I heard screaming that sounded a lot like mine.
“AAAAAAAAHHH!”
I woke up violently, thrashing my arms above my head and kicking my legs out around me.
“Aaaaah…aaah…”
I panted heavily as curled into a ball where I lay, shivering from the remnants of the fear that I had just experienced. I started to sob uncontrollably as my body started to spasm and convulse. I feared that I was going to throw up.
I lay there for what felt like hours. My mind was replaying the horrible images and feelings that I had been subjected to. Eventually, I stopped sobbing, my throat feeling raw and my face hot from the tears.
My heart rate slowed as I started to calm down. Only then did I start to realize that something was very wrong with my situation.
I perked my ears, listening. I could very clearly hear the chirping of birds and the sounds of the wind passing through a canopy of leaves. What struck me as odd however, was how in the world I could hear leaves when the closest tree to my apartment was a 15 minute walk away.
I also noticed that I could feel something tickling my cheek, like I was laying down on a field of grass. It was when the smell of dirt and mud started to assault my nose did I realize what the problem was.
I quickly sat up to find that I was lying in grass. Not only that, but I was in the middle of a damn forest. Massive trees, the biggest ones I had ever seen in my entire life, surrounded me as I lay in the middle of a small and remote clearing.
I looked around dumbly from where I was sitting. As I gazed at this completely new environment, I could only think of one thing to say.
“What the hell did I do last night?" I whispered to nothing.
No answer was forthcoming from assorted plant life all around me. I took a moment to search my memories to try and remember how I wound up in the middle of a forest. After a while pulling at faint recollections, it all came back to me in a flood of realization.
I remembered getting back to my apartment and putting that ring on, and then getting dizzy and passing out. I looked down at my hand and saw that the ring was still firmly clamped down on the bottom of my ring ringer.
I frowned at it, remembering how it shrunk down from its original size and how it glowed with that strange red light. Something was profoundly wrong with this seemingly innocuous piece of jewellery, and I didn’t like having it on me.
I tried to pull the wring off my finger, but it was stuck as firmly as though it were welded into my skin. I tried to pull it off with my teeth but only succeeded in giving myself a slight toothache. After a few minutes of desperately clawing at my hand, I gave up.
I pulled myself up from the ground and looked around. There were no trails or signs that I could follow, so I figured that I must have been pretty deep within the forest. I had absolutely no idea how I got there, but that was something I was going to think about later when I was back safely in my apartment.
I checked my pockets to see what I had on me. I had my wallet which held only a 20 dollar bill and a few cards, and my smartphone which had less then half its full capacity of power left. There was no signal unfortunately.
I felt the fear starting to seep into my mind as the reality of my situation started to sink in. I was miles away from civilization, I had no knowledge of how to survive in the wilderness, and I had no way to find my way back. Death was a very real possibility in this forest.
Before I could dwell on this fear for too long, my thoughts were interrupted by a sound piercing through the quiet. A long howl that could only have belonged to a wolf came from somewhere deep in the forest. To my dismay, several more similar howls responded to the first.
I knew next to nothing about wolves, and even less about animals in general, but if years of watching action movies and shows taught me anything about wolves, is that they always hunt in packs. And when wolves howl, there’s a good chance they’re hunting. And if you can hear that howl, you better get out of there fast, because they’re hunting for you. I didn’t know if this was true or not, but since I was faced with the prospect of being hunted by a pack of vicious predators, I didn’t really care.
“Shit…” I muttered under my breath. At this point the terror that I had been experiencing earlier had come back in full force, but was forced down as survival instincts kicked in. I immediately took off in the opposite direction of the howling wolves, tearing through underbrush and shrubbery as I made my way through the forest, and hopefully away from danger.
I’ve been in this forest for about 4 hours now, fleeing a pack of wolves that I had stopped hearing a short while ago, and I have come to one conclusion.
There is something seriously wrong with this forest.
As I was walking through the trees, taking it easier now that I had put what I hoped to be enough distance between the wolves and I, I heard what was unmistakeably the roar of a lion the distance. Not a bear, not wolf, but a full blown lion.
Now I ask you, because I honestly have no idea myself and would really like some answers, WHAT THE HELL IS A LION DOING IN THE MIDDLE OF A FOREST?!
I didn’t wait around to find out. As soon as I heard that roar, my body was flooded with fear adrenaline and I took off running as fast as I could. I could feel the limbs of trees and the thorns of bushes tearing into my arms and legs as I ran, but I didn’t care. I only cared about moving to safety, although I was starting to doubt I would be able to actually find any.
By the time I stopped running, my arms and legs where sore to the bone. There was a painful stitch in my side that felt like someone was running a handsaw through it with every breath I took. My vision was blurry, and I briefly worried that I was going to pass out again, but it turned out only to be from the tears that I didn’t know I was crying.
Just more proof that whoever designed this place was on a little bit too much of the good stuff, I had heard a chicken clucking somewhere nearby as I ran for my life. Just another creature to add on the list of creatures that should never be in a forest, yet somehow was.
I slowly lowered myself down to rest for a while, keeping my sense open for the slightest sound that could even suggest danger. My breath was coming out in ragged breathing at this point, and it took a while before I could breathe normally again. Fortunately, I hadn’t heard anything out of the ordinary as I rested.
I looked up at the sky. The sun was starting its decline into evening. I gave a sort of half sigh, half whimper, and got up again to resume my walking. I had been going in a straight line this entire time, and I still hadn’t found any signs of civilization. Needless to say, my hopes were fading fast.
But still, I persisted, never allowing to give up on the hope that I would pull through and get out alive. I knew that if I allowed myself to be swallowed up by hopelessness, then any chances I had of getting out of this forest would be completely thrown out of the window.
As long as I had hope, I had a chance.
While this was a pretty sentiment, it did nothing to assuage the terror that pervaded every fibre of my being. My steps were small and unsteady as I walked, almost resulting in me tripping over an exposed root several times. The eeriness of the forest was starting to get to me more and more as I got increasingly nervous.
The fear was…incredible. I’ve never felt anything like it before. It was not only the fear of being injured, but the fear of dying. The differences between the two were not something that I had ever had the chance to appreciate before. Now however, I had all the time in the world.
I had to get away fro the fear, the remaining rational part of my mind told me. It threatened to overwhelm and consume me, rendering me into a helpless, sobbing mess. So I did the only thing I could think of. I sang.
When I was much younger, I would get scared very easily, much more easily then I do today. The dark, the monsters in the closet and under my bed, the shadows on the wall of trees outside my window, everything scared me. When I was scared, my mom would hold me in her arms, whisper reassurances, and softly sing to me. It didn’t matter what she sang, it was just her presence that reassured me.
I conjured upon the precious memories of my mother and her singing to me, trying not to dwell on the possibility of never seeing her again. I picked a random song from my memory, one that was simple to sing.
“A long, long time ago, I can still remember how that music used to make me smile.”
I sung very softly, almost in a whisper, so as not to attract any attention from whatever wildlife may be around me.
“And I knew that if I had my chance, I could make those people dance and maybe they’d be happy, for a while.”
My muscles screamed at me in protest as I trudged along. I hadn’t exerted myself so much in such a short amount of time for years, and my body was paying for it.
“But February made me shiver, with every paper I’d deliver.”
I noticed a rocky outcropping up ahead, and my body immediately changed direction for it. I needed more then just a few minutes rest, I needed sleep.
“Bad news on the doorstep, I couldn’t take, one more step.”
I collapsed to my knees as the combined weight of the days stress, both physical and mental, finally won. I was only a couple of meters away from the outcropping now, and I continued making my way towards it on my hands and knees.
“I can’t remember if I cried, when I read about his widowed bride.”
My quiet singing started to become choppy as I was wracked with more sobs. They were dry, heaving sobs however, as I didn’t have the energy to shed any tears. Too much had happened in such a short amount of time. I just wanted to sleep.
“Something touched me deep inside, the day, the music died.”
I finally reached the outcropping. It offered very little shelter and camouflage, but it was still something. I dropped down to my stomach and curled into a ball as the ground started to steal my warmth.
I continued to sing as I clenched my eyes shut and drifted off to sleep.
“So bye, bye miss American pie, drove my chevy to the levy and the levy was dry.
And them good old boys were drinking whisky and rye, singing this will be the day that I die.”
“This will be the day that I die…”
The eyes were back. Twin drops of burning red in pools of poisonous green, staring at me while I remained helpless. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t scream, I couldn’t do anything. Just float in the nothingness and be judged.
“Soon…you will return to me.”
I felt the world spinning around me as I started to leave this accursed dreamscape. My unconscious mind was rapidly being replaced by conscious one as the real world rushed in to greet me.
“Soon…”
I awoke with a start, inhaling dirt from the ground that I had been laying on. I coughed violently to clear my mouth and airways and was left with a disgusting taste coating my tongue. Swallowing dirt and sand did not help my condition and all.
With a groan, I sat up slightly and looked around me. From what I could tell, it was evening. I could see the clouds tinged pink and orange as the sun prepared to fall below the horizon.
I didn’t know how long I had been sleeping for, but I knew that it wasn’t long enough. My eyelids felt like there were weights attached to the ends of them, making me put in extra effort to keep them open. My calves were burning with a dull pain which intensified as I moved, and my arms and legs felt 3 times heavier then they normally did.
I crawled out of my little hidey hole and slowly stood up, massaging and stretching the tension out of my muscles as I did so. I drew myself up to my full height, feeling a few joint in my arms and legs crack as I did so.
The sound of a twig snapping made my heart skip a beat. Something was here, and it was watching me.
Not daring to breath or move, I slowly paned my vision across the forest. I saw evergreen trees that were at least 4 stories tall, I saw bushes thick with leaves and thorns, but I didn’t see anything moving. I allowed myself a brief moment of relief before I heard a rustling of leaves coming from the left of me.
I whipped my head around, and what I saw was enough to make my heart stop. Peering out of one of the bushes, watching my every move, were a pair of slanted golden glowing eyes. I froze up immediately, not daring to move an inch. The eyes merely continued to watch me, not blinking at all.
To my terror, more pairs of eyes started to pop up around the first pair. All of them a golden colour, glowing as they reflected the dim evening light. There were 5 in total.
We stood there, watching each other for what couldn’t have been shorter then an eternity. Eventually, one of the creatures shifted, sending the bush they were hiding in rustling once more. This was enough to snap me out of my reverie, and I immediately turned and bolted in the opposite direction.
I could hear the sound of the creatures giving chase to me as they leaped from their hiding spot and started barking and yapping. My eyes widened in realization as I ran for my life once more.
Wolves. A pack of them, probably the same ones that I had heard before. I knew that they had an incredible advantage over me, being smaller and faster, able to navigate the undergrowth much more effectively than I. Not to mention there were more of them.
So I did the only thing that I could think of. I ran faster, pushing my body to limits that I had never encountered before. I leaped over fallen logs, tore through clumps and foliage, and otherwise took advantage of the one thing that I could do that the wolves couldn’t. I could manoeuvre through and around obstacles without slowing, while the smaller creatures and had to slow down in order to avoid running face first into a stump.
It wasn’t enough however, as the wolves’ incredible speed kept them close on my heels the entire time. I knew that it was only a matter of time before I made a mistake. Before I tripped over an exposed root or twisted my ankle on a slanted surface. But still, I pressed on, focused only on running.
A little bit too focused perhaps. So deadest on running as fast as physically possible, I hadn’t noticed the extremely steep slope that I was quickly approaching until it was too late.
My running was interrupted as the ground disappeared from beneath my feet. I screamed as my momentum sent me tumbling forward down the slope, gravity taking complete control of my movements. I rolled and crashed through bushes and sticks, receiving a whole new set of bruises to call my own.
My painful fall was interrupted when I collided violently with a thick tree that was standing on the near 90 degree angle slope. I felt one of my ribs crack, and my side exploded in a blaze of pain. Tears started to swell, blurring my vision and making any efforts to control my fall even more impossible then they already were.
I had bounced off the tree trunk and continued tumbling until I finally reached the bottom, rolling a few more times before finally stopping. I was a wheezing, broken pile of nothing but pain as I lay on the grass, unable to move.
A few of the wolves had fallen with me, and the rest were quickly making their way down to where I was laying. I was only now able to get a good look at them, as I had been too busy running from them to notice something that was very peculiar about them.
They had no fur at all. Instead, their bodies were covered in a brown carapace. I noticed that leaves were growing at random points around their bodies, and realized with a start that the carapace was made of wood.
I was about to be killed by timberwolves made of actual of timber. Oh irony, you are a cruel, cruel bitch.
I closed my eyes as all the wolves gathered at the bottom of the hill. I didn’t want to see them approaching, see the fangs that I knew would soon be tearing into my flesh. I just wanted this nightmare to be over.
I prayed to whatever god or goddess that had forsaken me that they would let it be quick and painless. That the wolves would go for my neck first, snapping it in half and killing me instantly. Having the beasts go for my legs and arms first, slowly killing me as I writhed in agony and my own blood would have been nothing but an even bigger fuck you from the world to me.
My prayers were interrupted as they were caught off by the sound yelling, which was surprisingly not mine, as this voice was unmistakeably female. I could hear a crashing sound from behind me, and the wolves’ attention instantly switched from me to whoever it was that just made themselves known.
Something was thrown where the wolves were standing in front. I heard the sound of glass breaking, and then a loud hiss as a dark smoky mist filled the air. The air was suddenly filled with an extremely pungent and disgusting smell of woodrot. My nose wrinkled instinctively, but the wolves were hit much worse.
They started yapping and crying as their strongest sense was attacked by the disgusting smell. Before they could recover and escape the cloud, a shadow passed over me as my saviour leaped over my body and at the wolves.
My mind almost broke when I saw my saviour through the curtain of smoke. It wasn’t much bigger then the wolves, and although it was a quadruped, it was definitely a different creature entirely. The only resemblance I could think of was an extremely small horse with a rounder head and thicker legs. I could see the outline of a mane on its head, and my confusion only increased when I dimly realized that it was in the shape of a mohawk.
The creature went to action right away. As soon as it landed amongst the pack, It twisted on its front legs and kicked its hind legs out behind it, striking one of the wolves right in the face. The wolf looked as though it had been hit by a car as it was sent flying through the air and landed heavily on the ground. To my surprise, the wolf completely shattered into a pile of sticks, twigs, and logs.
The equine shaped creature nimbly dodged a snapping bite that another one of the wolves that had recovered had thrown at her. She quickly swooped one of her front legs underneath the wolf, kicking his legs out from underneath it as the equine crashed its hips into the wolf, sending it to the ground. From there, the equine crashed its front leg into the wolf’s face, shattering that one as well.
At this point, the other three had completely recovered and were glaring at the equine creature. I could faintly make out their glowing eyes through the smoke, but I could still only see their outlines.
Two of the wolves charged, and the creature reacted by charging back. Right as they were about to collide, the creature jumped, landed on the back of one of the wolves, and leaped off of it. It landed on all fours directly on to the third wolf, sending its wooden pones flying in all directions.
The two remaining beasts had wised up at this point, realizing that just attacking the equine creature was fruitless. One of the timberwolves yapped at the other, who then quickly ran in a circle around the equine creature so that it was standing between the two predators. The equine creature hadn’t moved at all.
With another bark, the two wolves charged simultaneously at the equine. I watched in horror as my four legged saviour was rapidly approached on either side by what would surely be a gruesome death. I mentally yelled at the figure to move, I pleaded for it to get out of the way, but it stood as still as a statue.
I wanted to close my eyes, but I couldn’t. I was to transfixed on the scene in front of me as the wolves simultaneously leaped at the equine, their open mouths eager to rend and tear into flesh.
It all finished in a blink, but not in the way I expected it to. As the two predators were inches away from the neck of the equine, it twisted away at the very last second and ducked its head, sending the two surprised animals barreling straight into each other. There was an explosion of wood as they burst apart, their body parts spreading in all directions.
All was silent now that the wolves lay scattered across the forest floor. I could see the equine figure standing completely still, and now that I wasn’t transfixed on its fight, I could hear it breathing, steadily and evenly.
The smoke began to dim. The outline of the equine slowly turned towards me and began to walk closer. With each passing second, I could glean more and more details about whatever it was that saved me. I saw big, slanted turquoise eyes on a large round face. The body was grey and covered in black stripes, and its impressive Mohawk of a mane was striped black and white. It had brass rings on one foreleg and on its neck, and large hooped earrings hanging from its large ears.
With all the excitement gone, I started to notice the condition my body was in. The pain from my cracked rib came back full force, and I winced and gave a sharp intake of breath, causing the creature to pause before continuing towards me.
I noticed my vision darkening, which could only mean one thing. My body was shutting down. I had gone through too much physical and mental trauma, and my body’s defense mechanisms were forcing me into unconsciousness to protect itself.
I struggled in vain to stay conscious, but it was a losing battle. The striped creature was upon me as I eventually blacked out.
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Unlike other Human fics that I've read, this one is very nicely presented.
I have a couple suggestions, if you wouldn't mind. (I have no intention of sounding rude.)
For smaller numbers, especially those that are less than one-hundred, I'd suggest always spelling them out. (Exactly like how you did this with 'one'.)
I only have one other tip:
For emphasis, it would be much more appealing to the eye if the emphasized word was italicized.
Overall, I'm very happy with how you write. Good plot, grammar, spelling, and punctuation.
Hooray, I get to favourite another story!
2059115
I'm glad to hear that you enjoyed it.
Being only 17 and still relatively new to the intricacies of writing, I'll take any advice that I can get. Your advice is much appreciated!
Why, hello, King Sombra!
You may want to take a second look at this...
Maybe: From what I could tell, it looked the head of a majestic horse. There was also a pegasus that curled along the length of the outside, that also had a long horn on its head which almost touched its flowing tail.
Just a suggestion.
In addition, this has a lot of potential; you should really get some editors and proofreaders to help you polish it up - there's tons of groups available for just that purpose.
damn. this is great! seriously, keep it up!
followin'
2059631
You're probably right, I should get some pre-readers and editors. I'm not really good at editing my work, something that is plain to see with how I missed such an egregious mistake. Thanks for pointing it out to me, and I'm glad that you like the story so far despite it
Well shit...
Lord of the rings anyone?
Wow. There was a sever drop off in quality after the transition to Equestria, sooo many errors after that... of all kinds too! Like the fact that the ring moved itself from his 'pointer finger' to his 'ring ringer'.
love the song choice. I was actually listening to that very song before i began reading this chapter.
This was the best introduction I've read so far...
wring->ring.
Let's get this out of the way first:
One does NOT "whimper slightly", that expression you seem to be so fond of using. Either you whimper or you don't. It can be "quietly", "faintly", "loudly", "hoarsely" or whatever indications of volume you can think of, but NEVER "slightly", "intensely" or whatever other adverb of intensity/magnitude.
More like rip me apart then and there, and steal my everything.
Jesus something must have gone wrong in your head if your flight or fight response is so fucked up you start singing instead of doing one or the other.