First the good news. I'm currently at about 26,700 words. That's back on pace for finishing things, and if I can keep surging like I have been it shouldn't be a problem. The bad news? I've gone and scheduled to have my wisdom teeth removed next Monday. Which means that I will no doubt lose any chance to work on Monday, and probably not feel all that much like working the next few days, either. That means I'm going to have to work my tail off to get this done. But hey, I'm already 24,000 more words into this than I thought I would be, so more power to me.
Speaking of which, I believe I did say that I'd show you a little something of my work. Be warned: it only gets wordier from here...
(Click 'Read More!' to read the excerpt)
Prologue: Shadow in the Fog
"Farley!"
In the woods outside of the city, drifting just past the safety of the gates and the within earshot of the walls, Larry's voice echoed softly in the small wooded patch he was in. He stopped along the path and turned to one side to shout again. "Farley! Where the heck are you?" Larry wiped the sweat from his brow with his hankerchief and adjusted the balance of the basket he was carrying. He had performed his early morning foraging outside of the walls like clockwork three times a week for as long as he could remember. It was a gently brisk morning, thick with the humidity of the morning fog. His proximity to the security gate had more or less made him complacent in the endeavor. That, and the security his dog Farley brought him.
"Farley!"
He'd provide much more security, Larry thought, if the dumb mutt would actually stay near him.
"Farley, I swear I'm going to leave you out here if you don't..." A shuffle from ahead drew Larry's attention. He looked forward into the shifting mists and strained to see what it was.
The dim light of the early morning conspired with the lowly clouds to prevent visibility beyond 20 feet, but still Larry strained to see anything. He heard another shuffle from the same area, then looked again to see nothing. But slowly, ever so slowly, something began to appear. At first, Larry thought that maybe he was imagining things. A glimmer of the early morning lights combined with the opaque of the mists to create some sort of optical illusion. But then, as more seconds went by, he could make out a form. Not enough of a form to see exactly what it was, but a shadow. A shadow in the fog.
"Farley?"
Larry thought that it could be his pet. The shadow, after all, was relatively low to the ground. And it stood in place as he watched it. Farley wasn't the kind of pet to be overly disobedient, but he might stand in place if he had found something.
"What is it, boy?" Larry asked jokingly, "You find some nice 'shrooms over there?" The shadowed form remained still but still somehow shifted, almost as if moving on its own. Larry found the entire situation odd. He wanted to think that it was his dog ahead of him in the path, but at the same time he had a feeling that something just wasn't right. Almost without realizing it, he began to reach down towards the utility knife tucked into his belt. Normally it was only there for cutting loose a pesky root or clipping a mushroom, but Larry was slowly beginning to fear that he might need if for something else.
A sharp growl from behind nearly caused Larry to leap out of his shoes. He turned his head without turning his body, not willing to give up his position to whatevere was in front of him, but desperately needing to see what was behind him. There, another shadowy form had appeared almost an equal distance away as the one ahead. But unlike the one in front of Larry, this one slowly began to move closer. Larry was just moments away from truning in earnest to defend himself when his sense of recognition kicked in.
"Farley!" Larry cried out as his mutt of a dog stalked its way up behind him. The dog had an uncharacteristic snarl on his face. Larry had seen Farley worked up over things before but never like this. The animal's growl was guttural, the kind of noise that immediately reminded one, be they man or beast, that the animal still remembered its primal roots.
Slowly Farley treaded up to and just past his master, his gaze locked on the uncertain shadow in front of them. The shadow endured with no actual movement, its image still seeming to flicker in the morning haze.
"Come on, Farley..." Larry spoke softly as he still fingered the hilt of the blade in his belt. "Let's get out of here before..."
But it was too late. The shadow in the foggy path lunged forward with a sudden bolt. Almost as quickly, Farley leapt forward in defense of his master. Before Larry could try to stop him, Farley was on top of the mystery creature. Larry struggled to make out what was going on, but all he could see was that there was a struggle. Farley's vicious snarling growls could be heard, but they were met by an equally vicious set of growls from his opponent.
Larry chanced to move a few steps closer. The shapes in front of him began to take more recognizable forms. There was of course, Farley, bounding and grappling tooth and claw with another creature. As best as Larry could make out, it appeared to be a wolf or something similar. Larry thought about running for help, but he was much too far from the main gates to reach them in time. Not to mention the fact that there was no guarantee that he could even lead anyone back to this one spot, and on top of that it was unlikely that anyone would even help him save his dog from a wild animal.
Worst still was the other thought that Larry had, mainly that he should just run away and leave Farley to his own fate. He could never face his wife Gertie once he got home if he left Farley like that. The dog meant too much to him and to her to not at least try to help. Larry drew his knife and attempted to steel himself enough to approach the fighting animals.
The situation was close to being taken out of his hands. Before Larry could think to approach closer, the two beasts carrie dtheir fight further into the mists away from him. Larry stood frozen for a few more moments before finally chancing a few steps forward. The growling and snapping continued on, the sound drifting further away until finally it died down with a single sharp yelp.
Larry stood frozen in concern and fear. He waiting silently for what seemed like an eternity, afraid to move for fear of discovering what may or may not have become of his canine companion. Slowly he found his voice again, and called, his voice barely a whisper, "... Farley?"
The ground crackled ahead of him. Again a scant twenty feet ahead of Larry, a shadowy form appeared. Larry gripped his knife tighter, his hand trembling as an indication of just how woefully equipped he was to do any sort of real fighting.
The shadowy form began a slow approach. Larry's arm poked forward as if he expected to cause damage to something by having it run into his knife by accident. But alas, that would not be the case.
From amidst the fog, the familiar form of Larry's dog Farley came into focus. The dog, its spirit as worn as its body, limped ahead weakly. Its body had several scratches and bite marks, most notably a large gash along its left side.
"Oh, Farley!" Larry practically dropped his knife as he ran to be at his friend's side. "What were you thinkin', fella? You didn't have to do that. Are you, okay, boy? What did that thing do to you?"
Farley whimpered quietly, struggling to move closer to his master but not able to make it due to his wounds. His body collapsed into a furry matted pile on the cold wet earth.
Larry fell to his knees, his eyes starting to mist from the emotion. His body began to tremble as he tried to tend to his fallen pet. His knife fell from his hands as he sought to stop the animal's bleeding. His hands moved forward, gently lifting the dog into his arms and bringing it close to his body.
"Don't you worry, boy..." Larry whispered. "I'm not going to let you... You're gonna be okay, boy. You're gonna be just fine." The animal whimpered in his arms. Larry felt the trembling of its furry body and the warmth of the blood flowing from its open wounds. And then, much to Larry's horror, he felt its teeth.
The attack was as viciousas it was sudden. The animal that he'd raised since it was a puppy had inexplicably rebelled. He tried to calm it with soothing words dripped in panic, but to no avail. The animal was beyond reconcile. Larry felt the claws of the beast gripping into his chest , its teeth driving themselves into his neck again. His flailing arms reached for the knife that he had just discarded, but it was too late. With a greusome snarl and brutal tearing at the man's neck, forceful attack was over. The man was mortally wounded.
Larry's body collapsed into a limp pile on the cold soil. His mind was adrift, spiralling through its final confused thoughts as the warm fluid of his life drained from his form. He thought of Gertie, the wife he would never see again and prayed for her happiness. He idly thought of the basket of roots and mushrooms that wouldn't go on sale today and prayed for the peddlers who would come up short. He found that thought in particular oddly comical and out of place given the one that had come prior to it. He prayed for the sick, the young, and even his enemies. And then finally, he prayed for his longtime companion Farley, and silently forgave him for losing control as he did. He was after all, just a foolish animal, and even if anyone found him he would surely be put down for having attcked his master as he did.
He could feel his last gasps coming. His body registered no pain, and he found himself at peace among nature. The gentle morning breeze gave him comfort. The cooling mist of the morning drifted away as the new day, his last day, began to start in earnest. Larry, through the haze of his mind, saw another shadow in the fog above him. A familiar shape that was followed by the familiar feeling of a furred paw upon his bloody chest. Gone was the bestial ferocity that had occurred just a few moments ago. All that seemed to remain was the last traces of loyalty between owner and master. The last pages of a tragedy of small scale, but a tradgedy noentheles.
Larry's mind swirled peacefully downward. The thought of reaching out and giving his pal a final pet. The random guess of which pie his wife would fix for Sunday dinner. His first kiss. His last confession. That little blinky gadget he could never get to work properly. Awake.
The dying man's senses were stunned by the sudden interjection. While he knew full well that his mind was practically dreaming itself to death, his heart pulsed one final sharp tone as he realized something far more disturbing. The last thoughts... the final thoughts of his life... were not his own. The paw on his chest began to press onto his heart with an awful, immeasurable weight as his thoughts once again began to speak on their own.
Finally... finally awake...
But for Larry, the burden of this terror would be fleeting. His body wounded, pressed and failing, Larry finally surrendered to what could have been a far more merciful death. In the woods outside of the city, drifting just past the safety of the gates and the within earshot of the walls, a shadow in the fog howled omninously, its scream drifting into the early morning light and changing... changing into something far more ominous.
(Ooo-oooooh! But the rest of it isn't nearly as creepy as all that. Note this is just a draft. It's all just a draft. But this part felt like it was put together well enough to show the curious public. With any luck, I'll feel up to showing more of it later.)
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