Untitled Short Story Excerpt One
Jan. 5th, 2012 02:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
truebluehorrorI'm a writer. Or at least I'd like to be. To say I've kind of been slow, or dragging in the department of actual writing for the last few years due to both actual reasons and excuses I've found for myself would be pretty generous. That being said, recently I've managed to get back in the swing of things, you might say, and have begun work on a short story in the last week or so.
I haven't finished it yet, but I'd like to share the beginning excerpt of it here. Keep in mind that this isn't going to be great: it's a first draft, and thus needs to be cleaned up. Ideas that have started in it are somewhat malleable and starting to change/contradict as I try to piece together the actual world, so don't be surprised if things don't flow too well/don't make sense entirely yet. Keep in mind, also, that this is just an excerpt. That being said, I'm open to any criticism, preferably constructive, people might have to provide for what they see.
Anyway, here we go.
The dust storm was still going strong as John's truck approached Gordon's bar. Gordon Schmecker wast eh richest man in Reaching Pines, and for good reason: no one in Reaching Pines wanted to be there. Had to be there, for some certainly. Had nowhere else to go, true for everyone. It was either go to another town like Reaching Pines or go to one of the Clinics, and no one wanted to end up in one of the Clinics.
"You see him anywhere?" John asked, and I stared as hard as I could into the path that the truck's headlights cut through the dark and dust like a knife. I prayed I'd see something, otherwise we'd have to get out and talk with Gordon, and we didn't want to deal with that shit. not after the last talk we had with him.
"There," I said, pointing out into the light. "You see it?"
John squinted, and after a short obscenity and kicking the truck back into gear, I knew he saw it too. It couldn't have been too old, because the wind and dust hadn't covered it up yet. In the dirt road was a long, slithering trail, like a rattler would make if the rattler was the size of a man.
A bit further down, Rob's hat lay in the trail, blowing around apathetically with the wind.
It was about half a mile down that we found Rob, belly slithering in the dirt, the dust stained work clothes complimenting his leathery skin. It always amazed me just how much he could look like a sidewinder. Rob was a lot of things. Hearing he was part snake wouldn't surprise me much at all.
John parked the truck, turning the headlights on to bright. Rob stopped his slithering and pulled himself up a little to turn and look. He didn't even need his arms to pull himself up. He just pulled himself up, upper body, stomach twisting. He's definitely got some snake in him. It was part of the Beast.
I was scared of him, when the Beast was in him.
John got out of the truck, slamming his door behind him, and I couldn't follow him. Not yet. Rob didn't make a move, just stared as John approached. You couldn't see it, couldn't make sense of it in regular light, but in the lights of John's truck you could tell they were brothers.
"Rob." John said as he kneeled down in front of Rob. He didn't touch him or reach to help him up, not yet. We both knew better than to try touching him when the Beast was strong. Rob's head craned towards his brother, and I felt my blood grow cold. Even from the truck I could see Rob's eyes, now a weird violet instead of their usual blue, sparkle among the headlights and dust, like twin gem stones. He opened his mouth, and while I couldn't hear it, I could imagine the hiss that came out.
"Rob." John repeated, stronger this time. He said it a third time, and a fourth, like a mantra. It worked; it always workend, when it was John saying it. The snake started to leave, and Rob started to come out.
"Calling me." Rob's voice was a rasp, and you could still hear some of the snake in it. "Calling for me."
"I know Rob." John reached an arm under one of Rob's, and for a moment I didn't know if Rob was going to jerk away, or worse, lunge. The Beast could be put to sleep, even hibernate, but it was never really gone. It was easier to put to sleep, easier than when he had been a boy, but you never shake him too much. That's the rule for any animal. You never shake it too much.
It was when Rob let John pull him up that I realized how tightly I had been grabbing the handle to the passenger side door. I relaxed. Just barely, but I relaxed.
"Where's my hat?" Rob asked as he stumbled, relearning how to use his legs. One arm was slung over John's shoulder while the other swung free and easy from his side.
"It's in the truck, Rob."
"Nice hat." Rob stopped for a moment, and wheezed dryly at the ground. For a moment I didn't know if he was going to vomit or start hissing again. I hoped for vomiting. It turned out to be neither. "Like that hat."
"I know you do." John patted him on the back, and by this point they were near the truck. I opened the passenger side door and took a small bag of jerky, made by Mama Wold, out of the glove box. Rob would be hungry, if he hadn't eaten earlier.
Rob got to the door and I started scooting over to the middle seat. I stared, and it was obvious Rob was having trouble. He had learned what his legs were supposed to do, but just couldn't make them obey. I reached a hand out for Rob to take, and half expected a talon to grasp it. Sometimes, it was hard to tell the difference with Rob's hands and how beaten leathery they were. But I knew from the grip when Rob took it that it was him, and not the coyote or the bear or worst of all the wolf, and helped pull him in all the way.
Rob patted me on the shoulder, and the smell of gin was heavy as it wafted off of him. "Danny." He grinned, pure white teeth bright in the darkness. "Danny. Thanks. Thank you." He paused. "Hungry."
I heard John's door open and shut, his belt buckle as I handed the bag of jerky to Rob. Rob went over a piece slowly, sucking on it as he chewed. The sucking and biting sounds were the only noise in the cabin of that truck as John set it in gear and began to drive.
We drove aimlessly for a stretch of fifteen minutes until the noises of Rob feeding stopped and were replaced with a light snore. I knew what John was aiming to do. When we finally pulled up in front of Gordon's bar again, i was already undoing my buckle.
John was faster, and was out the door before my hands had even gotten at the buckle. "Stay in the truck with him, Danny." John's voice was mechanical, too even, and his hand slid to draw the pistol he kept in the front of his jeans as he walked towards the door of the bar.
It was John's Beast that had come out this time. But this was a Beast I could deal with, and I scrambled out the door after him, my boots pounding the dirt as I followed him and put an arm on his shoulder. We were just outside the bar door, and I could hear the people talking inside over Mark Finley's blues band. It was a busy night for Gordon Schmecker.
"Wait." I said, my voice almost as even as Johns. "What were you even going to do? What if Clyde's there?"
"Fuck Clyde." The words slipped through John's gritted teeth like water through a sieve. The Beast's calm, killer instinct was starting to break, and the anger was showing.
"If you go in there, you know he's going to be only ten feet from the door." I tilted my head a pit, poking John lightly in the chest. I lied earlier. For some beasts, the only way to get the point across was to rattle the cage some. "He's going to shoot you down the moment you walk in there. There's not going to be any talk, not this time. Put the gun away."
John licked his lips, dry from the dust and the wind and the rage, and waved the gun a bit at the door. "I told him." he said, the rage rolling back and forth in his voice. "I told that son of a bitch he wasn't supposed to let Rob drink. He knows what it does. He's supposed to tell us if Rob comes around."
"He did tell us, John." It wasn't a lie, not fully. Will Tomley, one of Gordon's cronies, had come to tell us Rob had been there. It was well after Rob had gotten plastered and the snake had taken over, Will giggling like a little girl about how Rob had slithered on the floor of the bar for five minutes before Schmecker had chased him out with a broom. Will was a giggler. He didn't find anything to giggle about with John's fist.
"That's bull and you know it." John said, but he headed back to the truck all the same. John's rage was wild, but it was also lazy, and if it didn't act immediately, it tired and went back to sleep.
We took the truck drive back to the Wold's house in silence. I looked over at the old man who sat to my right and wondered if he looked as bad inside as he did outside. The Beast ruined Rob inside as much as it did out, I was convinced of that. The alcohol didn't help either, and just paved the way to an early grave.
Of the three of us, I was the youngest at seventeen. John was twenty-seven.
Rob was twenty-two going on sixty five.
This is the first "section" I guess, of the story, and has more or less been copied without correction from the rough draft I have in front of me. It shows, as there are a lot of parts, even after just having typed them, that are rough and awkward and that I've ended up retconning slight parts of as the story has gone on. But that's part of the point of a rough draft, as well.
I'll put up another excerpt later, either tonight or tomorrow.
I haven't finished it yet, but I'd like to share the beginning excerpt of it here. Keep in mind that this isn't going to be great: it's a first draft, and thus needs to be cleaned up. Ideas that have started in it are somewhat malleable and starting to change/contradict as I try to piece together the actual world, so don't be surprised if things don't flow too well/don't make sense entirely yet. Keep in mind, also, that this is just an excerpt. That being said, I'm open to any criticism, preferably constructive, people might have to provide for what they see.
Anyway, here we go.
The dust storm was still going strong as John's truck approached Gordon's bar. Gordon Schmecker wast eh richest man in Reaching Pines, and for good reason: no one in Reaching Pines wanted to be there. Had to be there, for some certainly. Had nowhere else to go, true for everyone. It was either go to another town like Reaching Pines or go to one of the Clinics, and no one wanted to end up in one of the Clinics.
"You see him anywhere?" John asked, and I stared as hard as I could into the path that the truck's headlights cut through the dark and dust like a knife. I prayed I'd see something, otherwise we'd have to get out and talk with Gordon, and we didn't want to deal with that shit. not after the last talk we had with him.
"There," I said, pointing out into the light. "You see it?"
John squinted, and after a short obscenity and kicking the truck back into gear, I knew he saw it too. It couldn't have been too old, because the wind and dust hadn't covered it up yet. In the dirt road was a long, slithering trail, like a rattler would make if the rattler was the size of a man.
A bit further down, Rob's hat lay in the trail, blowing around apathetically with the wind.
It was about half a mile down that we found Rob, belly slithering in the dirt, the dust stained work clothes complimenting his leathery skin. It always amazed me just how much he could look like a sidewinder. Rob was a lot of things. Hearing he was part snake wouldn't surprise me much at all.
John parked the truck, turning the headlights on to bright. Rob stopped his slithering and pulled himself up a little to turn and look. He didn't even need his arms to pull himself up. He just pulled himself up, upper body, stomach twisting. He's definitely got some snake in him. It was part of the Beast.
I was scared of him, when the Beast was in him.
John got out of the truck, slamming his door behind him, and I couldn't follow him. Not yet. Rob didn't make a move, just stared as John approached. You couldn't see it, couldn't make sense of it in regular light, but in the lights of John's truck you could tell they were brothers.
"Rob." John said as he kneeled down in front of Rob. He didn't touch him or reach to help him up, not yet. We both knew better than to try touching him when the Beast was strong. Rob's head craned towards his brother, and I felt my blood grow cold. Even from the truck I could see Rob's eyes, now a weird violet instead of their usual blue, sparkle among the headlights and dust, like twin gem stones. He opened his mouth, and while I couldn't hear it, I could imagine the hiss that came out.
"Rob." John repeated, stronger this time. He said it a third time, and a fourth, like a mantra. It worked; it always workend, when it was John saying it. The snake started to leave, and Rob started to come out.
"Calling me." Rob's voice was a rasp, and you could still hear some of the snake in it. "Calling for me."
"I know Rob." John reached an arm under one of Rob's, and for a moment I didn't know if Rob was going to jerk away, or worse, lunge. The Beast could be put to sleep, even hibernate, but it was never really gone. It was easier to put to sleep, easier than when he had been a boy, but you never shake him too much. That's the rule for any animal. You never shake it too much.
It was when Rob let John pull him up that I realized how tightly I had been grabbing the handle to the passenger side door. I relaxed. Just barely, but I relaxed.
"Where's my hat?" Rob asked as he stumbled, relearning how to use his legs. One arm was slung over John's shoulder while the other swung free and easy from his side.
"It's in the truck, Rob."
"Nice hat." Rob stopped for a moment, and wheezed dryly at the ground. For a moment I didn't know if he was going to vomit or start hissing again. I hoped for vomiting. It turned out to be neither. "Like that hat."
"I know you do." John patted him on the back, and by this point they were near the truck. I opened the passenger side door and took a small bag of jerky, made by Mama Wold, out of the glove box. Rob would be hungry, if he hadn't eaten earlier.
Rob got to the door and I started scooting over to the middle seat. I stared, and it was obvious Rob was having trouble. He had learned what his legs were supposed to do, but just couldn't make them obey. I reached a hand out for Rob to take, and half expected a talon to grasp it. Sometimes, it was hard to tell the difference with Rob's hands and how beaten leathery they were. But I knew from the grip when Rob took it that it was him, and not the coyote or the bear or worst of all the wolf, and helped pull him in all the way.
Rob patted me on the shoulder, and the smell of gin was heavy as it wafted off of him. "Danny." He grinned, pure white teeth bright in the darkness. "Danny. Thanks. Thank you." He paused. "Hungry."
I heard John's door open and shut, his belt buckle as I handed the bag of jerky to Rob. Rob went over a piece slowly, sucking on it as he chewed. The sucking and biting sounds were the only noise in the cabin of that truck as John set it in gear and began to drive.
We drove aimlessly for a stretch of fifteen minutes until the noises of Rob feeding stopped and were replaced with a light snore. I knew what John was aiming to do. When we finally pulled up in front of Gordon's bar again, i was already undoing my buckle.
John was faster, and was out the door before my hands had even gotten at the buckle. "Stay in the truck with him, Danny." John's voice was mechanical, too even, and his hand slid to draw the pistol he kept in the front of his jeans as he walked towards the door of the bar.
It was John's Beast that had come out this time. But this was a Beast I could deal with, and I scrambled out the door after him, my boots pounding the dirt as I followed him and put an arm on his shoulder. We were just outside the bar door, and I could hear the people talking inside over Mark Finley's blues band. It was a busy night for Gordon Schmecker.
"Wait." I said, my voice almost as even as Johns. "What were you even going to do? What if Clyde's there?"
"Fuck Clyde." The words slipped through John's gritted teeth like water through a sieve. The Beast's calm, killer instinct was starting to break, and the anger was showing.
"If you go in there, you know he's going to be only ten feet from the door." I tilted my head a pit, poking John lightly in the chest. I lied earlier. For some beasts, the only way to get the point across was to rattle the cage some. "He's going to shoot you down the moment you walk in there. There's not going to be any talk, not this time. Put the gun away."
John licked his lips, dry from the dust and the wind and the rage, and waved the gun a bit at the door. "I told him." he said, the rage rolling back and forth in his voice. "I told that son of a bitch he wasn't supposed to let Rob drink. He knows what it does. He's supposed to tell us if Rob comes around."
"He did tell us, John." It wasn't a lie, not fully. Will Tomley, one of Gordon's cronies, had come to tell us Rob had been there. It was well after Rob had gotten plastered and the snake had taken over, Will giggling like a little girl about how Rob had slithered on the floor of the bar for five minutes before Schmecker had chased him out with a broom. Will was a giggler. He didn't find anything to giggle about with John's fist.
"That's bull and you know it." John said, but he headed back to the truck all the same. John's rage was wild, but it was also lazy, and if it didn't act immediately, it tired and went back to sleep.
We took the truck drive back to the Wold's house in silence. I looked over at the old man who sat to my right and wondered if he looked as bad inside as he did outside. The Beast ruined Rob inside as much as it did out, I was convinced of that. The alcohol didn't help either, and just paved the way to an early grave.
Of the three of us, I was the youngest at seventeen. John was twenty-seven.
Rob was twenty-two going on sixty five.
This is the first "section" I guess, of the story, and has more or less been copied without correction from the rough draft I have in front of me. It shows, as there are a lot of parts, even after just having typed them, that are rough and awkward and that I've ended up retconning slight parts of as the story has gone on. But that's part of the point of a rough draft, as well.
I'll put up another excerpt later, either tonight or tomorrow.
