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Rated: E · Other · Other · #1976438
Nothing Drips Like An August Night
The house was old, it looked abandoned, and the blackness that fell that night looked like evil. It is always very dark in this neck of the woods but tonight was different, and the rain was coming down like little miniature waterfalls falling from the sky. The forest is dense on both sides of the roadway. You couldn’t see through the trees with the brightest of suns, even if you tried. They were lucky to have the rain that night. The last few days or so were so hot. A goddamn heat wave. The days left the nights so humid and sticky you could almost cut the air with a knife. That’s why they were lucky to have the rain. It keeps the bugs and creepy crawly’s at bay, they will eat you alive if you aren’t prepared for them. Literally eat you alive. They say, “nothing drips like an August night”. I say they’re right.

I first thought they went there looking for solace, looking for peace of mind. I didn’t know what they were running from if anything at all but I do know what led them here was total and utter misfortune. Nothing they left could have been so terrible or so dreadful as what they were about to encounter and I knew that.

I know they could see the house from down the road and with it raining the way it was I know they needed someplace to wait it out. This was the only shelter for miles unless you count the forest as shelter and if you were from around these parts you didn’t do that. Maybe they were forewarned or cautioned or just somehow knew, like a sixth sense because you just don’t go through the trees at night. And they knew that, somehow they new that and they didn’t dare take a wrong turn into the woods. When they came upon the house they had to have known or maybe they guessed that there was nobody home because they walked right in. They walked right in that miserable house without a knock or a stir and went downstairs to the basement. That’s when I knew something was different about these ones. Civilized people in most cases don’t do that, especially if you’re a stranger and especially if you’re from around here. A man can get himself in a lot of trouble doing that. And if your anything like I am you can give a lot of trouble to someone doing that and I knew the owner of that house. To go directly to the cellar got to me. Why didn’t they stay on the main floor and why didn’t they check to see if someone lived there. You see the basements on these old houses are like little medieval dungeons. They have jagged stone walls and uneven dirt floors. There are spiders in every corner and rats in every crevasse. When it rains like it was the walls drip with rainwater and every insect and millipede from miles around finds its way there, because they’re also trying to stay dry. And when they finally find a place they usually don’t leave, hell, who would leave a warm dry shelter for cold wet darkness. Being out in that would drive anyone or anything to a dry spot to rest or eat or just crawl and live. Funny thing though, this dungeon had a lower level and they knew about that to. How would they know about that? The man who owns that house dug it out years ago. It’s doorway hidden nicely in the darkest corner, if you didn’t know it was there. You wouldn’t find it and that’s just the way he wanted it.

They descended down to the lower level on wooden stairs that creaked with every step. Other than that there was complete and total silence. From down there you couldn’t hear the sound of the rain smacking against the window’s, you couldn’t hear the winds sorry mourning cries through the tree’s outside. You couldn’t even here the thunders ferocious call to the night sky. Not one of them spoke not one of them made a sound. When they reached the bottom of the stairs they lit their lantern bright. That is when they saw their nightmare and there torment.

This lower level was only one room. I can describe it to you, as I had been their once before. The walls were smooth stone crafted with care, not one cleft edge protruded out. There were no sprinkles of rain dribbling from the walls. The floor was an effortless silky marble that reflected the light to perfection. Other then a few odd looking instruments used for ancient exploitation and for the application of manipulation the room was empty. Except for one thing. In the far corner chained to the stone wall was a figure. This figure had a dark aura around it. If you hadn’t ever prayed to a god or even heard of the abyss you knew this aura was evil.

There was no hesitating after that. These two knew exactly what they were doing and they knew how to do it well. What it went through I will not repeat out of sheer respect. Respect for its strength and the horror it must have known. But I will tell you they gave him back to the devil that night for this was a man I had known for all my time. They burned him with water. Deformed him with fire. They threw at him a cross in a god’s name that made him cowl and cry for his life. His screams could be heard through the ages, I bet the gods could have heard his squeal. Then with what strength and ability he had left the man reared his ugly head and gave a smile that could send a woman into amnesia. Because that is what he did and that is why he was there. Then it was over, the man melted into a pile of ashes on the floor. He no longer felt the agony of his life or the pain of his debts.

This is where I come in. You see, I am a wolf when the moon is full and I have lived a very long time. I can not explain my age but I do know I am centuries old. I have no fear of man or nature and I eat well. I saw what happened in that lower sanctuary in my minds eye. I knew the man who died well. He was an acquaintance of mine. We had found each other a long time ago before there were hunts and before there were hero’s. We knew we were different and I felt, like he did, that we had to stick together to survive this life. We are legends here. There are stories told about us to children and warnings told about us to the aged.

The rain had finally bellowed it’s last thunderous roar then suddenly subsided. Like magic, I new then he was dead. These two mortals walked out of that house, cold and tired. Maybe it was the fight or maybe it was his last breath but whatever it was it took everything they had left to stay alert and moving. But, I knew then. They wouldn’t last long. I hated them for what they had just done and I was hungry. From the trees I could smell their stinking breath and their reason for being. I could see in their eyes a new life. I knew then why they did what they had done and to do that made me hate them more. You just don’t turn your back on what you are. They did. I knew my time would come so I had to act fast. My time is now. I sprung out of the trees so we all could clearly notice and see each other. The two of them were not counting on this so soon I guess or maybe they weren’t counting on this at all. With all the rain this night you couldn’t see the moon. The moon was full. As we all stood there staring at each other I growled my most ferocious growl and showed them my great teeth. When I do this it means I mean business. Now, I knew what they were thinking. Which way they should run and should they stick together. To me it didn’t really matter what they did because at night and at this time of the moon this was my stompin’ grounds. I know every inch of this place and I could find them blinded on scent alone. They started to run back down the road then into the trees. If you remember, I told you earlier, you do not go into the trees at night. I am the reason you do not go into the trees at night. I stopped in the middle of the road. I looked at my moon and made a howl to the night. I then quickly started my chase. I found the first one hiding in some wet brush just inside the woods. When he saw me he froze. I launched myself at him with all the force and might I had at that moment. I could hear and feel his bones breaking under me. I then calmly ate his face. I remember listening to his short breath’s as I took my first few bites. I thought to myself that this is nothing to what you had done to the man in the basement less then an hour before and this is nothing to what I could be doing to you. So, I ate my meal regretting nothing and pleasantly enjoying every bite. As always happens when I eat, I forget about everything else. When I was done with my first victim of that night I remembered I still had another. With the adrenaline of the first kill still pumping though my veins I felt the direction of the wind and headed west toward the closest town. This was the town of my birth. I knew it well. But I hadn’t been in years.

I followed her sent through the trees and bushes, across the creak that divides the borders of one county to the next. I still felt a little high from my first prey so my run was not as fast. And I knew as with all the moons cycles. This moon tonight was the first of this cycle. I still had time to find her.

Thinking back now, I shouldn’t have taken so long with the first one. I was enjoying myself too much though and I got carried away. That’s how it is with me. My food, in most cases, is still living when I eat it. I like to take my time. Savor the taste of the last living breaths of my prey. I lost her scent. But I knew I was going in the right direction. I knew she would be heading for town.

The town is old. Older then I am. As I said I’m centuries old. Not must has changed here; the streets are made of stone the street lamps are lit every night by a man carrying matches and a long stick. There are many dark ally ways and doorways. I remember as a boy, walking through the streets. The citizens of this town have always been wary of strangers. And they never go out at night. There she is I thought to myself. I saw the girl standing in a doorway. I could see her silhouette against a backdrop of stone. I new then I have her. I slowly took my first few steps toward her. I could smell her now, just as I did at the house. I then knew I wasn’t mistaken and I could sense she was frightened. I ran toward her with jaws open. She did not move. I could feel something strange in the air. She leapt in the air with a twist and landed behind me. I turned around to look and she took hold of my ears. She grabbed at me with a might and wisdom. She knew what she was doing. I bite at her and thrawthed at the mouth for her blood. I could then see in her eyes that the new life I had sensed earlier was gone and her old ways were back again. She bit into me and ripped a piece of my flesh from my throat. I howled for to the night for strength. I ripped open her arm with a sudden wrench of persistence. She let go of me, that’s when I pounced on her with everything I had. I knew if I didn’t act fast she would regain her momentum and damage me good. I ripped into her again letting out blood. I could feel it in gums; I could taste it on my tongue. I had her now. I didn’t stop for what it seemed like an eternity. I just kept clawing at her and penetrating her with my teeth until there was nothing left. I then carried her off into the night, back into the woods. The town was left still and quiet. There was no eye’s peering out of the windows and there were no sounds of footsteps in the night. I took her back to my territory and finished the job. Soon it would be day light; I had to be ready.

I awoke in the morning. The birds were singing they’re wake up call. I had a gash in my neck I had to get looked at. I found my cane and got up out of the old barn I call home a few nights a year. I walked over to the well and gave myself a drink. I washed up and found myself standing there thinking about my old acquaintance in the house over the hill. I thought to myself for awhile and knew we would meet again. But not in light. As, I said, the creepy crawly’s come out at night. And so does he.

© Copyright 2014 Mike Nail (michaelcole at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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