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Rated: E · Short Story · Dark · #1908504
Samuel Decon's stroy.
He kneels low, broad back bent as he digs for his winter greens. A pirceing cry cuts through the freezing air. It sounds like a small babe, perhaps a wounded animal, so he thinks nothing of it. He continues his work as the cold bites through his large boots, nipping at his toes. The cry comes again, and this time it's louder on a strong gust of wind. He could have sworn that it sounded like a weak call of help. He straightens as he looks around for the source of noise. "Hello?" He calls as his warm blue eyes do a wide sweep of the land, looking for anything out of place.           "Is someone out there?" He walks forward and stops, tilting his head to better capture the noise. "He-help..." The wind flings the word into his face, stealing his breath straight from his lungs. He looks up at the sinister sky as the wind picks up to a howling gail. "A storms's brewin' " He murmurs. "Best be gettin' out and findin' who's ever callin' for help..." He quickly walks by a sign. Carved into the wood is "Samuel Decon". Thats his name.






He yanks open the door and rushes into the cold cabin. He pulls off his gloves and reaches out, fingers brushing over an old pistol mounted on the wall. Samuel's fingers seem to hover it before flying to the rifle above it. He rips it from the wall and checks it for shots. He has 3 left... There is no time to gather more as he runs out of his cabin. The weak voice calls out again as he sprints through the hard packed snow.
"I'm coming!" He shouts as he searches wildly for the voice.



He sobs, hitting out against the beast. Why him? Why this small teenager? Only 15.. The bear raises onto it's hind legs. He cries out again as huge claws lash out violently and slash across his torso. Pink flesh cuts easily, like a hot knife through a slab of butter. Why him?


Samuel bursts into the clearing. His brown eyes widening at the sight before him. A boy and bear, locked in the jaws of death. A spear protruds from the great beast's side, the boy with a huge slash across his stomach. He watches as more blood spills and the boy drops to the ground, screaming in terror and pain as the beast flings itself onto his body. He raises his gun and fires. Once. Twice. Three times. No more shots left and the beast sways on its feet before falling dead next to the unmoving body of the boy. He doesn't think, only acts as he rushes to the child's side. "Hello?!?" He cries, shaking the thin shoulders. The boy's head rolls back, eyes wide open and staring at something only his eys could see. Maybe he can see the sweet wings of death coming to enfold him in their calming cool. Thats when the tears started appering in Samuel's eyes, touching the boy's cheek, not dareing to look down apon his tatered and mutilated flesh. "Just sleep little one.. Sleep.." He whispered as blood bubbled on his lips, spilling down his slender neck. Slolwy his eyes became dull until they held no spark of life. Samuel closed his eyes. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you.." He whispers with pain wracking his voice. "So sorry..."


Thats when he awakes in his bed, safe from the horror of the child's death. "Just a dream.. Only a dream Samuel.." He says to himself, covering his face. "Just a dream..."









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