Thursday, 26 September 2013

The Hunted Rough Draft - Excerpts From "The Cirrus Project"

He was running; running for his life, running as if the Devil was after him - the Devil wasn't of course; the creatures were far far worse than that. As he hurtled through the forest the moon was huge and so bright - so bright infact that he could have picked out individual leaves on a branch such was the power of Earth's closet planet.

His lungs were burning as he gulped down air in a vain attempt to keep running, running like a madman. Bushes and brambles pulled at his shoes and clothes as he ran past as if they were trying to ensnare him. With each passing moment he was becoming more exhausted but still he pushed his body to keep going. Inhuman noises and sounds were behind him, how far away he couldn't tell. The creatures were closing in on their prey, they could smell his fear and it drew them like a magnet to their quarry.

Suddenly his body came to a grinding halt - all his motion absorbed by a force unseen. He felt an intense cold pain rip through his chest and a nausating sound like a cabbage being viciously skewered on a razor sharp spike. He panicked and felt cold and numb. His head started to swim with the pain. He looked down to see a gleaming silver blade protruding from his chest. As he stared at it, it began to be covered in the crimson coloured liquid that was his blood. He looked up. His assailant was  stood right in front of him, its rancid stench almost acrid in its density. The creatures face was now almost pressed against his.

Their eyes connected, the victim's showing fear and pain whilst the killers nothing but perverse delight. He tried to scream at the sight that befell his eyes, the creature was a grotesque abomination of a man but then it suddenly lunged forward and with both its hands it grabbed his head. He started to cry and whimper "Mummy please make it stop!" but it twisted its head and sank its foul decaying teeth into his face and ripped his nose clean away from his now rapidly blooded face. The blood sprayed out like a fountain soaking the victor who was busy chewing its prize. The man slumped to the floor and twitched in his final death throes... 

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