Post 16-General/Glare of the Moon

DANG. League of Legends is awesome. And Minecraft? Addicting.

Hence why i haven't posted the last few days, in addition too being an usher for 12 hours on saturday and doing stuff on sunday. So yea, i was busy. ANYWAY.

More stuff to come later this week. For now, enjoy Glare of The Moon, a story that was fun to write but that still needs improvement :P (as they all do)

Glare of The Moon

The wind washed through Michael's hair as he gasped for air. It was stifling. Not like the kind of heavy, particle filled air in a factory...no...it was laden with fear, held down by human emotion.

Michael was running for his life.

Behind him he could hear the cracking of branches, the sound of undergrowth being brushed aside as something large followed. Out of the corner of his eye, shapes, amalgamous and shifting, lurched forward to follow him.

While he ran with every inch of his body, they were barely loping along. He knew he was going to die.

Earlier he had sat in a tent, drug along on another of Rob's stupid ideas. They had trekked for a few hours along a crumbling trail of leaf matter to find a small campsite, where they would spend the weekend 'reflecting'.

“It'll be good for us, Mike. Getting out...away from the city for a little while,” Rob reassured him.

Michael had been less than eager, even after Rob offered to carry the gear. As per the idea of being close to the wild they had only packed the most basic things they would need.

Tent, fire, fork, talk, relaxation. It was actually going better than he imagined, Michael had thought.

Then the oddest thing happened, as they sat there talking about the lives they lived, how detatched it had all been. As Michael looked out across the leaves that laid upon the ground, past the bright glare of the moon, he saw two lights. He was transfixed to them, drawn to them, and Rob noticed.

“...I suppose it's all for the best.” said Rob, polishing off a cigarette. He glanced to Michael, and saw his intensity. “What're you looking at? You see something out there?” he asked, a hint of concern lining the question.

“Two lights, out there past the trees. You see them?” Mike asked.

Rob looked, but saw nothing. He stared for several long moments, choking down his words.

“No...” There was an unnatural whine to the tip of his response.

“It's probably nothing, forget I said anything.” Mike replied, waving it off with a careless gesture and resuming the normalcy of the evening. Rob continued to talk, determined to bring the conversation back, but Mike didn't forget.

After Rob had grown weary of talking, after he slipped into the tent, the moment forgotten, Michael stayed outside and dowsed the fire. The smoke and sizzle of a dieing flame conquered his senses as he felt it. In the instant it was the taste of the air as it raced down to his lungs that had caught his attention; the dampness and flavor of something wild dousing the smoke's hold in his chest. The hairs of his neck, chest, thighs, and forearms rose up, perking to catch a glimpse at what was there. Something watching him.

Paranoid, Mike looked around, but the quiet breeze passing through the trees confirmed the suspicion he was just hearing things. A deep breath calmed his body, the mind overpowering the nervousness of his being. Leaning over and picking up a can of SPAM he had been snacking on he heard a loud crack. He jumped instinctively thinking it was a gunshot; far worse than the twig it likely was.

Michael looked up and saw two orbs of blue flame much closer than they had been before. They were staring at him, unblinking globes, pupil-less. The still air and the glare of the moon encapsulated his sense of being alone, lost in the eyes of something he didn't understand and as such, feared. Perhaps only a second passed as Michael contemplated what to do, allowing his body to take over for his slow mind.

Michael dropped what he was holding and ran. He wasn't able to wake Rob, his legs wouldn't let him as the large wolfish eyes came bearing down.

Now there were more, all around him, slant gazes through the brush, watching him run. The shadows of wolves jogging alongside him. He ran for hours, as they kept pace. He ran all the way down the trail, past the cracked ground, over creeks of water, his lungs, his legs, his entire body burning with a fiery, fearful passion.

Days later Michael sat in a clinic. As he peered past the Doctor who was asking him uncomfortable questions, as he played with the edges of the sheet he now wore for clothing and held Rob's hand for support, he saw the doors of the ward swinging back and forth to the ticking of a clock.

The glare of the lights cast a shadow across the carts being wheeled in and out, and far off, unclear at first, a glint, a lowly speck of light graced the windows of the doors leading outside.

Michael looked closer, forcing himself to stare down the hallway, causing everyone in the room to look as well. As Rob firmly and lovingly gripped his hand, Michael's vision kept tunneling forward, straight to the window, then through it. And there, looking through the still night air outside, sat two orbs of light.

And they were looking right back at him.