Among Us They Come by C.E. Vance (good story books to read .TXT) 📕

All content © C.E.Vance.

Outstretched shadows from the surrounding trees were growing darker along the dusty road as the sun began its slow decent behind the valley’s hills. Soon night would fall, making the roadway perilous to traverse. Avoiding the deep ruts carved into the earth by horse drawn wagons, and seasonal rains would be practically impossible. Stepping unexpectedly into an unseen trench could possibly twist a person’s ankle, or break ones’ leg. With that assessment, Andrew decided he had better set up camp and settle in for the evening; besides, he was getting tired, and the pangs of hunger were becoming more noticeable. Tomorrow he would get a fresh start and continue his journey in search for work as a farmhand, which was his chosen trade.

Pacing his steps slightly faster, Andrew was hoping to soon find a suitable clearing to set up camp. His anticipation increased the further he went, because on either side of him an envelopment of shrubs and bramble extended along the roadway, well beyond his range of view, making it unfavorable to host an evening’s retirement. Thoughts of camping on the roadway atop the hard dusty ground didn’t escape his consideration, but his preference was to find a soft grassy clearance to spread his bedroll upon. So, steadily he proceeded with hastened stride, continuously searching for an opening in the seemingly endless array of thickets.

Finally, up ahead the entanglement of undergrowth ended, and he saw a very welcoming sight. Beneath a stand of maple trees was a small clearing covered with a thick carpet of moss. Without delay he made his way toward and into the awaiting haven of the forest, stooping occasionally to gather sticks for a fire.

Up through the valley a cool breeze slightly stirred the evening blaze, and overhead with soft rustle, leaves shimmered in the amber glow. The chirping of nightly creatures filled the air as the eyes of the forest looked upon the stranger in their midst, and in the distance with faint echo came the haunting call of an owl. Millions of stars lit the cloudless sky as the moon in full grandeur rose steadily above the hills’ summit. Andrew knew the sights and sounds of nature well, and they gave him a feeling of serenity.

Stretching out on the bedroll after a supper of beans and crusty bread his gaze fell upon the arising moon. Reaching beside him, and fumbling inside the old worn knapsack which accompanied him on his journeys, he produced an apple from several he had gathered during the day. While continuing his gaze toward the sky’s glowing orb he savored the sweet tangy fruit.

Few minutes had passed, with finishing of the apple, when serenity ended by the sudden hush of chirping insects in the surrounding. Only the hiss and crackle within the camper’s flames broke the silence.

Startled, Andrew sat up quickly. Instinctively, his hand grasped the revolver’s grip lying holstered beside him and withdrew it as he peered passed the campfire into the darkness. Intensely he listened for the slightest sound of movement beyond the outer edge of the glowing fire, but he heard nothing. Hunkering low, he inched his way into the shadows and waited as he slipped the holster around his waist.

Someone was out there. A bandit perhaps had seen his fire from the road and circled around through the woods intent on robbing and killing him while he lay sleeping. Occurrences of such treacherous deeds were often, and if that was the intent of the intruder, the sudden forest hush had given them away. It clearly wasn’t an animal on the prowl. The singing creatures wouldn’t have paid much heed to the familiar sound of a nocturnal hunter. Whatever or whoever was out there, hiding amongst the trees, was unknown to this part of the forest.

Andrew lay motionless for what seemed an eternity, keenly listening for any indication of movement. Then he heard it. The intruder had made the first mistake. A snapping twig had given the scoundrel’s hiding position away. The sound produced amid the silence reverberated through the darkness like cannon fire. The culprit, if human, which was the most likely assumption, would realize the mistake they had made and lay low for a bit, waiting to see if anyone stirred within the campfires light.

Carefully, Andrew eased the hammer back on the revolver, while muffling the click with his hand. If it was a bandit, he would meet his maker on this eve. "Murderers and cutthroats deserved no less," he thought to himself.

Andrew's heart began to beat faster, and he could feel sweat forming in his palms. Pointing the weapon in the direction of the snapping twig, with eyes squinted for added sharpness, he made effort to discern any shadowy waver of movement within the faint light cast by the moon; prepared to unleash a hail of bullets into any assailant that came forth.

Another snap, and a rustle of brush gave Andrew a breathless startle, and he peered hard in the direction it came. Seconds passed; then, he saw the outline of a figure in the night’s dim illumination dash behind a tree.

"Yes," he said to himself. "It’s a man." No sooner had the thought crossed his mind, when again, the figure crouching somewhat dashed out carelessly, thrashing through the undergrowth, and made his way behind another tree.

"The fool," Andrew thought. "Doesn’t he realize his bold carelessness is going to prove to be his fatal undoing?" It had to be obvious to the intruder that his intended victim was laying in wait for him. With that thought, Andrew shouted out, "whoever you are, I know you’re there, and I have you covered, come on in, or I’ll start shooting."

The moment intensified as Andrew waited for a response, by either an acknowledgement of shout or blaring gunfire. Neither of the anticipated came. Only the unexpected gave reply to his called warning. From within the coverage of the darkened woods came a secession of hideous snarling growls unlike anything Andrew had ever heard before, and a chill of fear raced through him.

He had been wrong. Out there, hiding among the trees, something was stalking him. Within the boundaries of diminished light, it was watching. A creature that walked upright, with appearances, human in form, is what he had seen, but he was positive it wasn’t a bear. The replying growls had convinced him of that.

Andrew’s mind began whirling with thoughts on what to do. He knew that the revolver he carried would afford little protection against a huge predator if it decided to charge into camp and attack him. Even while the shots were still ringing out from the revolvers barrel, without flinching, the snarling beast would be on top of him, ripping at his flesh. Needing, and not having a high velocity rifle to use in self-defense against whatever was lurking within the outskirts of the camp, Andrew realized his perilous situation, and made haste with the best course of action he could think of. Up he jumped, and headed for the nearest tree.

Following suit with a harsh rustling of brush, and trodden sticks snapping, ran the ferocious beast from out of its hiding place snarling viciously in pursuit of Andrew as he darted toward a low hanging branch. Grabbing it, he began pulling himself up into what he hoped would be a safe retreat.

Shudders of fear coursed through his body as he glimpsed the wild beast leap across the campfire from the corner of his eye. Straight for him it charged, ceaselessly snarling, and growling in a rage of wild fury.

"God help me," Andrew screamed, as he tried to pull his heavy frame further up into the branches of the tree, but it was too late. The snarling beast managed to grab his right leg, and began ripping at his flesh with elongated claws that cut to the bone with each slash. Adrenaline fed fear is the only thing that prevented Andrew from succumbing to a loss of consciousnesses as the pain swept through him like searing fire. Relentlessly, the beast continued to maul him. Then with raging savageness, the beast raised its horrible head and glared menacingly into Andrew's eyes. Curling its lips, in haunting similarity to a sinister smile, it thrust its head forward and sank its protruding drool soaked fangs into Andrew’s leg.

Screaming in pain, Andrew managed to pull the revolver from its holster, and the shots rang out like thunder. Blood spattered from between the horrible creature’s eyes each time he pulled the trigger, and finally, the beast recoiled momentarily from the onslaught, loosening its torturous grip on Andrew’s leg, enabling him to ascend further into the tree.

The pain in his mangled leg was excruciating, but that was the least of his worries. The hideous beast hadn’t been affected by the shots expelled from his revolver.

In the glow of the campfire, the creature’s eyes glistened with wild madness while it paced back and forth leering wildly up into the tree. Saliva foamed around its mouth like a rabid dog, as it growled and curled its lips back, baring razor sharp fangs. Never, even in his most frightening nightmares could Andrew have envisioned such a horror. This was not an animal, nor a human. This was a demon from the pits of hell trouncing about beneath. In full muscular stature, it stood approximately six feet tall, and was covered with long bristling hair.

For hours the beast paced, lurching upwards toward him, growling with drool spewing forth, and fangs lashing as Andrew clung to the branches of the tree. Finally, the beast gave up its relentless evil intent, but before it left, it glared sinisterly up into the tree at him, and emitted a blood-curdling howl that made Andrew’s hair stand up on the back of his neck. Looking down at the creature, he could now distinguish each of the creatures striking resemblances to a wolf. His blood ran cold, as he looked upon the monster and recalled tales he had heard that even brought chilling shudders to the bravest of souls. Here was a huge wolf-like monster, walking upright like a human with each of its characteristic features fulfilling the descriptions remembered so well from stories related, and he had been bitten by this devil. The realization of Andrews’s thoughts became a certainty as he lifted his eyes upward to gaze at the full moon. Reaching behind him, Andrew withdrew a cartridge from his hostler, and placed it in his revolver. Hopefully, his own hand would spare him from the hellish curse.

Putting the gun to his head, he knew what he had to do; but was it too late? Was he to suffer the same curse that had befallen the beast that had attacked him? Would death now prevent a life of eternal damnation? A shot rang out, and echoed through the valley. Branches gave way and snapped from Andrew’s falling weight. With a heavy thud, he hit the ground, and lay still beside the glowing fire.

The sky was filled with the brightness of the shining moon, and the nightly creatures began to chirp in a rhythmic melody. From across the valley the haunting call of an owl could be heard, and in the haven carpeted with moss, Andrew stirred, and emitted a low growl. Pursuit of death by his own hand had not spared him.

True to legend and spoken only in whispers by those gathered round the evening hearth, beneath the moon that rises in its fullness at night, foreboding beasts come forth and roam the land, and whosoever survives the fanged terrors’ vicious bite is doomed to bear the hideous curse that only the werewolf knows.

C.E.Vance

The End