Of the Night by Aaron Redfern (good beach reads TXT) π
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Carver was a creature of the night. Often on frosty, corpse-chilled midnights like this, when few people dared to walk in the open and brave the primal resurrections of their childhood fears, he felt a thrum of pride from high in his gut, from that same place where people felt the screeching nails of terror pulsing up with every sound out of the brush, because he knew that there was nothing really in the shadows that was dangerous as him.
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- Author: Aaron Redfern
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he refused to retreat any further.
The worst thing, worse than all the pain burning through every inch of his body, was the humiliation he felt at being helpless. The complete and total embarrassment of knowing that he was doomed because he was not strong enough to fight the monster that was prepared to kill him.
Carver crouched again into a fighterβs springing stance, his broken arm cradled against his belly, his good arm out in front of him. He saw his own hand and realized that it was rigid and curled, like claws. He was a creature of the night, he thought with a desperation that ate through all of the pride he tried to summon. There was a thing inside him, a true thing, and it was better than this.
He struck when she was two yards away, hoping to catch her off guard with the sudden power of his assault. Casually, she raked a clawed hand through his guts. He was almost spun off his feet by the force of the blow. He tried to keep himself up and instead stumbled back, keeling more and more off balance until his back crunched against the floor of the alley.
She crossed the last remaining distance slowly, her every motion part of an effortless whole. Fog poured from her nostrils and rose up into the night air. He hated her, and hated the cruel chance that had brought him to this moment.
As she closed in, he thought that he had been wrong about himself all along. She was the thing he had always wanted to be, that he had let himself believe he truly was. He had been so stupid. Even with her jaws opening toward his throat, he laughed at his own stupidity. There was a lesson to be learned, and she was the better teacher.
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The worst thing, worse than all the pain burning through every inch of his body, was the humiliation he felt at being helpless. The complete and total embarrassment of knowing that he was doomed because he was not strong enough to fight the monster that was prepared to kill him.
Carver crouched again into a fighterβs springing stance, his broken arm cradled against his belly, his good arm out in front of him. He saw his own hand and realized that it was rigid and curled, like claws. He was a creature of the night, he thought with a desperation that ate through all of the pride he tried to summon. There was a thing inside him, a true thing, and it was better than this.
He struck when she was two yards away, hoping to catch her off guard with the sudden power of his assault. Casually, she raked a clawed hand through his guts. He was almost spun off his feet by the force of the blow. He tried to keep himself up and instead stumbled back, keeling more and more off balance until his back crunched against the floor of the alley.
She crossed the last remaining distance slowly, her every motion part of an effortless whole. Fog poured from her nostrils and rose up into the night air. He hated her, and hated the cruel chance that had brought him to this moment.
As she closed in, he thought that he had been wrong about himself all along. She was the thing he had always wanted to be, that he had let himself believe he truly was. He had been so stupid. Even with her jaws opening toward his throat, he laughed at his own stupidity. There was a lesson to be learned, and she was the better teacher.
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Text: Aaron Redfern
Publication Date: 04-02-2012
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Free e-book: Β«Of the Night by Aaron Redfern (good beach reads TXT) πΒ» - read online now on website american library books (americanlibrarybooks.com)
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