Post by Echo on Oct 16, 2013 13:51:07 GMT
This is my submission for the contest. I hope I'm not breaking any rules here. I had dialogue, but one of my characters was a wolf, so he didn't speak of course. If that doesn't count, just exclude my entry. Also, sorry if this is too graphic for this site. I tried not to make it that bad. And it is a little less than one page when single-spaced, in 12 point font Times New Roman, and indented rather than how it's set up for the forums.
The beast’s head was low as he drew in the scents of the woods around him. This winter had been hard on him. Food was scarce, and his lean frame no longer held some of the muscle from his younger days. His big yellow eyes were sharp and focused now, though. That damned red hood was always in the trees just out of reach, bouncing in the corners of his vision.
With a snarl, the large brown canine flung himself back into the shrubbery and bush that spring had grown. His paws now held a purpose as they carried him through the woods, as far from the house as he could get. Little Red Riding Hood went there every day, carrying her cute little basket to her granny, a camouflaged backpack flung over her shoulders. Every day he watched her, hidden by the trees, and each day she found him.
Suddenly, the wolf stopped, frozen with one paw in the air. He could smell her. He cast a nervous glance over his shoulder, fearing he would see that red hood bouncing along behind him. He didn’t. He turned forward again, placing his paw down when he saw it. It was in front of him, coming ever nearer. Whimpering, the wolf began to back up, but she was already in the small clearing with him. Red wore the same bright red hoodie she always did, the hood up and over her long brown curls. She wore camouflage pants under that matched the backpack she wore. The basket was on the ground, momentarily forgotten. Finally the wolf’s gaze reached the gun pointed toward his face. A low whine rippled in his throat.
“Oh wolf, what scared eyes you have.” Red cooed, grinning at the beast. He whined again, but knew it would do no good. She’d finally found him.
“Oh wolfie, how your lips quiver in fear,” she continued in a soft voice.
No. He wouldn’t just lie down and take this. Not after running for so long. He pulled his lips back into a snarl, tensing his body.
“Poor little wolf, how your blood will paint this floor.” continued Red in a voice that sent chills through the beast. She raised the gun, smiled at the wolf, and pulled the trigger.
Her screams pierced the air, filling the woods with the chaotic songs of agony.
The beast had latched himself onto her, under her gun, tearing her open. He refused to be hunted by this Devil child any longer; he wouldn’t let her have the satisfaction of his murder.
When she finally stopped screaming and grew limp, the wolf gave her one last grave look. He kicked a bit of dirt over the body and the red-painted forest floor, then turned his back on Little Blood Red Riding Hood.
The beast’s head was low as he drew in the scents of the woods around him. This winter had been hard on him. Food was scarce, and his lean frame no longer held some of the muscle from his younger days. His big yellow eyes were sharp and focused now, though. That damned red hood was always in the trees just out of reach, bouncing in the corners of his vision.
With a snarl, the large brown canine flung himself back into the shrubbery and bush that spring had grown. His paws now held a purpose as they carried him through the woods, as far from the house as he could get. Little Red Riding Hood went there every day, carrying her cute little basket to her granny, a camouflaged backpack flung over her shoulders. Every day he watched her, hidden by the trees, and each day she found him.
Suddenly, the wolf stopped, frozen with one paw in the air. He could smell her. He cast a nervous glance over his shoulder, fearing he would see that red hood bouncing along behind him. He didn’t. He turned forward again, placing his paw down when he saw it. It was in front of him, coming ever nearer. Whimpering, the wolf began to back up, but she was already in the small clearing with him. Red wore the same bright red hoodie she always did, the hood up and over her long brown curls. She wore camouflage pants under that matched the backpack she wore. The basket was on the ground, momentarily forgotten. Finally the wolf’s gaze reached the gun pointed toward his face. A low whine rippled in his throat.
“Oh wolf, what scared eyes you have.” Red cooed, grinning at the beast. He whined again, but knew it would do no good. She’d finally found him.
“Oh wolfie, how your lips quiver in fear,” she continued in a soft voice.
No. He wouldn’t just lie down and take this. Not after running for so long. He pulled his lips back into a snarl, tensing his body.
“Poor little wolf, how your blood will paint this floor.” continued Red in a voice that sent chills through the beast. She raised the gun, smiled at the wolf, and pulled the trigger.
Her screams pierced the air, filling the woods with the chaotic songs of agony.
The beast had latched himself onto her, under her gun, tearing her open. He refused to be hunted by this Devil child any longer; he wouldn’t let her have the satisfaction of his murder.
When she finally stopped screaming and grew limp, the wolf gave her one last grave look. He kicked a bit of dirt over the body and the red-painted forest floor, then turned his back on Little Blood Red Riding Hood.
I'm glad that I don't seem to have broken any rules, and I'm glad you enjoyed reading it!