Flashmaster (Short Horror and SciFi)

Fog and Snow

The air was frosty; a thick kind of frosty that was misty even while the snow drifted down in clumps that shattered silently when they hit the arm of your coat. The snow disappeared into the still running river like souls descending into the underdark.

Kiel knelt and gazed across the water. The village was barely visible; the glow of yellow in the windows and the two colored smudge where the hill ran up from the river and vanished into the tree line. His breath was hot and echoed loudly in his ears, hot under his fur lined hood.

"Psst." He hissed. "Come Fang."

A large hound sidled up out of the fog. It stood over him as knelt but bent its head down as if to listen.

Kiel seemed near tears. "The boat has gone already." He panted. "The only hope is the raft at the mill, but I cannot make it. They are too fast. Will you help me?"

The dog stood still as clumps of snow broke across its nose and back.

"You must run South while I run North. Will you do this?"

As if understanding the question, Fang looked South to where the river bank vanished in the gathering twilight. It looked back over its shoulder then and a howl sounded in the hills behind them. The dog made a huffing sound and took of to the South barking in a giant voice. Kiel shot off to the North.

As he ran through the rising darkness of the fog and snow, Kiel could hear the chase behind him. First one, then two, then half a dozen howling, slavering voices pursued Fangs howling bark to the South. For a few seconds Kiel could hear the drumming rhythm of feet and knuckles on the half frozen ground. Then it was gone.

He ran on, past a snow fence and up a hill where the water cut a broad swath across the bands of colored earth. He tripped down the far side, always close to the river, always at a dead run.

After a short time, the sounds of pursuit changed. There was a silence, then a fury of yelps and barks, followed by a high squeaking howl. Kiel cursed furiously and tears started in his eyes. He was half blind and fell into a small stream bed where he paused a moment in the freezing mud.

They only came in the snow. By nightfall in winter everyone in the village was across the river with their doors barred. But it was September, there were still berries. He and Fang had gone over the river to fetch berries, that was all, then came the rain, and the fog, then the broad flakes. By the time he had heard them, far up in the hills, it was too late. The boat was gone and he'd had to ask Fang to do the unthinkable.

A howl pulled him from his thoughts. They would be on his scent in a moment. They knew that there was a human on this side of the river. They wouldn't stop until they found him.

Kiel stuck his hands into the muck and pushed himself up. His hands were cut from the brush and soaked in mud but he couldn't feel them because of the terror and the cold.

It was nearly dark now and he was in more open county where the fields emptied directly into the river. It was all stubble, the harvest having ended weeks ago. He made good time with only the rustle of this legs across the cut stems and the hoarse rushing of his breath to keep him company. Then came the howl again. So close behind him that he thought it must be on top of him. Another came from off to his right. They had spread out as they moved North, hunting him.

There were two more howls near the first, they were almost on him.

Out of the fog a shape loomed; the mill. He shot past the wheel and rocketed over the bridge that spanned the small pond. It was across a sandy spit then and, at last, he was at the raft. It was a broad, shallow keeled boat with a wooden pole at each end. The poles each had an eye and a rope ran from the mill, through the eyes and out into the dark of the river.

Kiel knelt down and heaved the raft out into the water. It slid, first with agonizing slowness, then faster into the river. As he jumped on board, the boards on the bridge behind him clattered as if hit with a heavy weight. Furiously, he pulled at the rope and the raft slid away from the shore.

When they appeared, they were like monstrous shadows, wolf men, eight feet at the shoulder with high, hairy backs and long arms that reached down to the ground, their back legs were shorter but strong and capable of a leap as long as the distance to the boat, but they didn't jump. They milled on the bank, looking as much like misshapen horses as men or wolves. Their eyes glowed blue in the darkening twilight.

At last, one of them grabbed hold of the rope and began to climb, hand over hand.  Kiel pulled as fast as he could though there was no hope he would outrun the coming monster.

As the monster neared the boat, the rope sagged slightly under the weight and the beast's tail touched the water. Instantly, there was swirl and the water turned as if something massive were moving underneath. Unaware that it was in danger, the wolf man continued to advance.

The water erupted suddenly, and rose like a giant flower around the wolf. As quickly as the flower had formed, it folded and was gone with the monster in its trap.

After a few long seconds, the wolf man reappeared in a boil. It thrashed at the surface, soaking Kiel and howled the howl of a creature in pain. It went under again and, with the last glimmer of light, Kiel saw a stain of dark red spread under the water. On the bank, the other wolf men turned back and vanished into the murk.

Kiel fell flat on his back and panted in the dark. For once, he was glad you couldn't set foot in the river.

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