Chapter 1 - The Chase

944 35 19
                                    

This is a Prequel to The Human Xenocide, but its far enough earlier to not contain any spoilers about The Human Xenocide- so feel free to read!  You know that character in The Human Xenocide, Pop (later known as Zee)?  Yeah, well he was actually my very first character ever.  This was also my very first attempt at writing from 7 years ago (heavily, heavily re-written and edited of course).

Enjoy! Please VOTE and comment on this story, I don't think anyone has ever seen this - I previously considered it way too bad for the public sphere, but I decided to give it a second chance (don't worry, its not that bad now lol, I edited a lot).  If you like it enough (if it gets popular enough) I may even up the update rate to 2x a week.

------

Lost, confused, and in awe a boy looked up to the sky from a-top an awkward building. Where am I? He wondered. What am I doing up here? He stumbled forward in a daze to look over the edge and felt himself fall, passing into darkness before his body slammed into the road beneath.

It was chasing, closing in, Peter's sweat soaked black hair stuck to his forehead as he ran. He spun his head around to see if it was still following. His hair gleamed in a ray of sunshine that clashed through the forest cover, its black thread quality almost unreal. He turned back around, he couldn't see it, but it was sure to be following him. He brushed the sticky hair out of his eyes with his slightly tanned hand cursing his blue long sleeve shirt and black jeans in the humid forest.

The hair on the back of his neck stuck up as he sensed it once more, without hesitation he stopped, the black shadow was creeping along the forest floor a few feet in front of him, as if waiting for an ambush. No. He veered around it in a desperate attempt to get past it. Suddenly it was underneath him again, it had sped up once again.

Shit. A grey, damp boney hand reached out of the depths of the shadow, trying once again to grab at his leg. Its stiff grip barely missed his leg, snatching jeans, the grab slipped, Peter stumbled over but managed to stay on his feet as he picked his body back up into a full on sprint. Why? Why was it chasing me? What was it? Questions flowed through his head as he continued to run. His body began to feel heavy, despite carrying almost nothing, whatever it was it was wearing him down.

His sprint slowed into a jog once more hoping this time it wouldn't come back. Peter looked around with his off sync jog, the trees looked bigger, a lot bigger than when he first entered. For the first time since he entered the forest he gazed around in his run somewhere other than directly in front of him, they were absolutely massive. He tried to trace a tree's trunk but his eyes got lost in the distance as he looked up; the first branch was barely visible and it appeared the further into the forest he went the larger they got. It was dizzying rounding around the trunks now boarding what seemed like 1000's of feet across. He tried to push himself faster disregarding the amazing sights, he had to keep going or else the thing following him would catch up.

- Three Hours Earlier -

Peter opened the door of the dated antique pawn shop. It rattled, a bell attached to the top corner of the glass door rung as he walked through the doorway. Dust covered everything in the shop. Out of all the fascinating, old, and rare items in the store he had his eyes on one thing. He glared at the scroll placed gently on a red cloth located in the display window he walked past, that. It was the only thing occupying the massive, grimy window. Everything in this old store matched the stores age if not older, and the price marked on each item was outrageous, he was surprised this store could even afford to still exist. Red and white danger signs marked almost every item.

Peter walked around the dusty table placed shortly after the door, on the table was several boxes and a sign 'non-powder firecrackers, Dud rate: 37% Price: 200 Fed's each,' unbelievable. After circling the table he continued down the single file corridor that followed. Four small isles protruded from each side of the pathway. Each isle was he wasn’t sure was large enough for a person to even squeeze through and had shelves covered with rusty junk that piled to the rooftop.  More small red and white danger stickers stuck to majority of the objects, the stickers stood out in the filth because of their elastic quality to repel the dust and dirt.

The Blood TrailsWhere stories live. Discover now