The Legend of the Armorak.

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The Legend of the Armorak.

Post by AndHellFollowed on Sat Jan 12, 2013 1:42 am

Roughly proof read over morning coffee. Typing errors are likely, I'm aware some still probably exist. Graphic content / language warning ( not of a sexual nature. ) Hope you enjoy the read and you are more than welcome to express your thoughts or opinions, just please be respectful and mindful there is another human being behind the screen.

It was dark that night, as it often was in the middle of winter. they always picked the worst times to go camping. Not a star in the sky and the moon hung pregnant on the horizon, full to burst and casting a dim light on a darker scene. Treetops sprouted around them in a parapet of stalks, lucky enough to be cleared in a relatively open area they had set up a fire for the night. Alcohol imbibed, smoke passed and their laughter flooded the treeline. Camping was a yearly tradition, bring out the old folks and let them tell ghost stories every night. Marsh mellows bubbled and the laughter ceased as story time began...

" You ever heard of an Amarok ? " The voice spoke, parting lips of an old man with skin so tan it looked burnt..that sort of golden brown a man had from heritage rather than sunlight. Black hair laced up in a leather band, adorned with a feather. Pab's in one hand and a cigarette hooked over his opposite digits as eyes narrowed in expression of a question.

A crack of lightning into the night, the boom echoed off the hilltops, scattering wildlife and bleaching the darkness in stark white. " SHIT ! PLEASE ! PLEASE, NO ! " Gasping, thrashing from the tree stand, it had to be a seven foot fall square to his face, but already he could hear it crawling...Hissing in the treetops like a serpent that found it's newest mouthful. A twist of body, legs flailing beneath him, kicking up dirt and leaves alike in a panic. Hands clawed for his rifle, but it had fallen to the wayside, still boiling hot and smoking from the round expended. " P-please ! Oh, God, Please ! " There was no other option but to run, run like he had never run before. Mere seconds into the sprint his chest burst into flames, the sound of his own heart thundering in his ears. Each pulsation of blood made a flush of pressure hit his cheeks, his ears, numbing the sound of massive thuds behind him. The trees rose their dark branches skyward, but there was no light to be found here--a cast back of eyes saw the fleeting light of a flashlight become crushed by a shadow enclosing. His gait burst higher, branches gnashing teeth into flesh, shredding closing, smacking his roiling skin. " Not this way ! N-NO, PLEASE !! " His voice cracked, gargling blood and shrieking beyond his control--A scream so curdling that he felt the night's air run frigid with his own terror. No matter how fast he ran, the trot behind him sounded relaxed, like it could keep up with him with no issue--the sensation of eyes upon him made such a foolish task of looking back all the more fearful. A singular snap of an eye and a head turned to look behind him, just in time for an over sized branch of a sapling to slice across his cheek, lancing it deeply and leaving blood dripping down his jaw. Those eyes laid upon another pair--the size of softballs in the night he could only see the glowing moons of a predator's gaze upon him, split with a razor's line of black down their center they watched, unblinking, unmoving. A growl broke into the night and a scream soon followed.

" An Ama---Amawok ? That's the stupidest name I've ever heard ! " A voice responded, spritely and light, disbelieving of a name that she should have known. Blonde in crown, chopped short with glasses upon her features, coiled into the fetal position in the lap of her mate, a brunette haired fellow who had a ballcap seated in a tilt atop his brow. " You can't be serious, Kevin...Tell us a better story, this isn't the muppet show. "

" This is a good story, just listen..." A roll of eyes from the native male and he rebalanced his tone--dark and cold. " Legend says it stalks the woodlands---the Inuits believed it was a lone wolf. " A momentary pause, for dramatic effect, was interrupted with a sigh. " A wolf ? " The female voice chimed.." Yes, a wolf...but not a wolf as you or I know them--bigger...They said it stood head and shoulders above a man--a mouth filled with more teeth than the eye could count...horrible, white eyes that searched the woods for any hunter who had been too foolish to bring a friend... " Another pause, but this one from interjection at the crack of a can, painting fingers in beer. A momentary breath of smoke and he re-adjoined the tale. " They say if you saw it's stripes you were already luckier than it's latest victim...It didn't eat deer or rabbit--or anything of the woods that did not hunt it's self...It only wished to eat those with the taste of another predator. " A curl of lips and the female led a question again. " So..a wolf that eats wolves ? "

Finally ! The Clearing ! The truck was close, escape was in sight--so distant still but he ran like mad, if only he could make it into his vehicle he could surely get home, get away from this thing that lurched behind him. He no longer had the breath to scream, merely the gulping, ragged gasps of air. No matter the distance, the creature kept it's place--he had pushed harder and harder and gained no ground. As he burst into the plain, a pure clearing for miles, surrounded by greenery, he realized that the night had befallen darkness. No moon no longer sat above him, no cloud in the sky---a thousand white eyes stared down upon him and he shuddered, his mind foggy--it sweat off of him as the blood dripped down his cheek. The beast did not chase because it could not catch---it longed after the flavor of his fear. " Please God...No...I promise to fuck I'll tell my wife, Please...I'll never come here again, I'm so sorry.. " He was erratic, mumbling swears, prayers and pleads into the blackness that closed in upon him. A tilt of eyes sideward and he spotted another shadow--yet another predator, much smaller than the first. It trotted behind him with a vicious, rabid growl--longing for the taste of fear as that which crawled behind him. A snap of eyes over and he spotted the timberwolf. Oversized mass of gray and black that sprinted behind him. But it was in that same moment the night roared with something no man had known. A collage of pitches from highest trills as hawk calls to the lowest, deepest baritones of black that gurgled in a bear's maw. A snort, something akin to that of a bull with a expulsion of air, raising pitch and fervor of the call. A turn of eyes in time to see a wolf swallowed by a gaping, fanged maw---layers of teeth that serraded flesh like tissue paper. A yelp and spree of whimpers crunched out of life in a moment and his eyes snapped back forward. " HELP ! "

Her question was answered quickly. " You could say it that way--they say it was a man who was so hungry for power that he gave his soul away to the devil...left it to the witches to mold and shape--to change...Whatever it eats, it's absorbs it's power. " The girl crunched up her nose. " Any hunter who roams without someone to watch his back is certain to die while the Amorack still lives. No matter how much it eats, it can never be sated...Grandpaw always said it's skin was so thick that a spear would just chip off---an axe would only tickle it. " The female shot in again. " Yeah, but what about a gun ? " The male laughed. " There's tales that say men have shot it--burned it--run it over with cars...It always comes back because it's still hungry. You ever hear of those hunters who go out in the woods and just go missing ? It's the Amarock---why bring a lamb to the lion's den if you want it back ? "

The female scoffed. " That's stupid. " Her voice shook. " Tommy goes hunting all the time, he's never seen anything in these woods. " The male nodded. " The Waheela doesn't consider every hunter fit for it's belly...How many times has Tommy missed ? " An incredulous stare from the native got the thump of a marshmellow off his shirt, thrown from the female's mate. " You're stupid man...hop up baby, I gotta go. " Tommy was shoving the blonde away and soon he was easing to his feet, yawning and stretching, adjusting the hat to sit lower. Off he marched from the campfire and soon was sliding behind the truck, a momentary pause to turn on the headlights and he was headed beyond the truck, into the woodwork to find himself a spot to be relieved.

His whimpers deafened him to the call behind him, the crunch of bone, a hissing throat and white eyes that pierced him even now. The thuds were closing in, the hot gush of heated air behind him, but the truck was in sight. He could see it right there ! The sound of elation, that sort of whimper a man gets when his muscles burn so badly he was sure Hell crawled beneath his flesh. His arms jostled, limp, his legs buckled higher into his chest and he screamed for reprieve, but no other greeted him. It was in this moment, his eyes had affixed to a position and did not watch the world beneath. A boot caught the edge of log and all the hope that he saw in the distance dived into the earth. A collision of heaving chest and sweating brow into the earth beneath, tumbling--gasping and grunting, the sudden, harsh snap of bone of leg and he tumbled, pain surging, eyes wide as he collapsed upon his back. There above him lay a thousand pinpricks of light--but all he saw was the white eyes of a beast unseen. The thuds slowed--down to a series of grunting thunks that neared him. The breath of the beast was calm, as if the pace he had set was no more than a jog. His breath filled the air, whimpering beyond his control, blood stained him, pain filled him, but he prayed--as a man such as he had never prayed. " Please God...Save me. " But there was no answer from God as the Devil's eyes craned into his view. The maw dripping blood upon his features he could only scream as teeth shined against his iris...A scream so loud it echoed off the hillsides and into the night cut short with a snap.

" I think you're bullshitting, Kevin...It's just a legend right ? " The female pleaded, her voice a coo of worry...The older native man just chuckled and nodded straightway. " Yeah, it's an old wive's tale...It's just supposed to spook you ! " A shake of his head and the male was rising up. " Hey Tommy ! You done pissin' yet ? " There was no answer from the woodline as they neared the truck..The girl injectured further. " Where did you hear the story about that thing ? The Amarok ? " The male glanced to the blonde as the truckdoor opened. " My grandfather used to tell me about it. " The door slammed shut and eyes turned downward. " Is that Tommy's hat ? " The blonde lowered herself to scoop up the garment and inspected it---as pristine as it had been, still moist with sweat. " Y-yeah...Tommy ? "


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