Shadow's Reach

June 30th, 9:54 a.m.

Last night was my twenty-first birthday. My friends and I stayed up late, unfortunately I think I passed out before any of them. When I woke up, they were gone. It was obviously a prank, and a rather cruel one. We did it to James last May.

'I suppose they're going to make me walk all the way to the street,' I thought. We were camping out in an old state park, so those of us under age could get by with drinking. To be honest, I didn't know where to go.

A deep loud, deep humming noise erupted in the distance. The sound made my soul tremble in fear. I knew that sound had to have been created by people; it was a deep sounding musical horn, or something. I knew the only way out of here was to follow it. So I did. It was the worst mistake I've ever made.

'Why does every tree have to look exactly the same,' I thought. I was always a poor navigator. I found my destination by using the sound alone. After hours of walking, I came upon an old house. It was more of a cabin. It was built with old, rotting wood, held together by fungus. It looked as if it were built in the 18th century, but never used. Never cleaned.

The humming was as loud as ever. It shook the ground and I felt my spine twitch. When I finally collected enough courage to open the door, it fell. The loud echo of its impact caused the humming to cease. My spine, and my entire body was trembling in fear now.

I had nowhere else to go but forward. The smell was that of a rotting, dead animal. In fact, that's what I saw. In the center of the main room was a dead boar lying on the floor, bathing in it's own old blood, infested with maggots. I wanted to leave. As I headed for the door, the humming sounded again. It came from the next room.

There was nothing particularly interesting about the kitchen, and to my frustration and relief, there was nothing here to cause the humming. The horrific sound let out again. It sounded alive. It sounded pitiful yet, full of hate. It came from the bottom of the basement.

"Hello?" I shouted down into the dark abyss of the basement. "Steven!? James?"

I was at the peak of my fear, and as I was turning around to leave, sharp wind cut through the house and sent me directly to the bottom of the basement. Faint light cut through the cracks of the upper wall. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I could see a face.

"Alan!" I shouted his name with both surprise and relief.

He said nothing.

"Alright, you can knock it off now."

As my eyes adjusted to the light more, I realized something was hanging around this neck. A necklace of some sort. I pulled it of. It felt slippery. As I looked closely I realized it was made of flesh. When I seen the blood dripping from Alan’s mouth, I realized I was holding his tongue. I threw it down in shock. I quickly turned and ran up the stairs.

When I made it back to the main room, I found a creature standing in the center. I paused in fear. He turned around and stared back into me. Perhaps "he" is not the best word for referring to it. It had the body of a very tall man, but it's head resembled a burnt wild boar. Without eyes or ears. Without sight or sound, but I had no time to wonder if it had those senses. Although it seemed emotionless, I could almost feel the grin behind its tusks. It walked over to a large, broken pipe on the table. I could hear the rust slowly scratching across the table. Then it stared at me. I wanted to run. I wanted to run because I knew there were things worse than dying, yet I was paralyzed with fear.

The creature growled. It did not sound like a boar. It sounded like a hungry wolf, defending its territory. It lunged itself at me smashing the pipe onto my head. I felt terrible pain, but I remained conscious. I used my arms to cover my head. He sent a quick blow to my ribcage.

It made a sound, as if it were amused; something in between a growl and a laugh. Within this sound, the words "Run, don't let them see you," arrived into my ears. I did not perceive those words. I was far too frightened.

The creature disappeared. I lain on the floor holding my wounds. As I bled on the floor, I thought to myself, "Why...what did I do to deserve this?" Then I fell into a deep sleep.

I awoke in my tent. I was unwounded, and I could hear my friends talking amongst one another. It was dark outside, all I could see was a glow from the fire and the shadows my friends were casting. It was as if nothing had happened at all.

"Run, don't let them see you." What did that mean? The words hit me, as did the rest of the dream. I did not half remember it like most other dreams. I remembered this dream as if it happed here, in the physical world. I didn't let it bother me for too long. It was just a dream, and I was hungry. I wanted some marsh mellows.

I opened the tent, and saw my friends standing around the fire. As soon as they noticed me, they stopped talking. They stared at me. It was one of those awkward silent moments.

"I had one hell of a dream," I said as I went for the marsh mellows. That's when I noticed Alan had a large, broken pipe in his hand. "What the hell?" He lunged himself at me, smashing the pipe onto my head. I fell to the ground, startled and hurt. I covered my head, but he sent a quick blow to my ribcage. I lain on the ground holding my wounds. "Why, Alan. Why are you doing this?"

"You had it coming. You were always the boar, waiting to get hunted. And I am the hunter. How can I the hunter keep himself from killing his game? It's just unnatural." Alan said, as he was pouring gasoline all over my body. "I don't expect you to understand. Animals never understand why they are getting hunted." The others laughed as he threw a burning match onto me.

The End.