674
Flames of Winter
Phineas sat comfortably atop the fur-layered pile of wooden boxes, clothes and rations, not to mention the strapped canister of kerosene oil that accompanied a leaning gas-powered incandescent lantern. His glimmering fur overalls and heavy eye goggles partially protected him from the swift low branches of Aeres winter aspen forests. The wolf pack determined to travel quickly, oblivious to the perennial assault on the jockey who barely gripped on to the lashing harness. The sleigh whisked their way across a shortcut towards the northern trading port of Asch, at night.
The lantern flickered as the pack decelerated down to a cruising speed. Phineas was now given the luxury to swipe the branches away with his tensed left arm before he allowed them to kiss again his splintered face. However, he couldn't stop the gliding snow from injecting frostnip into his callous skin. The sled arrived to an open area and he sighed a deep, foggy breath.
He picked up his lantern by the stick and waved it around to observe the screeching ground. They entered a frozen lake surrounded entirely by the aspen which appeared to sway in rhythm. Phineas quickly turned his left wrist to view the status meter resting on the palm of his hand. The temperature is negative twenty degrees. Hunger and hydronutrition is well beyond satisfactory. The time is a few minutes past the darkest hour.
The lantern flickered again, giving Phineas limited time to refuel the oil. As he poured the contents of the canister into the input below the bulb, essentially filling the entire two-metre perlite stick, he looked up to see one of the pack was missing.
One of the six decent carrier wolves he could afford had disappeared from its harness fixture in front. The rest of the pack didn't seem to care at all and continued galloping. Phineas looked all around him for the poor wolf, despite the darkness that evaded the torchlight. Throughout he couldn't remember hearing anything unusual; it was only the sled scraping the thick ice layer and the wolves puffing and jingling their harnesses like miniature bells. The sled had reached the beach of the lake; he replaced the torch and repositioned his left arm in preparation to bat away the incoming trees. The instant he evaded the first branch, the splintering, shuddering sound that cracked wasn't the only noise he had heard.
There was a sudden gust from the right side of the path. The second wolf in front was lunged at by a speeding shadow. It whimpered out in pain before stumbling down the slope. The rest of the pack almost tripped over the dangling vacant harness, and ran frantically away from the homing shade. Phineas crouched low and accoutred his torch, subconsciously lashing at the wolves. He took his thick fur coat and left it down at an edge from which it abruptly slipped into the abyss behind. He treaded forward, balancing his left foot at the end and twitched his head to the howls that echoed around him. At one perspective, he seemed to have spotted two glowing eyes in the distance.
It was mere moments before his pack would tremble by the loose harness and jeopardise the sleigh. He reached for the frontal fixtures with his torch, having no supporting hold other than the strings which he pulled back tightly, choking them. He had just lifted the dangling ropes when the shadow grabbed another wolf from portside. He was violently turned by the force, almost knocked away from the sled if he hadn't held on to the rope of the three other wolves. He swung his torch at the oncoming branches, all the while hearing growling, whimpering and splinters in the air. Ahead of him, the fog highlighted the dark beast that whizzed left and right. There was more than one.
The slope grew steeper, and the remaining wolves heaved in near-fatigue. The air shifted to one that was harder to breathe. With a leather tunic and breeches, Phineas felt terribly cold warding off the monsters lurking. It was that moment the gliding snow had frostbitten his feet, causing him excruciating pain. He could not stand any longer. He helplessly tumbled backwards, hitting the slope. The pack left him to roll down the snowy ridge, back to the aspen forests...
As he recovered knee-deep in the heavy snow, he could not stop hearing those howls that echoed closer each second. He was still clutching his torch brightly burning in the thick fog dotted by eyes trailing around him.
Under short breaths, he desperately unscrewed the light bulb away from its hilt. He struck its glass dome with the white obsidian stick carefully as not to spill the fuel contents. The tungsten wire remained glowing hot for a few more seconds; it was his only hope. As soon as he saw a pair of eyes lunge towards him from the fog, he pointed the top end of the stick at it. He ignited the fuel input with the wire.
A continuous breath of fire burst from the tip, bathing the beast in fresh flames. Upon hearing more growls, he turned the weapon around, blindly throwing light at everything surrounding him. The fog turned burning red, and the howls stopped.
Phineas lifted his goggles in anticipation to see the burning corpses of the assailants, digging the end of his stick into snow. He couldn't believe what he saw - the beasts still moved towards him, ablaze in fire. They were invulnerable! They absorbed the fire as their own! What are these hellish beasts?! Aeres' hellhounds, he screamed out loud as he braced himself for the nearest infernal dog charging at him.
The flames of winter have been extinguished with one final cry... He was one of them now.
Made for the LoST Tournament Round Two, with the theme "Animal Horror". Not exactly good at horror stories because this is mostly either thriller or fantasy action. Hopefully alot of people agree with me... My opponent's entry and voting poll below :O
LoST Tournament
Camarilla's Entry
Tournament Poll
If you like this story, give it a diamond! If you want to see more of my work, subscribe!
Jukebox Music
The lantern flickered as the pack decelerated down to a cruising speed. Phineas was now given the luxury to swipe the branches away with his tensed left arm before he allowed them to kiss again his splintered face. However, he couldn't stop the gliding snow from injecting frostnip into his callous skin. The sled arrived to an open area and he sighed a deep, foggy breath.
He picked up his lantern by the stick and waved it around to observe the screeching ground. They entered a frozen lake surrounded entirely by the aspen which appeared to sway in rhythm. Phineas quickly turned his left wrist to view the status meter resting on the palm of his hand. The temperature is negative twenty degrees. Hunger and hydronutrition is well beyond satisfactory. The time is a few minutes past the darkest hour.
The lantern flickered again, giving Phineas limited time to refuel the oil. As he poured the contents of the canister into the input below the bulb, essentially filling the entire two-metre perlite stick, he looked up to see one of the pack was missing.
One of the six decent carrier wolves he could afford had disappeared from its harness fixture in front. The rest of the pack didn't seem to care at all and continued galloping. Phineas looked all around him for the poor wolf, despite the darkness that evaded the torchlight. Throughout he couldn't remember hearing anything unusual; it was only the sled scraping the thick ice layer and the wolves puffing and jingling their harnesses like miniature bells. The sled had reached the beach of the lake; he replaced the torch and repositioned his left arm in preparation to bat away the incoming trees. The instant he evaded the first branch, the splintering, shuddering sound that cracked wasn't the only noise he had heard.
There was a sudden gust from the right side of the path. The second wolf in front was lunged at by a speeding shadow. It whimpered out in pain before stumbling down the slope. The rest of the pack almost tripped over the dangling vacant harness, and ran frantically away from the homing shade. Phineas crouched low and accoutred his torch, subconsciously lashing at the wolves. He took his thick fur coat and left it down at an edge from which it abruptly slipped into the abyss behind. He treaded forward, balancing his left foot at the end and twitched his head to the howls that echoed around him. At one perspective, he seemed to have spotted two glowing eyes in the distance.
It was mere moments before his pack would tremble by the loose harness and jeopardise the sleigh. He reached for the frontal fixtures with his torch, having no supporting hold other than the strings which he pulled back tightly, choking them. He had just lifted the dangling ropes when the shadow grabbed another wolf from portside. He was violently turned by the force, almost knocked away from the sled if he hadn't held on to the rope of the three other wolves. He swung his torch at the oncoming branches, all the while hearing growling, whimpering and splinters in the air. Ahead of him, the fog highlighted the dark beast that whizzed left and right. There was more than one.
The slope grew steeper, and the remaining wolves heaved in near-fatigue. The air shifted to one that was harder to breathe. With a leather tunic and breeches, Phineas felt terribly cold warding off the monsters lurking. It was that moment the gliding snow had frostbitten his feet, causing him excruciating pain. He could not stand any longer. He helplessly tumbled backwards, hitting the slope. The pack left him to roll down the snowy ridge, back to the aspen forests...
As he recovered knee-deep in the heavy snow, he could not stop hearing those howls that echoed closer each second. He was still clutching his torch brightly burning in the thick fog dotted by eyes trailing around him.
Under short breaths, he desperately unscrewed the light bulb away from its hilt. He struck its glass dome with the white obsidian stick carefully as not to spill the fuel contents. The tungsten wire remained glowing hot for a few more seconds; it was his only hope. As soon as he saw a pair of eyes lunge towards him from the fog, he pointed the top end of the stick at it. He ignited the fuel input with the wire.
A continuous breath of fire burst from the tip, bathing the beast in fresh flames. Upon hearing more growls, he turned the weapon around, blindly throwing light at everything surrounding him. The fog turned burning red, and the howls stopped.
Phineas lifted his goggles in anticipation to see the burning corpses of the assailants, digging the end of his stick into snow. He couldn't believe what he saw - the beasts still moved towards him, ablaze in fire. They were invulnerable! They absorbed the fire as their own! What are these hellish beasts?! Aeres' hellhounds, he screamed out loud as he braced himself for the nearest infernal dog charging at him.
The flames of winter have been extinguished with one final cry... He was one of them now.
Made for the LoST Tournament Round Two, with the theme "Animal Horror". Not exactly good at horror stories because this is mostly either thriller or fantasy action. Hopefully alot of people agree with me... My opponent's entry and voting poll below :O
LoST Tournament
Camarilla's Entry
Tournament Poll
If you like this story, give it a diamond! If you want to see more of my work, subscribe!
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