Nouveau Posted October 8 Share Posted October 8 Part 1 Closing eyes attempted to focus on the road ahead of it, continually sucked beneath 18 wheels and 36 metric tons of freight and tractor. Gavs Urs kicked himself awake and looked at the time on the dashboard. Nearly 1800 hours. He was coming up on the end of his 10 hour limit for driving. He had to stop soon if he wanted to be on the right side of the law. The next town is just a couple clicks away the veteran said to himself, I just need to get there. Gavs kept his foot planted on the gas pedal, and stretched as many kinks as he could out of his arms and back. The orange and purple sky, the black road, and the khaki mountains in the distance was all Gavs could see. Until he saw a black dot in the distance. It’s another car. Maybe if I focus on it and the shrubs I can keep myself awake. The black dot grew in the road. It darted off the road and vanished. Gavs shook his head. A new black dot appeared in the distance. It was large in the road, but still just a blob. Then it vanished. Gavs slapped his face and aimed the AC vent at his face. Gavs looked to the bushes on the side of the road, and saw shoulders. They flowed in the little shadows of the shrubs and stones. Then they were on the road. Gavs twisted the steering wheel. He hit the brakes and punched the tall shifter with a soccer ball head. Eyes wide. Short sharp breaths with every whip of the wheel. Gavs body whipped inside the cabin. He screamed. The tractor and its trailer bounced on their tires and turned over. Screeches, sparks, and smoke rocketed out from the engine bay of the flat faced tractor. Soon the entire vehicle was engulfed in flames. The cargo of food stuffs spilled onto the road and caught fire with the runaway diesel. As the sun descended in the sky, lights flashed and sirens roared in the distance. An officer of the Viriarma flew down the road and shouted into his radio, “I have a vehicle fire on state route 15 outside Antonville, requesting a highway fire unit. It looks like a tractor trailer just overturned.” --- Peritus Leon Boulanger stood beside his interceptor car, watching from a distance as the tractor and trailer became an inferno. Leon cleaned off his narrow nose, and took sand out from the sides of his squinted eyes. Dux Princeps Marcelle Cordonnier joined him. The old chief snorted with his large nose, and waved a cigarette by his large, gray mustache before lighting it. “Don’t say it,” Leon said, before taking off his hat to wipe the sweat from his forehead. “There is nothing that we can see from here that would cause a crash,” Marcelle said. “It has to be the chienoir.” Marcelle looked over at Leon. “That’s a xenoxeno myth,” Leon said. “You listen to too many fairy tales.” Leon fastened his hat to his head. “This is no fairy tale, Leon,” Marcelle said with a blank stare. “The chienoir is real. I’ve seen one myself. I would never wish it on my worst enemy.” A fire engine came to a halt nearby with only its lights flashing. Fire fighters jumped out and gathered together. “Write down what you can,” Marcelle said. “Get some cones from the shack and tape it off. I have to email High Crimes so they can send an Auto Repertor. Three crashes in only a couple days is going to raise some red flags, especially a food truck like this one.” Leon started walking towards his patrol interceptor and opened the door. “I’m coming in tomorrow, right?” Leon said. Marcelle stopped in his tracks. “Yes, Nauta’s surgery was just cleared,” Marcelle said. “Hopefully the poor bastard’s shoulder will be back to normal. If not, then we’re going to be pulling long days again.” “I’ll say a prayer for him,” Leon said. “See you then.” Marcelle entered the command car and drove off at high speed. Leon got into his interceptor and began typing on the laptop planted where the car radio would be. Leon looked up from his laptop towards the blaze. Firefighters got to work cutting away nearby brush, and hitting burning cardboard boxes with foam. A figure stood behind them. A dog, with its head held high. Leon blinked. The dog vanished. He looked back at his laptop and continued typing, shielding the road from sight using his hat. Nalibia, Federation of Inner Ryxtylopia, Giovanniland and 1 other 4 Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Nouveau Posted October 8 Author Share Posted October 8 Part 2 Leon sat in his interceptor and stared at the sands and the road, wide brimmed hat tilted down, reclined in his seat. No cars. Not even a passing plane. Leon looked down at the coffee cup in the seat divider. He brought it to his lips. He tasted air. He took off the cap and planted it deep in the cup. A buzz came over the radio set. “Any available units, respond to a call of dangerous wildlife at the 101 Rue des Bosquet. Described as multiple dogs at the northern edge of the property.” “105 responding, show me in route,” Leon said. He put on only his lights, and fixed his hat. Leon took a left down a long, desolate road, with a small dot of a house far down it. A shape moved in the sand. Leon looked to where it was, and slapped open the lock on the shotgun holder beside his seat. “105 is approaching 101 Rue des Bosquets, consider me on scene now,” Leon said. He came to a stop in front of the house. A short, one story farm house stood in the sand. The sandstone walls and slate roof nearly blended into the mountains far behind it. Leon stepped out of the interceptor with his shotgun in hand. “Be careful!” an old woman shouted from within the house. “Goede!” Leon said, “Is Jan with you?” “No, it’s just me and my shotgun,” Goede Sterk said. “But two shotguns is better than one.” “Have you seen the dogs move anywhere?” Leon said. He brought up his shotgun and stepped closer to the house. “Close to the road,” Goede said. “Come inside! We can shoot them from here.” “I’ll be on the porch,” Leon said. He came around the house, watching the sand and the distance. The shotgun held high, but not in line with his eye. “You ever use that gun, Goede?” Leon asked as he came to a backdoor. “On Jan,” Goede said. “You know how some men are. They think a little ass is a great snack for the road. But bring a harlot to my home, oooohhhh I could’ve plastered him on the wall, and I wouldn’t repent!” “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that last part,” Leon said. A laugh boomed within the house. “Don’t worry, I won’t kill him when you’re on duty,” Goede said. Leon shook his head and knelt down by the backdoor. “What happened to your friend?” Goede asked. “Friend… Nauta, he is on leave,” Leon said. “He was hurt while responding to a call with me.” “Oh right, that joyriding punk in the stolen truck,” Goede said. “I heard he had a gun.” “He did, yeah,” Leon said under his breath. “Do you see anything?” “No, I. What was that? OH LORD---!” A yell came from the house. A boom echoed out from it, cracking in Leon’s ear. “Goede!” Leon yelled. He turned around and grabbed the door handle. “Goede are you alright!?” Leon looked to a window right next to the door. He butted the window with his shotgun. Glass snapped and crashed to the ground. Leon cleared the remaining glass with the gun barrel. He reached inside and turned the lock to the door. He yanked the door open. He looked around the dark room, and saw Goede. He vomited and leaned against the door frame. An enormous splash of blood covered the front door. Goede’s headless corpse spasmed on the floor. --- Marcelle and Leon stood at the front door to the house. The interceptor and the command cars parked in front of the house, and a white van at the side. Camera flashes lit up the windows every couple of minutes. “Leon,” Marcelle said. He threw a stump of a cigarette to the ground. “Goede was a sane woman.” “I didn’t see a damn dog!” Leon said. Marcelle took off his hat and stared into Leon’s eyes. “But did you see something?” Marcelle said. The two men faced each other with a cold to their eyes. Leon licked his dried lips. “No,” Leon said before turning away. Marcelle put his hat on. “If you’re hiding something from me, the gods will have a field day with your corpse,” Marcelle said. Leon turned back to Marcelle. “I didn’t shoot that woman!” Leon said. “I never said you did, boy,” Marcelle said with a sideways glance. Leon looked over Marcelle’s shoulder, and saw shoulders dance in the sand. Marcelle turned his head to the desert, and then turned back to Leon. Marcelle shook his head and retrieved a cigarette from the breast pocket of his khaki uniform. “How are you so sure it’s a chienoir?” Leon asked. Marcelle looked up from his cigarette, with his unlit lighter held close to it. “Come to The Longhouse on the main road after sundown,” Marcelle said. “Bring your gun.” Marcelle lit his cigarette and walked towards the command car. Leon looked at the house and let out a loud sigh before walking to his interceptor. Zoran, Federation of Inner Ryxtylopia and Giovanniland 3 Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Nouveau Posted October 8 Author Share Posted October 8 Part 3 Darkness consumed the landscape, except for the few streetlights in the center of town, and The Longhouse on the main road. The all purpose trucking oasis and gas station at the edge of town was well lit, with a wide neon sign on a tall steel pole. In a corner of the large lot, away from the resting trucks, was Leon leaning on his sedan. Leon zipped up his coat and kept his hands in his pockets. An old white truck with chipped paint slowly came into the parking area. It slowed down near Leon and the window rolled down. “Stay close to my tail, we’ll have our lights back on when we hit Rue de la Fête.” Leon got in his car and followed Marcelle out of The Longhouse parking lot, down a packed dirt service road, and towards the desert. Stars and mountain tops were the only visible entities. The moon was asleep as well. Leon drove, watching the white pickup as it rumbled over stones, and unpacked earth. Leon backed away from Marcelle’s car. Leon’s windows were kept down in the hopes of hearing something from Marcelle, but all he got were diesel fumes. Marcelle turned on his car’s lights, and Leon did too. Leon looked to see a small box on a wooden pole. When they drew within a stone’s throw of the mailbox they both stopped and turned off their cars. Marcelle and Leon got out of their cars and walked on the sand. Marcelle held up a hand. He crept forward, and came to stairs in the earth. They both descended the stone steps and came to a wood door. “Quies,” Marcelle said. “It’s Marcelle.” An old metal lock turned, and the door opened. A woman with dark hair and tanned skin opened the door. She was adorned in many beads, bracelets, and a gold chain. Her hair was half concealed in a thin skull-wrap. “I smell death,” Quies said. The door began to close until Marcelle’s boot stuck in the doorway. “You don’t want to hear what I have to say.” “I’m here because you’re all I have left,” Marcelle said. Quies let out a short sigh and opened the door. Leon and Marcelle walked in and sat at a small table in the dim kitchen. Quies sat opposite from them. “I know you two are in deep trouble,” Quies said. “I can sense it from the water of the spirits. Five people too many have died. Black dogs are in every shadow, every rise and fall in the land.” “We know. We’ve seen them.” Marcelle said. Leon raised his hand, but Marcelle raised his quicker. “What do we do now?” Leon shook his head. “I can’t tell you,” Quies said. Marcelle grabbed Quies’ hands as tears grew in her eyes. Footsteps echoed above their heads. Leon rose to his feet, with his pistol held high. Marcelle and Quies sat together at the table. “One by one,” Quies mumbled. Snarls crept in through the walls, and heavy breaths chilled Leon’s spine. “Until they’re satisfied.” “I remember, one must make amends, so to speak,” Marcelle said. Quies looked up. “It’s a price you cannot pay,” Quies said. Marcelle drew closer and hugged Quies. He let out a short chuckle. “Maybe if I had listened to you and we ran away,” Marcelle said. “We’d be happy in Saint Mark. Eating pickled plum.” Marcelle gave a small laugh. Quies did too, through tears. “We were kids. Breaking the law always sounds fun. But disappointing our parents wasn’t an option,” Quies said. “Maybe it’s fate that we would be here like this.” “Am I losing my mind!?” Leon yelled as we walked towards the door and aimed his pistol at it. Marcelle let go of Quies. “Go to Felix,” Quies said. “Beg and pray. That is all you can do. Maybe they will have mercy, but I’ve never seen it.” Marcelle leaned over the table and gave a kiss to Quies’ forehead. “This may be goodbye. I hope to see you in the waves of the sky, caros.” “I hope to see you there too,” Marcelle said. He turned on his heel and rose up. “We have to get to Monture d’Or.” Marcelle drew his pistol from his pocket and leapt to the front door. Marcelle and Leon gave each other a quick nod. Marcelle threw open the door. Both men came out the door with guns drawn. They hurried up the stairs and to their vehicles. They turned them on and began to fly towards the road. Leon drove with his shoulders high and his windows rolled up. Shoulders and snouts and fangs faded in and out of the darkness. A snarl or a bark would catch his ear and he’d twitch to one side. Figures in the distance would disappear, only reappear at a moment’s notice. The two men followed the dark road, and headed towards the small outpost in the darkness. Monture d’Or. A free, public hospital in disrepair. Only one floor tall with a couple dim lights illuminating the brick walled building. It somehow didn’t grow brighter as the two cars approached it. Marcelle and Leon screeched their cars into the parking lot, and jumped out of them. They ran through the front door, howls and the gnashing of teeth on their heels. The waiting room had a few short metal benches, and a wide desk at the other end. Marcelle and Leon came up to the desk, and a heavy set man looked up at them. “We’re with the Viriarma,” Marcelle said. “We need-” the nurse spoke up. “Thank the gods you’re here,” the nurse said. “Maybe you can shoot some of those wild dogs out there. They’ve been driving me nuts.” Marcelle leaned over the table. “Where is Felix Nauta?” Marcelle said. The nurse’s eyes widened. “He’s down that hallway to the right,” the nurse said. “110.” Marcelle and Leon ran down the hallway with guns drawn. Past stained linoleum and dingy walls. Around the corner, and to the only partly lit room. Marcelle and Leon entered the room to Felix. He was covered in a bedsheet from his hips down. An IV in his arm, and a heart monitor on his finger. “I didn’t think I’d see you two here,” Felix said. He coughed and his heart rate spiked for a moment. Marcelle grabbed the seat by the door, and brought it closer. “Let’s say, some circumstances brought us here,” Marcelle said. Felix laughed. “Circumstances,” Felix said. He shook his head and relaxed his body. Felix pointed at Leon, who stood by the door. “Who needs enemies when you have friends like these, right?” Felix coughed again, and Marcelle looked away. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” Leon said. “I was just trying to stop that jackass.” Felix slammed his fist, and the beeps of his monitor jumped up. “And you covered it up,” Felix said, pointing to Marcelle. “You put ‘not service related’ on my report. Because you coded it like that, my health insurance won’t cover the full cost. I’ll be paying debts for this surgery for years. I don’t even know if they’ll let me serve again.” Marcelle let out a deep sigh. He looked up at Felix. “I couldn’t lose two peritus in one go,” Marcelle said. “I couldn’t.” “You could’ve said it was the guy’s gun. Or hell, that it was a piece of the truck from yanking him out that rust bucket,” Felix said. “No, you just wanted it under the rug. The funniest thing.” Felix pointed at Marcelle. “They couldn’t get the fragment out. Now there’s a piece of copper a hair away from my heart, and one day it could breach it. I’m fucked!” Felix laid back in his bed and stared at the ceiling. Marcelle clasped his hands together. “For the sake of the town,” Marcelle said. “The people. Your family, our families. Would you forgive us?” Felix looked over at Marcelle. “Are you even sorry for what you did?” Felix asked. Leon looked over for a moment. “I had to shoot him,” Leon said. “I did what I had to do. He was gonna kick your ass.” “There’s your answer, Dux Princeps,” Felix said. “You deserve everything that’s coming to you. Everything. Get out of my room.” Felix relaxed on the bed and turned his head away. Marcelle balled up his fist and inhaled deep into his lungs. He stood up. His eyes were planted on Leon, who gave back an expressionless stare. Marcelle walked towards the door with his eyes relaxed. Leon followed Marcelle down the hallway. They came out of the lobby and to the front of the hospital. Marcelle lit up a cigarette once again. Leon turned to Marcelle. “What is a chienoir?” Leon asked. Marcelle shook his head. “The Danav people tell stories of these dogs from long ago,” Marcelle said. “If a member of a group betrayed someone, and left them to die in the wilderness, the spirit of the air would guard their soul. But dogs would come to feast on those who betrayed them. Some say it’s a folk story to stop wickedness. If you betray your brother the chienoir would come for you.” “But, if those dogs in the road, or in Goede’s house are real,” Leon said. He cut himself short. “I told you it was no fairytale, boy,” Marcelle said. “They’re surrounding us right now! You couldn’t even repent for a moment to save your skin! Now the dogs will never leave. They will eat us.” Marcelle threw down his cigarette in anger. “So what now?” Leon said. Marcelle started walking to his car. “Say your last prayers, and die quickly,” Marcelle said. “Go into the wilderness, and let the dogs consume you. That is all that is left for us.” Marcelle began to walk. “Where are you going?!” Leon shouted with a hoarse voice. Marcelle stopped and turned back. “I’m going to my beloved,” Marcelle said. “To truly say goodbye one last time. That’s if I even make it. I’d be cautious if I were driving far. Their presence tends to make people sleepy when they’re traveling far. Just go home and say goodbye.” “I’m not doing that shit!” Leon shouted. “I’m getting out of here!” Leon ran for his car and jumped inside. He slammed the door. Marcelle watched in awe as Leon’s car sped away. Marcelle got in his truck and opened a brick-like laptop. The laptop had a page open. It was an incident form. Marcelle dragged the document to an email draft, and began typing. To Hoog Department Viriarma Human Resources, My apologies for the late email, but I need a change order for incident report DH14140815 Attachment F, regarding Peritus Felix Nauta. In previous documentation, I listed Peritus Nauta’s injury as not being directly related to service. However, after further investigation, myself and office staff determined the injury was sustained during service. Please adjust this report accordingly, and forward updated documentation to Peritus Nauta. Sincerely, Dux Princeps Marcelle Cordonnier Officer-in-Charge of Antonville-Hercus Zone Marcelle hit send on the email, and closed the laptop with a quiet sigh. He began to babble to himself as he turned the truck on, “Forgive a fool like me, gods above. I put myself above others, when people who’ve built me up in my life have done the opposite. I know my sins are many, and deep. I’ve held secrets, killed honest men, and betrayed my very unit. In fact, you know the sins I’ve done and I’ve forgotten. The wolves are coming closer now. I’m sure they won’t miss their man. If it really is my time to go, make it quick. I’ve seen death, and know it is usually painful. Spare me, maybe, this one time.” Before Marcelle could comprehend how far he had driven, he came to the mailbox in oblivion. The faint sound of breathing, and shuffling sand surrounded Marcelle. He got out of the truck, and went down the stairs. He knocked. “Caros,” Quies said. Marcelle stepped in and set down his gun on the small kitchen table. “I don’t think I’ll be alive tomorrow,” Marcelle said. “I’ll leave your door, and the dogs will take me. I want to spend one more night with you before I am gone.” “Then rest,” Quies said. “Let me hold you.” Quies and Marcelle slipped into bed. Marcelle clutched Quies and attempted to hide his tears, yet Quies could see them. She rubbed his scalp, and whispered over him. The low gurgle and panting of dogs circled the house. As Quies outed a small candle, she wiped away her own tears. --- Leon screamed into the air. His throat was torn apart by his voice. The arrow for his gas tank drew further and further down. Every gas station, interchange, and rest area was more deserted than the last. The engine’s roar shrunk to a whimper. The howls of the damned clawing at Leon’s mind. The engine fell silent, and the car began to roll. Leon kept the car on the road, but it slowed until all of its momentum had waned away. Leon jumped out of the car, pistol in hand. “You want me!? Have me, god damn, come on!” He shot at the darkness. The forms twisting around each bullet, and yet remained whole. Shoulders of great beasts circled Leon. He held up his pistol, and yanked out the empty magazine. As he reached for another, teeth bared down on his forearm. He yelled, and threw his arm to one side, sending the pistol in the sands. Leon yelled once more before he fell down, voice cracking and tears streaming down his face. Teeth and fur engulfed him. The keepers of the night made a meal of the man. Cracking bone, and twisting flesh until only shards remained. --- Marcelle woke up in darkness. He gasped, and looked over to Quies, who was fast asleep in an upright position. Marcelle climbed out of bed. He grabbed his pistol from the kitchen table, not breaking his stride to the door. He opened the door, and stepped outside. Marcelle went up the stairs to the mailbox. He looked out at the desert sand. A black dog stood in the distance. For a moment, the two seemed locked together. Marcelle squinted in the morning sun. The dog stood still. The dog turned into the wind and vanished. Marcelle fell to his knees. He threw the gun into the wind before he fell onto his side to cry tears in the sand. They would dry up as quickly as they fell. Zoran, Giovanniland and Federation of Inner Ryxtylopia 3 Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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