What LURKS in the DARK
What LURKS in the DARK
Author: Darken Ross
CHAPTER 1

THE LOUD HOWL resounded in the night sky. Wings fluttered and birds flew away, leaving their nest.

There was another loud sound. But this was not the sound of a howl, this was a booming sound, closely followed by a crunch-crunch double mechanism. That sound could only be heard from a sawn off shotgun.

More booms filled the air.

Then a loud roar, screams of men, and the sound of rustling leaves and broken branches filled the air.

More booms and the crunching sound of more cases filled into the gun's barrel.

Gunsmoke and gunpowder hung heavy in the air as more guns blasted.

Suddenly, everywhere turned quiet. The silence was heavy. There was a rough, guttural breathing in the darkness. It sounded like that of an animal.

Two red dots blinked in the darkness, from the direction the breathing was coming from.

The smoke cleared a bit to reveal a group of worn-out, tired men bunched together. Their eyes were wide with fear and adrenaline as they looked around.

Some of them had round brass helmets on their heads, but all of them held ancient shotguns gripped in their hands.

"What is it?" One of the younger men whispered to his older companion beside him.

"Shhh!" The older one snapped. "It can hear you from 10 leagues away."

"What?"

The older man was their leader. He made a sign with his hand and the men moved forward cautiously.

Even though they all knew that the creature could hear them from a mile out, they still tried to be quiet and walk on their toes. It made them feel like they had a higher chance of defeating this creature.

The younger man crept forward to meet the leader, "But what is it?" He whispered again.

"It is a creature from the depth of hell," The old man muttered. Men around them made signs of the cross across their shoulders.

"It is the devil embodied," The old man continued.

"So why did God allow it to escape hell?" The younger man asked again.

"Constantine, shut it!" The old man snapped.

"I didn't mean to –"

"I said shhhh!" The old man whispered again and stopped. The man stopped too.

The old man crouched and squinted his eyes. Then he pointed forward.

The younger man, Constantine, peered intently at where the leader pointed to, but he didn't see anything.

"It's weakened!" The old man yelled. "Fire! Let's take that devil down!"

There were booms and flared from shotguns. Leaves ripped as the bullet shells flew through them.

There was another loud roar and then a heavy thump as a heavy body fell.

"We need to chain it down!" The leader yelled at his men. Some men stepped forward shakily, a thick silver mail chain was wrapped around their necks.

"I'll go," Constantine volunteered.

The leader looked at the young man. "Are you sure? You have a wife and son at home. Do not die."

Constantine chuckled. He dropped his shotgun on the floor and collected the heavy chains from the men.

"What are you doing?" The leader asked, eyeing the shotgun on the floor.

"I can't carry the gun and the chains at the same time," Constantine grunted, staggering under the weight of the chains. "Besides, I have my knife in my ankle and revolver at my waist."

"Remember. Don't die." The old leader called as Constantine started a steady run into the dark.

Leaves and branches slapped at Constantine's face as he ran forward. He stopped and listened for any sound.

There was none.

The forest was completely silent. No birds. No cricket. No buzzing from night insects. The woods were eerily silent.

He turned and saw the faint flame torches held by his comrades. They were far behind.

He took a deep breath and forged ahead, stepping over some fallen logs and whole trees.

He knew he was getting close. From what the leader had told him and the rumor that was going about in the village, this creature could uproot and fall trees on its own.

Constantine slowed down and walked carefully. He saw large slash marks on the trunks of trees.

Suddenly he felt like he was being watched. He looked around but he could not see anything except the silhouette and shadows of trees that seemed to morph into different shapes.

Constantine muttered some prayers as he moved ahead slowly. Then he heard it.

Labored breathing. It was coming from just a few yards ahead.

Constantine made the sign of the cross and crept forward.

He climbed over the thick trunk to see the creature. The devil from the pit of hell slumped on the floor.

This was a creature that on a good day, would look beautiful. It looked like a mixture of a wolf and a man. Stretching at over 8 feet long, thick black fur covered its whole body.

The fur was matted down with flowing blood and flesh had been blasted open from some parts of its body, exposing bones and internal organs.

Some part of Constantine immediately felt pity but then the creature raised its face and pinned its blood-red eyes on Constantine who shrieked and flung the mail chain with all his might.

The chains fell on the creature who howled in pain and bucked around with renewed strength but for some reason could not throw off the silver chain mail.

Constantine hurried to work. He picked up a heavy stone from the floor and went around the edges of the chain mail where some huge nail-like objects had been forged. He hammered each edge deep into the ground.

"I HAVE IT CHAINED!" He yelled into the night and a few moments later, his comrades flooded the place and surrounded the creature.

His old leader placed a hand on his shoulder. "You did well Constantine," He said. He spat on the still-struggling creature in the chain. He raised his voice and said to all his surviving men, "Look! Look at the devil! The devil that had plagued our villages for centuries. The devil that hunted and stole away your wives and daughters. We have done what our ancestors could not!" He said. "We have conquered it!"

The men cheered.

"Now, we will bury it on this remote island and leave its carcass to return to where it came from. Hell!"

The men cheered again even louder.

There was a flurry of activities as the men set about mixing sand, cement, and water to make a thick paste, which they heaped on the creature. Burying it alive.

Constantine stood aside, looking as if the cement was being piled upon the chain mail. Just before the last surface was covered, he saw the red eyes turn in his direction and felt like it was staring into his soul.

He shivered even though the night was warm.

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