Before Dawn
July 10, 2:05pm
The summer wind blow
across the street, anger built in his muscles, sadness crashed his heart. John
leiver crumbled the already tattered newspaper in his hands, the paper that
told him the horrible news about his brother. John stormed into the Raccoon
police department, marching up to the front desk. He slammed his fist down on
the oak wood, the noise echoing high to the ceiling. " Can I help you, sir?" the desk clerk asked, her nervousness
slipping out of her mouth, rolling softly off her lips. " I want to ask you a
question? Why haven't you done anything about these murders that are going on.
Day after day it's some one else that is eaten or mauled by some inhuman
bastards." John screams, saliva coming off his lips as he spits out the heinous
words. The desk clerk stands up to attention, shrugging off his harsh words. "
Sir, we, the police force are doing everything in our power to help put this to
an end. We feel your pain, but we need more information before we set out." The
young woman speaks. John balled his
fist and slammed his fist down again, the pounding sound echoing across the
empty walls. John storms out, the door
smashes hard as he leaves, his anger jumping around his tense body. The summer
wind came back to him, coursing along his broad shoulders, almost as if it was
playing with him. John walked down the active street; he knew that his brother
was still alive.
The ceiling fan turned,
the light wind cooling off the small apartment. John sat at his dinning room
table, a sheet of dust covering the fine wood. John sat, memories of his little
brother going through his head, the times they had as kids. The summer months
they had together, the two of them being there for each other. John's mind
churned and stumbled over the images he still had of Tim, his mind holding on
to them, not wanting to let them go. School time rolled around, john could
remember helping Tim get to school, the fun times they had when they were
there. The memories swarmed John's mind, attacking his emotions, testing them
to the fullest. John broke, tears forming in the sides of his eyes, sliding
carelessly down his face. His strong emotions scattered to pieces, cascading
down his face. Sadness, anger, and guilt, all filling his head with defeating
affects on his emotions. All mixing and combining into one monster, forming
right inside his head. John screamed out, not able to take the strain anymore,
he screamed out for his brother to come back.
John walked down the
cold, lone street. His emotions still high from the other day. He slides his hands into the side pockets of
the brown leather jacket. Trying to hide his hands from the sudden cold that
rushed up on him from behind. John stopped, placing his hands on roadblock that
held him from getting into the forest. He looked across the dark mountain road,
shadows dancing around the woods, casting imagines on the black asphalt. The
forest seemed even darker than it was last night when he visited it. In the
moonlight the trees seem to form into grueling figures, threaten and looming
over John. He sat, grasping the wooded
post of the roadblock. The one they just put up after they confirmed his little
brother was missing. The police didn't even tell him, his only brother that he
was alive or dead, only missing. John cursed them; they were nothing, useless
to this town. The only thing they did
to contain this was this damn roadblock, nothing more. Tears begin to form once again as the images
of Tim came back to John.
John awoken, the
reoccurring nightmare still hung fresh in his head. The sweat still sticky and
dewy as it slowly dripped off his body. John rubbed his hand through his coarse
brown hair, the sweat matting it down to his head. John rose, groggy and disoriented, walking over to the kitchen
for a glass of water. John grabbed a clean glass from the cabinet cleaning off
the light traces of dirt. He turned on the faucet, the running water coming to
him as a new sound. The cold water went down easy, the heat disappearing from
his body as the water makes its way down. John turned towards the clock,
looking at the glowing red numbers. In the blur he made out the numbers,
reading 12:34 in the darkness. John finished the glass of water, and set the
empty glass in the sink. John went back to his room, climbing under the covers
once again. His mind going back into submission, his head swimming in his own
guilt once again, he had to do something about it.
John wakens from the
deep sleep, crust forming heavily along his eyes. He stood up from his bed,
looking around the room, seeing the dim orange light of the sun coming through
the window. Sleepily he turned to the clock, once again seeing the red numbers,
this time they read 6:07PM. He had slept twenty hours; the stress was making
him weak. He rose from the bed, rubbing his hair lightly, trying to rub off the
sleep. Night would come soon; he had to act fast if he was going to do
anything. He got dress, and grabbed his
lucky brown lather jacket and slipped in it on. He grabbed his flashlight from under the sink, turning it on,
checking if it still worked. He shined it over the kitchen, illuminating it in
a white light. John left his house leaving it behind, and headed towards the
mountain road once again to found his beloved brother.
John pushed the orange
and white roadblock side, stepping into the Arklay Mountains, the place where his brother
lays. John turned on the flashlight the
beam of light shining over the dark trees, casting the mysterious shadows once
again. John looked to the moon, one last time before he entered, its shape full
and bright. He sighed and he went into the forest. He left the safety of the
road and stepped into the woodland, his boots breaking twigs as he lightly
steps through it. The forest was quiet; the only sounds were that of John's.
Distant howling breaks the cold, still air; the sounds roll off his back as if
they weren't there. John made his way through the thick trees, searching with
his sorrow filled eyes, not seeing anything but trees and the blowing tall
grass. Wind whipped around the tree trunks, acting like children playing hide
and go seek as it run between the trees, picking up loose leaves from the
ground as it went. John watched ahead of him, seeing the opening of the trees
break into a clear of tall grass that swayed side to side as the wind tipped
the top of it. The wind shifted, bringing along new and strange smells. The sour smell of decay wafted in the air,
taking over the sweet, fresh, mountain air. John smelled it, not knowing what
it really was. John's eyes grow tired, slowly filling with sleep. He lays his
backpack on the ground, and grabs lose twigs from around the area. He places
them in a ring and takes out his golden lighter. The flame flicks, almost like
its alive. The fire slowly moves along the twigs forming into a bigger fire.
John slips into his sleeping bag, wanted to go to sleep as fast as he
could. His mind goes blank and he falls
deep into the hands of sleep.
Breaking sticks echo through the clearing.
John raises looking around, thinking that it's the burning fire next to him. He
slumps back down, trying his best to fall back asleep. Eerie moans, dead and in
human, float around the clearing, riding the wind so gentle. John rose up
quickly, searching around the ground for his flashlight. The moans came closer,
louder than before. Rustling, the sound
came into the blend of the night noises. John know whatever it was, it was
getting closer to him. His hand grabbed around the cold plastic of the
flashlight, the bright beam exploded out, showing the dark forest for what it
truly was. He scanned the area, not seeing anything around, a cold hand rest on
John's shoulder. Fright and panic ran wild in his body, slamming him down to
the ground. A wet mouth wrapped around John's neck, biting into his soft flesh.
John cringed, as the rush of pain hit him. He jumped to his feet, turning
around, the light from the flashlight blazing bright. The flashlight jumps from
his hand before it could show what stood in front of him. Another set of hands
grabbed him from behind, moaning and groaning its hunger for him. John shoved
it away and run, the groans of hunger growing louder. The forest came alive,
screaming for his flesh. " What the hell is happening?" The words race through
John's already confused head. He stopped in his tracks, trying to figure out
which way he was going to go. More hands touched the back of his neck, cold, no
human feeling to them. John swat at them, but the hands grew in number, and by
the time he opened his eyes he was on the ground, them on top of him. Pain tore
through his body like a knife; wounds appeared all of his body. John know he
was dead, there was no way he could get away. He turned his head up and saw the
cold dead eyes of his brother.
