Legend's Writings

A place for me to just write stories and such. Daily prompts will be most of what shows up here, though other content will be posted. Comments and critique welcome and encouraged. Story suggestions will be read and possibly used in the future with thanks to suggester, if non-anon. If asking about/commenting on/critiquing a story, mention the date it was posted, please. Story postings will be mentioned on Twitter in advance. Enjoy!

[zombievildhund]

Experiment: “Guns”

A quick little experiment on plot pacing and research...

There was a soft clicking echoing in the hallway as a pair of fox paws walked its length. The tile floors and concrete walls did little to soften the resounding tic-tic-tic as the fox continued on his journey towards the steel door at the end of the hall.

A loud CLANG rang through the once-empty room as the steel door fell back into its resting position. The fox winced softly at the grating sound as he was taking off his blazer, tossing it onto a nearby chair, metal-rimmed buttons connecting with the steel to create small tings as the coat folded over the back haphazardly. Before the blazer had hit the chair, the fox was already rolling up the cuffs of his shirt, the folded fabric staying put just below his elbows. The fox’s head shook a bit as the tie that had been around his neck was loosened and the constricting top button of the shirt was undone. A relieved sigh broke the silence, a deep breath following in its path.

There was a small clatter as the previously untouched rifle left the top of the table, coming to rest in the fox’s paws. Big, hazel eyes inspected the common firearm, the title AR-15 stamped into the metal receiver. The bolt was opened, cleared, and closed in a matter of seconds before the magazine was released. Another sigh. Eyes darted around the room, ending their movement at the table. 5.56mm the box read, the cartridges visible as the top of the box had been ripped open, likely without care by the looks of it.

A new sound filled the room, that of magazines being filled, six if anyone had been counting. As the final magazine was topped off, it wasn’t set onto the table like the others. Rather, it found it’s way back into the rifle. The rest of the magazines were slipped between the fox’s belt and pants, ready for later use. The lucky magazine that had been put into the gun lost a cartridge as it was chambered into the rifle, a quick, pleasing symphony of clicks and slides as the cartridge was forced into its new, temporary home.

The fox looked across the room to the only other door: another steel barrier, but this door was banged up so bad, one could only imagine what might have caused it. A discordant groaning slipped through the spaces between the door and its frame, the hinges failing at their job to hold the steel in its intended position.

Deep breaths. Tic-tacking of nails on tile. A lung-filling breath. A large THUD against steel. A massive grunt from exertion of force. Hinges breaking. Steel hitting ground. Heads turning. Dust settling. Loud groaning.

The stock flew into the fox’s shoulder, eyes focusing down the sights that protruded above the barrel. A soft click went unrecognized as the safety was disengaged. One more breath in, this time held as his focus solidified. Another click, this time coming from the complete pull of the rifle’s trigger. The firing pin slammed into the cartridge’s primer, the following combustion of the lead styphnate igniting the gunpowder. The bullet met the air, slamming full force into the head of the reanimated office intern. As the body hit the floor, the fox’s shoulder took the resulting recoil, the casing from the spent cartridge falling past it. Another cartridge was chambered, the bolt was shut, and the barrel was pointed towards the next groaning, undead victim.

[zombievildhund]

Return from Hiatus

Sorry for the loud introduction there, it’s just that I haven’t posted a story here since JULY 17th! Let me break that down for you. It’s been:

8 months and 18 days

37 weeks and 3 days

262 days

186 weekdays

or...

0.72 years

since I have written anything. Go me.

Anyway, I DO plan on getting back to writing stories. Maybe not as frequently, but definitely a couple a month (that’s my goal anyway). To those who have stuck around: thanks so much! Your dedication means so much to me.

And to the new people: welcome! I hope you enjoy my stories, and if you have any suggestions, questions, or constructive criticisms, send them to me in the appropriately labeled tab at the top of my blog.

Glad to be back guys!

[zombievildhund]

July 17, 2015

“Crime interrogation”

Thanks to medidarius for acting this out with me for authenticity

The panther walked into the room to see his next detainee. Shutting the door behind him, he made a sideways glance to the one-way glass, nodding to whomever was standing back there. The wolf sitting at the table watched him, a disturbingly calm expression painted on his face. The panther pulled out a chair, “Alright, Dexter. I’m Detective Walters,” he said, pointing to his name tag on his uniform. “Before we get started, anything you want. Temperature change, cigarette?” The wolf looked to him, “No, thanks. I used to smoke, but I quit a while ago.” Det. Walters nodded, opening up Dexter’s file.

“So, Dexter. The evening of November 28th: where were you, and what were you doing?” The panther leaned back a bit in his chair, already knowing the answer, of course. The wolf clasped his hands together as he spoke, “Before I begin, Walters, you’re gonna need some backstory here. To understand where I’m coming from here, at least. It all starts with my girlfriend. I confronted her about cheating on me when I caught her in the act a while back. I demanded a name, but I wasn’t given a response, naturally. She didn’t want the guy hurt. I have my ways, though, so when I got a name from my sources, I got an address. So I drive on over to this guy’s house. I sneak up to the front window to see what’s going on inside. This is where I "black out”, for lack of a better term. Sitting in front of the TV was this man and my girl. Only, they’re not just sitting there. They were fucking right there on the couch. I get back to my car and open the trunk looking for a weapon, and all I find is my baseball bat.” Dexter stops, waving his hand, “I play baseball with the guys every so often, didn’t bring it along just for him. Anyway, I grab the bat and walk up to the house. The door is unlocked, another mistake made by this scumbag. I yell at the guy, asking what the fuck he’s doing? He stands up, moving towards me. This guy just keeps on making mistakes, though I correct this one with a crack of the bat to his head. He hits the ground, dazed. Meanwhile, my girlfriend’s crying, screaming at me, asking what I’m doing. Asking me not to hurt him. Too late for that, though; this guy wasn’t coming out of this alive. He moves, surprisingly, so I take another swing at him, this one to his side. He reels in pain, curling up on his side. I’m not done. This guy is going to suffer for what he’s done to me. I start swinging at his legs, breaking them in the process. My bat breaks, but this doesn’t stop me or my “rampage”. I take the sharp end and stick him in the side, drawing a massive amount of blood, quickly. This is where my girlfriend tries to intervene. I keep her at bay, “Shut the hell up, or I’ll do same to you! You’re LUCKY it’s not you.” At the time, as I looked upon the bloody mess, it seemed right. Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth.” “Now that I’m sitting here,” Dexter leans back in his chair, looking around, ”I look back and realize it was a mistake. My anger took over, but the motherfucker got what was coming to him. It’s not like my girlfriend was the first though. This guy got around, swooping up other men’s girlfriends. I was the first to act out though, avenging my fellow man. If you want me to apologize, I have one word: no. But, I AM sorry he wasn’t alive longer. I really wanted to continue beating on him.

Det. Walters nodded, the panther leaning forward to rest his arms on the table, “At any point, did the man fight back?” Dexter chuckled, shaking his head softly, “He screamed at me when I walked in. Threatened me. That was a very big mistake on his part. No one threatens me, so I had to take care of him. Especially since it was something like this. Like I said, he got what was coming to him.” The wolf looked up to the detective, shrugging, “But anything physical? He never fucking touched me.”

The panther opened his mouth to speak before Dexter spoke up, “Could I get that cigarette now?” The panther paused for a second, before setting the folder down. The detective reached into the pocket of his blazer, pulling out a pack. He packed them in his hand, holding out the open package for the wolf, lighting it as he put it in his mouth.

Det. Walters put the cigarettes back in his pocket, thinking of a way to cross-question Dexter as he picked the folder up. “What’d you say was going on when you walked in?” “They were just there on the couch, fucking away as a chick flick or something was up on the TV,” answered the wolf. “Alright. And what was your girlfriend doing during all this, Dexter?” Dexter laughed to himself, “Being the bitch she is, she didn’t do shit. She stood there crying and screaming, begging me to stop. I screamed back at her of course, she was the one at fault here.”

The panther stood up, pacing around the room as he asked his final question: “What happened after the attack?” Dexter thought for a second before replying, “I kind of just stood there staring. While I did this, my girlfriend entered my sight, shaking the body. When nothing happened, she retracted her arm, crying much harder. She began mumbling apologies under her breath about how it wasn’t supposed to be like this and so on. I didn’t touch her. I just went back to my car, drove home and went to bed.” The wolf took a few seconds to smoke some, looking up to the panther as he continued, “You know, Walters, there are two kinds of people in this world. One can kill a man, but never sleeps again, living with the guilt of knowing they killed someone. The other, however, lies down for the night and sleeps like a fucking baby. Never screw with the latter man.” Dexter pointed to Det. Walters’ file he was holding, “Anymore questions, boss?”

The panther looked at Dexter. How calm he remained was still creeping him out, as he’d never had anyone tell the truth this coolly in his entire time on the force. He snapped out of his thoughts, looking to the folder. “Well, Dexter. You’re looking at up to 15 years for one count of voluntary manslaughter. That’s all I have left to say.” He shook the wolf’s hand and walked out the door.

As he closed the door behind him, he couldn’t shake the calm smile he was given when he shook Dexter’s hand, the smoke from the cigarette encircling it, emphasizing it. The placid expression haunting his vision.

[zombievildhund]

July 16, 2015

“Extremely short horror story.”

The wild dog crawled on. Limbs tingling, pounding headache, nausea. They all took their toll on the canine, until he collapsed. He laid there, slowly closing his eyes, dehydration taking over as his muscles spasmed, organs failing as he breathed one final time.

[zombievildhund]

July 15, 2015

“Summer activities”

Featuring a non-furry friend whom I furri-fied

The wind blew through his hair as he stood on the deck of the ferry, people and cars packed onto the floating taxi for the low price of $15. Legend adjusted the strap of his backpack, feeling his things shuffle around inside. The wild dog turned to his friend Chris, “Another 10 minutes or so. Got your trucks tightened?” The wolf looked up from his longboard, the one Legend gave him when he got a new one in exchange for the all the food he’d bought the wild dog after school for the past year. “Uh, yeah. I should be good,” he said, standing up and slinging his day pack over his shoulder. Legend put his arm around Chris’ shoulders, “Awesome, cause we’re not stopping until the last ferry leaves tonight.”

As they stepped off the ferry, Legend put on a hat and sunglasses, running to catch up to Chris who was already half way up the hill to the road. He jumped onto his longboard, knocking Chris’ boonie hat into his hands, “C’mon, man. We need to get on the road before everyone else or we’re going to have some irritated tourists on our hands.”

Chris caught up with the wild dog quickly, patting him on the shoulder as he pointed out the golf cart ahead of them, puttering along. Legend noticed the two children in the back facing seats, smiling as he got an idea. “Wanna skitch the cart?” he asked, pointing out the children. He didn’t wait for an answer, pumping harder to catch up to the cart. As he reached it, the painted canine grabbed onto the back handle bar, pulling himself forward to stand up. As Chris reached the cart, Legend was already entertaining the children. He looked up to see the father looking back through the rear view mirror, smiling and shaking his head.

Chris let go of the cart as it reached an intersection, turning left, Legend close behind as he waved bye to the family. As they turned into downtown, they could see some of the locals opening up shop. Restaurants, tours, merchandise stores, golf cart rental, and museums dotted the streets, a colorful display of buildings holding their own histories.

They stopped at a small restaurant on the main street, overlooking the lake that surrounded the small island. The boats coming in and out, tourists bustling around, golf carts driving by. The unique sound accompanied the lunch, interrupted by the jokes and laughter of the two canines.

As the day wore on, wind-whipped fur became a shared fashion choice of the two. Carving down the concrete through neighborhoods and wooded areas, taking in the nautical charm of the island. Legend took a sip of water from his hydration pack, letting the tube hang next to his arm as he moved closer to Chris, avoiding a crack in the road. Chris went to move to the side as well, giving him room to pump, when his wheel caught a sharp pebble, stopping him abruptly. Chris flew from the board, curling up as he skipped down the road. The wolf lay there for a second, shaking it off as he stood up, wincing from the wipeout. Sliding to a stop, Legend held out Chris’ board, the wild dog having picked it up before making his way over. “Anything broken?” he questioned the wolf, looking over him for any gashes or scrapes. Chris cursed, nostrils flaring as he stretched, flicking a few burs from his body, the one that came off his paw drawing blood. Legend tossed him some antiseptic, patting him on the shoulder as he took the time to snack.

As the sun disappeared on the horizon, the two stepped off the ferry, riding back to the parking lot to throw their longboards into Legend’s car. The two drove off, a good hour of a drive ahead of them as they made their way home after a long day of adventure.

[zombievildhund]

July 14, 2015

“Write something after doing deep research into a singular topic.”

Where I am is very dark. Pitch black. Doesn’t smell too good, either. I’ve been here for an hour or so now. I mean, I lost track of time after about 43 minutes, but I’m guessing it’s been little over an hour now. Then, suddenly, light. I squint, trying to see through the harsh white.

There’s a rat standing over me. He’s slightly hunched over as he points to me, looking past me. My mother comes into vision. I speak softly to her, “Hey, mom. How’ve you been?” She just nods, her body visibly shaking, her ears lying flat against her head as she cries into my father’s chest, screaming things like, “Why?’ and “No.” Then, they leave. I wonder to myself what I said to trigger her response.

I watch the rat. He’s writing something on a small card, which he places by my feet when he’s done. He shakes his head as he looks at me. I wonder what I’ve done to make him so disappointed, especially since I don’t know him from anywhere.

Another bright light, but not as long lasting as the first one. The flash of the camera goes off a few more times before it’s pushed aside. Suddenly, my clothes are being pulled off. I find it weird, and try to keep them on, but realize it’s best for me to just let them come off. Four more pictures, and then one more really close up, right above my chest.

I’m then moved to another area, though the uninteresting interior of this building would confuse someone enough for them to wonder if they had even moved at all. I’m set down on something that lowers a bit when I lay on it. The rat looks at something, scrawling a bunch of notes onto a sheet of paper before taking me back to the previous room. Or was it another room? I couldn’t tell.

Then they copied my fingerprints. I don’t know why they did this, I already did that before I got my job. More things were scratched onto the paper, photos being added to the thickening stack of papers on the clipboard.

The rat came back to the room with a few other people: a hyena, a shark, and a panther. They were all wearing the same thing as the rat. Must be the work uniform. The panther picked up the shirt I was wearing, my college’s insignia and mascot printed upon it. I notice a strange stain on it, the same place where the camera had taken the close up. Then my pants, the ones I wore when I was going out to party with the guys. They go through the rest of my clothing, the hyena looking around at one point to ask if I had been wearing any shoes. I chuckle. Seemed like a bit of a strange question, but I answered, “I rarely wear shoes, but no, I didn’t wear any tonight.”

The hawk came into the room, towering over the other guys. He started brushing through my fur and hair. I wondered if he’d ever seen an African wild dog before. Maybe the color pattern is interesting to him? He says a few things to the rat, pointing out where my piercings had been before they removed them earlier.

I’m taken to another room, where the rat comes back wearing a mask and cloak. He picks up a scalpel, putting it to my chest. I start to resist, but when he carves a very large Y on my torso, there’s no pain. I let him continue, still contemplating why it didn’t hurt. The weird part was he started reaching inside me, pulling things out and setting them aside. My lungs came out first, but I was still breathing. Then, my heart. But I was still functioning. My esophagus and trachea were set aside. Also, my liver, spleen, kidneys, stomach, and intestines. It was kind of creepy actually.

The rat pulled out a small tool that I hadn’t seen before. I felt him prod at my chest. The same place where they’d taken a picture, and the same place the stain on my shirt had been. I was interested as to why that part of my chest was so interesting.

While this is going on, the hyena comes back, also wielding a scalpel. He places it behind my ear, slicing along my head, over and then behind my other ear. I feel something moving on my head, but I’m not entirely sure what it is. A strange sound echoed through the room as an intensely quick, rhythmic thudding was felt from the top of my head. I feel the hyena reach around in my head, examining my brain. Was I being subjected to a lobotomy? He then put whatever moved on my head back, and walked away, writing something on his clipboard. 

I look back to see the rat putting everything back inside me. Thank God, I think to myself. I was getting more and more grossed out with each passing minute.

It’s been about a week now. I went back to the dark place for most of that time, which I wasn’t too excited about. But now, I’m in a beautiful building. Strange enough, I see all my family and friends in this building, too. They’re all crying, though. Some like my mom last week, others more reserved. Why are they all crying in such a beautiful building? Some people say some things to what sounds like some pretty sad music. I see my best friends and my mom say some of those things, but I can’t hear what they’re saying.

Back into the darkness I go. I’ve gotten used to it now, but I’m still not OK with it. A while later, after hearing muffled cries and prayers, I heard a loud thudding from in front of me, or the dark place, at least. It grew more and more quiet over a few minutes. I sat there in the silence, waiting for someone’s voice. I grew impatient, this being the longest I’ve been in the dark now. And then, it hit me.

I didn’t see anything. I didn’t say anything to anyone. I didn’t wonder. I didn’t feel, see, smell, or touch anything. None of the things I did in this past week were actual things.

I’m dead. That was my autopsy. That was my funeral. That was my burial.

This is my eternal rest.

[zombievildhund]

reader q&a

Thought I’d quickly hit the most common questions I’ve received.

1. Why do you write yourself/your fursona into every story? I write myself/Legend into every story because he’s much easier for me to write, considering that him being a representation of me means that all I have to do is put myself into these situations. This way, the emotions and actions are my own, which are much easier for me to write than an entirely different character with an entirely different personality. I’m not saying I can’t write other characters, just that I prefer to write myself into prompts for sake of speed and realistic emotion.

2. Why a male/male relationship for today’s story? I know male emotions better than female, especially during a breakup. As with the previous question, it was for ease and realistic emotion. 

[zombievildhund]

July 13, 2015

“Break up with someone who thinks they can change your mind.”

The car pulled up to the curb, slowing to a stop outside of the residence hall. The interior lights came on as the headlights went out, the once present silence returning as the car was turned off. The two occupants looked at each other. The one in the passenger seat, a bear who was still in the puppy-love stage of his relationship, smiled to the driver, a wild dog who was done with trying to make his relationship work mutually, who smiled softly.

“Thanks for the great night, Legend. You know how to treat a boy to some fun!” The bear chuckled as he flattered his boyfriend. Legend opened his mouth to reply, releasing his breath as no words were formed. He took a deep breath, looking to the lovestruck bear, “Look, Nathan... I think we need to...” Nathan smirked, “Oh, is someone nervous? Is it your first time, big boy?” The wild dog looked out the driver’s side window, running his fingers through his hair as he tried to figure out how to put together what he was saying. He looked back to Nathan, before looking down to his feet, not wanting to make eye contact. “No, Nathan, what I’m saying is we need to see other people. You want some Disney romance, and I can’t give it to you, nor do I want to. Someone else will, and I know you’ll find them. I... I’m sorry, Nathan.” Legend continued to look down, expecting to hear Nathan crying any second.

What he looked up to see though was Nathan giving him his ‘nice-try-babe’ face. “Listen, if you’re nervous, we can take it slow. I won’t rush you...” the bear leaned across the center console, keeping eye contact with the misunderstood wild dog, a smirk painted on his face. Legend just watched him, wondering if he was just trying to cope, “Did you hear anything I just said to you, Nathan?” As he heard Nathan’s laugh, he banged his head back onto the headrest, rubbing his temples in frustration. “Nathan, I’m not joking. We need to break up.” Nathan just turned in his seat, leaning into Legend. The wild dog screamed internally as he felt a hand caress his cheek, holding it still as the bear leaned in for a kiss. Legend felt the soft lips interlock with his as Nathan over-sexualized the kiss like every other, moaning and all.

The wild dog rested his hands on Nathan’s shoulders, turning away to rest the side of his head on the car seat, “Nathan, fucking... stop.” He watched tears well up in the big eyes, hearing the same voice that had tried to seduce him waver with fear and sadness. “Babe, you’re just-” Legend cut him off, “Stop calling me babe, Nathan! What are you not understanding here?!” Then, silence filled the car, interrupted every so often by the sound of tears dripping onto leather.

The wild dog watched as Nathan stepped out of the car, “I’m sorry, Nathan.” This was only followed by the bear crying more, a soft, “Fuck you...” breaking the still night air. Legend winced as the car door slammed, watching Nathan walk, slouched and rubbing at his eyes, to the door of the hall, disappearing into the building.

[zombievildhund]

July 12, 2015

“Zombies”

WARNING: Violence

Featuring medidarius; based upon these pictures of us (by SulakeHelvi)

Legend turned off the radio as he turned down his street, yawning from the long day at work. His headlights painted mailboxes, house numbers, and curbside gardens as they crawled along the pavement. One thing stood out as they washed over the bushes and fences of the houses, though.

 He slowed down and rolled down his window as he saw the familiar blue fur of his friend Medzy. He seemed to be limping slightly, and Legend swore he could see some scratches across his body, blood oozing slowly from the wounds. He turned his car off, reaching over into the glovebox to grab a flashlight. The wild dog grabbed his jacket from the backseat, shivering slightly as he threw it on.

The flashlight flickered to life, and Legend started walking towards the injured folf. He called out, “Medzy, are you OK?” No reply came, not even a sign of acknowledgement. He sighed, jogging up the driveway to cut him off, hoping that’d at least get his attention. He pointed the flashlight up into Medzy’s face, “Okay man, just tell me if you need to go to the-” The flashlight hit the ground, dying on impact, the moonlight left to illuminate them both. Legend’s face was painted with shock and fear as he saw Medzy up close.

The folf snarled as Legend took it all in: the dead, white eyes. The torn up fur and skin. The horribly placed bullet holes. Legend started to back up slowly, choking on his words as he croaked out, “M-Medzy?” There was an ominous stillness in the air as he spoke out. The dead, or rather, undead Medzy looked to the source of the sound, sniffing at the air. As Legend heard a growling sound emanating from his friend’s throat, he saw Medzy lunging towards him. He turned to run, barely escaping the folf’s grasp. He started sprinting down the street, breathing heavily, feet smacking the pavement as he ran for his life. As the wild dog turned to look behind him, he could see the zombie gaining on him slowly.

Legend started looking for a detour, the snarling of Medzy gaining volume as he closed in. He saw the park off to the left, but was unsure if that’d only slow himself down. He made a last second decision to turn left, Medzy turning to chase him down out of the corner of his eyes.

The wild dog ran through the trees, his breathing more labored as he grew more and more exhausted. He ducked into the brush and laid there, trying to keep his panting quiet, his chest aflame with pain, as he heard Medzy start to pass by. He waited until he heard nothing, then peered up out of the brush. Legend was tackled to the ground, fighting quickly to hold Medzy above him. Blood and saliva fell onto his face, mixing with his own as he was scratched at, his muzzle on fire from the wounds. His hand slipped from the folf’s shoulder, ducking his head in as Medzy snapped down at him. He screamed in pain as part of his ear was ripped off, reaching up to kick Medzy off of him. As he went to back away, he saw the zombie turn around and walk away. He sat, dumbfounded, as he reached up to touch his ear. He retracted his hand quickly, tears filling his eyes as he felt his heart rate slowing. Legend moved to stand up, collapsing as he fell into a coma, his heart stopping soon after.

3 hours later: Legend stood up, shaking as he regained his balance. He raised his head, sniffing at the air. The wild dog walked out of the forest, following his nose down the road. His eyes scanned the mailboxes, house numbers, and curbside gardens as he shuffled through the neighborhood. His reflection flashed in the mirror of his car, his dead eyes illuminated by the moonlight.

[zombievildhund]

July 11, 2015

“Foreshadowing - must foreshadow an event at some point in the story”

WARNING: Violence and gore

Legend looked up at the night sky as he walked home from his friend’s house, sighing contently. As he walked, he felt a rumbling inside that seemed to stretch from his waist to his throat. The wild dog clutched his stomach, grimacing as he crossed the street. The city blocks seemed to stretch on forever as he tried to figure out how much longer it’d take him to get home.

A chill ran from the tip of his tail to his neck as Legend glanced into the mirror of a parked car to see a hooded figure trailing him. He continued to walk, trying to seem unaware of the situation, hopefully buying himself some time to come up with a plan of action. As he reached around in his pocket for his phone, he felt something hit him in the side of the head. HARD. Legend hit the pavement, disoriented and dizzy from the sudden impact. He felt the attacker kick him in the gut a few times, his body reeling in pain. Acting in self defense the best he could, he kicked forward wildly, sweeping out the attacker by pure luck. Legend clenched his teeth as he tried to stand up, the tortuous pain of the attack ripping through his body. He felt a warmness where he’d been struck, reaching back to feel the hot blood trickle over his fingers. As he got to his feet, he watched the attacker beginning to stand up as well.

The fight wasn’t looking good for Legend, the attacker landing hit after hit in quick, precise succession. The last thing the wild dog remembered before tunneling in on the attacker was how he was going to survive this potentially fatal encounter. He placed his hands in the middle of the hoodie-clad attacker’s chest, shoving forcefully to give himself room to continue. Legend tackled him against a wall, grinding his knee up into the attacker’s gut as he placed a hand on the attacker’s throat.

Legend smiled softly at first, slowly gaining a darker undertone as he laughed to himself. As he spoke, his face looked to be illuminated by a ghostly flame that protruded from his eyes. He began to cough as he laughed, pausing a second to spit blood onto the pavement. Legend reached up and began squeezing the man’s throat in his hand, forcing his mouth open. He turned to meet his victim’s gaze, feeling the power draining from the body. As the wild dog opened his mouth like the squirming body’s, he dug his claws into the fleshy throat, squeezing even tighter. Legend could feel the man slowly start to squirm less and less as his victim’s soul glided up the man’s throat and out into the air, spreading like smoke before it was consumed by the wild dog. When nothing else came from the body except for blood, Legend let the body drop, the crimson liquid oozing from the claw marks in the throat, pooling onto the ground as he stepped out of the alleyway back onto the streets.

At least now he wouldn’t need to make a midnight snack...

[zombievildhund]

pretty good start

Thank you to everyone to your comments and critique on my first short story in 4 whole years! The next story is scheduled for today @ 10 AM EST. Violence warning for those who dislike such themes.

[zombievildhund]

Now there was there nigh unto the mountains a great herd of swine feeding.

Mark 5:11 (KJV)

[zombievildhund]

July 10, 2015

“Be careful out there,” your mom said as you grabbed your duffel bag and headed on a camping trip with friends. “You know that tonight is the anniversary, don’t you?” You nodded, then shut the door behind you before getting in the car and taking off.

Legend was jolted awake by the blaring of his phone’s alarm. He picked it up in a tired paw, lifting his face from the pillow’s comfort to read the time. 4:00 AM, September 18. His head hit the pillow again before he stepped out of bed, rubbing his eye while he walked to the bathroom. He looked in the mirror for a few minutes, a small grin soon cracking from his sleepy face.

The wild dog sneaked downstairs quietly, cringing with every tiny creak that echoed through the house. Legend sighed softly as he tiptoed down the last couple steps, turning through the doorway into the kitchen. “Was wondering when you’d be coming down,” a voice from behind him spoke softly. He turned around to see his mom sitting at the dining room table, a robe lazily tied to her body. He smiled warmly, “Morning, mom. Didn’t expect you to be up, considering you don’t have to be up for work for another,” he checked the stove for the time, “three hours.” His mom stood from her seat, walking over to him and holding him in her arms, his head resting atop hers, “I just want to make sure you’re safe. The anniversary is tonight, you know...” Legend sighed, holding his mother at elbow length, looking down into her eyes, “I know. I’ll be alright.” He kissed her forehead, smiling once more before turning to grab his bag. He slung it onto his shoulders and shut the door behind him, just as his friends were pulling up.

Legend shut the trunk door of the SUV, moving around the side to hop into the passenger seat. In the driver’s seat sat a Siamese cat holding a cup of coffee, the drink extended towards the canine. Jaden smiled, “Morning, sleepyhead. Thought we’d be early as usual...” A voice came from the backseat, “Yeah, we usually have to come in and wake you up, you lazy mutt.” Legend turned to the back to see the lanky possum lying across the seats, “Fuck you too, Chris.” The possum took a sip of his coffee, “Just sayin’.” Legend turned to Jaden, “And on that note, let’s get a move on!” The radio was turned on, the volume slowly increasing as they pulled out of the driveway, Chris kicking the two front seats in retaliation as Jaden and Legend laughed softly, singing along.

The “lazy mutt” stretched, groaning loudly as he stepped out of the car into the cool mountain air. He turned to Chris who was unloading the gear as Jaden figured out the map, “Isn’t this nice, man? Better than being stuck with your girlfriend back in town, eh?” Chris just shook his head as he threw Legend his bag. As soon as they got everything together, they began hiking to their campsite, the crisp air visible in the guys’ breaths.

Jaden stood over the campfire, watching the food to make sure it didn’t burn, the work that went into getting said food too much to lose. Meanwhile, Legend and Chris were looking around the camp they’d set up, taking in the mountains and dense forest across the water from them. The possum skipped a stone while they talked about random things that’d gone on that day, such as Jaden slipping into the river after an hour of trying to spear fish. Soon enough, they went back to the center where the fire blazed, Jaden handing them small plates of fish. After they ate and joked about, they retired to their tents.

Legend peered from his tent, the light from the moon not enough to illuminate the camp. He managed to make out Chris, though, walking towards the river bank. “Chris!” he shouted quietly, “where are you going?” The possum turned slightly to whisper back, “Just takin’ a piss, man...” Legend nodded slowly, lying back down inside his tent. His mind went to all sorts of places, remembering the anniversary of his uncle’s disappearance after a camping trip. His mind started racing, ‘What if Chris disappeared?’, ‘What if Jaden got lost looking for him?’, ‘What if one of them gets killed somehow?’. He shook his head, the wild dog telling himself to stop worrying as he shut his eyes to go back to sleep.

Legend heard a tent opening, the sound reassuring him, until he realized it was his own, and saw Jaden peering in. “Where the fuck is Chris, Legend?” He sat up, looking at the cat, pointing with his thumb towards the river bank, “He went to take a piss, chill.” Jaden looked over to the river bank, shaking his head nervously, “There’s no one at the river bank, man.” Legend bolted to the tent opening to look to the bank. No Chris. He turned to grab his flashlight, “Shitshitshitshitshit...” He turned to Jaden, “Grab your flashlight, we have to go looking for him!” Legend was panicking as he and Jaden walked towards the forest looking for Chris. The trekked into the brush, yelling out Chris’ name, flashlights darting around the trees.

New York Times, September 20, 2015

TWO COLLEGE STUDENTS STILL MISSING IN COLORADO MOUNTAINS, ONE FOUND FACE DOWN IN RIVERBANK, MILES FROM SUPPOSED CAMPSITE

[zombievildhund]

welcome to my sensational mind

I used to write a lot in my pre-teen years, but nothing ever became of that. So now, I’m going to start writing again, beginning with daily prompts. You can follow me if you’d like to see what becomes of these, or you can peruse whenever you feel necessary. Writing quality might be a bit low for the first few stories, need to get back in the writing mindset.

~ first post scheduled for 8:30 AM EST ~