Flooding Lions

If you were in an ocean, a fish would go unnoticed, yes? They’re fairly common there, don’t you think? If a fish were to jump in the ocean, it wouldn’t be strange for the other fish. It’d be relatively common place, no?

That’s what I think of—what comes to mind—when I think of his arrival. The tall man, with the black bow and piercing arrows, with the gnarled sword and jagged dagger.

The tall man with the black beard, the monster’s cloak.

The tall man astride the most beautiful beast I’d seen.

Astride the white lion. Continue reading “Flooding Lions”

Hunter, Oh Hunter

Hunter, hunter.

Taking flight.

Hunter, hunter.

Roaring might.

Hunter, hunter.

Devour light.

Hunter, hunter.

Bring the night. Continue reading “Hunter, Oh Hunter”

Watcher Watcher

There is a creeping sensation that comes with the night. Lurking from the shadows. Looming above or beneath with no explanation. No information. Until, finally—

It pounces.

Not all nights are like this. Some are peaceful, restful. Some are full of dreams, full of sleep. It’s just the nights where one should look over the shoulder—nights in which the dark holds more than sleep.

Those are the nights to look after.

And, tonight…

It’s one of those nights. Continue reading “Watcher Watcher”

Mad Hunt

If you stop looking so hard, you can find it. That moment when your eyes stop focusing, when you feel yourself going drifting, that’s where it is.

No, no. Don’t try to grasp it.

Let it grasp you.

That’s the only way to get there.

Though, I have to tell you. Warn you, really:

It’s a terrifying place.

Continue reading “Mad Hunt”

To Be Trifled With

Warlocks were not to be trifled with.

That’s how the saying goes. How it’s been for thousands of years, despite no one really using the word “trifled” anymore.

Because there really wasn’t any other way to put it.

Warlocks were not to be trifled with.

How stupid do you have to be to ignore a thousand-year-old saying?

Pretty stupid, I think.

So, I don’t know what that makes me. But, it probably isn’t good. Continue reading “To Be Trifled With”

Monstrous Tale

I was supposed to kill you.

That’s what I was brought here to do. What I was hired to do.

What I know IĀ should do.

Not just for my sake, but for the sake of others.

You’re dangerous.

So very, extremely, dangerous.

And yet…

Time after time…

…I can’t seem to pull the trigger. Continue reading “Monstrous Tale”

Fairytale Endings

They have forgotten.

They’ve become so consumed by their endings. By the “happily ever afters” that they’ve forgotten.

Fairytales do not always have beautiful endings.

The hero doesn’t always win in the end.

Sometimes, the main cast doesn’t get what they want.

Because happiness is not what fairytales are about.

That is not why they exist.

They’ve forgotten all of that though. With their rewrites, and their moving pictures, and their upbeat songs. They’ve completely written out every bad ending. Anything that is not satisfactory. They’ve taken all the bite out of the beasts, all the fear out of fairytales. All the morals are upturned, tossed out. And for what?

Happily ever after.

As one of the cast, I’m sick of it.

I think it’s about time for a wake-up call.


A wake-up call. Continue reading “Fairytale Endings”

Don’t Play With Your Food

I stop in my tracks, confused for the moment.

Reaching up a claw, I scratch a bit doggishly at my head.

Fur cascades down in a slight rain.

Well, it is shedding season, after all…

I shake myself out once, which brings another flurry of fur, then sniff the air. Testing it.

Under my breath, a growl escapes.

Aggravated more than ever, I retrace my steps. Go back to the start of my big wolfish prints. To the beginning of this game.

Then I find the smaller ones. The ones that aren’t oddly shaped, nor are they animal shaped.

Human footprints. Continue reading “Don’t Play With Your Food”

Ferocious Appeal

I’ve never been anything but ferocious.

In a world where everyone is an animal, you have to be. That’s the way I see it. Especially in a world where your kind is going extinct.

You have to be ferocious to survive.

There are more predators out there. More people. And they’ll hunt you down. They’ve got no problem doing it. Trust me, I’ve seen it before. Where do you thinkĀ my family went, huh?

I’ve never been anything but ferocious.

Usually, it’s just directed at the world. At everything in general. Like trying to touch a porcupine. You bristle up, and they get the idea. They’ll stay away, leave you alone. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. To be left alone. At least that way, I’ll still be alive, right? That’s why ferocious is all I’ve ever been, and I’ve never shut it off. Never directed it anywhere but out.

But now?

Now is different.

I’m directed now. Continue reading “Ferocious Appeal”

Tiger Chase

There are two types of chases.

The first is the most common. Where you’re running away from something that’s running at you. Both of you are giving it your all because you just might get away, and your pursuer doesn’t want that. You both are completely aware that there’s a chance for you, the runner. The one fleeing. Because the pursuer can’t go on forever. Eventually, they’ll slow down. And, eventually, they’ll fall so far behind, they won’t be able to catch you.

That’s the sort of chase dogs give. Or humans.

It’s the more common form of chase because it holds more truth to it. Generally speaking, neither pursuer nor pursued can continue forever. And, just because they’re pursuing, doesn’t mean that they’re unstoppable.

At least, that’s generally true.

But not when it comes to the second form of chase.

Having someone run at you full speed, with everything they have, is intimidating. Scary. But it’s even worse when they don’t give it their all. When they don’t run.

When your pursuer walks.

That’s the second form. The scariest form.

Because, your pursuer isn’t walking for no reason. They’re not walking because they can’t run. They’re walking because they’re confident. They know.

It doesn’t matter.

If you run, and if they run, it’s pointless. Useless.

Because they know that, in the end, they’ll catch you.

They’ll catch you.

This second form of being chased is far more terrifying. It causes panic. You feel claustrophobic because you know that the walls are closing in. That, no matter where you turn, it’s just another corner, another snag that brings your pursuer closer.

It’s the type of chase that fires give. That storms give. That tigers give.

Only the fiercest of hunters pursue this way.

And, as I run, I know it in my bones:

You’re not like a dog. Not like a human.

I see your tiger eyes. Your slow walk.

And I know.

You’ll catch me. Continue reading “Tiger Chase”