The Siege

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Wolf
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The Siege

Unread post by Wolf » Mon Oct 08, 2018 1:11 pm

Thought I would post part of a chapter from my novel for everyone’s enjoyment. Like the rest of the novel it is speculation on Sasquatch behaviour and any comments or opinions on it are welcome…

From the safety of the barn the two Sasquatch watched the Hairless Ones until they went back inside and re-bolted the door.

The young male smiled a wicked smile at the young female. It was time to have some fun. He walked out onto the drive, being careful to avoid the areas lit up by the electronic eyes. Picking up a handful of gravel from the drive he hurled it at the house and ducked back into the barn.

There was banging and loud words from inside the house as the Hairless Ones reacted. But then silence.

Looking at the red glow of the electronic eyes, the young Sasquatch got an idea. Breaking off a long branch from a nearby tree, he walked between the glow to stand once again against the wall of the house. Lifting the branch, he poked at the nearest eye and was satisfied to see it moved to point up towards the night sky. He quickly moved around the house, pushing each one to point it skyward. Now he could move freely all around the house.

Satisfied with his efforts he sat against a wall and waited.

No creature on earth had the patience of a Sasquatch.

As he sat he remembered the stories his mother had told him when he was young. She had tried to drum into his head how dangerous the Hairless Ones were. They could simply point at you and wound you, so grievously it sometimes killed you. She had the scars to prove it. And when they wounded you they roared as loud as an Alpha, but without opening their mouths!
As he matured he saw it was not the Hairless Ones that roared, but the weapons they carried, and thanks to the patience of his father the young Sasquatch also had learnt they had big weaknesses. Their night vision was poor and even in the brightest day they seemed not to notice a curious young watcher in the trees, as long as he stayed perfectly still.

His father had been a master watcher of the Hairless Ones, teaching the young Sasquatch that they could be a good source of food. By watching them long enough you would find their weaknesses and exploit the opportunities those weaknesses presented. Despite his immense bulk, his father had been a ghost around their farms and campsites, his long hair blending his form into the trees. The Hairless Ones went about their business unaware that within arms reach was a giant Alpha Male Sasquatch and behind him its curious child. The trick was to stay perfectly still and they would walk right past you, often looking at the ground and totally unaware of their surroundings.
And then his sire and teacher had taught him how to reveal himself to the Hairless Ones in increments designed to scare them silly, despite his mother’s complaints. But even she had accepted the benefits when the first drought had struck. Without her mate’s raids the family would have slept hungry far more often than they did.

Despite their powerful weapons, the Hairless Ones rarely used them if you revealed yourself to them the right way. The young Sasquatch fondly remembered laughing with his father as the Hairless Ones ran away, the weapons in their hands forgotten. Sometimes they didn’t even run! They would simply collapse on the spot, their strange, white eyes rolling back in their heads, leaving he and his father plenty of time to rifle through what they carried. Over time he and his sire had developed varying techniques to build the fear in them.

Sometimes all it took were a few rocks thrown and a growl from the darkness. Other times scraping the side of a tent, or heavy footsteps would build the tension to the point one good roar would send them scrambling to get away.
And they moved so fast on their skinny legs and their strange machines, always in a hurry to get somewhere. The Hairless Ones had no concept of patience.

The stars had moved some distance through the night sky before he finally heard the soft sound of snoring.

He looked to where the old male’s daughter sat, patiently waiting beneath a tree. With his night eyes he could clearly see she was eating something… an apple she had pilfered from a barrel in the barn.

He smiled an evil smile. Time to increase the tension a little…
The mightiest oak was once a nut that stood his ground https://www.sasquatchstories.com

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ripperton
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Re: The Siege

Unread post by ripperton » Mon Oct 08, 2018 7:26 pm

Nice.
Is this from a novel you are writing ?

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Wolf
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Re: The Siege

Unread post by Wolf » Mon Oct 08, 2018 10:32 pm

It is finished mate.
Waiting to see if an agent will take it on, if not I will self-publish.
Here's the next bit:


Billybob was getting very tired. He had not slept properly for three days and it was starting to get to him. It had been ages since something had thrown gravel at the house. He had taken a now-familiar position on the floor against the wall. Above his head was a boarded up window from which he could take potshots if the boogers attacked.

Under the opposite window, his shotgun still firmly held in both hands, Will was sleeping. Billybob hoped he had put the safety on. He did not fancy being shot because Will had a bad dream. From where Billybob sat, his back against the wall under the other window, he could see Copperhead in the kitchen. The man had large headphones on his head, listening with some sort of recording device for any sounds outside the house.

In the middle of the floor Fairy Floss sat cross-legged, playing with some shards of crystal of all things. He remembered overhearing her telling Will earlier that they soothed the Sasquatch, or something stupid like that.

On Will’s sofa chair sprawled Camobear, softly snoring with his mouth open.

Billybob felt his own eyes close. He would just rest them for a second.

Abruptly they snapped open.

What was that? He listened again and noticed Copperhead had sat up straight, both hands on the headphones on his ears. He had heard it too.

There!
He heard it again.
A faint scraping sound.
But, what was it?

Finally, he worked it out. Someone, someTHING was dragging very softly along the wall! It was getting steadily louder as it approached the part of the wall he was leaning against! Then it went right past where he was sitting on the floor, his back against the wall under the window. As the sound passed through the boards he was leaning against, Billybob felt that now-familiar icy chill ripple down his back as if ghostly fingers were caressing his spine instead of the wall.

It moved on and continued around the house, fading as it went. The frown on Copperhead’s face told him it had not stopped and sure enough, he soon heard it again as it approached once more his place on the wall. Closer and closer the dragging sound came towards him..

The sound grew steadily louder as it once again approached where he sat. His entire soul focused on it, to the point it filled his world as it came to the very spot his back was resting.
He squeezed his eyes tight, willing it to pass on again.

But it didn’t! Shockingly, the faint scraping sound stopped right where he was sitting!
Time stood still.

He could feel his heart pounding madly in his chest and sweat beading on his forehead despite the coldness in his spine. Distantly he realised his lungs were empty but dared not take a breath, lest it be heard by whatever was outside.
Fighting his complaining lungs he suddenly became aware he could hear breathing!
But it was not coming from him!

It was on the other side of the wall, which suddenly felt paper thin. Each slow inhalation dragged on forever, paused, then changed slightly as the sighing wind of the exhale likewise went on for an impossibly long time. His fevered imagination felt the chill of it as if there was no wall at all and it was blowing directly down his spine.

It knew he was there! But how? Could it hear the frantic pounding of his heart? Was it staring down at him through the gap in the boards over the window?

Refusing to open his eyes to look up Billybob felt the world stand still. A distant roaring began to sound in his ears as his brain screamed for oxygen. The blood had drained from his body, making his legs feel numb, lifeless and heavy as stone. He doubted he could move even if he wanted to as he listened to that excruciatingly slow, deliberate breathing. He felt the burning eyes of death stripping its way into his soul, even though he knew there was no way it could see him at this angle. Maybe it could see his feet!

He struggled to move them, to pull them in, but they would not move. Then, strangely, he felt the wall begin to vibrate. Confused at first, he suddenly realised the thing was growling!

It started soft and barely audible, but steadily grew, until it spread through his skin and flesh into his guts, then deep into the marrow of his bones. Distantly he felt his bladder let go and did not care. He had lost all control of his body and was dimly aware his breathing had started again. His breath was coming in short, sharp gasps and he was involuntarily making low huffing noises over and over that he could not stop.

Under the table, Sal whimpered.

The growl grew steadily louder, so deep and with such controlled power and volume the thought of the sheer size of what could make such a sound made his stomach drop and the stench of his own faeces hit his nostrils. But he did not care.

Please god, make it stop! His mind screamed, and then just as he thought he would go mad from the sound... it stopped!

Billybob sat frozen for a long moment, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. Slowly the world returned to normal. The wall was no longer vibrating. Sal had stopped whimpering. The sound of the breathing had also gone, and with it the worst of the fear. He opened his eyes to see Copperhead staring at him from the kitchen, his eyes wide, staring at the wetness of his jeans. Feeling his face go red he glanced across to where Fairy Floss still sat on the floor, her eyes as round as saucers. She had heard it too!

Thankfully, both Will and Camobear slept on, ignorant of it all and still snoring.

Not saying a word, and with life finally returning to his legs, Billybob eventually was able to get to his feet. He went to the back of the house to wash himself and change his soiled pants. He had grown up in this house and knew every creak in the floor boards, every nail in the walls.Yet alone in the darkness, it now terrified him more than he ever thought possible. He rushed to change his pants, panicking at the shrinking walls and darkened, boarded windows staring at him like he was a helpless child. The terror of being alone in the back of the house was greater than his shame at soiling himself, and forced him to quickly return to the front with the others. There was no way he was gong to lean against a wall again so instead he went to his sofa chair and sat down, cradling his rifle like it was a teddy bear across his chest.

Thankfully where Copperhead was sitting in the kitchen was now out of his line of sight and Fairy Floss had joined him at the kitchen table leaving only the sleeping forms of Camobear and Will to keep him company in the flickering candle light.
Despite the terror he felt his eyelids suddenly grow very heavy. He would close them just for a second.
The mightiest oak was once a nut that stood his ground https://www.sasquatchstories.com

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ripperton
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Re: The Siege

Unread post by ripperton » Tue Oct 09, 2018 5:45 am

Nicley written.
Classic infrasound event there.
I get the impression you are American ?

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Wolf
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Re: The Siege

Unread post by Wolf » Tue Oct 09, 2018 9:53 am

ripperton wrote:
Tue Oct 09, 2018 5:45 am
Nicley written.
Thanks.
ripperton wrote:
Tue Oct 09, 2018 5:45 am
Classic infrasound event there.
The entire novel is conjecture on Sasquatch behaviour garnered from hours of Sasquatch Chronicles, Bigfoot Eyewitness Radio, and Bigfoot Outlaws.
ripperton wrote:
Tue Oct 09, 2018 5:45 am
I get the impression you are American ?
Now normally I would feel insulted (lol) but in this context I will take that as a compliment.
As an Aussie I was a bit worried my characters would be overly stereotyical 'mercans, but thankfully those on the Sasquatch Chronicles forum like them and have told me they can 'hear' the southern accent in their heads while they read. (cheers)
The mightiest oak was once a nut that stood his ground https://www.sasquatchstories.com

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