| I actually can't think of a title; sorry | |
|---|---|
| Tweet Topic Started: Oct 26 2010, 04:10 PM (183 Views) | |
| White Wolf | Oct 26 2010, 04:10 PM Post #1 |
|
Advanced Member
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
I apologize for typos and lack of proper paragraph indents in advance. I am riding on the back of a fire truck, leaning over the side, catching the wind in my open mouth. The night shows no moon or stars, but light is not in want for the blazing electricity of the city around me. I laugh in sheer joy and excitement, even though I know these times are not happy ones. But at this very moment? Yeah. It's okay. The jeep in front of us veers to the left, we follow, and the car behind us follows. I dig my claws into the truck's metal and my long ears flap behind me. I howl my found-a-fox howl, and Jimmy, who is riding on the back of the jeep, leans over and laughs. Hey Hound! he calls, the wind ripping his volume away. Jimmy! I call back. I laugh again and Jimmy pretends he is a dog and howls. I don't know my real name, so everybody calls me Hound, short for bloodhound. Davis, who is hanging onto the side of the fire truck by the ladder, whoops and pumps his fist in the air. There is no sign of the rival gang. We are almost home free. Just one more mile 'till the safehouse. Charlie, who is driving the convertable behind the fire truck, punches his horn, and the other four cars of our caravan honk back. It's all G. The other gangs want me, to make a profit off me, because I'm not your average bloodhound. Actually, I can be used as a powerful weapon. But, the thing is, I don't exactly know how to be the weapon. I don't feel special. I'm just me. Just a dog. Kinda. I had come to find the Hounds -- that's my gang's name -- when I was young. People were searching for me already by then, but no one knew it was me. Not even I did. The Hounds just took me in because I was -- am -- a bloodhound and they wanted a mascot. But when it turned out that I could understand and imitate human speech, everyone started finding out that I was what they had been searching for. Well. Not everybody. Only those in the Underworld -- that's what the more ramshackle looking part of the city is called -- knew. All the rest of the world? Nope. They have no idea that the Hounds even exist. But the hounds won't use me as a weapon unless I say the O.K., because in those times when they didn't know about me, we all became pretty tight. Tighter than a nobleman's ass. And I would give my life for any one of them, just as they are willing tonight. But none of the other gangs have shown up yet, so everything is alright. Half a mile 'till the safehouse. My tongue lolls out to the side of my mouth, tasting the city wind. Jimmy leans over again, and calls to me. He's facing backwards when he starts to ask me what we're gonna have for our victory dinner tonight, that was why he didn't see it coming. though why no one else but me did, I don't know. I just don't know. My eyes widen before the rest of me can fully comprehend what is happening. Jimmy sees the surprise, horror, fright, in my eyes, I see him slowly precessing it, reading the expression in my eyes, but because I don't have any human features, he couldn't read it fast enough. The next thing I know, his eyes are gone. That was the first thing I understood. His eyes are gone. And then his flesh and blood and brains splatter on my face, and the truck roars past, it's occupants shouting their triumph. Gunfire breaks out, the night shatters with fire and screams of men and metal. Something happens, and the driver of the fire truck has to swerve off course. We are heading uptown, to the Overworld, the other part of the city. I am blinking, with the earth swirling and pitching around me, probably in shock over Jimmy's abrupt death, and otherwise unmoving. Then the fire truck crashes into something, perhaps a building, and I am thrown some ten feet away. People are swarming around me, unidentifiable, fire is hot and bright in the background, and everything, everyone, is my enemy. I cannot tell friend from foe, so everyone meant me harm. I stumble to all fours, shake my head, trying to erase years of Jimmy from my mind. And I run, blindly, as hard and fast as I can. I run until I collide with an unmovable force. White lights of indoor lightbulbs, conversations of both the human and dog tongue. I focus, look around, find myself at a restaurant that is open to the street. The fires from the gang war are a few blocks away, burning high and bright. I start crying while staring at it. Jimmy. He died on my account. And probably others as well. And I just left them there. I lift my muzzle and scream my pain at the ceiling. I hear some other distant broken howls join mine, filling some of the emptiness. Not a found-a-fox howl, or a this-means-victory howl, but a howl that I hadn't sung in a long time. One I hadn't thought I'd sing again. ~ I am walking down the street in a crowd of kids. Our houses are on fire. The whole neighborhood is on fire. I got seperated from my family, just like the rest of the children and teens and young adults with me. The crowd surges into a building containing adults offering help, and I am sucked inside the giant room with everyone else. Kids swarm everywhere, lounging on anything they can find to try to get some rest, while most just curl up on the tiled floor. The night is bright outside, alive with crying and fire. I stand still, watching the crowded room. Some people are wandering around, trying to distract themselves, or find someone they know. Alot of these kids are from the underworld, parentless and wrecked. These poor people, I whisper. Some cops and a detective are roaming the room, asking questions, trying to figure out who is responsible for all this crap. When they see me, they see something in my expression, in my eyes, that must catch their attention, spark their interest. Maybe it was the wisdom, maybe the sadness, or the old age in my eyes, reflecting my old soul despite how young my body is. Maybe I just looked guilty. They come over to me. They ask me if I know what happened, and I tell them no. They ask a few more questions, but when it becomes clear that I am not going to tell them anything useful, they pause. And then we hear a dog, somewhere in the city, howling. I turn my head in the direction it comes from. Simultaneously, all the other young people in the room do the same in one giant sweeping movement. The detective and cops and other adults turn too, trying to understand what is happening. The detective looks back at me. Some of the teens howl in response, telling the dog that h is not alone, ignoring the shushing adults. Do you know what that is? asks the detective. Can you understand that? What is it saying? I stare at him for a moment, then say tiredly, you wouldn't understand. He smirks, try me. I sigh and tell him, it's just another tired wolf howling for vengence he knows he shouldn't distribute, pleading for peace he knows he can't obtain, and crying for forgiveness he knows he doesn't deserve. A wolf? He looks at me like I'm crazy. There are no wolves in the city, let alone tired ones. I turn my eyes back to the crowd of bodies finally quiet and settling down to fitful sleep, a sad smile on my face. You say that, I say softly, even with so many here before you now. The detective gives a fleeting look around the room, glances at me, then closes his eyes, sighs, and shakes his head. You're right, I don't understand. |
![]() |
|
| Rebel X | Oct 30 2010, 12:40 PM Post #2 |
|
Advanced Member
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
This story was so confusing to me, so I guess I feel like the detective in the end. First, the character itself. When i was reading. I figured it was a dog, like an animal and that it was part of a fire department. Or you know pretty much like those firehouse dogs. Then I learn it's a dog or mascot of this underworld gang of the region...well I won't try and summerize the story b/c that'll ruin it for everyone. I think it was mostly the last part of the story that confused me...the detective asking questions and the messaging howls. Good story though, like it showed perspective. I wasn't expected this story at all. I liked how you portrayed the emotions in every event. |
![]() |
|
| White Wolf | Oct 30 2010, 12:49 PM Post #3 |
|
Advanced Member
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
*smiles sadly* Yeah. I guess it wouldn't make much sense to someone who hasn't seen it. Sorry about confusing you. Do you mind if I explain it a little? I wouldn't feel so terrible about it then. But it might riun it for you. Maybe. Or not. :/ |
![]() |
|
| Rebel X | Oct 30 2010, 12:51 PM Post #4 |
|
Advanced Member
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
I'm afraid I'm out of the loop. Haha it's up to you. I think it was well-written regardless. |
![]() |
|
| White Wolf | Oct 30 2010, 12:53 PM Post #5 |
|
Advanced Member
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
Out of the loop? *confusedness* Umm.... I'm sorry about that. |
![]() |
|
| Rebel X | Oct 30 2010, 12:58 PM Post #6 |
|
Advanced Member
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
You said i haven't seen something so I'm unfamiliar with what that something is. |
![]() |
|
| White Wolf | Oct 30 2010, 01:54 PM Post #7 |
|
Advanced Member
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
Ah. Sorry. Nevermind. |
![]() |
|
| 1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous) | |
| « Previous Topic · Your Stories · Next Topic » |
| Track Topic · E-mail Topic |
5:40 PM Jul 10
|





![]](http://z5.ifrm.com/static/1/pip_r.png)



5:40 PM Jul 10