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werewolf
Feb 13th, 2013, 03:33 PM
at Mr. Thompson with all 4 of its ruby-red eyes unblinking. It froze Mr. Thompson in place. They stared at each other for a moment. They sized each other up, both were about the same height; the dark being was stronger than him, and it had long black claws and the end of its hands. This irreconcilable creature, whatever it was. It meant to do him harm. Remembering that his gun was in the cabin; with one desperate move, Mr. Thompson pushed the inky dark being to one side and made a break for the cabin and the heavy well made door. As he pushed the dark figure out of the way, he felt something rake across his midsection. He made it in and just about had the heavy door closed behind him when he felt the door started to push back. This being whatever it was. It was truly stronger than him. In the open, the being could take him. However, he was in his house. The walls and door were built to be strong. Mr. Thompson had to push hard with all of his might; to force the heavy door closed. His muscles ached from the strain as slid the cross beam across the door. The heaviness of the door and cross beam were meant to keep bears out. The dark being wasnít as strong as a bear, he hoped. Mr. Thompson could hear the sound of the being started to pound on heavy timbers that made up the door. Mr. Thompson was frightened, not since his dad stopped beating him that he was afraid. He subsequently felt the pain surge up his body and felt were the creatures had touched him. He was bleeding, Mr. Thompson look around for his shotgun; then he spotted it in the corner leaning against the wall in the corner, like a forgotten friend.

He rushed over and picked it up and checked to see if there were any rounds into the chamber. He didnít find any. The pain increased every movement with his body. He would have to dress the wound later. Mr. Thompson started to panic. He tried to remember where he left the ammo. He hurriedly started to search for them, as the sound of the being pounding continued. In a drawer, he found exactly one shell; he quickly loaded the shotgun. Just then the pounding stopped; Mr. Thompson looked towards one of the windows.

Then within a breath the heavy timber door exploded inward, feeling the room with smoke and splinters. Some of the smoke-filled Mr. Thompson lungs with started him to cough. The splinters impaled into the skin of Mr. Thompson. Then there in the doorway was the dark being breathing heavily, its ruby-red eyes cut through the smoke and found Mr. Thompson.

Mr. Thompson started to raise his gun towards the inky dark being. The dark being moved slightly and then Mr. Thompson felt something hit hard into his chest. The feeling made his knees weak; he could hardly catch his breath. He fell down to his knees dropping the shotgun in the process; his mind started to play his life in flashbacks. Death of his mother, the