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[FICTION] Tales from Port Astor | The Hunter



Note: This is an early work of mine from 2015. I included it to maybe show differences between how I write now versus how I wrote then. 


His head pounded as his senses came back to him. Tom lay on a cool, damp cement floor and the scent of rot and sewage permeated all around. He remembered what had happened what seemed like only moments ago.

He and his comrades, Raul and Rog, were chasing their quarry; a horrid beast, but with only patches of skin and fur to cover its bare muscle and gore. It led them on a grand chase through the narrow streets illuminated only by the dingy streetlamps which colored it the same as dark urine.

As they turned the corner, their prey had seemed to elude them. They cursed and spat in frustration; this wasn’t the first time this had happened. This moment lasted only but a brief second, before the beast announced itself from behind, from behind its pursuers. It flung itself at them, with the hunters only having enough time to gaze in horror in realization that they were the real prey here.

Tom was thrown into a nearby storm sewer, but not before he saw Raul and Rog torn asunder by the beast. The last thing he heard before he slipped into merciful unconsciousness was the dying screams of his fellow hunters, and the dread howl of a beast born of nightmare.

Tom stumbled to his feet, and tried to climb up the sides of the drain to freedom. It was to no avail. On either end of the storm sewer were tunnels that led to the rest of the system that crisscrossed the city. The last thing he was keen on doing was going into a small, unlit tunnel with that beast roaming about, but since he was unable to leave his current location any other way, he spat and entered one of the tunnels in some hope that his exit wasn’t too far off.

The smell was bad before, but inside the stale air of the tunnel, it was almost searing. On top of that, he couldn’t see his past his nose, let alone his hand. He had no idea how long he had been trudging, but at some point he saw light coming from ahead. Not quite relief, but a small feeling of determination gripped him as he plowed on.

It was then he heard the beast.

He frantically slogged to the light, but as he got nearer, he realized that the sound came from in front of him, and that the echo had distorted the direction. This revelation struck him when he already was at the exit of the tunnel.

When Tom came into the area, it was a large chamber were multiple tunnels linked up, and a large pile of rubbish, filth, and bodies created something resembling a mound or nest in the center, just above the water line. The low growling hiss of the beast came from above him. “You’ve got to be--” Tom spat. He rolled just in time to avoid being pounced upon, and into the sewage water.

The beast circled as the injured Tom walked carefully, trying to make sure that his back was never to it. He had a weapon, a special revolver made for beast killing, but was hesitant to pull it. He knew the moment he reached for it that the beast would strike.

A sudden loud clang caught the beast’s attention for just half of a moment; long enough. Tom drew and shot the beast, and it belted a screaming howl. It would have likely torn Tom apart like his compatriots, if he hadn’t unloaded the entire cylinder into it. The beast lay dying in the water and filth. He walked to the beast, and drove his boot into its skull until he heard cracking. His small vengeance.

After this, he walked through the tunnels until he found the ending of a pipe as it emptied into the river. The sun was coming up now. As he stared at the dawn, he thought of Raul and Rog, and of the duty he was sworn to. “There are always more” Rog told him once, “and every dawn you see means that you’ll have one more to deal with”.

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