Post by J.O.N ((Dragonwing)) on May 4, 2013 3:26:04 GMT -5
((This is an unfinished story of mine. I decided to try a few new things with this including giving my characters a bit more of an elaborate vocabulary and writing characters I haven't tried before.))
Gootens Station, SA
James Bradshaw arrived on the eve of a dust storm. He could tell from the way the 40km/h winds were kicking up the sand into almost perpetual Whirly-Whirlies and had corrugated iron rooves screaming. As soon as he had stepped out of the beat up Holden pickup, it was all he could do to hold down his hat and keep the sand out of his eyes as he forced himself up to the old rusted gate and the entrance of the stations property.
“You’re going to need a better mask than a sleeve out here fella’.”
The fact the he could hear the voice so clearly in the screeching wind made James’s eyes snap up at a figure hunched over by the gate. Though it was hard to tell from the collection of rags the figure wore, he could tell it was an Aboriginal man; rotted, tarred teeth and gums showed through a disturbing grin. The man had hypnotically deep, black, eyes framed by a weathered face full of winkles. He couldn’t quite tell, but he got the impression that the man was laughing at him.
James’s reply was to just pull his leather coat closer around him and put his back down before pushing the gate open, its rusted cry barely heard. Struggling down the road he gave a quick glance back to see that the figure was gone. By now the wind had really picked up and walking was becoming a struggle as was breathing. Visibility was dropping quickly and it was all James could do to set a course and battle his way towards the veranda of the stations sole house. His steel cap boots found the steps for him and he ended up stumbling up on the wooden decking, now already covered in a layer of sand. Now in a rush to get out of the storm he slammed his body up against the sliding door and slammed his fist against it. No reply came and he wasn’t surprised, its occupants were long dead. That wasn’t of any help to him right now though and he tried to wrench the door open but it was not going to give.
Steeping back he raised his leg and slammed it against the door, only to be thrown off balance and land heavily in the sand on the decking. Completely covered in sand, he pulled himself back up and huddled against the door. He had to get out of the storm soon or it was likely he was going to end up dying outside. Just as he thought of trying to get around the back of the house there was a faint click of a latch giving way and the door slid open. Without even thinking about it, he dived in to the house and slammed the door shut behind him. Immediately as he entered the house the screeching of the wind became a dull howling along with the scratching of the sand on the exterior of the house.
Panting like mad and exhausted from fighting the wind, James took a second to slump against the door. Taking his hat off, he let the sand pour out of it before emptying his boots as well.
“It’s much easier if you just accept the sand and not fight it.”
Before the sentence could even finish James had already dropped his boot and pulled out a sawn-off shotgun from the inside of his coat. Both barrels were aimed at the sudden figure before him. It was the Aboriginal man from the gate.
“Who the fuck are you?” James growled, not daring to move.
The man just grinned at him and gave a slight bow before introducing himself. “The name is Wandi, just your typical homeless blackfella’.” As he spoke, his grinned didn’t diminish a bit and James’s got the impression that the man, Wandi, was forever laughing at him on the inside.
“Wandi, huh? And what would a homeless aboriginal be doing a hundred kilometres from the nearest town?” James’s asked still not moving his gun.
“Looking for a job of course, Thought there’d be some work out here. And from the looks of you I reckon’ I’m right.” James’s just glared at the man before shaking his head and lowering the gun. “You’re not just some homeless person,” he responded “Whoever you are I know you’re some sort of trickster.”
The aboriginal man replied with his ever insistent grin before extending his arm out from under the tattered coat that covered him and flicked his wrist. Behind James he heard the latch of the door drop in place. James raised an eyebrow and began to raise his gun again.
“No need to worry Gubbah’,” Wandi said, assuring James, “like I said, I’m here to help yah’.”
Gesturing to the boot on the floor, Wandi leaned against a countertop. Pulling his boot back on and placing his hat back on his head, James stood up and finally got a good look of the room he had stumbled into. It was the kitchen of the house with a counter dominating the middle. Around the edges of the room were pictures of a young family; a woman, man and young daughter. The kitchen itself was unremarkable with a walk in pantry, stove and microwave beside a sink.
“Gubbah? That’s slang for government man; you know who I am and why I’m out here.” James said as he put his gun away.
“Yep, you’re a lackey for that Federal Department on the Supernatural; I’m guessing they sent you out here after getting reports of that Nargun.”
“You know what it is then? I guess I can’t exactly get rid of you…” Sighing, James held out his hand towards Wandi. Taking it in his own, the two men shook an agreement.
“The reward is split fifty/fifty after we are done.” Wandi said with a slight twinkle in his eyes.
“There is no reward for this you daft idiot and you’re not getting a cut of my salary.”
Wandi just laughed in reply.
“Ok, the best bet is to split up here Gubbah, I’ll take outside since your soft skin will wilt in such harsh conditions. You check the inside here and be careful, the Nargun is a tricky devil.”
At that the two man parted ways, James with gun in hand began to make his way in to the houses interior. At the hallway entrance he began to pick up the scent of decay and death, coupled with the metallic tang of blood. It got stronger as he got closer to the bedroom. Stopping outside the door, he placed his ear to the hard, white wood and listened. Other than the wind and sand though, he couldn’t hear a thing. Bringing his gun up he slammed the door open and ducked in to the room. The stench made him almost immediately duck right back out. On the bed, or what was left of it, were two “corpses”, a better term would have been meat piles. The bed itself was soaked in their blood and just a mess of ripped mattress and human parts, as was the walls and carpet; the kills were relatively fresh since blood was still dripping down off the sides.
“Jesus fucking Christ…” Was all James could gasp as he began to scan the room.
Slowly, and while trying to hold down his breakfast, James made his way around the edges of the room. A soft sob caught his attention and drew his eyes to the walk in cupboard across from the bed. Ninety degrees from the cupboard was a window, outside all he could see was sand. Approaching the doors to the cupboard, also covered in blood, James steadied his gun. Standing to the side he slowly pushed the door in and glanced down at the corner. Shoved up in the corner, her arms wrapped around her legs, was the young girl in the picture. Short blonde hair and the small frame of a five year old; she was dressed in pink pajamas with butterflies on them. Slowly, James reached out with his free hand.
“Come here, it’s alright, I can get you out of here.” He whispered. In reply the girl stood up and began to reach out towards him, and slowly raised her face towards him; two blood red eyes stared out at him underneath her fringe.
“What the fuc-!”
At that moment the window exploded as a figure dived through it, tackling James hard. Two thing happened then; first the storm from outside roared in to the room, and the girls skin exploded off of her and a beast of mostly sharp claws and teeth ripped its way out of her. The force of the figures tackle only gave him a moment glance before he was dragged out of the way of the Beasts attack. The cupboard was nearly obliterated as the creature grew at a rapid rate and clawed its way out. Before James could stand up, the figure, which James managed to recognise as Wandi, grabbed him by the collar was hauling him down the hallway.
“What the fuck is that thing?!” James screamed as he was dragged along behind Wandi, surprised by the man’s strength.
“Nargun! D’-oot it!” The noise of the Nargun’s bloodcurdling roar made it hard for James to hear Wandi.
Entering the kitchen, James watched as the Beast ripped open the bedroom wall with four immense limbs, each wielding a collection of scythe like claws. The Nargun’s skin was hardly distinguishable from stone and pebbles and had a dull ochre colour to it which reminded James of the rocky outcrops in the area. Its body was long and snake like with the limbs used like a spiders, each used to pull itself down the hallway at incredible speed. The head of it was the most terrifying part though; the red eyes were the only parts that didn’t seem to be just a mouth, full of bladed teeth and gaping wide. The size of the Nargun easily beat James six foot, most likely a towering ten foot of its own.
Running on pure adrenaline, James managed to raise the barrels of his gun unleashed both shots straight into the horrifying maw. Time seemed to slow for a second and to James shock and as a slap to physics, the shotgun shot froze before the Beast and then just reverse direction straight back to James. Luckily the spread of the shot was wide and only a small fragment ripped through his jeans and cut his right leg. By now the Kargun had reached the kitchen door and was about to burst through when Wandi shouted something almost bird like and the doorway exploded in shadowy explosion of feather and shrieking. By the time the strange shadowy substance dissipated the Kargun was gone and a massive hole in the floor was all that remained.
“I told you not to shoot it!” Wandi said, and to James’s surprise the Aboriginal threw his head back and laughed.
“I couldn’t hear you over it- What the hell!? Did you know about the girl as well?!” James spat, his face a look of exasperation.
“Of course, I just know that people are better off learning from their experiences.” James’s could barely resist attacking the clearly deranged man.
“So, now what? I can figure by now that my gun is useless…” Wandi nodded, “any weapon brought against the Kargun is just reflected back at the fella’ that used it.”
“So, what was that you used on it?” James asked, mentioning to the door. “Nothing, I just hid the door from it,” Wandi merely chuckled at the confused look James gave him before continuing, “the Kargun is a Dreaming’ beast, it was cast out by the gods for terrible crimes.
James rolled his hand and signalled Wandi to elaborate.
“Aren’t you taught anything by your federal mob?” Wandi said, raising his eyebrows in what appeared to be genuine surprise. “When you lose your connection to the Dreamtime, your become incapable of seeing it and in the case of those cast out, it becomes deadly to associate with it.”
“Your magic, its Dreamtime magic isn’t it?” James said, knotting his eyebrows together at the implication. A few seconds tick by until he made the connection.
“You’re the Crow, the trickster god of the Aboriginals…”
