The face of the creature was very goat-like in the dimness of the surrounding woods. A deep seeded hunger waged war within its pale blue eyes as it stared upon the inhabitants of the small campsite. Its split tongue ran slowly over sharp incisors, saliva dripped freely from its mouth. What delicious little morsels.
That war being fought was for preservation. On the one hand the creature wanted to rush forward into the campsite and begin to rip and tear into the small family of four, but on the other hand what if while in the throws of feeding screams were made that would draw unwanted attention.
The creature growled low and deep, dear gods the hunger! It could practically taste the coppery bite of blood as it flowed over the tongue and filled the mouth before swallowing it down. It closed its eyes and savored the torment. Slowly it retreated back into the comforting darkness of the forest, one clawed hand digging deeply into the bark of the tree it hid behind, leaving lines of frustration into the bark of the tree as it receded into the gloom.
((In the Campsite))
“But daddy, ten more minutes please?!?” Christine pleaded. “I said no and I mean no. It’s time for bed and you’ve had enough s’mores for one night to choke a cow. Now get ready for bed. It’s getting late and we have an early morning.” The little girl pouted.
Smiling, Christine’s mother approached and scoped her up. “Come on sweetie, I’ll help you get ready for bed.” As she went to wash up her daughter she cast a brief look back at her husband, “Do be a dear and watch over your son so I can wash up Christine for bed?” Jacob sighed, “That’s a given. I’m not going to just sit here and neglect our son.” Kathie frowned and continued off to the campground’s public restroom.
Jacob watched his wife walk away. This camping trip was supposed to be fun and relaxing. A time to get that bond back that was missing between his wife and him, but it wasn’t working, or at-least it didn’t feel that way. He tossed another stick into the fire and glanced over at the car seat that his son was fast asleep in and he smiled briefly. He loved his family, but lately it seemed all Kathie and he did was argue and fight and it usually was over stupid and petty things.
((Five months prior. . .))
I looked up at the sky and tried to peer around the dense tree canopy. It was getting late and I had been lost on the hiking trails for around five hours now, they were famous for their camping trails, best ones in the western United States, or so they said.
I had been out of water for about five hours and my throat was as dry as the Mojave Desert and the trail-mix wasn’t helping matters much either, not even to cut my hunger pains. But I was a stubborn son of a bitch, so I pressed on.
Some time later I stumbled and fell against a tree and cursed my damnable luck. Although the tree had broken my fall, something had ripped my cargo pants and had broken the skin just below the kneecap.
Bleeding like a stuck pig, I opened my backpack to get out the first-aid kit. I limped over to a nearby rock and began to wash the wound with peroxide and watched as it foamed up around the wound. The peroxide mingled with the blood and flowed down my leg in a thin pale crimson trickle. It stung a little but I was absolutely no stranger to pain, I patted it dry with a clean piece of gauze and then smeared a generous amount of antibiotic ointment on the wound, I then began to wrap it in fresh gauze and topped it off with an elastic bandage.
Once that was all taken care of I replaced the items into the first-aid kit and stood up, testing my weight on my wounded leg. There was a slight tingling and soreness to it, but that could be quickly remedied.
I fished around in my right front pocket and took out a small baggie of oblong white pills and took out two. They were a generic brand of Vicodin called Watson 540 that I bought from a guy at work. I popped those and dry swallowed them. In about half an hour I wouldn’t be feeling a thing.
I stood there for a moment and took a look around and spotted the culprit that ripped my favorite cargo pants. It appeared to be a long piece of black stone, it was jagged and seemed to be very sharp. I touched the tip and quickly regretted it, sure enough, it was sharp as any knife I ever saw. My blood coated most of the stone and there also seemed to be some other sort of fluid on it. It was milky white and thick by the looks of it, but I didn’t care to examine it any further. Cursing again I spoke out loud, “Great job Joseph, what fresh hell is this?!?” I resigned to press on and worry about that later.
Half an hour passed by without incident and I began to feel the effects of the Watson’s kicking in. I stopped and unzipped to relieve myself, surprised to find that I had to urinate at all, when I noticed something odd. That sharp stone from earlier. I furrowed my brow, “That can’t be” I said to myself.
I leaned in for a closer look and saw that the stone had dried blood on it. “Shit, I’m going in circles!” I glanced around in the gathering gloom.
The trail was overgrown in places and it really wasn’t even a trail to begin with, more an animal path.“Goddamn it all!” I spied another animal path and decided to go down that, maybe that would lead somewhere with fresh water to drink, so I got going down the new path.
Oftentimes animal paths lead to a food source or to a water supply, hopefully this one would lead me to the latter.
After awhile I heard the distant soft sound of water flowing and a smile crossed my dry cracked lips. I hurried down the trail and burst into a small hidden clearing.
There in the center was a stream that snaked around a moss covered flat stone. The stone looked much like a low table with no legs and it had a few objects resting upon it.
As I drew near to the stone and the stream the objects came into clearer view. There was an earthenware cup, and an odd looking knife with a rough chiseled black blade, the handle looked to have been made with a deer antler.
The blade looked much like the stone I had cut myself on earlier. The whole scene made me a little uneasy, but I was thirsty and there was that stream of rushing water that looked so refreshing and inviting, I throw caution to the winds. I could use that cup to gather up some water from the stream and quench my thirst.
I grabbed up the cup and looked inside it, ready to rinse it out if it had leaves or dirt in it, only to find that the cup was already half full. I gave it a sniff, like one would do if they were testing to see if the milk had gone bad. The aroma that came to me was earthy and slightly sweet, with just the touch of something stale or stagnant, honestly I didn’t really care, it could very well be rain water from two days ago when the sky opened up and sent forth a deluge that would put Noah’s flood to shame.
Thirst was overriding any sense of caution, so I raised the cup to my lips without any further preamble and let the cool wet fluid wash over my tongue and down my throat. It was sweet tasting and not bitter at all, unlike the aroma that I first detected would lead me to believe, and oh my God was it refreshing!
I took another drink and finished off what was left within the cup, draining every last drop. I even slapped the bottom of the cup to make sure I got it all. I wiped my mouth and chin off on my shirt sleeve and turned my gaze to my surroundings.
All along the perimeter of the clearing were black stone monoliths, spaced out haphazardly with no rhyme or reason and varying in size from around three foot tall to as large as eight foot tall. But in the fading light I couldn’t tell much more about them.
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