Friday, February 13, 2015

The Nosferatu Adventures S7 p11

The Nosferatu Adventures
page 189, chapter 189

His dreams were weird, nearly random as images of stairs floating above him filled his mind. Jumbled with scenes of fire engulfing the forest. He saw himself running through the smoke and flames, searching for something that he just could not get a scent on. Unable to shift from man to wolf, trapped in his own sense of panic. His grandmother appeared out of nowhere, wrapping a sweater around his shoulders telling him not to worry about the broken dishes. Shaking his head he screwed up his nose, as his grandmother had been dead since he was four. She shoved him into a doorway which led to a stage where his brother Harker was in the middle of a performance of Hamlet. Covering his eyes against the lights of the stage, Dagan continued on to the far side, finding himself once again in the forest, with nothing but dead trees.

"Get off me...not in the mood..." Dagan mumbled as he felt the warm tongue licking his face, whimpering filling his ears. Tombstone was beside him, howling and nudging him with his muzzle, a dirty paw heavy on Dagan's chest. Rolling over, the auburn haired male made a face as the hellhound's hot breath hit his cheek. "Dude you really need a mint flavoured milk-bone." he sat up finding himself tangled in a clump of half dead grass, about a mile from his uncle's vineyard. "How the hell did I get here?" He swore as his left palm landed on something sharp. There was a small wooden figurine on the ground beside him, broken now from having leaned on it. Picking up the fragments, he saw it had been a moose. "You hungry? I'm hungry." he said to Tombstone as he got to his feet, letting out another howl of pain. The dog jumped in a circle licking his chops as he waited for Dagan to lead the way. "Please tell me you carried me..." he stumbled for a second trying to get his barrings. Sniffing, he caught the scent of burning trash coming from the east, as he looked down at the creature. He knew Tombstone being supernatural didn't grow at the normal speed. But, given the half timber wolf -half hellhound had been a puppy only hours before, the werewolf was in near shock to see the animal had doubled in size. At this rate, he'd be full grown by morning.
The hellhound barked his nose now to the ground as he headed off in the direction of the vineyard. "No No No!" the male said gesturing to the creature. Tombstone sat waiting, his tail wagging. "We're not going there. Don't even think about it." Dagan scratched his right thigh. "There's nothing to eat around here either." he sniffed deeply coughing as the thick haze of burning leaves began to irritate his nose. Sneezing twice, the werewolf looked around, seeing nothing to indicate how he arrived there. "This way kid." he turned heading back towards the small Inn he knew was on the edge of town. Having spent a year at the vineyard after his parent's death, Dagan learned every inch of the area. Tombstone howled again as if to whine about the decision  "Oh you think arguing with me will work huh?" the werewolf raised his chin challenging the animal. Tombstone made a sound as he lowered his own head, resting it on his paws. "Don't try to look cute. Cute doesn't work on me. I've got a heart of stone."
Tombstone whimpered again, his eyes becoming soft as he begged. Letting out a sigh, Dagan threw his hands up over his face kicking at the dirt. "Shack!"  The tall male stomped back and forth for a few long seconds, biting his lip as he mumbled to himself. "Fine! Fine! We'll go to the damned vineyard. But just so you know, you pull this crap on me again and you're getting neutered." he pointed at the creature before heading in the direction of the vineyard.

Tune in again for another installment of the Nosferatu Adventures starring your (straight up story. I am mad north north west. When the winds are southerly I know a hawk from a handsaw. -Hamlet)

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