Post by Stu Pott on May 11, 2007 16:27:26 GMT -8
(Note: This is easily much shittier than Precipice)
“Yeah! Whoo!”
“This is fun! WATCH OUT!”
“Hahaha! Don't worry hunny, I got it under control!”
“No, WATCH OUT FOR THAT ANIMAL!”
“HOLY SH-”
Tom was an ordinary man, with a few extreme hobbies. For one, he loved trekking out into the desert with his dune buggy and skirting the sand. He was an adventurer for sure, but he really tried to not do anything that would put him in any danger. A confidant non-risk taker. A conundrum.
Well, Tom had a girlfriend. Her name was Janie. She was medium height, skinny brunette, she was hardly the pinnacle of physical fitness, but she could keep up with Tom, and thats all that mattered to her. All she wanted to do was make Tom happy, and so far, she accomplished this self imposed task quite well. She was content, and so was Tom, so things were good.
Tom decided one day that the two of them should go 'Dune'-ing together, as he so affectionately put it. So, they gathered their things, water, a little food, and some blankets for when it got dark, and they pulled out of Tom's driveway.
They reached the Dunes after about 30 minutes.
Tom had stopped at the gas station to put some extra gas in the gas tank, so they were now fully prepared, both ready to get going. When they got there, however, they met up with two friends, Brock and Veronica. Brock was Janie's friend from high-school, and Tom was always somewhat apprehensive and jealous around him whenever Janie was present. A traditional male inferiority complex. Brock had brought his own buggy, and was getting ready to go. How fortunate!
“Tom, you think that thing can keep up with mine?” Brock jeered.
“This 'thing' can outclass your hunka junk any day of the week, twice.” He responded. The two of them fired up the engines, and peeled out, Brock nearly throwing Veronica out of the dune as he gunned it. The two raced up over the first dune, cascading down the other side, wildly whipping down the dunes. Brock began to pull ahead, and soon, he was a full buggy length ahead of Tom. Tom cursed his machine, but kept up at this pace, Brock just slightly ahead.
They drove for miles, one chasing the other, until Brock pulled to a halt at the top of a Dune, nearly crashing his little buggy. He jumped out, his arms hanging at his side, desolately, a look of shock upon his face. He began to slip down the dune, one foot after the other as he tried to hold his balance. Tom pulled up next to his buggy and jumped out as well.
Thats when he saw it.
“Man, thats... I don't even know...”
“Come on... Lets get back to town, tell someone about it. There is nothing that we can do.” Tom said, grasping onto Brock's arm and pulling him gently back towards the top of the Dune.
They had found what looked like a crash. But, upon closer examination, it was obvious that it was more than just any old crash scene. The driver had been either ejected or torn from the front of the buggy and was thrown or drug ten feet forwards. However, this is where most of the similarities to a crash ended. The victims head had been ripped open, the face split in two, roughly, down the middle, to separate the two halves into something akin to a coconut after you split it open. The brain had been either eaten or dissolved, as it was no longer fully there, most of it gone. The jaw had been wrenched down, and the man's tongue was missing. His body had been torn to shreds, most of it missing or scattered about, as though a wild animal had torn into him, goring him. There were mostly bones well on their way to becoming bleached by the sun.
The buggy itself was completely destroyed. The insides had been shredded, and the motor was destroyed. The gas had spilled out and been soaked into the sand, and all that hinted at this was a slight discoloration around the buggy.
However, the most discomforting part was neither of these two things. Sure, the dead body was gruesome, and to think of what could do such a thing to a vehicle like that was a queasy though, what really was fearful was the other thing present.
Spiders.
And not just any spiders. These beasts were a good 1 - 1 1/2 feet long. Camel spiders, was their name, and they were nothing to balk at. They are venomous enough to kill a human, and large enough to kill most animals that inhabit the desert. Although predators, they normally didn't hunt humans, which gave this case a whole new severity.
A few dead carcasses were strewn about the accident scene, meaning the man had at least tried to defend himself. But still... Camel spiders didn't hunt in packs, let alone with this severity. There was something else at work here, and Tom did not want to stick around to see what. So, with a forceful pull, he dragged Brock back up the hill.
“Come on. We have to get back to town. I don't want to be out here when it gets dark.”
Dark...
They had driven for another two hours before the sun began to set. Tom gunned it harder to get it going. He smelled gasoline, but he didn't care; he wanted out of the desert as soon as possible. He drove on, until he heard his engine sputtering. The buggy careened to a halt, skidding up sand as he slammed on the brakes, trying to slow down, and control his vehicle. He grinded to a halt, and watched as Brock continued on, not stopping. He was gone before Tom hopped out of his buggy.
“That bastard!” he shouted, Janie looking on. She hadn't said much this trip to Tom. It was stressful enough, let alone she anger Tom unnecessarily. Yet, at this point she had to say something.
“He's shocked... he'll realize what he did and turn back... Whats wrong with the buggy anyways?”
“Engines overworked, and we've run out of gas. Shit!” He threw his wrench from his hand, which he had been using to try and fix what he could of the buggy.
“Well, then, we'll wait, or will we walk? And don't we have any extra gas?”
“Yeah, thats right, we do!” He ran to the back of the buggy, and pulled off the blankets and other supplies, only to get to the tank and find it drained. There was a hole in the bottom of it, where the gas had slowly but assuredly leaked out and left them with nothing.
“You've got to be kidding me.” Tom threw the tank, and stopped, his hands resting at his sides, his chest heaving in the breaths of anger. He stopped, breathed deep, and then held it as he heard something. Chittering. Clicking. Munching.
Tom turned towards Janie, and grabbed her wrist. He pulled her to the buggy, and threw her in, and immediately covered it with blankets. The chittering and chattering got louder as time drug on, and Tom and Janie held each other closely inside the buggy. Tom grabbed the wrench he had been using earlier and parted back the blankets. He looked outside, and saw nothing, but heard everything. It wasn't until he looked down that he truly felt afraid.
The ground was moving.
Janie gave out a startled cry, which Tom immediately covered her mouth to stifle it from getting louder. It was too late. The ground stopped wriggling, all the spiders stopping simultaneously. Then, the ground began to shake. Tom peeled back the blanket, and looked behind them over the engine.
A single spider, 6 feet long, lumbered towards them, obviously the queen, or king. Its chattering was slow and deliberate, as though to mock Tom. He looked up and said only one thing.
“Freak...”
Brock arrived back in town. He parked the buggy, leaving Veronica in it. She looked on at him quizically, but shrugged.
Brock continued through their house, towards his bedroom. He went to the drawer in the top right hand sock drawer, rummaging around inside and pulling out the piece he was looking for. He walked across the room towards Veronica's dresser, and rummaging around in her drawers, pulled out the clip he was looking for. He turned towards the TV on the stand, and threw it onto the news. He put the clip in the piece and with a deft move brought it to the side of his head. He fell after the report.
They say that news is 55 minutes of horror and bad news, and five minutes of good news. That was true for life, it seemed to. Except for the five minutes of good news.
“Yeah! Whoo!”
“This is fun! WATCH OUT!”
“Hahaha! Don't worry hunny, I got it under control!”
“No, WATCH OUT FOR THAT ANIMAL!”
“HOLY SH-”
~:~
Tom was an ordinary man, with a few extreme hobbies. For one, he loved trekking out into the desert with his dune buggy and skirting the sand. He was an adventurer for sure, but he really tried to not do anything that would put him in any danger. A confidant non-risk taker. A conundrum.
Well, Tom had a girlfriend. Her name was Janie. She was medium height, skinny brunette, she was hardly the pinnacle of physical fitness, but she could keep up with Tom, and thats all that mattered to her. All she wanted to do was make Tom happy, and so far, she accomplished this self imposed task quite well. She was content, and so was Tom, so things were good.
Tom decided one day that the two of them should go 'Dune'-ing together, as he so affectionately put it. So, they gathered their things, water, a little food, and some blankets for when it got dark, and they pulled out of Tom's driveway.
They reached the Dunes after about 30 minutes.
Tom had stopped at the gas station to put some extra gas in the gas tank, so they were now fully prepared, both ready to get going. When they got there, however, they met up with two friends, Brock and Veronica. Brock was Janie's friend from high-school, and Tom was always somewhat apprehensive and jealous around him whenever Janie was present. A traditional male inferiority complex. Brock had brought his own buggy, and was getting ready to go. How fortunate!
“Tom, you think that thing can keep up with mine?” Brock jeered.
“This 'thing' can outclass your hunka junk any day of the week, twice.” He responded. The two of them fired up the engines, and peeled out, Brock nearly throwing Veronica out of the dune as he gunned it. The two raced up over the first dune, cascading down the other side, wildly whipping down the dunes. Brock began to pull ahead, and soon, he was a full buggy length ahead of Tom. Tom cursed his machine, but kept up at this pace, Brock just slightly ahead.
They drove for miles, one chasing the other, until Brock pulled to a halt at the top of a Dune, nearly crashing his little buggy. He jumped out, his arms hanging at his side, desolately, a look of shock upon his face. He began to slip down the dune, one foot after the other as he tried to hold his balance. Tom pulled up next to his buggy and jumped out as well.
Thats when he saw it.
~:~
“Man, thats... I don't even know...”
“Come on... Lets get back to town, tell someone about it. There is nothing that we can do.” Tom said, grasping onto Brock's arm and pulling him gently back towards the top of the Dune.
They had found what looked like a crash. But, upon closer examination, it was obvious that it was more than just any old crash scene. The driver had been either ejected or torn from the front of the buggy and was thrown or drug ten feet forwards. However, this is where most of the similarities to a crash ended. The victims head had been ripped open, the face split in two, roughly, down the middle, to separate the two halves into something akin to a coconut after you split it open. The brain had been either eaten or dissolved, as it was no longer fully there, most of it gone. The jaw had been wrenched down, and the man's tongue was missing. His body had been torn to shreds, most of it missing or scattered about, as though a wild animal had torn into him, goring him. There were mostly bones well on their way to becoming bleached by the sun.
The buggy itself was completely destroyed. The insides had been shredded, and the motor was destroyed. The gas had spilled out and been soaked into the sand, and all that hinted at this was a slight discoloration around the buggy.
However, the most discomforting part was neither of these two things. Sure, the dead body was gruesome, and to think of what could do such a thing to a vehicle like that was a queasy though, what really was fearful was the other thing present.
Spiders.
And not just any spiders. These beasts were a good 1 - 1 1/2 feet long. Camel spiders, was their name, and they were nothing to balk at. They are venomous enough to kill a human, and large enough to kill most animals that inhabit the desert. Although predators, they normally didn't hunt humans, which gave this case a whole new severity.
A few dead carcasses were strewn about the accident scene, meaning the man had at least tried to defend himself. But still... Camel spiders didn't hunt in packs, let alone with this severity. There was something else at work here, and Tom did not want to stick around to see what. So, with a forceful pull, he dragged Brock back up the hill.
“Come on. We have to get back to town. I don't want to be out here when it gets dark.”
Dark...
~:~
They had driven for another two hours before the sun began to set. Tom gunned it harder to get it going. He smelled gasoline, but he didn't care; he wanted out of the desert as soon as possible. He drove on, until he heard his engine sputtering. The buggy careened to a halt, skidding up sand as he slammed on the brakes, trying to slow down, and control his vehicle. He grinded to a halt, and watched as Brock continued on, not stopping. He was gone before Tom hopped out of his buggy.
“That bastard!” he shouted, Janie looking on. She hadn't said much this trip to Tom. It was stressful enough, let alone she anger Tom unnecessarily. Yet, at this point she had to say something.
“He's shocked... he'll realize what he did and turn back... Whats wrong with the buggy anyways?”
“Engines overworked, and we've run out of gas. Shit!” He threw his wrench from his hand, which he had been using to try and fix what he could of the buggy.
“Well, then, we'll wait, or will we walk? And don't we have any extra gas?”
“Yeah, thats right, we do!” He ran to the back of the buggy, and pulled off the blankets and other supplies, only to get to the tank and find it drained. There was a hole in the bottom of it, where the gas had slowly but assuredly leaked out and left them with nothing.
“You've got to be kidding me.” Tom threw the tank, and stopped, his hands resting at his sides, his chest heaving in the breaths of anger. He stopped, breathed deep, and then held it as he heard something. Chittering. Clicking. Munching.
Tom turned towards Janie, and grabbed her wrist. He pulled her to the buggy, and threw her in, and immediately covered it with blankets. The chittering and chattering got louder as time drug on, and Tom and Janie held each other closely inside the buggy. Tom grabbed the wrench he had been using earlier and parted back the blankets. He looked outside, and saw nothing, but heard everything. It wasn't until he looked down that he truly felt afraid.
The ground was moving.
Janie gave out a startled cry, which Tom immediately covered her mouth to stifle it from getting louder. It was too late. The ground stopped wriggling, all the spiders stopping simultaneously. Then, the ground began to shake. Tom peeled back the blanket, and looked behind them over the engine.
A single spider, 6 feet long, lumbered towards them, obviously the queen, or king. Its chattering was slow and deliberate, as though to mock Tom. He looked up and said only one thing.
“Freak...”
~:~
Brock arrived back in town. He parked the buggy, leaving Veronica in it. She looked on at him quizically, but shrugged.
Brock continued through their house, towards his bedroom. He went to the drawer in the top right hand sock drawer, rummaging around inside and pulling out the piece he was looking for. He walked across the room towards Veronica's dresser, and rummaging around in her drawers, pulled out the clip he was looking for. He turned towards the TV on the stand, and threw it onto the news. He put the clip in the piece and with a deft move brought it to the side of his head. He fell after the report.
They say that news is 55 minutes of horror and bad news, and five minutes of good news. That was true for life, it seemed to. Except for the five minutes of good news.
