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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Sci-fi · #1344607
A shoet story with a compelling plot.
                The sudden movement of my lover awakens me. As if by some sort of magic, I am drawn to her eyes. Sparkling by the light of the fire, the deepness of her heart shows through the darkest amber eyes I have ever seen. They search me for a response.
         “What’s wrong?” I say.
         Out of frustration, she gives me a swift kick to the thigh. I look at her confused and find it hard to grasp what is wrong. As if knowing, she pats me on the head as a sign of reassurance. I let out a deep SIGH. The presence of moisture swirl in mid-air as my breath escapes my lips. I lose focus as the majestic rays of light emanating from within every droplet mesmerize me. As she stands, she quickly wraps a pelt around her naked body for warmth. She turns to leave and a “POP,” emitting from the slowly dying fire beside me, breaks my concentration. A hot coal flies through the air landing only inches in front of my son’s nose. He is now six and ready to learn how to hunt. I take a deep breath welcoming the new day. Gradually, I stand. My stomach growls in protest.  I grab some dried berries and try to nourish myself for the upcoming day. The sound of fingers running across leather catches my attention as she silently strides in. She carries a faggot neatly nestled in her arms. Gingerly, she bends over the fire and lights the tinder.
         I heed caution when approaching her. Reluctantly, she turns and accepts my hand, caressing her body as it follows the natural curve of her figure. I hold her and softly kiss the nape of her neck. As we stand there holding each other in a lover’s embrace, our son awakens. He greets us and the new day with a big smile and many questions.
         “Are you going to teach me to hunt today? Huh daddy, HUH!!!!?”
         “Yes, yes but first we must visit the caves”
         I grab some extra food, my bow and some arrows. Looking at the arrows, a laugh of sheer amazement pops out. These are the grandest arrows I have ever seen. I make sure to grab the knife that my son had sharpened; it would hurt him tremendously if it were forgotten. We say goodbye as we gather the last of out knickknacks, and head for the ancient caves. I am stopped mid-stride as she pulls me back into her loving arms. A gentle kiss and a strong reassuring  hug make me realize I have more waiting for me when I get back, only if I make it back.
         A short hike later, and I finally see the caves. We enter and walk back several feet until we see a bare wall. As we walk, I can hear my sons astonished gasp as he realizes the extent of the madness to come. All over the wall, there are scenes of brave men fighting giant beasts including the much feared big-toothed cat. The darkness surrounds us as we stand for several minutes. Slowly it evaporates leaving only the colorless outline of figures to be seen. I can see the ground I am standing on now. The ground, mushy in some spots, is primarily made from the winged rats that dwell deep in the cave. Defecating on the ground as they enter and exit, they add growth to the lifeless earth. Bending over I dig out a red porous rock from the remains. Taking out my knife, I gradually grind the whole stone to  powder, taking caution not to cut myself. I fish out a small bowl from my pouch of knickknacks. Made from the skull of a rabbit it is the perfect size, holding just the right amount of liquid. I make the concoction more viscous by adding saliva and stirring it with my index finger inside my makeshift bowl. Dipping my finger into the liquid I let it slowly glide off of the tips of my fingers. I coat the inside of my right hand and lay my other on the cold damp wall.
         “The outline of my hand indicates that I was here.”
         I put my right hand to my lips and gently blow the mixture on top of my left. Mimicking me he puts his hand up, and makes his mark right next to mine. Standing there me next to him, it hits me full force... I am a father I have an obligation to make sure nothing happens to not only him, but also myself. Without me he has no father to teach him how to be a man. A tear of joy rolls down my cheek, picking up speed in its effortless attempt to release itself from my body. I turn away, afraid that he might catch this. To my astonishment, I see a flock of springtime swallows trumpeting in unison at a previously undetected intruder.
         “Ugh, ugh” is all that I can understand as he tensely makes sound.
         Fearing for the life of my pride and joy, I notch an arrow into my bow and kneel down to steady my aim. As the man comes into view, I draw back, readying my shot. He makes his way into the opening of the cave. I freeze not knowing whether he can see me. With two more grunts and a wave of his wrist, he ushers others of his kind to follow him.
         He did not appear as I did, he was more compact. His meager figure only came to my chest. His arms and legs were considerably smaller than mine but he made up for that fact in the girth between his shoulders. His brow, significantly larger than mine, protruded out away from his face giving him the appearance of a mad man. His jaw jutted out as a monkey does to intimidate an opponent. Standing before me was a formidable man, that giving the chance could easily annihilate me. His appearance was so unlike mine that any lesser man would have cowered and fled in fear. 
         I could feel my son squirm as he tried to get a better view. As the man came closer I became fixed on the crude axe that hung at his waist. Without warning, the man stopped, sniffed the air, and yelled a horrible war cry. My instincts took over and I released my arrow. It landed dead center in the man’s thigh. He looked down at the arrow with amazement, pulled it out and started to examine it. As he was lost in thought, I grabbed my knife and rushed him. Slashing upward, I tore open his left side with my knife. I could hear it scrapping against his thick bones as I drove it further up his side. He did not scream. He did not cry. He merely reached for his side as he fell down to die. Standing there it occurred to me that he did not feel pain, or at least it was very little compared to mine.
         A shocking scream pierced the air as I looked up to see a woman and a small child running toward their fallen companion. I grabbed my son and made for the hills before anyone else got hurt. I would have kept running if not for my son.
         “Daddy look” he said as he stopped and tugged on my arm.
         Looking back, I did not see the monster that stood before me just seconds ago. I saw a family similar to mine kneeling down in front of their father. It occurred to me that these beings were much like me, even though they didn’t look anything like I do. They cried and grieved for what seemed like hours.  My son and I, for two totally different reasons, stood mesmerized the whole time while the small ritual took place.  My son was taken aback by this. I merely stood in utter amazement by how similar the ritual was to my kind. Eventually, the woman built a fire, then gathered rocks for the younger man to pile on top of the dead one.
         Nightfall came; the stench of death was in the air. A feral dog howled in the distance as if acknowledging the smell  my senses had detected. Where the man had lain, now stood a mound of rocks softly illuminated by the small fire the woman had made previously.  It was time to leave. My curiosity was outweighed by the thought of becoming dinner to one of the creatures within the wilderness.
         When I made it back to the woman I love, I lay down with her and take comfort in her breath, her unyielding love. I slowly drift in and out of consciousness. A wave of senses crash over me with a wake of emotion. The smell of drying blood in the air. The horrible screams of a grieving mother. The warmth of a steady flowing liquid runs down my arm. A small boy appears before me. As if time itself speeds up, the boy slowly stands and gradually ages in front of me. His face progressively becomes similar to the man I had slain today. Abruptly he disappears into nothing. I wake in a cold sweat. I cup my face in my hands as I lose myself in pity, noiselessly sobbing into myself. In my maddening passion to protect my own, I blindly took the life of an innocent, for it was not only the man that I had killed, I had also doomed the lives of his family.



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