Jun 2012
The wolves are hungry again
I can hear them howling outside my window as I sleep
The blades of the ceiling fan hum and the cat by my feet purrs
Still their hungry moans prevail
Crying their grievances to the midnight moon
Sniffing and clawing at the ground
Anxiously awaiting their meal
I try and shut my ears in ignorance but they can sense this
So they howl louder
Like a choir of demons come from hell to collect the ******
Their haunting chant envelops the humid air
I can picture their vicious snouts snarling
Exposed fangs oozing drool as the thirst for meat grows
A pounding at my front door begins
They’re trying to get inside
Moments pass and I cannot breath
Only the taste of sweat on my lips reminds me I’m still awake
I hear a crash
The sound of splintered wood and twisting metal fills the house for a brief second
They’ve made through the door
My cat snaps from his sleep and dives under the dresser
They waste no time
I can already hear them strutting up the stairs
Paws causing a slight creak as they press to each step
My throat has contracted and sweat pours by the gallons down my forehead
The creaking stops
They’ve reached the top of the stairs
For a moment there is no sound but the humming fan
This is a moment suspended in limbo for an eternity
No thought, no breath, no fear
Just the hum of a fan
And then the sound of sniffing behind my bedroom door
I reach under my bed and grab a switch blade
Its false protection
It may take down one but they’ll all gang up on me
They’ll rip me and my cat to bits as the knife just falls to the floor
We won’t have a chance
They’re pounding at my door now
Not much longer
I can already feel their teeth sinking into my flesh
Blood spurting everywhere and staining their faces black and red
My cat screaming in agony
Both of us helpless
Another crash of splintered wood
They’ve made it through
There are four of them
Each faces huffing and smeared with slobber and wood chips
Eight yellow eyes staring back at me full of contempt and hunger
I clutch my knife prepared to die fighting
The alpha of the pack growls and crouches to leap
I hear my cat rustle from under the dresser
“NO!” I scream “save yourself!”
He darts out and stands on his hind legs
He’s holding a large pistol in his paws
He shouts “Die ******* wolves!”
Then begins firing
After a few seconds of loud blasts of gunfire all four of the wolves lie dead in a pool of blood
My cat drops the gun and jumps right back to his spot by my feet and falls asleep
He expects me to clean this up…
I can hear them howling outside my window as I sleep
The blades of the ceiling fan hum and the cat by my feet purrs
Still their hungry moans prevail
Crying their grievances to the midnight moon
Sniffing and clawing at the ground
Anxiously awaiting their meal
I try and shut my ears in ignorance but they can sense this
So they howl louder
Like a choir of demons come from hell to collect the ******
Their haunting chant envelops the humid air
I can picture their vicious snouts snarling
Exposed fangs oozing drool as the thirst for meat grows
A pounding at my front door begins
They’re trying to get inside
Moments pass and I cannot breath
Only the taste of sweat on my lips reminds me I’m still awake
I hear a crash
The sound of splintered wood and twisting metal fills the house for a brief second
They’ve made through the door
My cat snaps from his sleep and dives under the dresser
They waste no time
I can already hear them strutting up the stairs
Paws causing a slight creak as they press to each step
My throat has contracted and sweat pours by the gallons down my forehead
The creaking stops
They’ve reached the top of the stairs
For a moment there is no sound but the humming fan
This is a moment suspended in limbo for an eternity
No thought, no breath, no fear
Just the hum of a fan
And then the sound of sniffing behind my bedroom door
I reach under my bed and grab a switch blade
Its false protection
It may take down one but they’ll all gang up on me
They’ll rip me and my cat to bits as the knife just falls to the floor
We won’t have a chance
They’re pounding at my door now
Not much longer
I can already feel their teeth sinking into my flesh
Blood spurting everywhere and staining their faces black and red
My cat screaming in agony
Both of us helpless
Another crash of splintered wood
They’ve made it through
There are four of them
Each faces huffing and smeared with slobber and wood chips
Eight yellow eyes staring back at me full of contempt and hunger
I clutch my knife prepared to die fighting
The alpha of the pack growls and crouches to leap
I hear my cat rustle from under the dresser
“NO!” I scream “save yourself!”
He darts out and stands on his hind legs
He’s holding a large pistol in his paws
He shouts “Die ******* wolves!”
Then begins firing
After a few seconds of loud blasts of gunfire all four of the wolves lie dead in a pool of blood
My cat drops the gun and jumps right back to his spot by my feet and falls asleep
He expects me to clean this up…
