I dug-up this piece from an old writing archive. The document is dated 2017, this is roughly when I was in high-school.
For the best experience while reading, play Timberwolf - by Muzzy
This document is in its purest, unaltered form, as it was in 2017.
Helpless distress fell onto my snowy midnight like a boulder on ice. I wander my naked self to the window that led to the wilderness of my farm only to be struck by yet another nightmare of the snow.
I turn to suit up for the trek. A heavy pelt jacket, boots and “big bertha”. The single silver bullet lay conveniently to my side, I load it and pump the lever, examining my craftsmanship to the bone as the fire of my work lay dormant in my worthless fingertips. Struggle continued to plague my ears and I made my way angrily to the door.
“Bruce!” I woke the dog and made a ruckus, banging my weapon on every whatnot around the wooden cabin.
The struggle seemed to stop as I wander beyond and into the depths of the dead woods, instead, paw prints and fresh blood were left in the wake of my fleeing foe. The snow was far too soft to run in but the desperation I had to meet such a valuable enemy fuelled my relentless climb into the unknown.
I kept on the tail of the lightless figure, watching as fresh tracks were swiftly brewed by its greedy paws. He was clearly a match for my speed but not for that of a bullet.
He was elegant in his stride for he knew the woods, weaving through every dreary branch and trunk like a snake on water. Like I, never did he think of quitting as the knee-high snow clearly took its toll.
The tunnel vision soon widened as the hill plateaued. The beauty of a field lined with not a single stripe of tree was a golden sight to the body that wishes to give in every cent to be back in its bed.
My stride weakened and became clumsy as I came to a halt, my breath speaking to the air in white whispers of smoke as I readied my firing hand to the carnival game. My vision lost track of the figure, only to see it climbing up the next hill - was and will-be resting place. The trees began again among the background of this forgotten mountain, this face of the earth being ignored for so long made it transpire a malicious wildlife. But the beauty to the observer breathes more than just life.
Between the two trees I saw it, faced side on and glaring at me.
Would it not run? Should I be afraid of the full moon?
Logic maliciously consumed my mind, I must rid of it. I thus raise the hand of death to my face and I squint down the barrel staring the rodent itself in its fat flesh.
Nothing around me phased my thought, I was one, independent, ruler…
For my hand was dead, I felt nothing but the trigger.
But his eyes - they twinkled at me… And again!
I am not grogged I swear, It’s as if he is taunting me!
It was then that I realised the twinkle. It wasn’t me, it was him!
I slowly lowered my weapon in awe as more twinkling figures dotted the ring of hills surrounding me. Their bodies clearly marked against the snow, ears pointed up and their bloodless faces ready to strike devastation into my ignorant soul.
My feet would never have struck the ground faster in the instant that horde stepped their first paw down onto the edge of that hill. Bruce left me for himself in the red distance of my vision as I never looked back onto my clumsy wake for I fear of seeing that vicious twinkle once more.
My stride was huge but my speed was obviously matched, the incline proved an advantage but was not enough to save my body from falling under the force of one of the haunting figures.
I toppled and rolled for my life, I locked the lead barrel into the beast's jaws as I saw not a twinkle but a fire from the gaping, corrupted mouth struggling in front of my pale and stricken face.
I fought my battle briskly, winning and getting up to continue my descent, seeing countless other figures heading straight towards me. I looked nowhere but somewhere down in my bloodied vision where my salvation would be, only soon to be hugged by the flat snow of my field.
For a moment I embraced its existence before returning to my reality, sitting up instantly to the meeting of the ghosts. In front of me lies a dead companion, my only company in these forsaken woods dripping down into the lifeless ravines of nothingness, leaving in his wake a red path of what was once sacred blood.
On his chest stand the true ruler of these white hills - black in coat.
All around me stand his acquaintances and friends, thinking heartless of me for what I became of myself.
I think I learned my lesson after hours of staring true death in its twinkling eye. The group swiftly departed back up the hill just as elegantly as they had chased me down.
Forever I will see envisioned the wrath of such a beautiful force, bury it I must not for I chose these creatures to be apart of me…