"Cabin of the Beast"
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dochermes"Cabin of the Beast"
(9/3/2000)
12/11/1989
Watching the cabin from behind the pine trees, Lou Winslow could not hold out any longer. He was hungry and cold, and his leg hurt from when he had jumped out of the van. Also, he had to get out of these orange Corrections Department clothess. Sourly, Winslow examined the revolver and found three bullets left. He only wished he had left a few in that fat deputy but no such luck.
No lights showed in the cabin as dusk fell. Parked outside was a beat-up dark Jeep Cherokee. Hah, there was his ticket back to the city. Shivering, he made his decision. If anyone was in that cabin, it was their tough luck. Winslow raced across the clearing to the back of the cabin. He wasn't tall but he was a solid block of hard muscle. Hundreds of hours of weight training in prison had done that. He kept his head shaven, showing a tattoo behind his left ear.
To his surprise, the door was unlocked and he was inside as easy as he could ask. He secured the door behind him, and after listening for a minute, switched on a light. The place was clean and neat, but austere to a ridiculous extent, with a plain wooden floor and two simple straightback chairs. A cordless phone sat in a charger but there was no other electronic equipment at all. Gun up beside his head, Winslow looked around warily. The bathroom was nothing special, and one corner of the single room had a sink and refrigerator but no stove.
The more he looked, the more this place worried him. It was just weird. No TV, no radio, no computer. Not even any magazines or newspapers. There was no bed anywhere. In one corner, by an oil-burning heater, was a rough pile of blankets and pillows. From it rose a bitter scent that repelled him. Seeing the refrigerator, Winslow rushed over and yanked it open. His last meal had been twelve hours earlier. Looking inside, his eyes bugged and he mouthed the words "what the" without actually speaking them.
There was nothing in there but raw meat. Packages of hamburger, chicken quarters and chunks of pork. He went to the cabinet over the sink and got another jolt. Three bags of dry dog food and some jugs of water. No utensils, no cooking supplies. Winslow noticed he was breathing heavily and he got hold of himself. Okay, whoever lived here was weird, but so what? What did he care? Maybe they trained dogs way out here in the woods. It didn't matter. He snatched a package of hamburger and looked around again. There had to be a frying pan here somewhere. A man couldn't live on raw meat and dog food.
From the corner of his eye, Winslow glimpsed movement outside. He moved to the window and what he saw outside made his heart almost stop beating. He had never been so close to have a stroke in his life.
Standing by the Jeep, sniffing the air, was a giant beast like a red-hided man seven feet tall, but with batlike wings and a ropy tail that whipped from side to side. Its head was that of a huge hound, ears standing upright, fangs gleaming in a long muzzle. Bright yellow eyes fixed on the cabin with obvious intelligence. The beast grinned. It swung around and loped for the front door.
Shaking like a man having a seizure, Winslow looked about wildly. No way out. There was just the one door, the windows were too small to climb through. He prayed sincerely as he had not done since childhood. As the door unlocked and opened, Winslow raised the revolver, but what would three slugs do against a beast like that?
The swung inward and a man came in, getting within a hair of being shot. "Oh, a guest?" he asked sardonically. This was a tall guy with blonde hair, wearing a neat business suit, and he seemed neither surprised nor uncomfortable with having an escaped convict point a revolver at him. He closed the door behind him.
"Don't make no noise, mister," Winslow said as he moved over to peer out the window. "Keep it down. Listen. Did you see that thing out there?"
"Thing?"
"That monster! An animal of some kind. Like a big red thing. It had wings and claws. It was by the jeep." Winslow's voice was getting higher. "You must have seen it!"
"A dog-headed demon with a red hide?" said the stranger. "I can tell you what it is. That beast is Gornak, a Kulan demon from the realm of Fanedral."
"What..? Is it dangerous?"
"Absolutely. The most dangerous creature you will ever meet, my friend. Gornak was a captain of the Red Slashers. He came to this world as a refugee." The blonde man stepped closer. "That was three years ago. Do you want to know more?"
Winslow did not understand anything this lunatic had said. He nodded, "Keep talking."
"Gornak was the only Kulan to live permanently in the real world. He made a deal with the Order of Tel Shai. If he could serve as a knight without killing people, he would be given privileges."
"Stop it. You're not making sense. That's a monster out there. I don't know what it is but with fangs and claws like that, it must be a killer. Do you have a rifle? A shotgun, maybe?"
The man was still smiling. "I'M in no danger."
"Now listen. Listen good. I got nothing to lose, there's thirty years hard time waiting for me. I don't aim to go back, whatever I gotta do. Your life is hanging by a thread, buddy."
"Oh. Let me tell you more," the smiling man went on. "Gornak became a knight and served well. He kept his vow but it was difficult. Kulan have been bred to kill for thousands of years. Finally he had to step down, but since he had served honorably, he was provided with this cabin and some money for supplies. Here in the Adirondacks, he can hunt game and sleep during the day and fly under the moon with no Human eyes to see. And of course, he remains on call, to be summoned if needed..."
"That's enough of that crazy talk! Shut up. Give me your keys and any money you got. I gotta get out of this place."
The blonde stranger took another step closer, almost touching the gun pointed at him. His eyebrows lowered as he grinned, giving him a remarkably sinister look. "Tel Shai gave Gornak a gift of illusion," he went on. "He can seem to be Human for a time, to walk among men. Do you understand now?"
Between fear of that beast still outside and the incomprehensible talk from the man, Winslow couldn't take it. He screamed and fired all three shots. The gunfire seemed deafening in the small enclosed space, but the stranger gave no sign he felt it. There was not a mark on him.
Lou Winslow panicked, jumping for the door. The air blurred and shimmered as the guise was dropped. Enormous in the small room, batwings folded at his back, the red demon caught the hysterical man in his huge paws.
"Surprise," said Gornak.
[9/3/2000- Rev. 4/3/2013]
(9/3/2000)
12/11/1989
Watching the cabin from behind the pine trees, Lou Winslow could not hold out any longer. He was hungry and cold, and his leg hurt from when he had jumped out of the van. Also, he had to get out of these orange Corrections Department clothess. Sourly, Winslow examined the revolver and found three bullets left. He only wished he had left a few in that fat deputy but no such luck.
No lights showed in the cabin as dusk fell. Parked outside was a beat-up dark Jeep Cherokee. Hah, there was his ticket back to the city. Shivering, he made his decision. If anyone was in that cabin, it was their tough luck. Winslow raced across the clearing to the back of the cabin. He wasn't tall but he was a solid block of hard muscle. Hundreds of hours of weight training in prison had done that. He kept his head shaven, showing a tattoo behind his left ear.
To his surprise, the door was unlocked and he was inside as easy as he could ask. He secured the door behind him, and after listening for a minute, switched on a light. The place was clean and neat, but austere to a ridiculous extent, with a plain wooden floor and two simple straightback chairs. A cordless phone sat in a charger but there was no other electronic equipment at all. Gun up beside his head, Winslow looked around warily. The bathroom was nothing special, and one corner of the single room had a sink and refrigerator but no stove.
The more he looked, the more this place worried him. It was just weird. No TV, no radio, no computer. Not even any magazines or newspapers. There was no bed anywhere. In one corner, by an oil-burning heater, was a rough pile of blankets and pillows. From it rose a bitter scent that repelled him. Seeing the refrigerator, Winslow rushed over and yanked it open. His last meal had been twelve hours earlier. Looking inside, his eyes bugged and he mouthed the words "what the" without actually speaking them.
There was nothing in there but raw meat. Packages of hamburger, chicken quarters and chunks of pork. He went to the cabinet over the sink and got another jolt. Three bags of dry dog food and some jugs of water. No utensils, no cooking supplies. Winslow noticed he was breathing heavily and he got hold of himself. Okay, whoever lived here was weird, but so what? What did he care? Maybe they trained dogs way out here in the woods. It didn't matter. He snatched a package of hamburger and looked around again. There had to be a frying pan here somewhere. A man couldn't live on raw meat and dog food.
From the corner of his eye, Winslow glimpsed movement outside. He moved to the window and what he saw outside made his heart almost stop beating. He had never been so close to have a stroke in his life.
Standing by the Jeep, sniffing the air, was a giant beast like a red-hided man seven feet tall, but with batlike wings and a ropy tail that whipped from side to side. Its head was that of a huge hound, ears standing upright, fangs gleaming in a long muzzle. Bright yellow eyes fixed on the cabin with obvious intelligence. The beast grinned. It swung around and loped for the front door.
Shaking like a man having a seizure, Winslow looked about wildly. No way out. There was just the one door, the windows were too small to climb through. He prayed sincerely as he had not done since childhood. As the door unlocked and opened, Winslow raised the revolver, but what would three slugs do against a beast like that?
The swung inward and a man came in, getting within a hair of being shot. "Oh, a guest?" he asked sardonically. This was a tall guy with blonde hair, wearing a neat business suit, and he seemed neither surprised nor uncomfortable with having an escaped convict point a revolver at him. He closed the door behind him.
"Don't make no noise, mister," Winslow said as he moved over to peer out the window. "Keep it down. Listen. Did you see that thing out there?"
"Thing?"
"That monster! An animal of some kind. Like a big red thing. It had wings and claws. It was by the jeep." Winslow's voice was getting higher. "You must have seen it!"
"A dog-headed demon with a red hide?" said the stranger. "I can tell you what it is. That beast is Gornak, a Kulan demon from the realm of Fanedral."
"What..? Is it dangerous?"
"Absolutely. The most dangerous creature you will ever meet, my friend. Gornak was a captain of the Red Slashers. He came to this world as a refugee." The blonde man stepped closer. "That was three years ago. Do you want to know more?"
Winslow did not understand anything this lunatic had said. He nodded, "Keep talking."
"Gornak was the only Kulan to live permanently in the real world. He made a deal with the Order of Tel Shai. If he could serve as a knight without killing people, he would be given privileges."
"Stop it. You're not making sense. That's a monster out there. I don't know what it is but with fangs and claws like that, it must be a killer. Do you have a rifle? A shotgun, maybe?"
The man was still smiling. "I'M in no danger."
"Now listen. Listen good. I got nothing to lose, there's thirty years hard time waiting for me. I don't aim to go back, whatever I gotta do. Your life is hanging by a thread, buddy."
"Oh. Let me tell you more," the smiling man went on. "Gornak became a knight and served well. He kept his vow but it was difficult. Kulan have been bred to kill for thousands of years. Finally he had to step down, but since he had served honorably, he was provided with this cabin and some money for supplies. Here in the Adirondacks, he can hunt game and sleep during the day and fly under the moon with no Human eyes to see. And of course, he remains on call, to be summoned if needed..."
"That's enough of that crazy talk! Shut up. Give me your keys and any money you got. I gotta get out of this place."
The blonde stranger took another step closer, almost touching the gun pointed at him. His eyebrows lowered as he grinned, giving him a remarkably sinister look. "Tel Shai gave Gornak a gift of illusion," he went on. "He can seem to be Human for a time, to walk among men. Do you understand now?"
Between fear of that beast still outside and the incomprehensible talk from the man, Winslow couldn't take it. He screamed and fired all three shots. The gunfire seemed deafening in the small enclosed space, but the stranger gave no sign he felt it. There was not a mark on him.
Lou Winslow panicked, jumping for the door. The air blurred and shimmered as the guise was dropped. Enormous in the small room, batwings folded at his back, the red demon caught the hysterical man in his huge paws.
"Surprise," said Gornak.
[9/3/2000- Rev. 4/3/2013]
