Post by Vincent Augustine on Nov 28, 2018 21:25:19 GMT -5
Vincent woke to the howls outside his tent, a predator was close and no doubt smelt the food he had hung from a nearby tree. He once heard someone say you have to hang your food from a tree when camping in the woods, but that was so long ago he couldn’t remember who had said it. Then again maybe he just imagined it, this day and age it was hard to separate the reality from the false in the world around him. Either way it was, right now there was a predator outside his tent and it probably wanted the food in the bag hanging from the tree nearby.
Pulling in a deep breath, Vincent steadied his mind and tried to push through the fog that filled his mind, trying so desperately to grasp what had been lost for the last three months, his sanity. He pulled the zipper down, flipped the flashlight in his hand on, and scanned the area. In the darkness there shined a set of green glowing eyes that glistened every time the light passed over them. The predator had heard him and taken a position of defense in the nearby shrubbery. With a quaint smile, Vincent stepped out of the tent and moved slow and deliberate for the bag of food, cutting it down and setting the bag on the ground.
With both hands and a steady eye on the eyes in the bushes, Vincent reached into the bag and withdrew a piece of dried meat. He held it in his right hand and stretched it out for the animal. Silence filled the air and for what felt like a long moment he sat, neither Vincent nor the predator in the bushes moving. Then it happened, the bush swayed and the eyes moved forward, emerging from the shrubs was the largest wolf that Vincent had ever seen. It was easily over 200 pounds, no doubt from feasting off of camper’s food in the woods.
“That’s it boy.” Vincent encouraged the animal as it cautiously inched forward, the smell of food and a meal overtaking its fear. The nose bounced as it sniffed the air, and the hiss of the breathing brought a smile to Vincent’s face. The wolf inched closer and a glint on the neck caught the eye of Vincent, it had a caller on. ‘curious’ he mused under his breath as the wolf inched further forward, it’s nose twitching as it smelled the air for the meat. It was so close now Vincent could feel each breath as the wolf smelled for the meat.
Finally the wolf pressed its nose to the meat and proceeded to grab it from Vincent’s hand and then immediately rush off to the bushes, but not before Vincent could catch a glimpse of the nametag on its neck. It simply read ‘JAMES’ he mouthed the word as he pondered the situation for a full minute. “Who the fuck names a wolf James, even better who the fuck has a wolf as a pet?” Vincent reached into the bag, grabbed another piece of salted and dried meat and tossed it on the ground before closing the bag and returning it to the rope hanging from the tree.
As he pondered the situation, the wolf’s name, the fact that there was a wolf in the first place, and the current mental state he knew he was in, Vincent saw the wolf snatch the second piece of meat off the ground. Shaking his head and slightly confused Vincent returned to his tent, shut off the flashlight and zipped up the entrance. With extra effort Vincent pushed the incident from his mind and laid down to sleep, his mind foggy, and his thoughts beginning to betray him. Pushing to be as coherent, as in control as he was for that short period took it out of him, and he needed to rest.
Morning brought a cool damp stillness with it. Vincent awoke to find the tent covered in dew, and the ground nearly saturated. His mind lingered on the night before, and his eyes shot to the bag. ‘Was it a dream?’ he thought half aloud, his lips moving as he pondered it. His answer came shortly thereafter, the feint yells of a young boy in the distance. “JAMES!” the boy was yelling, the wolf must have been his, or was this James a person whom Vincent mistook for a wolf? Given the current state of his mind all was possible, or none of it at the same time.
Shaking his head and pushing the events of the night away, Vincent went about starting his fire, and percolating his cup of coffee. He sat upon a log and sipped the hot beverage with a smile, the caffeine helping to wake him up and clear his mind. “JAMES!” the young boys rang out, closer to camp now, and Vincent took notice. He sat motionless like a moron for a good 15 minutes as he listened, as if listening and sitting motionless would hide the smoke rising from the damp fire wood that was burning before him.
Then as if on cue a young boy strode out of the forest and into Vincent’s camp. He stood maybe five feet tall with curly brown hair and dirt covering his entire body. He had clearly been searching for his lost pet for hours, and a part of Vincent felt bad for him, for he had seen the wolf in the middle of the night. “Pardon me sir, but I have misplaced my pet, have you seen him?” The boy asked, his eyes darted around, a certain sense of fear in them.
“I saw him last night, fed him some salted and dried meat that he had smelt in my bag there.” Vincent pointed to the bag and took a sip of his coffee.
“You sure it was him?” The boy asked, the fear still there, but an underlying excitement filled the back of his eyes.
Vincent nodded as he took a sip of the coffee. “Saw the nametag on his neck, hard to miss given the size of that wolf.”
“Wolf?” The kid asked, face filled with confusion.
“Kind of scary looking if you ask me, but then it was the middle of the night and he was hungry, not to mention I was tired.” Vincent chuckled as he finished off the cup of coffee.
“Aw James is a pushover, he wouldn’t hurt a fly. Might pretend to be all big and tough, but deep down he’s a softy.” The boy replied. “Would you help me find him?” The boy asked.
“Under normal circumstances I would, but today, I have bigger plans.” Vincent stretched for the sky, his back cracking multiple times, and his muscles working to pull him back to normal posture. “I have my own wolf to find.” He winked at the boy and moved for the tent.
“Maybe finding this one will help you find the one you are looking for.” The boy asked, his fear had left; he was speaking with a confidence that betrayed the initial meeting. For a moment Vincent caught it, then the fog came, his mind became cloudy and his thoughts became muddled in the mess and chaos of thought.
“Who are you?” Vincent managed to ask, and then it was gone, the sanity had given way to the monster in his mind. “Let’s find James.” Vincent said with a change of voice, the cocky confidence had been replaced by what seemed like only pure anger.
“Jake.” The boy said extending his hand. The fear had returned, no doubt caused by the change in Vincent. Anyone could have seen the change, it was like two different men were controlling the same body, and this one didn’t appear nearly as friendly.
Although he took the boys hand, Vincent didn’t say anything, just pointed to the bushes where the wolf had appeared and started moving that way. Kneeling down, Vincent picked up the dirt and rubbed it between his fingers. “This way.” He said tossing the dirt to the side and striding off into the woods, the young boy Jake in tow.
Moving low and slow, the two came to a stop and Vincent pointed to the ground. “You think that’s his foot print?” Jake asked. Vincent simply nodded, not taking note that it was small, way too small to be the print of the animal that he thought he saw the night before. “I promise, James is such a good pet, he’s the perfect pet really. You can yell at him, tell him mean things, and all the time he comes back wagging his tail, ever ready to please you, just as long as you pet him and throw him a bone every once in a while.”
Even with the damp ground, Vincent had no problems tracking the tracks, in a way they seemed to almost help. The two worked through the woods to a clearing, and the tracks disappeared, the ease clearly gone. “Great we lost it!” Jake exclaimed in sadness. “JAMES! You fucking moron come back, I know you think you deserve better, but you are getting exactly what you deserve, and ass whooping when I find you!” Jake yelled, and Vincent looked at him with confusion.
Something moved in the distance and Jake ran off. “Wait!” Vincent yelled, but it was too late, Jake was half way across the clearing, Vincent five steps behind him. They came to a stop at the point of movement. “This James, why do you talk to him like that?” Vincent asked.
“What do you mean?” Jake asked.
“One might say you are kind of abusive to your wolf.” Vincent had faded back into the calm version of himself, his mind had cleared a bit, and the boy could see it.
“Look, you treat your pets how you want, the reality is James is nothing more than a pet, a fucking piece of shit that is sent out and meant to run to the end of its chain and bark. At the end of the day it’s nothing more, nothing less.” Jake smiled as he watched the face on Vincent change, he still didn’t know the man’s name, but he understood him, of course he was told what to expect. Both men stood there, Vincent reverting to the man clouded with thoughts, and Jake smiling, in silence for minutes.
Finally movement in the brush drew their attention. “There, be quiet.” Jake said. “Remember James will come at you, he will bark, he will howl, but at the end of the day he’s just a pet, meant to strike fear in people, to scare them but only until they see who he really is.” Vincent nodded in response and the two began to creep forward.
Sudden movement in a shrub to the left showed them the way, and they both continued to track the animal. They crept along, following every paw print they came a cross, Vincent growing more angry, his mind jumping back and forth between the hunt and the future, his thoughts on the Wolf he had to come face to face with.
Under a tree log the two stopped and Vincent pointed at some tracks in the dirt. “He’s going this way, not moving too fast.” His eyes were wide, the hunt was beginning to thrill him, and the adrenaline was pushing the cloud in his mind thicker, giving the monster inside more control.
“Come on!” Jake yelled as he jumped the log and half ran crouch walked after the tracks, Vincent trailing a short distance behind him. “He can’t be too far away, the tracks are close together.” Jake said.
“Knocking on a tree from Jake caused Vincent to snap out of the funk that had taken his mind. Vincent had stopped far behind Jake and was staring at the ground, as if pondering something, but the only thing on his mind was rage, and excitement. The knocking had brought Vincent back to the reality of what was taking place, and the excitement had taken him over again as he ran after Jake who was more than 20 paces ahead of him.
“Stop!” Jake forcibly whispered as Vincent came close. That’s when Vincent realized he was taking orders from a kid.
“You want your Wolf back, then we are going to do this my way.” Vincent stood up and pushed into the brush where the movement that had made Jake stop was coming from. A moment later Vincent stood back up with a small Chihuahua in his hands, the name tag on it reading James. “What the fuck is this?”
“That’s James, my pet dog, or Wolf as you called it.” Jake announced proudly. “You found it.”
Vincent shook his head, trying desperately to clear his mind, but the fog grew stronger, his anger building. “This is your fucking Wolf, this is James?!” He yelled into the air. “I was worried about this fucking thing?” Vincent held it up by the scruff of the neck, the trembling animal trying to escape.
“Yeah that’s James.” Jake said. “My pet dog.”
“Is this a joke?” Vincent asked. “Do you know who I am and are playing some kind of sick joke on me?”
Jake shook his head in response. “No joke.” He said.
“Fuck you, this damn thing was meant to be some stupid metaphor for James Wolf wasn’t it?” Vincent stared at the boy.
“What do you mean?” The boy asked, confusion filling his voice.
“You fucking assholes had a giant wolf outside of my camp with the same name tag on it, and then you showed up and pretended like your pet was a wolf, knowing full well what happened the night before. You caged up the real wolf and put the collar on this piece of shit and had me help you hunt it down.” Vincent shook the dog at him. “DIDN’T YOU!” Vincent yelled, shaking the dog.
“Mister you have lost it.” Jake said.
“Don’t sell yourself short boy.” Vincent lowered the dog, still grasping the scruff of its neck. “You almost had me, the whole metaphor and the way you talk to your dog. I get it now, I mean it’s pretty damn good, James is a bitch, a small dog that does run to the end of his chain and bark, you were right. Hell you should take pride in the charade, it was well thought out.” Vincent let out a half smile, and then the anger crept back in.
“Can I have my dog back?” Jake asked, a shake of fear in his voice.
“This dog?” Vincent held up the dog. “Your metaphor for James Wolf? Let me show you what happens to James Wolf in a few days, let’s finish the metaphor if you will.” Vincent winked, held up the dog and stared into its eyes. “James, you will run and bark, tell me how great you are, sell yourself to the world, but at the end of the day you have to get into the ring, and show the world the truth. You are nothing more than a small dog in a big dog’s world. Though you don’t see it now, you’re picking a fight with a bigger dog, and hungrier dog. And when you pick a fight with the wrong dog you lose, just like now!” Vincent laughed and slung the dog into the air.
Jake took off running, his eyes on the Chihuahua as he flew through the air gracefully. With the flying dog almost in arms reach, Jake stretched out his arms, but a rock took his footing and he fell face first to the ground, the only solace that he didn’t have to see the dog land, only hear it, and the whimper that escaped it. “Some lessons come with a cost. You can deny reality, you can even play make believe, but you found out what James will find out in a few days. In the end your truth and lies all add up to one thing, a gut punch by reality.” Vincent winked and walked off back to his camp, the boy left crying as the rain began to come down.
Pulling in a deep breath, Vincent steadied his mind and tried to push through the fog that filled his mind, trying so desperately to grasp what had been lost for the last three months, his sanity. He pulled the zipper down, flipped the flashlight in his hand on, and scanned the area. In the darkness there shined a set of green glowing eyes that glistened every time the light passed over them. The predator had heard him and taken a position of defense in the nearby shrubbery. With a quaint smile, Vincent stepped out of the tent and moved slow and deliberate for the bag of food, cutting it down and setting the bag on the ground.
With both hands and a steady eye on the eyes in the bushes, Vincent reached into the bag and withdrew a piece of dried meat. He held it in his right hand and stretched it out for the animal. Silence filled the air and for what felt like a long moment he sat, neither Vincent nor the predator in the bushes moving. Then it happened, the bush swayed and the eyes moved forward, emerging from the shrubs was the largest wolf that Vincent had ever seen. It was easily over 200 pounds, no doubt from feasting off of camper’s food in the woods.
“That’s it boy.” Vincent encouraged the animal as it cautiously inched forward, the smell of food and a meal overtaking its fear. The nose bounced as it sniffed the air, and the hiss of the breathing brought a smile to Vincent’s face. The wolf inched closer and a glint on the neck caught the eye of Vincent, it had a caller on. ‘curious’ he mused under his breath as the wolf inched further forward, it’s nose twitching as it smelled the air for the meat. It was so close now Vincent could feel each breath as the wolf smelled for the meat.
Finally the wolf pressed its nose to the meat and proceeded to grab it from Vincent’s hand and then immediately rush off to the bushes, but not before Vincent could catch a glimpse of the nametag on its neck. It simply read ‘JAMES’ he mouthed the word as he pondered the situation for a full minute. “Who the fuck names a wolf James, even better who the fuck has a wolf as a pet?” Vincent reached into the bag, grabbed another piece of salted and dried meat and tossed it on the ground before closing the bag and returning it to the rope hanging from the tree.
As he pondered the situation, the wolf’s name, the fact that there was a wolf in the first place, and the current mental state he knew he was in, Vincent saw the wolf snatch the second piece of meat off the ground. Shaking his head and slightly confused Vincent returned to his tent, shut off the flashlight and zipped up the entrance. With extra effort Vincent pushed the incident from his mind and laid down to sleep, his mind foggy, and his thoughts beginning to betray him. Pushing to be as coherent, as in control as he was for that short period took it out of him, and he needed to rest.
Morning brought a cool damp stillness with it. Vincent awoke to find the tent covered in dew, and the ground nearly saturated. His mind lingered on the night before, and his eyes shot to the bag. ‘Was it a dream?’ he thought half aloud, his lips moving as he pondered it. His answer came shortly thereafter, the feint yells of a young boy in the distance. “JAMES!” the boy was yelling, the wolf must have been his, or was this James a person whom Vincent mistook for a wolf? Given the current state of his mind all was possible, or none of it at the same time.
Shaking his head and pushing the events of the night away, Vincent went about starting his fire, and percolating his cup of coffee. He sat upon a log and sipped the hot beverage with a smile, the caffeine helping to wake him up and clear his mind. “JAMES!” the young boys rang out, closer to camp now, and Vincent took notice. He sat motionless like a moron for a good 15 minutes as he listened, as if listening and sitting motionless would hide the smoke rising from the damp fire wood that was burning before him.
Then as if on cue a young boy strode out of the forest and into Vincent’s camp. He stood maybe five feet tall with curly brown hair and dirt covering his entire body. He had clearly been searching for his lost pet for hours, and a part of Vincent felt bad for him, for he had seen the wolf in the middle of the night. “Pardon me sir, but I have misplaced my pet, have you seen him?” The boy asked, his eyes darted around, a certain sense of fear in them.
“I saw him last night, fed him some salted and dried meat that he had smelt in my bag there.” Vincent pointed to the bag and took a sip of his coffee.
“You sure it was him?” The boy asked, the fear still there, but an underlying excitement filled the back of his eyes.
Vincent nodded as he took a sip of the coffee. “Saw the nametag on his neck, hard to miss given the size of that wolf.”
“Wolf?” The kid asked, face filled with confusion.
“Kind of scary looking if you ask me, but then it was the middle of the night and he was hungry, not to mention I was tired.” Vincent chuckled as he finished off the cup of coffee.
“Aw James is a pushover, he wouldn’t hurt a fly. Might pretend to be all big and tough, but deep down he’s a softy.” The boy replied. “Would you help me find him?” The boy asked.
“Under normal circumstances I would, but today, I have bigger plans.” Vincent stretched for the sky, his back cracking multiple times, and his muscles working to pull him back to normal posture. “I have my own wolf to find.” He winked at the boy and moved for the tent.
“Maybe finding this one will help you find the one you are looking for.” The boy asked, his fear had left; he was speaking with a confidence that betrayed the initial meeting. For a moment Vincent caught it, then the fog came, his mind became cloudy and his thoughts became muddled in the mess and chaos of thought.
“Who are you?” Vincent managed to ask, and then it was gone, the sanity had given way to the monster in his mind. “Let’s find James.” Vincent said with a change of voice, the cocky confidence had been replaced by what seemed like only pure anger.
“Jake.” The boy said extending his hand. The fear had returned, no doubt caused by the change in Vincent. Anyone could have seen the change, it was like two different men were controlling the same body, and this one didn’t appear nearly as friendly.
Although he took the boys hand, Vincent didn’t say anything, just pointed to the bushes where the wolf had appeared and started moving that way. Kneeling down, Vincent picked up the dirt and rubbed it between his fingers. “This way.” He said tossing the dirt to the side and striding off into the woods, the young boy Jake in tow.
Moving low and slow, the two came to a stop and Vincent pointed to the ground. “You think that’s his foot print?” Jake asked. Vincent simply nodded, not taking note that it was small, way too small to be the print of the animal that he thought he saw the night before. “I promise, James is such a good pet, he’s the perfect pet really. You can yell at him, tell him mean things, and all the time he comes back wagging his tail, ever ready to please you, just as long as you pet him and throw him a bone every once in a while.”
Even with the damp ground, Vincent had no problems tracking the tracks, in a way they seemed to almost help. The two worked through the woods to a clearing, and the tracks disappeared, the ease clearly gone. “Great we lost it!” Jake exclaimed in sadness. “JAMES! You fucking moron come back, I know you think you deserve better, but you are getting exactly what you deserve, and ass whooping when I find you!” Jake yelled, and Vincent looked at him with confusion.
Something moved in the distance and Jake ran off. “Wait!” Vincent yelled, but it was too late, Jake was half way across the clearing, Vincent five steps behind him. They came to a stop at the point of movement. “This James, why do you talk to him like that?” Vincent asked.
“What do you mean?” Jake asked.
“One might say you are kind of abusive to your wolf.” Vincent had faded back into the calm version of himself, his mind had cleared a bit, and the boy could see it.
“Look, you treat your pets how you want, the reality is James is nothing more than a pet, a fucking piece of shit that is sent out and meant to run to the end of its chain and bark. At the end of the day it’s nothing more, nothing less.” Jake smiled as he watched the face on Vincent change, he still didn’t know the man’s name, but he understood him, of course he was told what to expect. Both men stood there, Vincent reverting to the man clouded with thoughts, and Jake smiling, in silence for minutes.
Finally movement in the brush drew their attention. “There, be quiet.” Jake said. “Remember James will come at you, he will bark, he will howl, but at the end of the day he’s just a pet, meant to strike fear in people, to scare them but only until they see who he really is.” Vincent nodded in response and the two began to creep forward.
Sudden movement in a shrub to the left showed them the way, and they both continued to track the animal. They crept along, following every paw print they came a cross, Vincent growing more angry, his mind jumping back and forth between the hunt and the future, his thoughts on the Wolf he had to come face to face with.
Under a tree log the two stopped and Vincent pointed at some tracks in the dirt. “He’s going this way, not moving too fast.” His eyes were wide, the hunt was beginning to thrill him, and the adrenaline was pushing the cloud in his mind thicker, giving the monster inside more control.
“Come on!” Jake yelled as he jumped the log and half ran crouch walked after the tracks, Vincent trailing a short distance behind him. “He can’t be too far away, the tracks are close together.” Jake said.
“Knocking on a tree from Jake caused Vincent to snap out of the funk that had taken his mind. Vincent had stopped far behind Jake and was staring at the ground, as if pondering something, but the only thing on his mind was rage, and excitement. The knocking had brought Vincent back to the reality of what was taking place, and the excitement had taken him over again as he ran after Jake who was more than 20 paces ahead of him.
“Stop!” Jake forcibly whispered as Vincent came close. That’s when Vincent realized he was taking orders from a kid.
“You want your Wolf back, then we are going to do this my way.” Vincent stood up and pushed into the brush where the movement that had made Jake stop was coming from. A moment later Vincent stood back up with a small Chihuahua in his hands, the name tag on it reading James. “What the fuck is this?”
“That’s James, my pet dog, or Wolf as you called it.” Jake announced proudly. “You found it.”
Vincent shook his head, trying desperately to clear his mind, but the fog grew stronger, his anger building. “This is your fucking Wolf, this is James?!” He yelled into the air. “I was worried about this fucking thing?” Vincent held it up by the scruff of the neck, the trembling animal trying to escape.
“Yeah that’s James.” Jake said. “My pet dog.”
“Is this a joke?” Vincent asked. “Do you know who I am and are playing some kind of sick joke on me?”
Jake shook his head in response. “No joke.” He said.
“Fuck you, this damn thing was meant to be some stupid metaphor for James Wolf wasn’t it?” Vincent stared at the boy.
“What do you mean?” The boy asked, confusion filling his voice.
“You fucking assholes had a giant wolf outside of my camp with the same name tag on it, and then you showed up and pretended like your pet was a wolf, knowing full well what happened the night before. You caged up the real wolf and put the collar on this piece of shit and had me help you hunt it down.” Vincent shook the dog at him. “DIDN’T YOU!” Vincent yelled, shaking the dog.
“Mister you have lost it.” Jake said.
“Don’t sell yourself short boy.” Vincent lowered the dog, still grasping the scruff of its neck. “You almost had me, the whole metaphor and the way you talk to your dog. I get it now, I mean it’s pretty damn good, James is a bitch, a small dog that does run to the end of his chain and bark, you were right. Hell you should take pride in the charade, it was well thought out.” Vincent let out a half smile, and then the anger crept back in.
“Can I have my dog back?” Jake asked, a shake of fear in his voice.
“This dog?” Vincent held up the dog. “Your metaphor for James Wolf? Let me show you what happens to James Wolf in a few days, let’s finish the metaphor if you will.” Vincent winked, held up the dog and stared into its eyes. “James, you will run and bark, tell me how great you are, sell yourself to the world, but at the end of the day you have to get into the ring, and show the world the truth. You are nothing more than a small dog in a big dog’s world. Though you don’t see it now, you’re picking a fight with a bigger dog, and hungrier dog. And when you pick a fight with the wrong dog you lose, just like now!” Vincent laughed and slung the dog into the air.
Jake took off running, his eyes on the Chihuahua as he flew through the air gracefully. With the flying dog almost in arms reach, Jake stretched out his arms, but a rock took his footing and he fell face first to the ground, the only solace that he didn’t have to see the dog land, only hear it, and the whimper that escaped it. “Some lessons come with a cost. You can deny reality, you can even play make believe, but you found out what James will find out in a few days. In the end your truth and lies all add up to one thing, a gut punch by reality.” Vincent winked and walked off back to his camp, the boy left crying as the rain began to come down.
