In late November of 1943 in the frost covered Arden Forrest of France, an American soldier Private Bendenski dug his fox hole. He quickly crouched down deep into his fox hole trying to deflect the deathly chill of the wind. Lost from his platoon private Bendenski had hung on the edge of survival for the last six weeks. With only crumbs of food remaining, he gathered up what energy he had left to build a fire. Preparing what he envisions as his last meal, he begins to escape into his nirvana. Wishing he was home, he sees his loving wife's face and their beautiful daughter. Quickly, he snaps back to the hell in which he is living, after hearing a twig snap in the distance. Suddenly, a thin fog rolled in and the sound of footsteps crept closer. Bendenski grabbed his rifle and staggered to his feet. forefathers Baffled he continued to search. As his dying fire flickered, he trembled at the sight of his breath rolling from his mouth. Then God sent him an assurance, a vision that he is in danger, but far from what Bendenski had believed. As he stood half frozen he heard what could have only been the devil himself. A deafening howl sounding of the Great Fenrir echoed through the forest. Bendenski could not believe his eyes as The Great Fenrir revealed himself. He marveled at this creature's size. He was in awe of its massive teeth as it circled him with its back perched ready to strike. Fenrir oddly stops moving and stared into his eyes. This sent a jolt of fear through
The entire story is filled with the exciting and riveting near death feeling that flows through the story. From the beginning of the narrator not knowing where he is, to the end where he is saved from falling in the pit by the General, but inevitably dies a slow, painful death. “I n other conditions of mind I might have had courage to end my misery at once by a plunge into one of these abysses; but now I was the veriest of cowards. Neither could I forget what I had read of these pits – that the sudden extinction of life formed no part of their most horrible plan.” (11) This shows how in the beginning there was the quick thought of a swift death, but by the end, the narrator realizes that there is no way out and accepts
As his stare bore into my eyes, he displayed a frightened expression. The figure was a tall, slender man with fuzzy, chocolate brown hair covering his head and skin as pale as snow. His eyes gleaming in the moonlight were immense and wild. Eventually he looks around, darting his eyes from side to side. Then leans in and whispers to me, “You can prevent it from happening!” With a panicked expression, he glared into my eyes and then I wake up from the
The man got up and stood his ground as the massive beast barreled towards him. The man knew that he had one chance to make it out of this fight alive. Everything seemed to slow down as the man became focused on the approaching threat. He had noticed a break in the beast’s armor. Just below the stomach lay a deformity, the Achilles heel of the monster. It would be difficult to hit but he knew that it must be done to be able to bring the monster down. He began to run towards the beast now, his senses heightened and he felt as if he was watching himself from above. The beast was now 100 yards away and it traveled at the same pace as it did before. Just before they connected, the man slid below the beast. Time was moving at snail's pace in the mans eyes and he was just below the deformity. He thrust his sword up into the beast and the sword cut through like slicing butter. The man made it to the other side of the beast. The monster was motionless, then after a good minute had passed the nightmare had toppled over in a heap of flesh. The sword no longer glowed as he returned it to it’s scabbard. The deed had been done, so he thought. He heard movement from where the beast was and he turned just in time to see a dark mist darting towards the trees, then it was gone. The man knew that this was far from
Let me finish” The creature demanded. As the creature went on it was almost as if he was reliving the events of his past. “ As I walked away from william a hostile human had appeared out of the trees with a gun,” the creature said. “Put your hands in the air or I will not hesitate to shoot” the man said.
Tyler was tired. He didn’t exactly remember why, and he didn’t want to try to, either because it would take too much energy. He could have been doing homework, or he could have been playing video games. He didn’t really care. He said goodnight to Jake, his dog. Surprisingly, he didn’t fall asleep instantaneously. It was like his body didn’t want him to sleep.
The whispers of the figures in the candle lit room quickly disappeared, as did everything else. When Samuel opened his eyes, he only saw the cloudy sky being disfigured by neon blues running around him frantically. He felt a burning inside, and his skin felt as dry as a desert. The wind passed through him as if he were a ghost, and the clouds began to look like other worldly beings that wished to take him as a trophy. He felt the wind, his dry skin, and the flaming feel of his body that made him want to scream-- he couldn't. He thought he might die, he thought his small body would burn up before he ever landed-- but he couldn't get his mouth opened one bit. Samuel continued to fall, he felt the ground coming closer and closer to his frozen body. He closed his eyes, wanting to wake up from the terrible dream he thought he was experiencing. When his eyes opened, he saw a clear yellow sky; large, violet trees surrounding him; and the tall, pink grass he layed in. "Ow..." he managed to mutter, unable to move as if his body had turned to stone. He attempted to turn over but found himself to be
His stomach was rotten, his chest was tight, and his legs could no longer move. He had been shocked at what he had just seen. It must have been a metamorphic transformation. His body began to tremble as a very terrifying reality engulfed him. Frozen against the carved mahogany staircase his eyes strained excruciatingly wide, imprisoned by the vision before him. Floating in the air was a deeply victimised entity that anchored itself around him with the thirst of revenge. Its vengeance had been astray till
He lay on the ground, clutching his wound. Sirens wailed in the distance, but they would never reach him. He was fading, but he felt peace.
A writhing horror twisted itself across his features, like a snake gliding swiftly over them, and making one little pause, with all its wreathed intervolutions in open sight. His face darkened with some powerful emotion..." (44)
Preoccupied with his ominous fingernail gave no attention to his left hand. He raised the palm of death, in it a human skull. Deep within its eye sockets, large red stones. Its eyes level with hers. She focused on a tiny, fiery speck inside each. Specks grew larger and more intense. She found it impossible to look away, feeling them burn through her eyes into to her mind. The stones dimmed until extinguished lowered his palm. A blank expression covered her face, mind unaware of what occurred while returning from a
Stepping out onto her small porch Laurel placed her hands her hands at her hips, head turning from side to side, to gaze at the city. Everything looked so peaceful, it was hard to believe that sooner or later everything would change, war was on the horizon whether they like it or not. She muttered out a sigh as she reached her hand up to rub at her forehead. She blinked a few times when she caught sight of Cain. “Here goes nothing.” She mumbled to herself as she walked down the small steps. She met Cain at the gates, a slight smile played at her lips. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to keep everything in check. I won’t allow anyone to blow anything up.” She stated with a slight nod of her head. Her right hand fell to rest atop her gun, “Make sure you don’t kill anyone else Cain. If we want to win this war we are going to need the numbers.” She muttered out in a soft voice, a hint of announce could be heard.
As the game flowed on, layups, three pointers, and any basket you think of were raining like snow falling out of the sky. Players talking smack, coaches yelling at each other and parents steaming in fury over the performance of their children, especially mine. A major loss by 8, to the worst team in the league. When the game ended, my sister snatched me into the car and drove me home, in silence. I had no idea what was going on, I asked myself did someone just lose their bestfriend? As thoughts were running through my mind, I didn’t know what to think. I arrived at my house and just ran up into my room, avoiding all verbal contact.
My eyes drooped before finally sealing themselves closed. It only lasted for a second thought, as a bright light and a small pop, followed by his shriek of terror, brightened my eyes to open back up. Another flash of light popped next to me, then another. The man pushed off of my back leaving my body on the ground in a broken mess. I gasped for air like a maniac. My chest burned with each breath I took, but at this point I embraced it each time with my uncontrollable desperation for air. I watched as the bits of light continued to hit the ground. The once malicious demon now ran off in front of me, swiping his top hat with his free hand as he made his escape. Following him were the flashes of light on the ground. Shortly after the man ran past the arch of dead trees and disappeared into the unknown the sound of pattering footsteps emerged from behind me. Whispers were made as I began to calm my breathing. I couldn’t understand what they were saying as they tried to keep their voices away from me. One of the set of footsteps made their way around to the front of me before I shut my eyes again. Once the footsteps became silent the presence of a palm pressed gently onto my neck. The feeling of warmth and softness quickly flowed through my body, warming up the death and despair from before with hope and hospitality. It laid there for a while before pulling itself away from me. A voice raised itself up to speak but was quickly silenced by
A moment passed, and a primitive instinct in me told me he had died. My dreamer had dropped out of his body-sack and moved on. Yet his arms still moved. His chest still rose and fell with breath. Fingers still shook as they held fast to my shoulder. Above all, a single thought reared itself above the hordes.
Whether Faith obeyed, he knew not. Hardly had he spoken, when he found himself amid calm night and solitude, listening to a roar of the wind, which died heavily away through the forest. He staggered against the rock, and felt it chill and damp, while a hanging twig, that had been all on fire, besprinkled his cheek with the coldest dew.