Cletus T. Broshus & the Blue Ridge Beast: Prologue - 6.

Clive wasn't sure he had heard the first shot, an errant pop clapping through the silent woods from behind him as he raced towards the shack. But he was certain he had heard the second, clapping shortly after the first. He felt his heart flutter a little as he heard a beastly grumble accompany it; never once doubting his father would find a way to slow the beast. But his hopes crashed just as quickly, the third shot echoing quickly following the second. Then the undeniable death rattle of his father echoed from behind; his knees nearly giving out as he heard the anguished cry. But he pressed onward, the crashing of wood behind him signaling the beast's bearing down. He could see the shack nearing before him, legs burning as he pressed them harder. He crashed into the front porch as he arrived to it, misjudging the stairs and slamming hard into the rough groved wood. His face grew warm as blood rushed from a split above his right eye. 

He could hear the groans of the beast as it drew near, quickly getting back to his feet and crashing through the door of the cabin. He slammed the door behind him, leaning against the heavy oak door as he struggled to turn the rusted latch. It eventually loosed enough to catch the door, locking it in place just as the beast arrived. 

He could hear it growling at the foot of the porch steps, snarling as it stared at the structure. Clive reached for his father's rifle, just off to the side of the door. The tips of his fingers caught it, sliding the rifle quietly across the floor until it was close enough for him to rake into his hands. He checked to see if it was loaded, sighing as he saw the long, rifled bullet waiting in the chamber.

He could hear the wood boards creaking under the weight of the creature as it moved up the stairs onto the porch. Boards cracked and splintered under the beast's massive weight, the very foundation rattling as though it would give at any moment. He could hear the beast grumble as it lumbered around... Hear his deep huffs and grunts as it stalked him. 


And then it was gone, bolting off the porch as quick as it had come upon it. Clive gave a deep sigh of relief, slowly easing the death grip he had on the rifle; clutching it like a baby would his blanket. He wondered how much longer he would have to sit... Surely the beast still lingering nearby, waiting him out. But he couldn't wait... His father... 

"No way he's still alive," he told himself, the momentary anxiety of believing his father laid yards from him bleeding out alone nearly driving him out the door in a flurry to the jaws of certain death. So he sobbed quietly instead, whispering daddy as he grieved as quietly as he could; hoping the lingering demon would not hear his weeping. 

But another hair raising growl from the monster drew him silent; the beast's howl loud and close. It came from his left, behind the black with decayed wooden wall. 

It took seconds for the beast's attack to play out; the room exploding into a cloud of dust and splinters as the creature crashed through the wall moments after giving his war cry. Clive made a final scramble to raise his weapon, a mightily blast from the beast knocking the rifle from his hands as the heavy paw of the creature crashed hard against his head. 


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