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Delete This Halloween

Right now I am in the middle of job hunting, but it does not mean I can't give you a little something for Halloween. Not an excerpt, but a deleted scene- a perfect introduction to a new feature on my website called Tidbits (coming out whenever I get the time to develop it). This deleted scene comes towards the end of Ruby Caves, where Sarah and Dave witness some violence inflicted by a Feral werewolf. At this point, Sarah has also been turned into a werewolf, kind of, just to add a little more context. The scene as a whole was just too much clutter and added little. I'm adding a different, significantly more horrifying scene in its place. A little commentary will be provided in red.

 

She began walking away from him, quickly enough to get across to the end of the next building without consciously deciding that was what she wanted to do. (This is just really clunky) When he caught up to her she realized what he had meant about not being in full control. “Oh,”

“Yeah.”

“I’m not so sure about this anymore.” Her voice sounded hollow to herself.

“Just focus on the kids. Let your body takeover. It knows what to do.”

“Okay,”

Dave gripped her shoulders hard, snapping her attention to him. “I know. I warned you about this. I don’t like being out of control of my body either, but at least one of us needed to take that to get out of here.”

(I don't even remember what's going on in this conversation, don't ask. I must have written it at night- my absolute worst writing time)

She nodded. “I know.”

They heard two werewolves roaring at each other and two different yelps. Much, much closer now. “Holy shit!” she heard one of the guards scream. “Go, go, get to the miner’s qua-“ his voice was cut off.

She saw five more men running out from the east side of the compound, covered in mud and snow and blood. Their breathing was a cloud obscuring their faces. They were less than twenty feet into the open when they paused, pointing their guns in Sarah’s direction. She dragged Dave to the corner of the building by his arm, effortlessly pinning him against the wall. He grunted. “Sorry,” Sarah muttered. Both of them had their guns up and ready by the time the guards moved away, towards Michael’s cluster of buildings. (Too much unnecessary detail as a whole, especially in regards to the clouds around their faces. Everyone knows what happens when people breathe in cold air)

A mud-colored Feral had followed them, leaping into the air at the end of an alley and landing near the first man, long arms swinging wide to balance itself. The guard ducked and slid on his back under the arm. He twisted his body and lifted his rifle, firing high. Sarah saw three bullets hit the belly, popping it open with small bloody holes. (If I were to keep this scene, this part would be... crisp, rather than bloated) “Shit!” he screamed. He immediately scrambled back on his knees, dropping the gun. “Shit!” he screamed again. “I didn’t mean to shoot you! I thought you were the other one!” The Feral roared at him, kicking snow in the guard’s face. (Not bad as a whole, the incident is realistic as a mistake made by someone with a little less control than others. Can't blame him though)

It sniffed the air and looked around, first at the buildings where the kids were hiding and then towards the entrance of the compound. The guard who had accidentally shot the Feral finished cleaning his face and stared up at its chest. It was one of the smaller Ferals she had seen, in terms of height. It was around the same size as William, which was only a slight improvement on their situation, and it was still built like a living tank. Broad, knobby shoulders over narrow pectorals and an extended gut moving in-and-out below its very long, straight fur. It looked like an Afghan hound forgot about safe sex ten generations ago. (I will keep this but shorten the description in the final version and have it more active in the situation)

Time seemed to stop as everyone tried to surmise what the Feral was going to do next. There was no way it would end pleasantly for everyone, but Sarah crept to the corner of the building, using her new hearing to gauge her success, to make herself look smaller (I'd cut this). She was thankful she could at least think that far ahead for the sake of her own future. Dave crowded up beside her, real close. She heard him actively trying to stall his breathing. For every three breaths she took he was only taking one. She attempted to mimic his style but found it too jarring against her overactive heartbeat. What did it matter? Unless they could sneak into a building and ride it out the Feral was going to find them. They needed to go forward though, towards the kids, not back. If anything, she was also thankful the ice she had shoved in her mouth still worked to keep it invisible.

The Feral turned its upper body to glare down at the other men, who(. They) refused to look up and held their guns high above their heads in a non-threatening manner. All of them began speaking. The Feral cocked its head and turned back to the man who had shot it. He scrambled backwards on his knees. Sarah shook her head, the sudden movement was a horrible idea. The Feral roared, slapped the snow with both open palms, and crawled forward. Sarah gasped. Dave flinched. The Feral reached the man, drove the claws of one hand into his back, curled its fingers for maximum purchase, and then hurled the man across the open space at the other guards. (Way too long. I try to follow Hemingway's example when writing violence using quick, curt sentences. Just didn't work out here) She saw the blood spray out of the wounds as the Feral let go, and a large piece of meat from his back cling to its claws. Two of them were knocked face first by their flying comrade. The other three kept going. Two of them passed by where Sarah and Dave were standing, ignoring them completely. One ran towards the cluster where Michael and Erika were hiding. (Too many characters overall, at least here, to have to worry about. I'm not THAT good, to properly organize this kind of situation yet. Besides, the bloodshed in this novel is enough- I can cut back here)

Sarah kept her eyes on the violence. Now that people were dying she thought nothing of it. She did not know these men, except in association with Michael’s kidnapping, so they received no brownie points- but her she still reacted as one would when seeing the Feral’s seemingly random savagery. Not even a second after those two men were down the werewolf returned to them and hauled the shooter off. And then it reached down, casually snapping both legs in half at the knees with loud pops. Dave audibly winced as she groaned in disgust. Sarah believed she would always hear his screams. The second downed man kicked up at the Feral’s snout as it turned to him. The Feral yelped, pawed at its nose, and before the target could get anywhere it reached down, gripped the man’s foot, and hauled the man up over its shoulders. The Feral just dropped him, letting the speed and momentum take its natural course. Sarah cringed as his face burst open all over the snow on impact; she heard his jaw crack apart and his nose pop. She looked away as the Feral devoted its full attention to that man. On top of that, in a desperate attempt to survive, the man with broken legs began dragging himself across the ground by his arms.

Before she turned to Dave to tell him it was time to go, the Feral snorted, loudly. Sarah looked back at the beast. “What is it doing?” Dave whispered.

The Feral stood tall like a spring, apparently forgetting about the men at its feet. Both arms dangled far below its knees, hanging loose, gently swinging back-and-forth. The noise William had caused had finally died down. There would have been complete silence, had it not been for the two pairs of running feet she heard coming from her right. Both she and the Feral stared at the guards tearing a violent path through the snow, red and sweating. Twenty feet away, the Feral barked at them, a harsh noise that sent chills down her spine and stopped the men in their tracks. Dave squirmed, stepping back.

Retaliating, the men fired warning shots above its head with assault rifles. The Feral ducked, but kept its eyes on the men. Ears folding across its head, it roared again and leapt forward, halving the distance. Sarah and Dave were now in full view of the beast, should it decide to turn its head. She turned to him and jerked her chin towards the forest. He nodded and they both crouch-walked to the end of the building. They moved slow to keep the noise level down. Every two or three steps, Sarah glanced over her shoulder.

“Get the fuck out of our way!” one of the guards shouted. They fired more warning shots. The Feral did not duck this time. Instead, it looked around, turned towards the alley, and began loping towards them on all fours.

 

Well, I have to go now. Y'all have a happy Halloween! Get spooky!

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