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Guest Tom Forest

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Guest Tom Forest

A story that I thought of, I'm not an aspiring writer, nor am I a good one, but I hope you all like it nonetheless.

 

 

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My mind is clouded and I'm so sleepy. I try to stretch, only to wince and manage to barely restrain a yelp, as my body reminded me what state I'm in, everything hurts. My body feels numb, heavy and warm, so warm...
I can barely remember the Hantz brothers paying me a visit after they went to the bar as well, damn those pigs to hell. How could anyone tolerate being close to the offspring of an ashtray and a bucket of vomit. I inhale sharply as a sharp pain radiates from my stomach, making me aware of my involuntary fasting. Living on the streets will do that to you, I suppose.
I try to breath slowly, through my nose and gritted teeth, but smell no garbage, no sweat, no not even that drunk that relieved himself on me a while back. I clench my fist at the memory, only to feel the softest fabric I've ever felt. It feels like a cloud in pillow form, did I die and go to heaven? . . . . WAIT, Pillow?!
I jolt upright, tossing the thick, warm duvet partially off of me. I mange to sweep the room with my eyes, seeing that I'm in a huge bed, in an even bigger room . . and then Pain. My vision blur and fades as I fall back and into the unnaturally soft bed. Quickly loosing consciousness from the immense pain in my head and left arm. The last I remember is the smell of the sheets,  and Vanilla.

 

 

My name is . . . Was Ivar, but it has been a long time since anyone has called me anything that didn't drip malice, venom or disgust. . .

I am a half-breed as the nicer ones would call me. My father was a soldier in the Argath army who got the "Honor" to be enhanced. From what I heard, it was supposed to turn you into a super soldier but the side effects, turned you more into a Lupine beast or werewolf of sorts.
Regrettably, I inherited some aspects, but with no way of turning it off, like some of them could.
I got the ears and tail of a wolf, sort of, along with the smell and hearing to match. I didn't get anything of the positives, you know, the strength and speed, or else I wouldn't have taken all that abuse like some mutt.

Safe to say, people aren't happy to see us lupines walking about.

 

 

I emerge from the fog that is my mind some time later, faintly remembering the mistake that was getting up too quickly.

Only one thought register loud enough to latch on, "Where the Fuck am I?!"
Last thing I remember is laying in the streets and covering my head, having been caught off guard by the ever so loving Hantz twins, showing their interest in my "Well being"
I look over at the faintly throbbing pain in my left arm, seeing it splintered and wrapped in pristine bandages. Looking around, I see a huge room with white-ish walls and ceiling with ornate carvings or protrusions in them with flowing patterns. Having learned from my mistake, I slowly right myself, taking my time as I almost pass out several times from the minor exertion. Now that I have a better look at the room, it looks like a very rich or important person's mansion. Coming from a very lackluster background, to put it mildly, I never understood the need for so much space.This room is big enough to be a generous sized apartment for a small family.
Suddenly, a heavenly smell grabs a hold of my nose and almost suplex my stomach into submission. The gut-wrenching hunger has me on my feet, almost forgetting my pains as I am led out of the auditorium of a room by the nose. That almost perverse aroma of cured and salted meat being fried, Bacon.

I shamble through the hall, steadying myself on the wall. My mind almost doesn't register the thick carpets lining the slightly cold marble floor. I follow the smell down a flight of stairs to the first floor and through a corridor with a glass wall, leading to a inner courtyard with a pond of fish. The fish only managed to hold my hungry gaze for a moment before the waft of food yanked me along once more, growing stronger.

I round the corner to a big kitchen, figuring it was the kitchen by the benches that lined two of the walls, framing a large slab of marble in the middle and by the perpetrator who stood by the stove with his back turned.

 

The figure was a tall human with broad shoulders and a muscular but athletic build. His hair was light grey, if not white and buzz cut. He was wearing a slightly loose white shirt and brown cargo pants. He cut an impressive figure as he worked the stove silently, not shoving any signs of having noticed me. Before I knew it, I had walked up to the table, resting my hands on it as he spoke in a low and deep voice and I could almost hear him grin. 

"So the puppy has finally woken up"

I flinch and step back from the table, snapping out of my haze as I remember the situation I'm in while he moves the contents of the pan onto a plate.

He turns around and slides the plate in front of me, but I don't dare take my eyes off him. His pale grey eyes drill into mine, locking me in place as I barely dare to glance at his features. Despite his hair being the color of dirty snow, he looks like he is in his late twenties, maybe early thirties. He has a strong, broad jaw and a nose that I don't know any other way to describe than masculine. He stands there, hands on the table and just looking at me with an impassive face, no hint of the smirk I heard in his voice.

"Well? you must be hungry, eat up, there is plenty more where that came from"

He gestures down at the plate and I take a reflexive step back, looking down at the plate . . . Did he just make a smiley face with eggs and bacon??

The confused expression must be evident on my face, because I hear him fail to hold in a snicker, trying to cover up his mouth with his hand as my stomach screams it's protests.

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Thank you so much for reading and let me hear what you think and I'll do my best to reply as quick as I can.

Edited by Tom Forest
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Wow you're a really good writer. I love how great you are at providing very visual imagery through your words. Imagery in writing is probably one of my favorite aspects of writing. I hope you will post more of your writing in the future.  :heart:

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Guest Tom Forest

Wow you're a really good writer. I love how great you are at providing very visual imagery through your words. Imagery in writing is probably one of my favorite aspects of writing. I hope you will post more of your writing in the future.  :heart:

I am so glad you liked it! That means Tons to me xD

I will be sure to post more, Looking forward to hearing what you think of the continuation!

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