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rrhodes25 · 6 months

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So this is different from normal for me, but in celebration of the end of the spooky season, I wrote a small horror story. It's nothing crazy, mainly for practice writing prose, but I figured I'd share. It was written on my phone's notes app, so definitely nothing fancy lol.

It's also dinosaur themed, because I am a predictable person

The Bull - Horned Horror

"Jefferson? Jefferson do you copy?"

The radio's sharp volume pierced the previously silent room. The space was small and disorderly, but intended to be comfortable. Simple furniture was contrasted with a great deal of decor as well as valuables, along with a non - zero amount of garbage. It was a ranger post, in Forbes State Forest in Pennsylvania. Not the largest nor most heavily funded of state forests, but still a beautiful scene. The ranger in charge of this area, and this post, was dozing at his desk when the radio blared. Jefferson Hyles awoke slowly, groaning as he realized how much longer his shift would be. A string a drool connected his chin to the desk as he shook himself awake. He rubbed the gunk from his eyes, taking a deep breathe of the stale air as he picked up the radio and answered the call.

"Could... Could you repeat that for me, sir?"

An exasperated sign came from the other end.

"I said, I just received a report about a missing person in your sector. Teenager. Apparently the kid ran away from his friends due to some bet and never came back."

The news had Jefferson slightly more roused but not terribly concerned. People get lost in the forest all the time, especially teenagers and college students who've been out drinking. It was important to bring the kid back, especially before his parents got wind of it, but these events were practically routine.

"His name is Tyler Jones, and his last known location is close to your post. Go out there and find the kid, quickly." "Yes sir. Moving out now."

Jefferson rose to his feet and prepared his things. Despite his supervisor's instructions, he didn't move with extreme haste. These woods were safe, the kid would find nothing dangerous if Jefferson took an extra moment to wake up a bit more. He dusted some crumbs off of his shirt and took note of a small stain on his pantleg. Shrugging to himself he decided not to fuss about it. The kid won't care if he's a little disorderly; he'll just be happy to have a way out of the forest. He grabbed his belt, with his sidearm and maps of the sector as well as the keys to his truck. Clipping the radio to his belt, he steps into the crisp autumnal air. The trees around him all shimmering with brilliant colors, the leaves being complimented by the now setting sun in the distance. Jefferson huffed. He'd have to be quick. Searching would become all the more difficult when the sun went down. Perhaps he should have moved more quickly after all.

Jefferson's old truck chugged to life, spitting and coughing like an old cat before settling into an uneven hum. Jefferson tossed his pack containing his various survival equipment into the back seat before setting off down the rough path. With dusk now settling over the park's ancient trees, the headlights of the truck were hardly enough to provide visibility. He'd have to submit a request for new lights. He'd been meaning to do that for a while. Jefferson made the brisk trip to the location pinpointed to him by the supervisor and killed the power in his truck. He didn't grab his pack, but did remember his flashlight. Jefferson's truck was such an outdated model that he had to lock it manually. After sorting himself out, he scanned his surroundings for the first time.

Jefferson was standing before one of the most secluded trailheads in the whole forest, one that was only recommended for experienced hikers. He grumbled to himself as he began to make the trek. The most distasteful part of his job was this kind of call. A stupid kid doing stupid things in a secluded place. And yet, Jefferson couldn't remain frustrated. Part of him felt sympathy for the kid, his friends did leave him here. Another part of him felt a sense of uneasiness the further down the trail he went. He began to call out.

"Tyler! Tyler Jones! You out here, kid?" No response. The woods were quiet. Only the occasional cricket would break the silence.

"Tyler! You ain't in trouble kid, I'm just trying to get you home!" Still, nothing. Jefferson continued forward. He began to sweep his flashlight back and forth, trying to spot any signs of the kid. A dropped phone, tracks, anything at all. For nearly ten minutes there was nothing. Even the crickets seemed to go quiet. Jefferson's uneasiness grew. He was about to call out again, but he saw something, just out of the beam of the flashlight. One of the trees off to his left, tall and thin, was damaged. Nine or ten feet up the trunk, a patch of the tree's bark was worn away. Not just worn away, like the tree was dying, but it was clearly broken, scraped off. It was as if a giant bear had come along and scratched it's back against the tree. But Jefferson couldn't think of a bear that tall, especially not any in this area. He was becoming more and more aware of his situation, alone deep in the forest, a place where he usually finds himself at his most comfortable. Jefferson grabbed his radio and attempted to call his supervisor for a report.

"Sir, I'm on the path where the kid supposedly went, and I've not found any signs of him. There's something els-" The radio cut out. Jefferson had forgotten to charge it before leaving. He'd have cell service back at his post, but not out here. He cursed to himself, wondering what the hell he was supposed to do. It was at that moment when he saw it. A patch of bushes to his right. They were parted, in a way that suggested someone had gone through them. He also, finally, found some tracks. The prints of sneakers going off into the forest. Jefferson begins to move when he hears something rustling in the trees behind him. In his tense state he whirls around to see... nothing. Nothing at all. After a brief sign of relief, he continues.

Jefferson follows the disjointed path of the kid for a little while. Calling it a path is rather generous, it is more so a line of disrupted foliage and the occasional footprint. What he begins to notice after some time is deeply concerning. The distance between the footprints is such that the kid was running, and running fast. Why would he be sprinting through the woods so far from where he was dropped by his friends? This sets Jefferson's mind alflame. Was the kid running from something? Is his safety truly in jeopardy? As he begins to move through an area of thicker brush he begins to call out once more.

"Tyler! Tyler Jones! Are you out there? Are you hurt-" Jefferson comes to a sudden stop. His breathe catches deep in his throat. As he cleared out the last of the shrubbery blocking his path, he sees something he never wishes to find. A body. A young man, sprawled out on the ground, limbs in such a position as to suggest he tumbled to the ground. However, that is not what rendered Jefferson speechless. The culprit of that is the massive wound in the teenager's midsection. His entire gut was torn apart, with a variety of mutilated organs spilling out onto the leaf - covered forest floor. Jefferson could hardly stomach it. It looked as if something had bit into his body, demolishing any tissue in the way. He looked around at the area. Many of the smaller plants seemed to have been trampled, as if an elephant had charged through the area. Multiple trees around the body had similar damage to their trunks as the one near the path. Jefferson then saw something that his mind could hardly process. On the other side of the body, were footprints. But not footprints belonging to the kid. These footprints looked like a birds, but larger than any birds he had ever seen, by a huge margin.

"What in the hell-" Jefferson muttered to himself before hearing it again. The rustling behind him. Before he could even turn this time, a second sound followed the first. A deep and rumbling series of sounds that seemed to be clicks and hums, again like a massive bird. Jefferson carefully turned himself and as his flashlight pointed to the spot where the noises were coming from, he found himself face to face with the impossible.

The animal was huge, crouched down to be nearly eye level with him. It's skin was leathery and pebbled with scales. It's head was large but stout, it's mouth just open enough to reveal jagged and sharp teeth. The eyes of the creature glowed in the light of the flashlight, and atop them sat horns like a bull's. Jefferson had found himself standing before a dinosaur. A real, flesh and blood dinosaur, and it had killed the kid. The blood still dripped from its maw, and the smell was overpowering. The creature was almost ten feet away from him, and began to take another step forward. It's birdlike foot made contact silently with the forest floor, something that should be impossible for an animal so large. Jefferson couldn't breathe, couldn't think, as the creature grew closer. As it came no more than a foot from his face, a single thought rang out in the flurry of terror: run. And so he did. He slammed his flashlight into the creature's nose before turning on his heels and dashing back down the path he had come from. The dinosaur bellowed and took a step or two back, shaking it's head back and forth from the impact. Jefferson glanced behind him just in time to see the creature not beginning to chase him, but run off into the cover of the trees off to it's right. It moved incredibly quickly, with a nimblness that should not be possible. Jefferson continued to run.

He ran and he ran, occasionally hearing rustling in the trees that told him with complete certainty that he had not left the animal behind. Finally, he saw his truck in the distance. He was almost to safety. It was then that the creature burst from the trees to his left with a thundering bellow and slammed its head into Jefferson's shoulder. He went flying nearly ten feet into a nearby tree. The pain was immediate and intense, he certainly dislocated his shoulder and shattered ribs, if not worse. His vision was blurred as he desperately grabbed for his sidearm and as he finally took hold of it and pointed it up, the creature was upon him. Jefferson fired and managed to stun the creature for a moment. He couldn't hold the weapon any longer, the pain was too great. He could see his own blood begining to pool under him. His breathe heaved as he tried to stand but failed. He helplessly looked back at the creature, whose eyes were now turned to him. Seeing them for the first time without the glare from the flashlight was haunting. They were bright orange, and bore down on him with terrible intelligence. The creature lunged forward and bit into Jefferson's stomach. He cried out in pain, it was so intense he could barely keep himself awake. The last thing Jefferson Hyles saw was his guts spilling out onto the floor of the forest he had called home for so long, and the animal that spilled them devouring him before he could die.

#dinosaur #horror #short story #dinosaur horror #carnotaurus #palaeoblr #writing #writers on tumblr #writeblr #horror story

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sketchy-sketches · 2 days

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chapter 5:

Mercenaries

Paul rolled out of his hotel bed, slowly walking to the hotels kitchen. He poured the day old coffee into a mug and sipped the cold bitter brew. With that he made a new, fresh pot of coffee. He stepped out of the kitchen and sat on his bed. He looked over at the other hotel bed, Amanda sleeping quietly. He turned on the tv and let the news quietly play in the background.

Pauls phone buzzed on the desk. He stood and leaned to grab the phone. The screen read Udesky, Paul quickly flipped his phone open and answered the call.

“This is Paul.”

“Hello Mr. Kirby, this is Mark Udesky, the lead mercenary you hired. We would love to set up a meeting for today, and we can ship out tomorrow at first light.” His voice sounded scratchy and rugged. Paul looked over at Amanda, sleeping peacefully. He checked his watch, seven fifteen am. Paul knew Amanda got up at eight thirty every morning without fail. Maybe he could go alone? Not disturb Amanda or bother her with any more stress.

“Yeah, i think we can do that, where are we meeting?”

“We will meet at the private airport near tres rios, at around o’nine hundred. Does that work for you?”

”yes i believe that will work fine.”

“Great i will send you the full address.” Paul heard other people talking in the background.

“Sounds good, see you soon.” Paul hung up the phone, and put it back on the dresser and went to go get dressed. He ran the names of the mercs through his head. Mark Udesky, Danial Nash, Thomas Cooper. He was sacrificing so much to do this. His reputation, his business, and his money, were only part of it. But it was all worth it, for Eric, for closure if he is gone and if he is still alive… then he would have his son back. He missed Eric, more than he ever thought he would. He needed his son, he felt like nothing without him. But now he had a chance to have his son in his arms again. He buckled his belt. What could be on that island that Eric could have wanted to see so badly? The only thing that would intrigue that boy to go anywhere was dinosaurs, or food. Hell the only reason his mother was able to get Eric to go to boy scouts or gymnastics was bribing him with sweets after every trip. Paul shook his head as he buttoned his shirt and adjusted his collar. Grabbing his phone, he put it in his shirt pocket and took one last look at Amanda, still sleeping undisturbed. He decided to write her a note for when she woke up. Paul walked to the kitchen and grabbed a pen and an empty envelope. He wrote on the back, had to go to a meeting with the people we hired to help find Eric, there is fresh coffee in the pot and plenty of eggs and bacon to make for food. He left the note on the dresser. Paul grabbed his keys from the hook on the wall. As he walked out, he whistled his store tune.

Paul pulled out of the hotel parking lot and drove down the road. He felt his shirt begin to buzz on his chest, and without taking his eyes off the road he grabbed the phone from his pocket and answered. “Hello?” Paul said flatly.

“Mr Kirby, it is me again, Mark Udesky, I would simply like to inform you before your arrival that I have hired some more help. Five extra people to be exact, you will meet them today along with the rest of us. This was all at no expense to you, I simply thought we would need some extra help.”

“Good, that’s wonderful. I am on my way to the airport now.”

“Excellent, see you shortly Mr. Kirby.”

Paul turned into the airport parking area, and pulled up next to an olive green jeep. Stepping out of the car, a deafening sound went off nearby. Paul ducked behind his car door for a split second. Slowly standing up, Paul walked to the nearby building and opened the glass door. Another bang. Paul stepped towards the counter.

“Hello?” Paul called across the counter. Was he in the wrong place? He double checked he was on the map. Another bang. Paul walked to the glass door that lead to the runway, and looked out. Three men all sitting behind a steel box, one of the holding something on and crouched further than the others. Paul looked closer and saw that he was holding a large rifle. Another bang, the barrel of the rifle flashed brightly. Another bang, this time directly after an even louder one followed, Paul caught himself on the counter by the door. All of the men outside were all laughing and celebrating. Paul sighed and pushed open the door, and called out to them. One of the men took off the headphones they were wearing.

“Ah, Mr Kirby! Welcome. My name is Mark Udesky.” He extended his hand. Paul shook his hand and looked at the flaming plane down range of the rifle. Paul pointed silently. “Yea, that would be Cooper's handy work. It was a dead plane anyway, we already took what we could use from it, and cooper had the idea to test his new ‘toy.’”

The man holding the rifle raised his hand while still aiming down the sight.

“So, where is the rest of the team that you hired?”

“On their way, in the meantime I'll introduce you to the ones here. First off, is cooper, who you have already been acquainted with, And Nash.

“Good morning Mr Kirby.” Nash stepped forward, he was significantly taller than Mr. Udesky, and more muscular than him too. Paul shook his hand.

“Nice to meet all of you, I’m thankful you all agreed to help me find my son.”

“No need to thank us, Mr Kirby. It's our pleasure. Plus we haven’t had much to do lately.” Udesky said, patting Paul on the shoulder. “ I’m going to go get us some breakfast to discuss everything over.” Udesky walked off towards the building. Paul walked towards Cooper, and sat in the chair next to him.

“What kind of rifle is that?” Cooper looked at him through his sunglasses.

“It’s a Barret M82, bought two weeks ago, never had a chance to use it until now. Currently trying to sight it in.” Paul looked at the large weapon. It looked like it was used to hunt elephants, it was so massive. The bullets were as long as his hand.

“Put these on. It’s extremely loud and you don’t want to damage your ears.”

Cooper slid a pair of headphones across the table towards Paul. He picked them up, and put them on his head. As the world went nearly silent, Cooper aimed down the sight, and fired the rifle. The sound was far quieter, but still startled Paul. Cooper tapped Paul on the shoulder and motioned to take his headphones off. “Fully sighted, works like a charm.”

“Do you mind if I fire it?” Paul asked. Cooper looked down at his rifle, then back at Paul.

“Have you fired a gun before?”

“Yes, I went hunting with my dad growing up.”

“Well this isn’t your typical hunting rifle.” He passed Paul the rifle and helped him adjust the stock. Putting on the headphones, Paul then shouldered the rifle, aiming down at the targets down range. “If you want an extra flash of fun, aim for the propane tanks next to the target.” He set the crosshair on the center of the target. He pulled the trigger and the weapon fired. Wincing, Paul rotated his arm, and groaned.

“She’s a strong one.” They both laughed. He looked through the scope again. He was too high.

“Oh, right, I set my scope so the perfect aim is right above the crosshair, I hate that it gets in the way.” Paul set the weapon again, before he felt a tap on his shoulder. He looks back, it was Nash.

“Mr. Kirby, can I get you to help me move some supplies quickly?”

“Sure thing.” Paul stood up and walked with Nash over to a nearby plane.

“These are the boxes we need to load into the plane, they are necessary supplies for our expedition to find your son.”

“Sounds good, i'll pass them to you, and you put them where they go in the plane.” Paul lifted the first box, straining at first, but corrected himself.

“The boxes are quite heavy, i can do it myself if its too much for you-“

“No, no its fine.” Paul cut him off. He handed the box to Nash. “So…” Paul lifted another box, this one surprisingly light. “Where are you from”

“I grew up in Nigeria, and moved to America when I was fourteen. Then I lived in Nevada for many years.” He took the box from Paul and set it down next to the other.

“What branch did you serve in?”

“Navy, I was a mechanic. I worked on planes and boats. If it has an engine I can fix it.”

“So I guess you are the one who works on planes here?”

“Correct, Udesky is too busy, and Cooper is ignorant when it comes to these things.”

Paul handed him the last box, and Nash put it in the plane. Nash took out a water bottle, and drank. After he did, he held out the bottle to Paul. Paul drank from the bottle and tossed it back to Nash.

“If you were so good in the military, why are you a merc now?” Paul asked. Nash sighed.

“One day, a plane went out for a flight, that one of our commanders was piloting. Something went wrong and it crashed in the ocean, and the pilot died. The platoon assumed I did it because I was black and hated the white commander. So they discharged me, since they couldn’t have me arrested for something they couldn’t prove I did.”

“Jesus. I’m sorry Nash, hopefully this is a decent substitute for you.”

“I enjoy what i do now far more. So no apology necessary.” Paul held out his hand and Nash shook it. He smiled at Paul and closed the plane door.

Both men returned to the entrance area of the airport and met with cooper.

“How did it go?” Cooper asked.

“The supplies are loaded, the plane is fueled, and no issues are found with the plane.”

“Perfect, now we just gotta wait for Udesky to get back, and we ship out at this time tomorrow.”

“I should really head back to the hotel soon, Amanda is probably waiting for me.”

“Nonsense Mr. Kirby, we still have breakfast to eat when udesky gets back, and the rest of the team should be here any moment.” Nash chuckled. Paul checked his watch, ten forty eight am. He had to admit he was hungry, and Amanda was well enough on her own. Just then udesky walked out of the glass door of the building and towards the men, and several people followed him and a large German Shepherd, carrying trays of coffee and bags of what he assumed was food.

“Mr. Kirby! Meet the rest of the team, Sara wrights, Rosa Rodriguez, Liana Simmons, and Beck Olson, and Robert Mckinly.”

“Nice to meet all of you, my name is Paul Kirby, thank you all for helping me in finding my son.”

“Let’s not just stand here, let's go to the lounge and eat.” Udesky waved his arm for them all to follow, cooper stood murmuring under his breath, and all of the rest began to follow. While walking, he stood next to a woman in a tan jacket and camouflage pants, who was walking with the dog by her side.

“What’s his name?” She turned her head sharply, and looked at Paul. “The dog, what’s his name?” Paul asked again.

“Oh, yes, his name is Charlie, he’s my search and rescue K9. Specially trained for finding people like your son.” Paul rubbed Charlie’s head, he felt a huge sense of relief knowing that a dog was there to help, he could sniff out where his son was.

“Is he good at what he does?”

“The best Mr. Kirby” Rosa said, smiling. “He has found kids trapped under ten feet of rubble after landslides, tracked kids for miles, and saved over twenty lives just last year alone.”

“So we got a little hero on our hands, he’s a good boy isn’t he.”

“Very.”

Udesky opened the door to the lounge and inside was a large table and a vending machine. Together, everyone sat at the round table and passed around coffee and egg sandwiches. Once everyone started eating Paul felt better about the people helping him. He felt lucky to have such willing people, like they actually cared about finding his son rather than this being just another job. He felt like at least Udesky and Nash did at least, and that was decent enough for him. He looked around at the faces surrounding him, Udesky and the bits of egg stuck in his mustache, Nash eating his food like he’s never eaten before, and Cooper, only sipping his coffee. He wasn’t sure of the others' names quite yet. A man with a stubble beard and cowboy hat was also drinking his coffee, but he was taking gulps at a time. He supposed that was Mckinly, and the man next to him was Olson. Paul shook his head, he shouldn’t judge these people just on how they look, or make assumptions about them. They were here to find his son.

Paul finished his meal, and through away his cup and the wrapper from his sandwich.

“Well, i got to go now, it was great to meet all of you. I will contact the experts I’m bringing, and we will ship out at eleven am tomorrow, and be to the island by one thirty pm.”

“Sounds good Mr. Kirby, we will see you tomorrow.”

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