BricketyBrick
New member
- Oct 7, 2010
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you humor me please)? This is a small portion of a novel I'm writing. I'd appreciate any input you'd like to offer. Thanks.
Mary felt rather anxious. How long would they have to sit here in the dark before their carriage arrived? What if whoever it was had forgotten about picking them up in the first place?
Unseen creatures rustled the trees and underbrush around them. Strange animal noises mingled with the familiar chirping of crickets. Far off in the distance, she could hear the unmistakable sound of wolves howling. She fought a heart-pounding sensation of panic. She’d always found that sound disquieting. As a young child, she’d been plagued by nightmares about being attacked by wolves. She didn’t relish the idea that she and her parents were sitting on a desolate train platform in the middle of a dark, creepy Romanian forest, with nothing to protect them from whatever was slavering and stalking around out there.
“When will the carriage arrive?” She finally asked, unable to stand not knowing.
“Supposedly at sunrise,” her father replied.
Mary sighed. “I really don’t like this,” she gestured at their surroundings.
“Yes, I know. I hear the wolves,” he said. His voice contained a barely noticeable hint of derision, but Mary picked up on it instantly. She knew he found her fear of them ridiculous. Her father prided himself on his bravery and had never been able to tolerate or understand anyone else fearing anything at all, especially his own flesh and blood. She wished she hadn’t said anything.
She propped her chin on her hands, her elbows on her knees, and stared at the weathered wooden planks under her feet. She studied the scuffs on the toe caps of her black and white high button shoes. For having trekked through the woods as many times as she had whilst wearing them, they were in surprisingly good shape. She tapped the toes together rhythmically. She tried to ignore the scurrying amongst the trees, the chilling peal of the wolves’ howling, and the impenetrable darkness around them.
The longer they sat in silence, the more troubled she became. She could sense an intangible sort of malevolence lying in wait nearby. There was no physical explanation for it, but she felt it just as strongly as if she was able to make out a pack of wolves poised to rip her to shreds. Anytime she stared too long into the blackness between the trees on the other side of the tracks, she was overcome with a sensation of abject terror so powerful that she had to look away. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something out there was watching them as if appraising their potential as a meal, and she was afraid that if she gazed into the darkness for too long, she’d be able to see it staring back.
P.S. I have no idea how to make indents appear on this site. And also, this is not a werewolf story, in case anyone is going accuse me of jumping on some kind of Taylor Lautner fan-wagon. I am not a Twilight lover.
Mary felt rather anxious. How long would they have to sit here in the dark before their carriage arrived? What if whoever it was had forgotten about picking them up in the first place?
Unseen creatures rustled the trees and underbrush around them. Strange animal noises mingled with the familiar chirping of crickets. Far off in the distance, she could hear the unmistakable sound of wolves howling. She fought a heart-pounding sensation of panic. She’d always found that sound disquieting. As a young child, she’d been plagued by nightmares about being attacked by wolves. She didn’t relish the idea that she and her parents were sitting on a desolate train platform in the middle of a dark, creepy Romanian forest, with nothing to protect them from whatever was slavering and stalking around out there.
“When will the carriage arrive?” She finally asked, unable to stand not knowing.
“Supposedly at sunrise,” her father replied.
Mary sighed. “I really don’t like this,” she gestured at their surroundings.
“Yes, I know. I hear the wolves,” he said. His voice contained a barely noticeable hint of derision, but Mary picked up on it instantly. She knew he found her fear of them ridiculous. Her father prided himself on his bravery and had never been able to tolerate or understand anyone else fearing anything at all, especially his own flesh and blood. She wished she hadn’t said anything.
She propped her chin on her hands, her elbows on her knees, and stared at the weathered wooden planks under her feet. She studied the scuffs on the toe caps of her black and white high button shoes. For having trekked through the woods as many times as she had whilst wearing them, they were in surprisingly good shape. She tapped the toes together rhythmically. She tried to ignore the scurrying amongst the trees, the chilling peal of the wolves’ howling, and the impenetrable darkness around them.
The longer they sat in silence, the more troubled she became. She could sense an intangible sort of malevolence lying in wait nearby. There was no physical explanation for it, but she felt it just as strongly as if she was able to make out a pack of wolves poised to rip her to shreds. Anytime she stared too long into the blackness between the trees on the other side of the tracks, she was overcome with a sensation of abject terror so powerful that she had to look away. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something out there was watching them as if appraising their potential as a meal, and she was afraid that if she gazed into the darkness for too long, she’d be able to see it staring back.
P.S. I have no idea how to make indents appear on this site. And also, this is not a werewolf story, in case anyone is going accuse me of jumping on some kind of Taylor Lautner fan-wagon. I am not a Twilight lover.
