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Walking Woodline

Ever wonder if anything is watching you in the woods? what's really making those snapping sounds? You see it out in the corner of your eye, some black shape hidden behind a tree. Maybe we're never alone in the woods Join Simon in this survival thriller as he steps into the eldrich truth of the Walking Woodline author note: my first novel! I'll be submitting more chapters later on. thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy!

MakeItReign · Horreur
Pas assez d’évaluations
3 Chs

step ahead

Simon Dorinel dreamed of home. He recalls the smell of fresh pancakes, the rising sun shining thru the kitchen blinders and his wife, Felicia, whose rich brown hair outshines the sunrise.

"Amore, will you come home? I'm scared." she asks in a frightened voice.

Simon replies with a gentle tone, " I'm here now baby." He wraps his arms around her shoulders to hold her close.

"I'm home for good. I promise." he whispers with a slight squeeze.

'Will you now?" Felicia utters with a tight throat and her head low in his chest.

The smell of pancakes started to burn, leading to the stench of sulfur that stung Simon's nose.

Felicia ignites in a white flash.

She screams in agony, "How can you come home when you burned it down!"

Simon wakes drenched in sweat. The humidity in the tent makes it no better. As Simon's eyes adjust to the light seeping out the torn tent top, he gathers his surroundings, looking around the distraught tent.

There is a long jagged gash along the roof as if a whip cracked through with cots and boxes of medical supplies strewn across the floor.

Simon leaned forward from his cot, he noticed his left hand has a needle that is still attached to a half empty IV bag on a rack fallen over among a black puddle of blood.

He remains frozen in shock as he studies the puddle. There are clumps of dried specks from the coagulating process, leading Simon to assume he has been asleep for quite some time. He notices a trail leading to a flipped cot next to him. He leans closer to see a hand peeking from the bottom reaching out to him. Upon instinct, Simon grabs the hand to help the fellow survivor only to pull out a severed arm.

Simon screams in disgust as he throws the severed arm, flinching from his bed to land in more dried blood puddles with a loud splash.

As Simon sits up, covered in coagulated blood, the stench of decaying flesh begins to overwhelm him. In horror, Simon realizes that there are severed arms and severed legs strewn among the blood puddles in the torn tent.

Simon whispers in a shaky tone, "What in gods name happened here?"

He uses his arms to stand up, where he loses balance leading him to fall forward, making a splashing sound spraying blood everywhere

"What's up with my leg?" he asks himself. It feels like its still asleep. He rolls over to shake his leg awake, get his blood flowing back in it just to find a bandage where his left leg used to be below his knee.

"OH MY GOD!" he screams in pure terror. His mind is racing, trying to recall the events that lead him here, hyperventilating, touching in panic around where his leg is gone.

He remembers a white flash; before this flash, he also remembers being tasked for patrol with his platoon.

A click sound echoes in his mind with a picture of a teary eyed teenager knowing he set foot on death.

One name echoes in his mind, Horrucks.

This name brings tears to Simons eyes. He remembers promising to bring Horrucks home. More sounds began to race through his mind. Gunshots. The spinning blades of a helicopter.

"Oh god." He weeps with bloody hands on his face.  The racing thoughts and sounds begin to slow down as Simon inhales through his nose then exhales out his pursed, quivering lips despite the smell of rotten flesh.

"Breath." Simon reminded himself. "I cannot afford to break here."

Don't think about this now. Remember what needs to be done.

What exactly needs to be done?

Everyone is dead and you're a cripple! Dark, hopeless thoughts began to swarm his mind.

Just survive

Simon replies to these negative thoughts, continuing his breathing to clear his mind.

After a brief pause of the wind blowing, gently rocking the torn and bloody tent. Simon turns his head to the torn roof, interrupts this pause with, "What do I do now?"

---

Using a crutch found unaffected by the chaos, he limped around the bloody tent leading out to an empty camp with tents and more severed limbs rotting in the high noon sun shining through the tall woodline. After surveying the area this is what Simon can gather:

Following the white flash, he was brought to a field hospital to treat his injuries that include his amputated leg and some extracted shrapnel judging from the white patches around his body. This means if he needs to travel he'll need pain meds as it will soon be painful to move.

What Simon cant wrap his head around is why there are severed limbs everywhere. There are guns with brass all over the ground in all directions. If this was an attack, it would have been focused or flanking point, with brass laying everywhere , leads Simon to believe these men were firing in random directions.

With this in mind, he tries to find a command tent where hopefully he'll find a radio to call on an emergency net.

Next to a river, Simon finds a torn, tan tent with tall green poles leaning over from being knocked over from the wind. He recognizes the the poles as antennas for radios and makes haste towards the tent.

No surprise to Simon, there are more severed arms, legs and brass everywhere in the radio tent, even the same gash through the roof.

More questions arise in Simons mind; Why are gashes all over the tents? is this how this cruel enemy infiltrates? Through the roof even? What disturbs him deeply is why they left limbs everywhere? A demoralizing tactic?

These questions are interrupted  as Simon spots a small table with radio equipment knocked over next to a water puddle.

---

As the sun begins to set, giving an orange glow to Simon's tent, he begins his mental checklist:

Radio works ,if not barely due to resting in the water for some time. Still, it turns on. So long as he heads to a high area such as a hill he spotted in the distance, the radio can reach up to 2000 miles for help.

Next, what equipment can he carry with one leg and a body with small gashes?

An assault pack with pain medication, food packs for three days, matches, flares, the radio with an extended antenna and microphone.

Finally, an M4 rifle with four 30 round magazines for protection against whoever attacked the field hospital.

The highest hill Simon could see was on the left to the sunset, approximately 2 miles from what Simon can judge scanning the horizon.

I could drive there. Simon thought to himself. Fortunately, I still have a  right leg for the gas pedal to drive the humvees still in good condition despite the attack.

On the other hand, this is unfamiliar territory. Simon confirms that driving is a bad idea with the following points; he isn't aware of what kind of terrain to expect, IEDs or even whoever attacked the field hospital.

His only option is to crawl. Simon would use his crutches, however, using them would expose himself to everything with ears and the last thing he needs is to draw attention to himself in his condition.

After completing his mental checklist, Simon begins to realize it's almost dark with the orange color begins to fade from the tent. The crawl will have to wait until daytime so he can traverse the terrain with ease and scan anyone approaching him.

Simon prepares to rest for the night in one of the humvees. He thinks to himself, at least I can fit easier in the back seats with one leg. This fails to brighten the mood.