I’ve been great about updating this blog. I’m still writing. I’m midway through another novel. It’s a stand alone book rather than a sequel to Antigen. The idea right now is that I’ll finish this one and follow up with a pair of sequels to complete a trilogy.
In the mean time, here’s a quick story I wrote a few months ago.
The Sentinel and the Beast
The nearly silent creak of hinges woke me enough to half open one eye and check the room. Nothing seemed amiss, other than a closet door that was two inches open. The boy had closed it before he went to bed. I opened my other eye and watched, but my body remained still. Still and ready.
The door creaked open a few more inches and I saw the first sign of the beast. A green claw had hold of the bottom of the door and a glowing yellow eye peered out. A low growl rose in my throat, but still I waited. The door opened further and the beast emerged from the dark of the closet.
Snarling, I pounced.
The beast’s powerful claws wrapped around me, its odor clogged my nose, its bitter ichor stuck to my muzzle as I tore at it with my teeth. The beast roared and twisted. I growled and shook.
Round and round we went. I forced it back to the closet. It pushed me back to the boy’s dresser. A shake of my head threw us against the boy’s bed; a swipe of its tail tossed me against the door.
The boy awoke crying in the middle of the battle.
“Mommy!” the boy called to his mother. As if she could defend him.
I snapped out a pair of quick barks to ensure the woman would hear his cries, but also to summon his father. I thought I could handle the beast, but discretion has always been the greater part of valor.
The barks unsettled the beast and it retreated toward the closet. I closed in again and harried it further. Get thee gone, foul creature! The beast finally slithered back into the darkness of the closet and pulled the door closed behind it. I stood mere inches away and focused my concentration on it. A couple more short barks let it know I was still there and it stood no chance should it venture forth again.
The door to the boy’s room opened and the light flicked on.
“What’s going on in here?” the boy’s father demanded.
“Oh my,” his mother said a moment later.
I looked back over my shoulder and saw them standing in the doorway, looks of shock on their faces. Coming so close to the enemy can do that.
“My dinosaur,” said the boy. He sounded afraid. He should. White tufts of the beast were scattered about the room and stuck to my fur. He’s lucky I was here.
The woman sniffed. “Is that my eucalyptus lotion?” The beast’s ichor coated the room.
“Bad dog,” the father said. He dragged me by the collar from the room to the front door. “You can sleep on the porch tonight, Elmore.” He opened the front door and nudged me outside with his foot.
My body may be cold tonight, but my heart will be warm with the satisfaction of a job well done.