Sunday, October 25, 2009

My Short Story, "Strike of the Bigfoot"

It was daybreak. The suns rays were now lighting up the landscape. Luke was happy to see the light, the darkness frightened him a bit. Sure he had been out in the woods before, but never totally alone. Today was his very first day of buck season and his father let him sit all by himself. Luke wanted to make his father proud, he wanted to prove that he could bag a trophy white tailed deer, like all those hanging on their wall back home. The forest was filled with its usual sounds, tiny birds chirping to each other, squirrels chattering as they hurled verbal abuse towards one another. The ground was white with a new dusting of snow and Luke could see his own hot breath on the icy cold morning air. “A deer had better show up right about now,” Luke thought to himself, already feeling irritable and impatient. Patience was not one of young Luke’s strong points but is it for any 12 year old? A strange looking black rock caught Luke’s attention, he didn’t remember seeing it there before but rocks don’t just get up and move. The black rock then, as if by magic, grew arms and legs and stood up and started to walk. “What in the hell is that animal?” Luke said out loud to himself. No animal walks upright like that, but that clearly isn’t human either. Puzzled and a bit scared Luke realized he had lost sight of the mysterious creature. It was gone and Luke was all alone again. No longer could he hear any of the animal noises he had been listening to all morning, it was dead silent. Then he heard a twig snap and he slowly turned his head to the right.
There he was, standing in front of Luke, the legendary Bigfoot himself! With his mighty arms stretched above his huge head, he stood over 8 feet tall. The creature was covered in hair and there was a stench about him that could peel paint off of a house. His human and monkey looking face showed furious anger. His massive jaw hung open baring his human-like teeth, all but the k-9’s, which hung in his mouth like daggers, dripping with saliva. The monster’s beady little eyes were solid red, like flames they flickered with fury. His claws were sickles, each one sharp enough to cut tree trunks in half. He was here, he was real and he was fucking pissed off. Then, all of a sudden a deep rumble began in his throat, his chest swelled and the Bigfoot let out this, god-awful roar. It shook the very tree Luke was sitting under. If Luke hadn’t been frozen with fear he would have covered his ears. Luke’s chin shook, he wanted to cry or scream or call for help but nothing came out, nothing came out other than urine. Luke peed his pants.
Like an angry worried mother, Luke’s mind was yelling at him, “Shoot it! Shoot it!” Luke’s hands clenched the gun but when they became tight they began to tremble and shake violently, he couldn’t hold it any longer because he was petrified with fear. The rifle slid slowly off his lap and onto the ground. The Sasquatch reached down, never taking his glare off of Luke’s terrified eyes. He picked up the rifle and held it at both ends with his brown dirty mitts. The colossal biceps bulged and flexed. He started to bend the gun, the metal creaked under the pressure and the wood cracked and splintered until the once straight gun was in a U shape, then with a half hearted toss to the side he threw the gun. That very gun brought down elk, deer and even a bear, but it was now as useless as the other sticks it lied next to in the snow.
The horrible beast took a step toward the frightened young hunter with his humungous foot. He reached out with his terrible meat hooks and grabbed Luke by his jacket. The coat was big so the Bigfoot had an easy time gathering the boy in his clutches. He pulled Luke in closer as he lifted him up in the air. The monster’s ugly awful face was now just inches from Luke’s. Luke could smell the stank breath of the Yeti, he could even see the rotting flesh caught in the huge teeth of whatever it was the creature had just killed and ate. Luke knew this living myth was just going to rip his arms out of their sockets and there was no avoiding it…or was there?
Luke remembered what the police who came to his school taught the kids. His mother also told him the same thing. There was but one way to dispatch a full grown man, no matter what his size. One special area, that if struck, would render a man incapacitated, allowing for an escape. It was Luke’s only chance. He looked down to the V where the bulky thighs met, this was his target. Luke pulled back his leg, this was easy because he was dangling in mid air like a butchered side of beef. The boy imagined a red rubber voit ball bouncing towards him in the most important game of kick ball of his short life. Luke was going for the home run. The desperate child wound up and kicked, he used all his might, all his strength, all his power, Luke put every bit of him into that kick and it was a direct hit. The enormous creature’s hideous face went from pure rage to a blank look, then tears swelled up in his red eyes, which now had lost their tiny flicker of wrath. A revengeful evil little grin started to spread across Luke’s face. Then the immense brows of Bigfoot furrowed, they came together so tight that they could have snapped a stick in half. His eye’s squinted and they glowed a furious red rage again. Sasquatch’s nostrils flared and Luke could hear the air being sucked in. His ivory teeth grinded together so rigid that Luke actually thought they may break. Bigfoot’s grip tightened and a low rumble, like a distant thunder clap, began to grow deep within his body. The sound came rushing up the throat like a geyser. His jaw dropped to 180 degrees and he let out the world’s most dreadful scream ever uttered by any living being since the dawn of time. Luke’s face was covered in spit and his hair was blown back, both of Luke’s ear drums exploded and shot blood out like a fountain. The yell actually broke sticks behind Luke’s head and it could be heard for 3.4 miles in every direction. Rocks split, a nearby squirrel lost his nuts, a bird flew into a tree, a chipmunk fell over dead and Luke, all empty of urine now emptied his bowels.
Luke had thought about death before, most people have. Would it be a car wreck of twisted metal and shattered glass to end Luke’s life? Maybe a rare heart condition would bring Luke to an end. Perhaps a common disease like aids or cancer would finally kill him off. Even in Luke’s wildest dreams and to the depths of his imagination he never, ever, EVER thought his demise would come by a Bigfoot tearing him apart, limb from bloody limb. At this point, in one smooth motion the crypto maniac let go of Luke and regained the clench at Luke’s wrists. Dangling like a rag doll, the abominable snow man began to spin Luke around in giant circles like an Olympic Hammer Thrower. Trees, leaves, sticks, branches, logs, the sky and the ground blurred into one uniform color as Luke spun, with each turn the ape-man gained speed. Luke screamed like a girl. If Luke wasn’t about to die this ride would have been better than any roller coaster on earth. All of a sudden, with a mighty groan Bigfoot released his grip. Luke flew high into the air, he hit branches and twigs, breaking tree limbs as he flew wildly through the forest sky. The tree’s outstretched branches unmercifully whipped Luke’s face as his arms and legs flailed. Like a cannon ball Luke’s body came crashing down through the boughs and landed with a great thud.
Had this throw come in an open field with no resistance, Luke would have easily been tossed 60 yards and slid another 5 yards before stopping. This throw came amongst trees however and they slowed him down so Luke only went about 40 yards. Now Luke would have never considered any part of this to be lucky, but this landing just happened to be very lucky because Luke didn’t end up on a stump or a rock or a log, no, he landed on a soft part of the forest floor. The hairy man let out a triumphant howl and beat his enormous chest with his sledgehammer-like fists. Luke opened his eyes, he began to feel his body part by part, miraculously he was ok, other than the cuts on his face. He could see Bigfoot regaining his composure and started a determined march with a single purpose right towards him. Bigfoot wasn’t done yet and he was coming over to finish the job. With as much gracefulness as a drunkard, Luke tried to get to his hands and knees. The world was still spinning. The last time Luke remembered being this dizzy was when his older sister tied him to a merry-go-round at the park and left him for several hours. In spite of this he had to get to his feet so he could run. The Sasquatch sensed this too and like a great locomotive he charged the boy, great puffs of steam poured out of the beast’s nose. Luke got to his hands and knees but didn’t have the strength to stand, let alone run for his life. The hatred filled Sasquatch was moving now like a tremendous machine. The youth looked over to see the wild man of the woods leave his big feet with a flying leap that would have made any professional athlete jealous. As he flew through the air towards Luke it was as if time slowed down. Luke saw the big foot extended as the creature began his decent. Closer it came with much force and power and all Luke could do was think to himself, “I probably shouldn’t have kicked him in the crotch like that.”

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