0 :: Carnage

▲▼▲▼

MORBID BITE

Prologue: Carnage

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

▲▼▲▼

December 18th 1864. Chartres.

An already deep white shield covered the valley as the snow fell heavily onto the ground. The evergreen trees were just visible through the blizzard, their stumps hidden under the white blanket. Yet, the idyllic scene was eerily silent, the birds quiet in the trees, the animals hidden, and a metallic smell of blood filled the air. Among a clearing in the trees there lay a sea of scarlet blood and torn off limbs which scattered the ground. The screams of the victims could still be heard echoing around the clearing in the forest. In the trodden snow lay a boy, surrounded by the circle of cadavers. His skin was pink with the cold and his eyes shut, furrowing his youthful brow into deep lines. The snowflakes melted on his warm skin as his chest rose at a jagged speed. His body did not seem affected by the icy winds that howled around him. The child's hair was plastered to his face in a frozen blooded halo. A small cough escaped his mouth, revealing a cut cheek that spilt blood onto the snow. A thudding trembled the earth, a rude awakening for the boy, whose eyes shot open and quickly refocused. His grey eyes were unfazed by the horror around him.

The pounding came to a steady pace as three blue-coated infantry soldiers emerged through the forest to enter the carnage. Their faces were flushed, and their bayonets drawn. All three stumbled to a halt when they noticed the bodies that crunched under their feet.

"Oh putain," one of the soldiers whispered as he removed his bicorn to respect the dead.

The boys back faced the three men, his body absolutely still, he could sense their presence, but was terrified it could be the person responsible for the death around him back to finish him off. His eyes darted around, frantically searching for some sort of weapon within his reach. All he could remember was red everywhere, the screams of his father's friends as they were ripped apart, with a petrifying ruthlessness.

One of the men kneeled down into the snow, just beside the boy. But his attention was drawn to a severed arm. The boys body too hidden among the blood to draw his attention.

"What the hell happened?" the Sergeant exclaimed; turning a gold ring around the finger of the hand he was studying.

"We're not sure, sergeant. One of the villagers stumbled across...this." The man gestured to the bodies. "She was hysterical and wouldn't stop screaming, we all thought she was exaggerating." His face went pale as looked down at the torn-up bodies.

The other soldier gagged as his frozen boot stepped through the rotting flesh of a man's jaw. Without warning he vomited over one of the figures, his stomach unable to cope with the horrific sight. His hands dug into to his diaphragm, trying to stop his breakfast from reappearing. The sergeant looked disapprovingly at the soldier as the smell of vomit mixed with the already putrid air.

"Try to identify the bodies," the sergeant said turning to the one soldier who was only white with shock. "And, you," he spat, pointing at the vomiting man, "Run back to the village and tell them that the missing hunting party has been..." The sergeant was stopped as he heard the boy moan. He placed a hand on the boys blooded back, turning his tiny body in the snow.

"My god he's alive!"

The other solider jumped over the bodies, ripping off his jacket and throwing it over the naked boy. He kneeled down helping him to sit up and tightened the cloak over the child.

"Mon garçon, what happened?" the sergeant asked. He watched the boy, a look of concern covering his face.

The boy sat shivering his eyes heavy and sore. His throat felt hoarse and tender as his spoke. "I...I...do not know monsieur..." he drifted off as his eyes scanned over the bodies lying around him. He brought his legs up to his chest, pulling the soldiers jacket tight around him as an icy awareness washed over him. A pair of glazed eyes stared at through the red scene.

"Papa," he screeched.

The soldiers were not quick enough to stop the boy as he darted over to the decapitated head of his father. He reached out his pink hand to touch his father's head, but he could not bring himself to touch it. His father's face had a deafening look of horror, his mouth was wide open in his last scream of panic. The boy began to cry, his tears cleaning away the blood and dirt from his cheeks. His tiny body shaking under the soldier's jacket. The sergeant placed a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder, gently so not to startle him.

"Mon garçon, we do not want to be out here, the bear could still come back." The boy span round, his blood shot eyes wide open as his tears cleared and his body trembled

"It was no bear! It was a monster!" the boy yelled at the soldiers.

The scream cut through the air, hitting off of the snow and bouncing back through the clearing. The sergeant snatched his hand away from the boy, the outburst felt like a slap across his knuckles. The boy's grey eyes glared at him with such fear and pain, he could not believe they belonged to a child. He knew whatever he said to try and comfort him would never be enough. What could be said to calm the boy? The horrors he must have witnessed were brutal and unimaginable.

The sergeant sighed before placing his hand back onto the boy who did nothing to remove the adults' touch. "Then we shall find this monster. And we will kill it." He lied, thinking of the only words to comfort the scared child.

The boy's face was blank as his legs trembled under the weight of his body. The adrenaline draining from him as he stood up. He tightened the cloak around himself, the cold was threatening to bite at his bare chest. A raven came to settle on the bodies, its black eyes staring like the devil at the boy, its jet-black beak peaking at the exposed muscle. All of a sudden, the boy doubled over in pain.

"Ahhh," he screamed, his hands grabbing at his chest, tearing at the skin; it felt like fire traveling throughout his veins.

"Mon garçon, what's wrong?" The sergeant extended a gloved hand to steady the boy.

"Get off of me!" The boy shrugged him off and bolted the jacket falling from his shoulders. He began to breathe heavily, a wheezing sound erupting from his lungs. His eyes stared at the ground, a look of true realization and fear surging through him.

The sergeant grabbed but the boy raced off into the lit forest. Not wanting to leave the boy alone he followed, drawing his sword in case the bear reappeared. The branches slammed the sergeant in the face, cutting the delicate skin under his eyes and around his neck. The snow began to fall heavily again, drifting through the canopies of the trees and settling in front of the man's vision. The boy was only just in sight and at any second he could lose him in the obscured light. He pumped his legs faster, but the wet woollen breeches slowed him down and the boy vanished. The sergeant came to an abrupt halt and he yelled for the boy to come back. When only his echo answered he slammed his sword back into its sleeve. A howl pierced the air, the eerie sound sending a bolt down his spine. He removed his musket from his shoulder and held it up to his eyes. The forest was still again and all he could hear was the wind as it wailed through the trees. He gulped, his breath becoming ragged. His eyes skimmed the darkness searching for where the sound had come from. Before he could turn back, a deep growl emerged from the trees. Two red eyes appeared in the sergeant's view. A massive black head reared up, the monster towered above him and all he could do was look on in terror. His weapon clattered to the ground as a gut curdling screamed left his mouth, the monster had ripped out his throat.

▲▼▲▼

Here is the prologue, I hope you enjoyed it. I know some people are unsure about prologues/prefaces but I find them great and fun to write. Please leave comments and vote if you enjoyed it. Current cover is made by @Forcade - and just stop for a moment to marvel at its beauty...

The cover on the side is made by distanthearts check out her works, because as well as being a very talented graphic designer her writing is also very good!

Mon garçon: My boy

Thanks to weekender for the French help.

2021: updated