maskormenacelogs | la nuit du chasseur

Entry tags:

la nuit du chasseur

WHO: Gremlinmom & Gremlinson
WHERE: Park in Maurtia Falls
WHEN: During the last few weeks of Monster Plot
WHAT: Normal family outing (certainly no monsters)
WARNINGS: Body horror/gore/violence

[ The last days of summer. Andy figured she might as well make the most of a day off — spend some time with Martin, get out of the house. Anything besides sit around on the back porch and smoke, dwelling on her own shit. There was always something. It was, in a way, a small act of rebellion against her old habits to take Martin out to the park instead, a soccer ball tucked under her arm as she wandered out across the grass. As she glanced over at her son, she wondered if it was just her imagination, or if he'd gotten taller. He seemed taller. His hair longer. All of him, growing.

For a little while, they kicked the ball back and forth. It was... Comfortingly normal. Maybe too normal. Andy should've known better, really. Nothing ever stays normal around here for long.

It's just an odd rustling in the trees surrounding the field, but for some reason, the motion draws her eyes. A reaction born of some primitive instinct, maybe, back from the days when people hunted to eat. She squints into the shadows of that wooded area, trying to make out any shape. There's something there. Something lurking. She doesn't know why she feels like something's wrong, just... That she does. And her gut has always been smarter than her brain. So she beckons Martin to her with a wave of her hand, never taking her eyes off that place where she'd seen... Whatever that was.

To Martin: ]

Did you see that?

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[it seemed a little strange at first for Andy to want to go out and kick a ball around, but Martin rarely ever refused her, even if she often teased him for never being able to say no. he minded even less, since it was actually, mercifully, cloudy today, and so wandering outside didn't make him feel as though he were on a death march.

when Andy first notices peculiar movement, Martin's caught the ball and rolled it up onto his foot -- a trick one of the other kids at the Endeavor Center had taught him -- and let it settle back on the ground as he drew his leg back to kick. he stops short when he looks up and sees Andy not ready to receive, but gesturing him over instead. he blinks, hesitating for a beat before trotting over.

the question gives him pause, has him looking in the direction she was looking.

see? see what?

he quietly scans around for...he doesn't know what, but after a minute of shared silence, he shakes his head.]

N-no, I don't see anything. Was there--

[there's fast movement in his peripheral that clams him up and sends a sharp chill up his spine. he turns his head to follow it, just missing some shrubbery shaking with fast movement.]

There--it-- [whatever it is, it's circling?]

[ Yeah, there it is again — and not a slow thing either, whatever it is. The simplest explanation would be that it's some park-goer rummaging around in the bushes, maybe looking for a stray frisbee or maybe someone's pet dog running loose, but something about that movement... Andy's instinct knows it's not that. The hairs on the back of her neck are raised. Her hand comes to rest on Martin's shoulder when he's close enough, and she squeezes slightly.

Better safe than sorry, in this place. You never fucking know what the Porter will throw at you next. She still remembers the Shimmer — that bear-like creature she fought with Rex, with its gaping maw and razor-sharp claws.

Finally, with her eyes faintly narrowed: ]

...I'm going to have a look. [ She glances down at Martin, meeting his eyes. ] You can stay or you can come. It's your choice.

[Martin doesn't make it in time to reply, despite the ample amount of wait Andy gives him to do so before she parts to do as she says. his mouth closes without a word as he watches her stalk toward the bush line, a crawling sense of dread filling him.

they could just...leave, couldn't they? would it be better? what if it's a stray dog? he's dealt with enough of those to know it's better to just cut and run, but--]

Andy!

[he sees it before she does, coming from around the fencing far from her left. it's too fast to intercept himself, though he's already somehow started to move. lithe, loping legs convey it quickly across the distance, hunched forward like a drunkard, and its head bowed -- rickety antlers bared.

Martin yells wordlessly, feeling the impact in his gut even before he sees it happen to her.]

[ She catches a glimpse of it out of the corner of her eye — just a fleeting moment, right before the creature rams into her, jabbing those antlers into her gut hard enough to pierce skin and crack ribs as it drives her a several feet, her boots digging futilely into the ground. She hisses in pain through her bared teeth, grabbing the creature by the antlers as she tries to push back. Damn, what the fuck is that? It almost looks like a horse — a really ugly, horned, nasty horse.

Ugh. She's close enough to feet its hot breath on her as she struggles. ]

Martin — [ She tries to spot him around the monster's bulk, obscuring her view. ] Stay back — [ Ah, fuck, but that hurts! ] It's dangerous!

[ As if he couldn't see that, with his own two eyes. ]

[Martin is seized by horror at the sight of impact, his own gut clenching as he sees her impaled. not again! it really doesn't matter how many times, does it...

he doesn't process what she's yelling, only that she is, and that seems enough to spur him -- forward, not away. mind buzzing, not knowing what yet to do, panic grows as he grows closer to the lurching mass still being held in place by Andy's guts and grip.

what? what now? what would--what would anyone do?

at a loss, he just reaches, barely touching it and causing it to squeal and start to jerk away from Andy, a move which has Martin stumble backward, landing on his rear.]

[ Pain's still pain, all the same — no matter how used to it she is, and no matter how many times she's been maimed and mauled. It blurs her vision a little, makes it hard to see where Martin's gone, even though she strains to see him — more concerned with the boy than the jagged antler currently punched into her gut —

Suddenly, the creature lets out a terrible noise, suddenly pulling away from her, jerking its horn free as it thrashes, and she doesn't understand why until she finally spots Martin behind it. ]

Martin — hhh!

[ She stumbles forward and sinks to her knees, her arms folded over her abdomen, holding herself together as her body knits around the gaping wound there. ]

[it's apparent he didn't think this through.

after he hears Andy's pain-filled sounds, his own skin can only crawl as the creature turns its attentions to him properly. he pales to see what seems to be hanging flesh exposing bits of bone -- a familiar sort of sight, lacking the putrid, black blood monsters in Olvoski are famous for. familiar enough to be frightening.

he slowly steps backward, breath held, matching move for move as the thing starts to stalk him, rattling some kind of rotten sound through the craters in its face that flap loose skin. remembering what Kanan had told him about footing, he forces his eyes to watch its legs, the way muscle coils and expands with its movements, and the way its feet come together at a point, telegraphing a lunge that he can dive and roll aside from.

springing back up into his feet, he starts to run, with the creature incensed to give chase. Martin can't take much of their area in, but he sees the fence, and makes for that.]

[ Oh, gods, her son —

Andy tries to push herself to her feet, spilling blood from where her hand barely keeps her insides inside — and she staggers forward, stumbling again, driven more by willpower than anything else. Damn, but the deep wounds take so fucking long. She can feel her body knitting itself up, but not fast enough — not when she can see just ahead of her how that monster closes in on him.

A few more clumsy steps.

Then a few more.

She's building momentum as her body becomes whole again.

Finally, she bursts into a sprint, the tail of her hair whipping behind her as she tries to catch up with the beast and with Martin. Still too far to do much of anything. Leaning down as she goes, she manages to scoop up a small rock without slowing down too much, shouting as she chucks it at the creature's back — ]

Hey! Hey, motherfucker, over here!

[Martin's legs aren't very long yet, so the spring he takes up isn't so high, leaving him much more to scramble up as the monster chases, hot on his heels. he hoists his legs up to avoid a snap from naked jaws before its attention snaps around to the direction it was pelted. it has to decide what's more appealing, since it seems to not care about a threat, which means Martin only has so much time to heave his arms up to the top of the fence before the whole thing shakes when the creature's bulk is hefted against it.

it's not enough to make him slip off, but he's not going to get over this fence at all; he just focuses on not falling.]

[ The distraction she causes doesn't last. Whatever time she's bought for Martin — it wasn't enough. Already the creature is turning back towards him, ramming into the fence as he struggles to get over the top. How long can he hold on there? She's terrified that he'll fall, right down where the beast is waiting for him —

All she has is the pocketknife she always carries. Against an animal that big, she'd have to pick her targets well. Fuck it. She's been a hunter longer than she can remember. This isn't any worse than the Shimmer was — though she'd give an arm and a leg to have Rex there at her side right now.

At least her guts are mostly back where they should be. That means she can actually do something besides bleed desperately on the dirt. Her sprint gives her the momentum she needs to jump onto the monster's back, grabbing at the patches of spotty fur as she clings to it precariously, drawing her knife with the other hand. ]

That's my son, you fucking — [ She manages to get her arm around its neck, despite the fact that the creature has started to buck and thrash violently, trying to throw her off. It'll probably succeed in a minute, but not before she gets her small blade and stabs it right in the eye. ]

[with the beast struck and sent recoiling backward and off the fence, Martin can chance a breath and peer over his shoulder. he sees the flailing of neck and limbs, and how it teeters backward, toppling over itself, squashing Andy underneath. it makes his stomach tighten.

with another breath, Martin lets go, landing back on the ground and turning in time to see the thing starting to scramble to get itself upright, leaving Andy and her feeble pocket knife little chance to do move freely.

if she stays down there, maybe...]

Andy! D-Don't MOVE!

[he repeats it a couple times just in case, because he has no idea if he's heard, even as he's locking his arms forward into place and trying to get his aim just right...]

[ It hurts.

It hurts a fucking lot — and even Andy can't help the agonized sound that escapes her gritted teeth, her breathing quickened to pained huffs as the creature's weight crushes her small body underneath it. She had a horse fall on her once — in battle, though she can barely remember which one now — and it feels just like that, all the bones in her legs fucking shattered, fractures splintering as the beast flails on top of her, trying to right itself.

She couldn't get up even if she wanted to. Not yet.

All she can do is look up at Martin when he says her name, seeing him take a position she's seen before — aiming —

Her eyes go wide. She remembers with jarring suddenness — that day Cassandra called her, telling her that Martin had practically blown his own arm off — and a cold fear shoots straight through her. She sees herself reaching out uselessly for him, some noise coming from her throat that might have been his name, but — ]

[--but his elbows have already locked up, and the flesh has already begun to split at his wrists and palms as black fluid bubbles up and pulses, forming and hardening to one of the lances he is known for. it sends him skidding backward with the force at which it flies, launched at, into, and nearly through the monster atop his mother. both go sailing, and the lance is barely finished forming before its integrity fails and it dissolves, leaving the monster to roll and writhe with its gaping wounds alone.

Martin, once his heels dug in and stopped him from teetering over, rocked forward with the residual momentum to race over to and drop to Andy's side, his eyes big. he means to grab her wrist to pull her upright, but his senses catch up and halt him before he can get his hands on her.]

Get up! We, we should run...!

[ She holds her breath until the lance flies free, not sure exactly what she was expecting, but feeling a flood of relief that Martin seems mostly intact afterward. It's enough that she practically forgot about how much pain her whole body is in, even as it starts to put itself back together. These types of injuries — the ones where everything feels broken — they heal slower than the rest, even at her age. By the time Martin comes to her, urging her to run, things are only halfway there, her legs still all awkward angles and splintered bones.

The pain she can endure. But there's not much she can do, without literal legs to stand on.

Still, Andy tries. She stumbles one or two steps, but her fractured limbs give out too quickly. She needs more time. ]

Go — [ She gives Martin a little push. ] Leave me. I'll be fine.

[Martin flinches at how she staggers back down, his stomach dropping. without thinking, he's grabbed hold to keep her from falling on her face, bullying past her shove to stay in place.]

No! Not without--!

[he looks over her shoulder when he hears the thing let out more sound, starting to get itself back up on four limbs. bristling, Martin ducks his head and much of himself against Andy, trying to pull more of her weight over him and get her back on her feet.]

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la nuit du chasseur

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