Drunk Deer の小説・ストーリー

He smelled like the lazy heat of the sun settling in a pine forest, warm, peaceful, and safe. Skye in return licked under my chin and wagged his tail. Settling side by side, we dug into the soft underbelly of the fallen doe. I took the liver in two ravenous bites, sinking my muzzle into the cavern I had begun to excavate in the deer’s rib cage. Blood stained my fur and half blinded me but the gobs of hot rich viscera sliding down my throat was well worth it. Between two hungry werewolves, one deer rapidly became a pile of bones and scraps of blood drenched fur.

It was dense, almost Raw. “What the fuck was that?!” Matthew screamed, the sudden shock cutting through his drunken state as his body jolted forward against the seatbelt. My breath died in my throat. The car skidded across the center lane before I managed to slam my foot onto the brake, bringing the vehicle to stop on the gravel. The rock music was still blaring through the speakers, a sickeningly upbeat contrast to the horror paralyzing my chest. “Leo... man... did we hit a deer?” Matthew’s voice was shaking, his face pale as he stared out into the pitch black road behind us.

Jleb. The knife was stuck right in the head of the deer, making the deer move erratically due to Aiden's attack. Not content to hurt the deer, Aiden grabbed the deer's neck with all his strength. He pulled out the knife and plunged it back into his stomach, tearing it apart without any amusement or disgust.

I want to help him, but I don't know-how. A few minutes later three guys come dragging six large deer. They drop the deer to the ground, using their claws to skin them, while another guy gets a fire started. My eyes go back to Lucious as he continues to help with the wounded men. The low groans coming from the men fill the dark forest as bones are being snapped back into their rightful place to heal correctly. I look around at all the wounded men, taking in the aftermath destruction of my family's teeth and claws. Many of these guys barely make it out of the fight alive, while many of their friends weren't so lucky.

Teresa was looking at her mother’s eyes and grandma’s eyes were completely avoiding hers. Click. The back patio was now flooded with light and what I thought was a lump of cloth was indeed a game. A deer that was trying to breath but simply cannot because he had been loosing blood. A pool of blood was surrounding the deer. I would normally back out and vomit when I see something gross like this, strangely, my mouth watered.

I kissed her lips before going to chase the animal. I tried not to make any sound as I walked towards a certain deer my eyes fell on. I hid behind a tree when I saw the deer looking around. I knew it could sense my presence and that's why it started to move away; however, I was quicker as I launched on it, tackling it on the ground. The deer struggled in my arms, doing its best to escape, but my grip was strong. I pierced my fangs in its neck, causing it to let out a sound of pain. I hungrily drank the blood that oozed out of its neck; I needed it so badly.

If you have ever been drunk while driving you would understand how I feel, I almost is a shift of chances, I ran into a trailer because I was drunk and suddenly went into a sharp deep sleep on the starring, next was a bright headlight the vehicle sparkles out my consciousness when I knew I was face to face with a trailer. It was like a movie when a huge dog bounced on my car and pulled me out, the way my car was compressed from the smash of the heavy-duty trailer, one would describe the driver's body as shrinking into a squeezed paper. Drake pops up with an unplanned smile on his face and both of hugged each other like a brother who had missed the other and the unhugged.

The doe collapsed, paralyzed. Claire got up and stared into the dying deer’s eyes. She had never seen an animal die. People, yes. Many people. But never an animal. The deer screamed, scaring some birds away while attracting others. But she was not dying. Claire cocked her head, calm, violet eyes staring the deer’s crazed, brown eyes. “Why are you still trying to live?” she asked her.

I saw his knee bending, the hoof lifting: he was stepping into the car’s path. In the instant that I spent waiting for the deer to roll up over the car’s hood and crash through the windshield, I was aware of my body warm in the seat, Tristan’s face lit by the dash, Brooks breathing in the back, the cool sulfur glow of the car’s interior, the salty smell of the burger bag. I watched the deer’s knee and waited for it to straighten. I drew a sharp breath. The bumper missed the deer’s chest by an inch, maybe two. The animal’s muzzle passed so close that I could see the swirl of hair around his nostrils. Then he was gone behind us.