May 10, 2012

Excerpt from Shape-shifters and Succubae

The girls clear the area as completely as possible; packing everything that will fit, into the cauldron.  In an effort to escape further harangue, Jodi offers to take the burned wood and disposable items to one of the large waste containers outside the cemetery keeper’s house.  As she is returning to the mausoleum, a grey fox steps out from behind a bush.  Jodi is startled by the animal at first and freezes; with a murmur full of trepidation she says softly,
“Hey--little fella--what are you doin’ out here--so late?”
 The animal looks up at Jodi, tongue hanging from its open mouth, breathing slowly.  Jodi stares at the fox, it’s luminous pupils roil in onyx and crimson. 
“Wow!  That is so weird, the eyes are different colors!”
 She continues to stare, transfixed. 
“Well--goodnight--little--one--you--should--you should go find your mother!”
 Still facing the animal, Jodi backs away slowly, not wanting to startle it.  When she’s about forty-feet away, Jodi turns around and runs to catch up to the others.  The fox sits on its haunches, watching Jodi run. The animal stands and walks slowly towards where it entered the scene, stops abruptly, and turns around once again, spying the girls make their way across the expanse of cemetery.  While watching the departed girls, the pupils of the fox roil in onyx and crimson luminosity. The animal withdraws its tongue; it’s slow pant becomes a fang-baring leer.  The leer drops away; the fox dips its head, turns tail and almost as if
laughing in mock, begins yipping as it trots into the darkness, completely out of sight.