Experiment #1
Aug. 11th, 2004 06:31 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bewareofgeekLet Sleeping Wolves Lie
Jimmy Sanders knew better than to take the shortcut through Deacon Park. Even at the tender age of nine, he'd heard tales (from his parents) of the dangers of strangers, and also (from his friends) about wild animals and dark mysteries of the wooded region
For the most part, then, he was content to take the long way home, even if it was a half-hour of walking. But on this sunny spring day, he didn't have much choice. Phillip Jeffries, athlete, bully, and likely future shoe salesman, was in a bad mood, and the fact that Jimmy was smaller, weaker, and no real threat at all made him the perfect target.
So, when he first heard the shouted "Hey, Chocolate Jimmies!" our young hero took off on a run, such as it was. He knew his duck-like stride wouldn't help any, but it was the best he could do. As Phil closed in, Jimmy turned in panic, and headed for the shelter of the trees.
As he rushed headlong into the forbidden forest, he could hear Phil crash into the trees behind him, accompanied by a chorus of grunts, shouts, and the sort of language that would get Jimmy's mouth washed out.
Heart thumping, he ran on, as the branches whipped across his face and arms. The sweat gathered on his brow, despite the shade of the trees, and blinded him. Perhaps this is why he missed the rather large root.
He crashed to the ground, glasses and bookbag flying. Wincing with pain, he tried to stand, but his right leg buckled underneath him. He slumped to the ground, and awaited the inevitable.
Within moments, Phil arrived, a ball of juvenile fury. He unceremoniously began punching and kicking Jimmy, all the while complaining about the injustice of it all. How dare Jimmy make him _work_ for his fun?
Flinching from every blow, Jimmy was in no condition to rebut. His head spun, and he felt dizzy. Phil straddled him, eyes glittering with proto-sadistic glee.
A shadow blocked out the sun.
"You spoiled my nap" a low voice rumbled. Jimmy felt Phil's weight being lifted from his torso. Through blurry eyes he saw a _huge_ figure, holding his tormentor off the ground by one arm.
"I was having the most wonderful dream, and you ruined it. Now, the way I see it, we have two choices."
The figure shook Phil. "Are you listening?"
Phil's head bobbed.
"One: You leave now, and never enter my lands again."
The voice shifted, dripping with menace. "Or two...you join me for lunch."
Jimmy heard a quiet whimper, and smelled an all-too-familiar (and socially embarassing) odor. The stranger lowered Phil to his feet.
"Well?"
Within moments, he and Jimmy were alone.
Then the stranger crouched momentarily, and moved over to where Jimmy was lying, and reached out a massive hand. Jimmy blinked, and blearily made out his glasses in the stranger's palm.
He put them on, wincing slightly. Looking up, he saw a kindly bearded face, watching him from beneath a dark brown hat. "Are you OK, boy?"
Jimmy shook his head "Nossir. I think I hurt my leg."
"Well then, we'll have to take care of that, before I take you home."
With seemingly no effort, he gently scooped Jimmy up in his arms, snagging the fallen bag in passing. "What's your name? I can hardly keep calling you boy."
"Jimmy", he replied, muzzily.
"Well met, young Jimmy. You can call me Wolf..."
To be continued?
Jimmy Sanders knew better than to take the shortcut through Deacon Park. Even at the tender age of nine, he'd heard tales (from his parents) of the dangers of strangers, and also (from his friends) about wild animals and dark mysteries of the wooded region
For the most part, then, he was content to take the long way home, even if it was a half-hour of walking. But on this sunny spring day, he didn't have much choice. Phillip Jeffries, athlete, bully, and likely future shoe salesman, was in a bad mood, and the fact that Jimmy was smaller, weaker, and no real threat at all made him the perfect target.
So, when he first heard the shouted "Hey, Chocolate Jimmies!" our young hero took off on a run, such as it was. He knew his duck-like stride wouldn't help any, but it was the best he could do. As Phil closed in, Jimmy turned in panic, and headed for the shelter of the trees.
As he rushed headlong into the forbidden forest, he could hear Phil crash into the trees behind him, accompanied by a chorus of grunts, shouts, and the sort of language that would get Jimmy's mouth washed out.
Heart thumping, he ran on, as the branches whipped across his face and arms. The sweat gathered on his brow, despite the shade of the trees, and blinded him. Perhaps this is why he missed the rather large root.
He crashed to the ground, glasses and bookbag flying. Wincing with pain, he tried to stand, but his right leg buckled underneath him. He slumped to the ground, and awaited the inevitable.
Within moments, Phil arrived, a ball of juvenile fury. He unceremoniously began punching and kicking Jimmy, all the while complaining about the injustice of it all. How dare Jimmy make him _work_ for his fun?
Flinching from every blow, Jimmy was in no condition to rebut. His head spun, and he felt dizzy. Phil straddled him, eyes glittering with proto-sadistic glee.
A shadow blocked out the sun.
"You spoiled my nap" a low voice rumbled. Jimmy felt Phil's weight being lifted from his torso. Through blurry eyes he saw a _huge_ figure, holding his tormentor off the ground by one arm.
"I was having the most wonderful dream, and you ruined it. Now, the way I see it, we have two choices."
The figure shook Phil. "Are you listening?"
Phil's head bobbed.
"One: You leave now, and never enter my lands again."
The voice shifted, dripping with menace. "Or two...you join me for lunch."
Jimmy heard a quiet whimper, and smelled an all-too-familiar (and socially embarassing) odor. The stranger lowered Phil to his feet.
"Well?"
Within moments, he and Jimmy were alone.
Then the stranger crouched momentarily, and moved over to where Jimmy was lying, and reached out a massive hand. Jimmy blinked, and blearily made out his glasses in the stranger's palm.
He put them on, wincing slightly. Looking up, he saw a kindly bearded face, watching him from beneath a dark brown hat. "Are you OK, boy?"
Jimmy shook his head "Nossir. I think I hurt my leg."
"Well then, we'll have to take care of that, before I take you home."
With seemingly no effort, he gently scooped Jimmy up in his arms, snagging the fallen bag in passing. "What's your name? I can hardly keep calling you boy."
"Jimmy", he replied, muzzily.
"Well met, young Jimmy. You can call me Wolf..."
To be continued?
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Date: 2004-08-11 07:19 pm (UTC)And most of the time, the letter q is followed by u. :)
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Date: 2004-08-12 05:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-12 12:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-12 05:05 am (UTC)