The Howler- (2)

Chapter 1: Chieftain.

Today was the day of trades. The day for trading with the white man. They would usually come once a month to reservoir and it would be a big festival of trading and business-like affairs. Bright lights of fire surrounded by music and people dancing, an animal slow roasting with herbs and incense. Candles of each variety surrounded by tribal necklaces and the teeth of the animals slain before. The air was bustling in the reservoir square, teenagers, children and adults interacting and talking. As the white men arrived from the sea, the chieftain made his way near the ruins of the rocky coast, his crew of subordinates behind him. Around them was the sounds of trotting and pecking of the coastal birds, a wet, intoxicating mist deep into their lungs. Their motherland was still beautiful, even if all of it was gone, taken and ruined by the white man houses

At least I have this part

A singular, longer than the others blade of grass flowed into the wind, as if trying to hold onto whatever it had left.

The chieftain swallowed hard and narrowed his eyes to the approaching white man, their trade and currency in hand. Thus, the festival was to truly begin. The white men made their way onto a surface that was level on the rocky coast and formed into the same formation of the natives with the leader in front. The leader was a burly white man, bearded and a Mohawk. Standing in front of the chieftain, they somehow looked identical, almost as if the native had been born white, they’d be twins. Yet they weren’t, they couldn’t be more far apart, their distance grew shorter as the commending trades began, the village people watching afar with wary eyes, some with eyes of curiosity. They had heard the tales of colonialism, yet some of the teenagers and children had been curious, maybe some adults too if they admitted it. The white man's culture was something they had never seen before, some were wary. As the sunset approached, they exchanged trades, the white man received beaver skins and tails, the natives got kettles, knives, needles, some European alcohol and a few tarps of European made cloth. Night had come soon after, celebrations and partying of a new tradition with the white men, as they were housed in tents near the outskirts and were invited to join in on the partying, though only few accepted. In the massive crowd of the village people, two groups stood out, the chieftain and his men discussing business table and the group of teenage boys and girls of the village, all huddled up near a corner talking. In the night of fire lights and drinking the European dew, the chieftain was on the table with his businessmen when a sudden feeling of uneasiness hit him, and it made his stomach burn with a feeling he didn’t quite understand. The feeling of burning went to his brain as it overstimulated and simply, made him hyperventilate under the pressure of the uneasy feeling. The storms of messy anxiety turned into nausea then turned into dizziness which made him grip his chest and fall out of his seat. Watching this scene, the chieftains' men carried him into the local tent near the table and gave him water while consoling him with his stress. Clearly this has happened before.

“The chieftains having another one of his fits”, one of his subordinates spoke to the others,

“Give him some water!” One shouted in the crowd of voices, it blended, adding to his haze.

“Tell him to breathe” he knew all too well.

Fuck… another… haa…haa.

Busy and panting, he prayed that no one would’ve noticed this scene.

Fuck…

He felt embarrassment radiate through his cheeks, turning a rosy pink.

Distracted, nauseated and uncouth were the chieftain and his men, cooped up in a silk tent, hiding from the full moon.

&

Across from the layman chieftain, on a few tables and chairs were the young teenagers of the village, drinking and telling tales, a crowd of the youth boys and the youth girls, all in common with each and another. Smoking tobacco was one of the young men of the village, surrounding him were the youth listening to him tell an old tale of the village. The young man spoke, his words slurring, mixed with coughing from the irritation in his throat,

“They say, a beast, a real scary one lurks this village. They call him “the ‘howler’ of the ravaging moon” what he does is that he kills and eats the people of the village if they're out too late at night. Some say it depends on your karma, but I heard he rapes the women of the village, especially if he can sense if they've bled-” he was cut off by one of the younger kids, shaking and clearly scared but hiding it “h-how can he tell if they've bleed huh?” he tried to act smart, containing his childish fear. The older boy chuckled and began speaking again, “did I not tell you? He has a large snout for a nose, one that's wet and dripping with saliva. Some say he breathes so loud; he pants like a dog. Me personally, his nose must be rotting with bugs coming out of each end.” he ended his speech and looked to his older friend who was also smoking, to continue the story,

"I've seen him before”

The whole crowd was silenced, and they turned their full attention to him, the scarred boy smoking, “he has 6 limbs, 4 legs and 2 arms. Covered in hair-” one girl in the crowd felt her own body hair stand up, chills running throughout her body, he shook her head and tried to focus on the boy's story, which was now shaky and unclear, she tried to breathe and calm down, she really, really did. She had no idea why she had DeJa'Vu from the image of her mind, an unimaginable monster, making her scream in fear, her pupils dilated and being unable to move, just to the fear of a silly child's tale. “He... I mean it was a mongoloid, a Human and an Animal, it was like a grand illusion. He stood tale, he was massive, 7 feet tall, his eyes... fucking lifeless” his voice grew quieter and quieter until she could not hear anything anymore, just the loud noises of the festival overstimulating her brain, making her overheat until she gripped her head, feeling like she was going to pass out. She quickly got up and ran out of the crowded area of the village, wandering aimlessly till she near crops and sleeping livestock, it was already night, and she had finally found her breathe. Without thinking, maybe instinctively, she walked into the open corn field, going deep, trying to get as much breathing and exercising in during the cold night, maybe just to heat her overheating body. Like she was walking deeper and deeper into the fissure, it only got darker and colder near the corn crops. Her mind was clear, all she could hear was her own breathing, a delicate breathe of a woman, fragile and small, she tugged on her skirt feeling the material her grandfather bought for her, the glorious chieftain of the village, was now deducted to going shopping with a teenage girl and buying everything. She gave herself a small smirk, she no longer felt anxious, she just felt great.

This material is very great, I can't wait for my schiischii to buy me some more clothes

She giggled cutely to herself.

And I'm going to make him buy everything and then after he's going to treat me to some-

She felt footsteps coming toward her on the dirt, the feeling of corn crops being sliced,

Her heart changing and stomach dropping lower than it has ever been as her body convulsed in fear, it was almost a change too eerie. She felt a single pin piercing her entire identity and soul, she turned around and tried to scream, but she could not, she could not make out a single vocal cord. All was there, a silent scream of a scrunched-up face in pure fear and agony, mouth agape.

The H-howler...