{"sf1_id":1382773,"sf2_id":"rnaj0NX1","title":"A Mind's Eyes 03","author":"Mantrid_Brizon","words":937,"posted_at":"2018-10-29T04:19:00.000Z","tags":["Anthro","Comedy","Dark","Dream","Horror","Story","Werewolf","Wolf","furry","hillbilly","redneck"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1382773-a-mind-s-eyes-03","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/rnaj0NX1","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/1f/db/1fdb191f-b979-4f22-8d4a-f6d10251502b","description":"#3 of A Mind's Eyes: Dream Journal\n\nDream date: 10/29/2018\nPerspective: 1st-Person","content":"I am at a cabin by Gulliver lake in the upper peninsula of Michigan, on what looks like overgrown property that once belonged to my grandfather. On the property is what appears to be a family of stereotypical rednecks, complete with long, scraggly bears and stringy hair. Somewhat confused that they are on property that I feel I have more right to than they, I cautiously approach. They all soon depart into the woods, carrying an analog tape recorder, speaker and a car battery. A third man also carries a sack over his shoulder that appears to be moving from more than just his walking.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;Unsure of what they're doing, I creep into their house. Inside, it looks to be a carefully constructed mixture of the original cabin interior from \"The Evil Dead\" and the cabin from \"Tucker \u0026 Dale Vs. Evil\". No sooner than I enter does night fall upon the structure. Closing the door, I wonder what their house is doing here; I don't remember it from previous visits, though it was many years ago. Searching through the house, I turn and see the oldest member of the family at the far end of a hall, holding a single-shot, 20-gauge shotgun near his hip. Looking to me, he grins to reveal several missing teeth.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\"Hee hee, I didn't know we had company!\" He exclaims.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nHe turns and darts off, disappearing into a room. Confused, I turn to leave. Opening the door, I see in the night, which is well illuminated by a full moon. A werewolf that looks like a Howler from the eponymous werewolf movies (The Howling) stands in front of the door, looming over me. Cocking his head, it reaches out a hand. I slam the door closed and it pounds on the barrier, imitating a scene from \"The Evil Dead\" as well as \"The Army Of Darkness\" windmill scene. After the pounding stops, there's a silence. I wait for a moment, only to hear a faint and steady tapping.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\"Ahem... Pardon me sir, but could you spare a cup of your soul?\" A male voice politely asks.\n\n\"Wha... I can't spare that!\" I reply through the door, my back still against it and holding it closed.\n\n\"Are you sure? Even just a pinch of soul?\" The voice asks so politely.\n\n\"Seriously?!\" I bark.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nFinding a latch, I lock the door and shutter the windows. For some reason there are inside shutters, installed backwards. Taking a glance outside, I don't see anything besides an empty porch. I lock the house tightly and wander around. The old man from earlier is nowhere to be found. I find a backpack of camping gear, so I collect it for no apparent reason. For some reason I felt like I needed it.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nReturning to the front door, I hesitantly open it, prepared to dive out of the way should a creature be standing there. Instead, I find absolutely nothing. Outside, it's daylight once again, as if a full 12 hours had passed. I exit the house. Walking around the front yard and looking at the lake, I am suddenly reminded that I'm trespassing by a car door closing. Sneaking to the corner of the house, I see the three rednecks pulling out more moving sacks from the bed of a beat up, medium-blue Chevy pickup truck from the 1980s.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nI walk toward a shed, passing their view but when they aren't actively looking at me. They walk between the house and shed, not noticing me. A tree branch snags my shirt, so for some reason I just take it off, but I put the backpack back on. Thinking I might need some camouflage, I smear mud on my torso. Running toward a tree in a relatively empty yard, I dive behind the tree, the huge backpack shifting and the contents clanging away.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nA younger redneck walks by with the same shotgun in hand as I lie on my belly behind the tree. He turns and looks, then waves politely. I am then reminded that the backpack is not naturally colored and sticks out like a sore thumb. Suddenly, I hear a voice.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\"Pardon me sir... About that soul?\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nTurning my head sharply, there stands the Howler. He waves his fingers to me, as if showing off the long, razor-sharp claws.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\"I'm busy man. I can't help you right now.\" I reply in aggrivation.\n\n\"Are you sure? You don't look busy\" The werewolf says.\n\n\"I'm escaping evil rednecks, alright.\" I growl.\n\n\"Oh... But they can see you.\" The werewolf says.\n\n\"He's right, I can see you.\" The young redneck says with a thick southern drawl, standing right in front of me.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nGetting up from the ground, I sigh and rests my hands near my hips, my head tilted down.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\"Look, this isn't as fun as I thought it would be. I'm gonna go.\" I say.\n\n\"You sure you don't want some Cola or somethin'?\" The redneck asks.\n\n\"No, thanks.\" I reply, walking back to the road.\n\n\"Um, about that soul?!\" The werewolf persists.\n\n\"Ask one of the neighbors!\" I bark back.\n\n\"Okay... Can you spare some soul?\" The werewolf promptly asks the redneck.\n\n\"Why sure! I'm not using her anyway.\" He replies, before laughing hysterically.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nStanding beside the road, I begin to hitch-hike. A car passes without stopping, frustrating me, and then I wake up.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nSelf-analysis: \\*shrugs\\* A few days earlier my band and I had watched some Seether videos and I was quite taken by \"Betray And Degrade\", but other then that...\n\n  \n  \n\n","series":{"name":"A Mind's Eyes: Dream Journal","previous":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1382521-a-mind-s-eyes-02.json","next":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1384233-a-mind-s-eyes-04.json"}}