Boston's Prologue to a new project
Boston screamed out as he ran through the dark field behind his old house. The overgrowth of weeds and thickets snagged at his fur painfully. He was naked, and the wicked vines showed his more sensitive areas no mercy. Stumbling and painfully twisting his ankle, the dog kept running as if he could not feel the aching.
The twenty eight year old border collie was running for his life.
Behind him, the shrill screams of hundreds of pups and cubs of all ages, all species. Teens to toddlers, they now hunted him down for revenge. Their forms remained as they had when Daniel 'Boston' Travis had killed them, mutilated or not. This did not prevent the angry youths from staying just close enough to allow the killer collie to smell bile and blood.
Panting, pained, bleeding from many small cuts and gashes, the dog ran towards the only thing in sight. The mine shaft long abandoned behind his property.
Boston knew it well. Without a moments hesitation, he dashed into the dark tomb where these brats belonged.
Where he had last put most of them.
Boston stumbled down the rocky incline, to the far too bland smelling air. The pits, the corners... all empty. No rotting corpses, nothing. Made sense of course, as the screaming and snarling and crying of the as yet unseen mob behind him could not be in two places at once.
The mostly black furred border collie climbed into a thin crevice in the dark, musty mine shaft, and took a steady, deep breath to calm himself. He stayed as quiet as he could as his ears perked up, his fangs bared in a moment of panic as he heard the rocks and gravel and dirt disturbed under small paws.
Shadows moved slowly past him. Ugly, grim forms that were each familiar. The reminders marched past Boston as they searched for him, each either angry or scared, but all ready to return the collie's attention.
Boston tried to stifle his paniced breathing, but somehow they knew he was there.
The undead pups and cubs turned as if in unison and began reaching to him, pulling at tufts of fur and folds of skin. Boston screamed out loudly as the young ones dragged him out of his hiding place and towards the pits he had tossed most of them.
The collie who had caused so much pain across the southern portion of the nation was bound to a rock with old rope. His eyes focused through tears of terror at the faces of some of his earliest victims. The assorted youths began to blur together as their images circled him. Little paws grabbed at him and hit him, some tried to tear his very hide open in their claws, and some made deep gashes and bruises with their ripping.
Boston howled out for a moment before a grinning german shepard pup of around eight years old grabbed his tounge and yanked it down over his front fangs. The pup then pressed the collie's muzzle close, piercing his tongue between the sharp teeth, severing the tip.
His muzzle filled with blood quickly and the dog gagged out, eyes wide in fear. His captors all began to tear at him, biting and clawing now. A piece of shirt was twisted around his neck to choke him, his smaller bones were smashed with small stones and rocks.
The killer was beaten until his features were no longer that of a border collies, the massive amount of red rendered him unrecognizable at this point. Boston's eyes were swollen but he could still see a larger form infront of him in the haze of the beatings.
His father appeared, naked as well, and hard. Boston whimpered as he had when he was a puppy. "Dad, no.. not you too. You can't do this too, you made me this way!"
The now seven year old border collie cried up at his dad as the larger dog lay over him, adding to his pain and fear. Boston screamed as new trauma was added to his nearly finished body. The father above him smiled down and whispered a hushed "Shhhh..".
The older collie put a large paw over his son's muzzle and sealed his nostrils and lips shut. Little Boston's eyes widened, he struggled, he sobbed.
The collie let out a loud scream and was kicked by another pup sharply in the leg.
"Boston, shut up. Its 3 am in a parking lot."
Boston's eyes shot open.
The twenty eight year old killer sat upright in his old conversion van. He blinked in the dim light at the small form of a now ten year old golden retreiver pup, scowling sleepily at him. Boston looked next to him as a paw grabbed his.
Dallas, his dalmation lover of twenty one, lay next to him propped up on an elbow. "You ok, hon?" The knowing brown eyes searched Boston's. The smart spotted dog knew what was up.
"Yeah," Boston sighed out. "Nightmares."
The sometimes tactless pup on a sleeping bag next to them grumbled as he dove back under his covers. "Well you're a sociopathic child-killer. What do you expect, cupcakes and teddy bears?"
The collie could not help but laugh at Robbie's little attack as he looked down at the smirking, already falling asleep form of his mate. Boston lay next to Dallas and put an arm around him, whispering softly. "I love you, Dal."
Coming soon..... ROAD DOGS: Generations
(Yay for having to set your own lines every time you post here. Road Dogs is gonna be Fuuuuuun. :P)