{"sf1_id":906556,"sf2_id":"rnaR6jo1","title":"Welcome to Valhalla: The Children of Earth ; Chapter 1","author":"Aries_Hausdorff","words":3550,"posted_at":"2015-09-04T18:25:00.000Z","tags":["Non-Anthro","Science Fiction","Welcome to Valhalla","Wtv"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/906556-welcome-to-valhalla-the-children-of-earth-chapter-1","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/rnaR6jo1","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/bb/fb/bbfba9f5-f6e4-44d7-b00f-0ab5ccafb658","description":"Chapter 1 of \"The Children of Earth\". That's the first book in the \"Welcome to Valhalla\" universe, just so you know.\nPeter went to sleep the night before - or so he thinks - but when he wakes up groggily and with headaches things are not as they should be.\nOr, as he would have expected them.","content":"subsection{Unnamed Desert}\n\nSomething tugged on his arm. \\  \nFor a while everything was peaceful then.   \nOr not really. \\  \nThere were those dreams he had.\\  \nHad had?\\  \nWas having?\\  \nHe was falling!\\  \n  \nScreams were there.\\  \nNot his own, although he tried to.\\  \nOnly a faint croacking came from his throat.\\  \nA jolt, and then nothing for a while.\\  \n  \nThe ground was shaking. But somebody held him.\\  \nThe bombs were falling again!\\  \nHe tried to move, to get out of his bed, to get to the air-raid shelter in the adjacent building.\\  \nBut he couldn't! \\  \nSomebody was holding him, holding him back!\\  \nA strong jerk, like falling in two direction at once.\\  \nHe felt like exploding from the inside.\\  \nBut whoever held him, held him safely.\\  \nAlthough the jolt knocked him out again. \\  \n  \nHe came back to himself. Intense heat, crackling noises that turned into a thundering roar worse than that of a passing train.   \nSomebody still held him, and he was hanging head down now.  \nHe jerked, opened his eyes, tried to see who or what was holding him.  \nHe had seen the family from the building on the opposite side of the street.  \nAfter their house had collapsed above them. They had refused to enter the shelter. \\  \nSaid that it was all in gods hands anyway.\\  \nBelts held him. In some sort of hammock.\\  \nWithout anythign visible happening, upside became downside, then right, then downside again. \\  \nThe thunderous roar extinguished his own croaking.\\\n\n\u0026nbsp; His movements were sluggish and he felt weird. \\  \nThere were belts holding him safely inside some kind of hammock. \\  \nThere was a strong jerk trying to throw him off the hammock, but the belts held him safely inside it.\\  \nHis mind raced.\\  \nThis wasn't the air-raid shelter.\\  \nThis wasn't their home.\\  \nThis wasn't the farm he had been brought to by his mother, either.\\  \nAgain a strong shaking, the scent of overheated metal and angry shouts of several men nearby.\\  \nThe thunderous roar had subsided.\\  \n  \nHe wanted to reach for the release of the belts holding him in the hammock.\\  \nBut then the ceiling above him - another hammock? - jumped into his face when up became down again and blissfull darkness embraced him again.\\  \n  \nSomebody shook him.\\  \n\"No mother, I don't want to get up, it's still dark outside..\"\\  \nBut it wasn't his mother shaking him. He was still in a only dimly lit space, in a hammock, secured to it.  \nAnother hammock above him, The entire place was.. skewed.\\  \nHe was hanging sidewards and the noise of a storm plus a wild shaking of the entire room had wakened him.\\  \nAgain.\\  \nThe voices of two men were shouting in a frenzy nearby.\\  \nHe looked around, moving his head. He found his head was being held in place by a cushion, but he could move his head a bit as the material was soft.  \nThe place was only dimly lit, and he remembered that the first time he had awoken there were many green lights, and a few angry red lights glowing.  \nNow the room looked like if it was on fire, with red and yellow small lights being the majority, most of them flickering like trying to attract attention.  \nTo his left was a wall - a left which was becoming \"down\" swiftly whilst the voices of the men nearby went from shouting to an even more scary clipped mumbling,   \nbarely audible over the increasing scream of the wind... outside.  \nDeciding that, as he was outstretched, he was laying prone on his back and the room around him was moving, he decided to call the hammock above him \"up\" and the nearby wall to his left \"left\".  \nIt was a satisfying feeling to have come to a practical conclusion.  \nOn this wall, behind a mesh that looked like the hammock above - and by feel, also his own hammock was made from - he made out the faint contours of his small travelling case with his clothes, and of his treasurechest.  \nAgain he wanted to reach for the buckle of the straps holding him - he had seen it at his belly - and the design of those buckles he knew. He had seen them somewhere...\\  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Then another jolt came, the right side became an exaggerated \"down\" and then the world went painfully black.\\  \n  \nThere was a workan in his head with a hydraulic jackhammer, he was sure of that.\\  \nHe had seen one of those tools in use when they had breached a hole through a wall in a house near the school to install a bombproof shelter.   \nFor an AA batteries ammunition.\\  \nThree days later the allied bombers had simply carpeted the entire neighbourhood, taking out the Flak-Battery.\\  \nAnd the school.\\  \nAnd the pharmacy.\\  \nBasically, the entire neighbourhood had been a pile of rubble afterward.\\  \nScreams!\\  \nDazed he realized that he had heard screams and ferals growls for the last minute.\\  \nAnd shots.\\  \nAnd there came three in rapid succession, ending in an inhuman scream and earthshattering roars.  \nHe wanted to pee himself, but he felt dry like if he didn't had something to drink the whole day.  \nDazed he realized that he was a very ,very scared boy, but that he couldn't even cry.  \n\"Maybe I cried enough when I helped bury our neighbours.\"\\  \nThe screams subsided, the growling and roaring, too.\\  \nThe noises of something breaking and... WET... sent feral cold shivers down his spine.\\  \nFrantically he reached for the belt-buckle securing him to the by now unmoving hammock.  \nFalling out of the hammock once he had the belt open he rolled on the floor with a lot of noises before his still numb limbs started to react to his desires.  \nHe was in an almost round room. Shaped like a lentil, but large. There were 40 hammocks and in each was a slowly stirring form.  \nChildren. Other Children. The other children.. Where had he seen them? He knew them!\\  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; The floor and the roof were cracked, black goo dribbling down from the cracks, faint traces of light marking the cracks.  \nThere was an opening in the only part of the wall that wasn't outward-curved. Fro mthere more light came.  \nMetal girders segmented the whole room and he rammed his head against one when he jumbled back to his hammock, to look at his treasurechest.  \nFrom the opening warm yellow light flooded into the room. He was glad for it.  \nThere was a motion in the light and he looked over his shoulder. a large muscular arm silhuetted agaisnt a blue sky he could see throug hthe opening reached for soemthing he could not. \\  \nA sickening crunch, and the hand on the arm which now moved back again - held another arm.   \nThat arm however, was visible in it's entirety, and there was no body on it, only a trailing... mass of muscles and...  \nHe screamed.\\  \nA low guttural grown was heard and he felt a presence moving on the other side of the opening.  \nMore growls from further away were audible, like a conversation between idling lorry engines.  \nA faint tinkling filled the air, like metal moving, polished metal moving over other polished metal.  \nHis heart raced.\\  \nHe could feel the ... presence moving, like a lion prancing in the zoo, unsure if to go away or come closer.\\  \nHe was frozen.\\  \nThe presence left. He couldn't actually hear the footsteps, but metal moaned as a heavy weight moved over it.  \nMoved away, and with the maoning stopping abruptly, moved... Out? Out to where?  \nWith shivering fingers he reached for his treasurechest and pulled it from the mesh.  \nIt was intact, and he inhaled deeply.\\  \nAnd inhaled the scent of something burning.  \nThat wasn't good. \\  \nLike he had learned he grabbed his travelling case and turned to the opening to get out...  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Outside a tumultuous uproar exploded. \\  \nLoud growls, enraged snarls, then high pitched yips. \\  \nPinschers and lions fighting.\\  \nHe hesitated, looking through the opening.  \nThe lentil shape proceeded allright, three sturdy seats in front of a vast set of controls, a small segmented window, cracked, but still intact, a thick door with a short corridor to a second door, both open...\\  \nIn one of the chairs sat a man. Well, most parts of a man.\\  \nHis head was... not longer able to fulfil it's job. \\  \nA part of it was missing, but metal parts from the window-frame held the head erect.  \nTears rolled down his cheeks and he wanted to vomit, seeing the rest of the head smeared over the wall.   \nThe tumult outside raged louder, light reflected from somewhere along the short corridor. Shadows were moving like flickers of lightning.  \nHe looked on the floor, fighting his stomach.\\  \nThe arm that ... the presence ... had ripped off the corpse lay there, it's indexfinger pointing back into the room he had come from.   \nOutside the metallic tinkling had become the dominating noise, drowning out the growls, snarls, yips and barks.  \nThen a short whinny, like a horse in pain, and a multiple-times repeated \"twang!\".  \nThree metallic darts, each as long as his arm, stencilled holes into the metallic wall beside the door.   \nAnd that was only the part he could see. \\  \nAnd all of them dripped thick, dark red blood.\\  \nThe snarls and growls died into gargling noises, the yips became all the more louder.  \nThick smoke was drifting past the window, and some of it also drifted in through the door.\\  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Clasping his treasurechest to his body he stumbled back into the room, gazing at the three metal darts dripping blood and at the hand of the ripped-off arm in the uniform that also his father had worn.  \nThe hand pointing back into the room he had awoken.\\  \nThe metallic tinkling from outside turned into well audible, heavy steps.  \nHe remembered those times military had marched through the town, and he, his sister and his mother had stood there cheering the soldiers,   \nyet also worried for his father who worked in some super secret program.   \nThe steps had the same self-assured quality.\\  \n  \nOutside yipping and whinnying could be heard. Frantically he looked around in the room. Some of the metallic spars that seemed to give the room it's lentil, ovoid shape were broken and bent.   \nThere were cracks in the floor. From some a nauseating scent came when he tried to lift the broken metal tiles up. From one no scent came, and the shadows he could seeshowed the space to be large enough.   \nInside the space under the floortiles he could see cables and other things. He slipped into the space and pushed the tile around until it slid back into place.   \nThere were ripped-off rivets visible which he grasped and held on to.\\  \n\"Please,\" he thought, \"nobody look at the floor.\"\\  \nA breath after he had slipped into the cavity between what looked like fueltanks, gas-cylinders and more wiring than he had seen in a Volksempfaenger, he heard the pitterpatter of ...\\  \nDog-Paws?\\  \nYes, it sounded like dogpaws, but the rythm was off and it was too fast. \\  \nHigh yipping, small high-pitched barks, sniffling and shuffling above.\\  \nAnother series of short whinnies and coughs outside, then one pitterpattering left the space above, but others still moved around.  \nThen more yipping outside, short coughs, near-snarls and whinnies, then the pitterpatter of many dogs entered the room.\\  \nAnd then...\\  \nHeavy thuds that made the floor vibrate.\\  \nA deep huffing, steps that made the metal resonate. Directly above him.\\  \nThe metal, aluminium, started to bend downward, despite it being reinforced with a girder-structure underneath that must've been good enough for a grown up to jump around upon it.\\  \nFrom somewhere, the acrid smell of chemicals burning wafted to him.\\  \nAbove more coughing and whinnying, complemented by a chorus high pitched yipps and of deep rolling coughs.  \nWhatever happened next, a the entire metal around him vibrated and resonated. He couldn't hear his own thoughts, but a flurry of activity was taking place above him.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;  \nHis finger ached from holding the broken rivets tight so that the metal tile wouldn't jump up and give away his hideout.  \nFeet left and came, the rythm sounding very well coordinated. Then more feet left than came back in until only the sighing of one of the nearby metal tiles spoke of somebody very heavy standing upon it.\\  \nHe held his breath.\\  \nSoft barks and yipps, murmured, whispered. Two heavy steps, in his direction. The tile over what he assumed was a tank of some sorts bent down slightly. Then more barked and yipped whispers.  \nFrom outside some sharp barks, then the heavy steps left the room. Seconds later, a light pitterpatter of clawed paws followed the heavy steps. Stopped. Moved on, becoming more silent, ceased to be.\\  \n  \nHe held his breath. Outside a rustlign and tinkling was audible, became more and more silent. The scent of something burning was fading.  \nIn the silence falling over him in his hideout, he could hear the crackling of cooling metal.\\  \nMinutes became hours, or maybe days.\\  \nPerhaps a few eternities, give or take two.\\  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Finally he pushed the tile upward.\\  \nThe room was empty.\\  \nNot only empty. \\  \nExcept for his floortile all the floortiles that had cracked open had been removed.  \nAll the struts that had beed ripped loose were gone.  \nAll the hammocks were gone. Including the children that had been in them. And the meshes on the wall where gone too. Including the luggage they had held.  \nHe looked around stunned. The rivets on his floortile were deformed. Tiles with intact rivets where still in place, but all other tiles were just gone.  \nAnd whatever had been underneath them, too. No object that was identifiable as being something individual was left.  \nThe smelly tank was gone.   \nLoose nuts dangled on the now dry pipes it had once connected to.\\  \n  \nHe turned around.\\  \nHis Hammock was still in place. Likewise his mesh on the wall hadn't been touched. But an enameled bottle lay on his hammock. \\  \nHe was perplexed.\\  \nPlacing his luggage o nthe ground he grabbed the bottle. It was plugged with an enamel plug held in place by a metal clamp.   \nEasy. Flip the clamp, and you can pull the stopper out. There were beerbottles with the same mechanism. Just they were out of glass and ceramics, not enameled metal.  \nAnd the beerbottles where three times bigger. The bottle could barely hold a mouthful of water.   \nWhich, indeed, it actually did. Contaning a mouthful of water, with a light mint flavour.  \nHe closed the bottle, putting it into his short trousers pocket. It was getting hot in here. Not the heat of a fire, but of a locked shed in summer.  \nHe picked up his case and the metal treasurechest. He was thankful for the handle on it's top.   \nIn the room beyond the wall the corpse was gone, so was the arm. Sand had been dusted over the blood on wall and floor and soaked up the bloods wetness.\\  \nNo icky bits were visible anywhere.\\  \nThe three darts had gone, too, leaving three holes in the wall. The holes had closed with a black gooey substance.  \nHe went to the door. Outside was blinding brightness. Yellow-white sand and blue sky.  \nHis foot set down on the outer doors frame, when a shadow blotted out the light. \\  \nA clawed hand shot out to grab him.\\  \nBut his hand holding the treasurechest shot out, too, in an arc.\\  \nThe chest contacted with the clawed hand and the doorframe.\\  \nThe crunching noise was loud and clear in the otherwise silent air.\\  \nThe loud, pained snarl ended the silence, until he brought the heavy chest around in a second arch, upward.\\  \nThat ended the pained snarl abruptly.\\  \nSlowly, like a cut tree, the shadow fell over backward into the sand.\\  \nAnd gave free sight at a group of at least two dozen other large looming shadows.\\  \nShadows with tiger ears, tiger muzzles, tiger tails and tiger paws, but wrapped into clothing like the pictures in Karl May's \"Through the Desert\" had shown to be worn by the Berber people.\\  \nIn the resulting explosion of snarls and grows, the fangs bared at him and the clubs risen over the heads in unmistakingly hostile manners, he discovered he was an astonishingly good runner.\\  \nTurning away from the tiger-people, he looked at a town, maybe half an hour walk away. A large gate was closing behind a group of people leaving a dustcloud.  \nThe city was bright, colorful, and he could see lots of high trees over the citywalls. It looked much more inviting than the tigerpeople and their fangs and clubs behind him.\\  \nHe ran.\\  \nDown the dune on which the metallic-shiny oversized lentil rested from which he had emerged, along a deep, charred trail that began shortly behind the cities wall - there where the battlements looked like stencilled away -   \nand then lead up to where the lentil rested.  \nThe loud snarls and growls became louder behind him.  \nHe jumped and bounded in great leaps down the dune, holding firmly to his luggage and the chest.  \nBefore him, the sand exploded in a cloud of dust, taking his sight.  \nHe fell, landing in something soft which immideatly gave way under him, and then things went dark.  \nBut it wasn't the darkness of unconsciousness.\\  \nIt was just .. Dark.\\  \nHe heard light yips around him, then he felt somebody.. several... dogs stepping upon his back.  \nHe wanted to scream and get up when he heard, muffled, the snarls and growls above becomign louder,   \nthen he felt pokes on his back, like if the dogs on his back were fetching heavy loads, the heavy thuds of many feet running past above. \\  \nThe snarls became quiter.\\  \nA small hand fuzzled his hair, then small hands with claws sought his hands and tried to help him up.\\  \nA wet nose touched his ear:\\  \n\"yepyappapp rwuuf\"\\  \nIt was whispered, and with a high pitch and a rapid rate. He had heard the same noises inside the... Lentil.  \nSeparated by a metal floortile.  \nThe small hands holding his hands - rather two of his fingers each - tugged him into a direction.  \nLight to the right and ahead. There were several ... beings around him. He was still kneeling, so he wanted to stand up.   \nImmideatly the hands holding his pulled him down again, tugged on him and when he didn't stopped, somebody gave him a clout.  \n\"Okay, I'll remain on all fours!\" he cursed.\\  \n\"urrrrAPPAPP yipp!\"\\  \nAgain a wet nose at his ear whispering those staccato noises.  \nInstead of a second clout a small paw grabbed his lips painfully and pressed them together.  \n\"Yes, I'll be silent,\" he whispered into the darkness once his lips were released.  \nInstead of another yapping, somebody patted his head gently, albeit also with a staccato-like speed.  \nThe tugging on his hands began anew, and slowly he crouched ahead.   \nHe stopped when he realized he had lost his luggage and chest. He pulled his hands free, resulting in at least two separate excited squeaks, barks and yips.  \nHe wanted to turn around to trace the five meters or so back that he had moved so far in utter darkness. His shoulders rammed into squirming bodies, and sand started to rush down from above.  \nSharp claws grabbed his ears, nose, wrists shoulders, ankles. He wanted to throw his unseen assailants off, but he couldn't move much - and each time he moved, more sand rushed down upon him.  \nThings wrapped around his arms his legs, and even around his head. Smooth, cool, fluffy material suddenly pulled tight, binding his wrists together.   \nThe excited yips moved around him, and several times somebody gave him another clout when he tried to move. Often he felt warm soft fur running over his face, his arms and legs.   \nHe finally decided to lay still. His legs were almost fully under sand, and he slowly concluded that he was in a tunnel under the sand. Around him, movement.   \nSand flew around, then whoever was moving, moved, and he felt how swift hands removed the sand from his legs and around him.  \nFinally something heavy bumped into his legs. The hard corners of his treasurechest.\\  \nHe inhaled deeply.\\  \n\"Yiiiirf yepyep\"\\  \nFur pressed into his face and he could feel the warmth of the body it belonged to.  \nWhoever had trained those pinschers...  \nBut pinschers wouldn't have the hands to untie whatever had bound his wrists and legs.  \nSmall hands rested lightly on his arms and guided them to the handles of his chest and of his travelling case. He sighed and gently, slowly, pulled them up to his chest.  \nAround him several silent yipps and woofs sounded, then helpful little hands helped him back on his knees and then steadied his shoulders.  \n\"irrekkekk.\"  \nA small hand grabbed some of his hair and then pulled him along. It was maybe undignified, but he had no idea where he was, and he had a very good idea what had been the intention of those tiger-people.  \nSo better to be cooperative.  \nAfter a while a faint light showed up ahead. \n\n  \n  \n  \n\n"}