Bob Ch.1, again.

Sorry I tried to edit Ch.1, and it disappeared. But, here it is again. Ch.2 is below this post.

Bob the final conflict, Pt. 1

Chapter one

When Bob glanced at the dense foliage where the rustling came from, his gut did a few calisthenics, and sat down, trembling from the exertion. The blond hair on the back of neck stood up, stiff as a cadaver, quivering with excitement. The words of Bob’s Grandmamma Lena came rushing back: “Always trust your gut, Robert. Heed his advice above all others’. Unless, of course, it would be the hair on the back of your head’s.” Bob was getting the same message from both organs: RUN!

Bob ran, his fuzzy and distressingly chartreuse bunny slippers pounding the moist loam of the deciduous forest, his face torn with the daggers of fierce bramble, his hands deflecting Hoochletmuffin-Tree trunks, their dark cubic leaves and hot pink fruit raining down on him.

Bob looked back feverishly, to find that mist had obscured the forest behind. The full moon had been masked by dark clouds. Bob’s pace quickened to a full out, fear-fueled sprint, his red cape flowing out behind him dramatically, exposing his violently violet corduroy bellbottoms and “VOTE FOR PEDRO” T-shirt.

He heard a vicious keening evocative of a craven banshee, and a ravenous growling, reminiscent of a starved coyote, accompanied by snorting, roaring, barking, scraping, shrieking, hissing, whooping, cheeping, screaming, and burping redolent of various other organisms. Once or twice Bob saw disgustingly contorted black shapes through the billowing smog that was following him as fast as the multi-lingual horror was. Bob now had a firm conviction that a pack of many depraved beasts pursued his person now.

While running through the seemingly endless forest, red fungi rushing by with un-fungal speed, vegetation and rock also hurrying past at an exotic haste, Bob drew his trusty .38 Sig Sauer magnum from his orange hemp belt and grabbed his loyal serrated, double edged, hand brushed titanium knife with the ebony hilt. He spotted a stout Frogbane tree in the distance, and steeled himself for the fight to come.

He arrived at the yellow tree, and instead of dodging it he applied his back firmly to the smooth bark and let loose two flashing bullets.

Due to the ravenous evil that closed on him presently, he was prevented from shooting a third.