Awakening in the Woods (Hollow)

Barton was frightened beyond words but there was also a surreal feeling about this. Barton thought to himself,

"Am I dead? Is this a dream still?"

Barton felt the sting of the branches and the wounds that mauled him. He was descending into hell and now it was clear to him.

"I'm dead..."

Barton began to think back on his life, had he really been so evil? Is this what awaited everyone? The miles of dead trees and flames. Personal devils to torment those who remained embraced within the clutches of the boney grasp of the trees of woe.

Barton wept and the pain came flooding back, phantom pains of the wounds suffered before. Now there came the additional pain of the supernatural torture of hell.

Barton's tear felt cold on his cheeks as he shivered in shere terror.

"What have I done to deserve this...."

Barton groaned loudly and arched his back as he tried to breathe. The pain was indescribable, no words he knew could explain this. He felt the rough bark of the dead limb and the thorns gouging out chunks of flesh. His flesh. Barton ground his teeth together and blood spewed from his mouth as he let out a fearsome and inhuman cry of pain.

"grrrrrrrrrrRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHA!"

The scream caused his body to tense around the limb he was impaled on. Barton cried harder now and he prayed,

"Please... forgive me... Forgive me.... I... I wan...."

The pain was to much and Barton once more choked on his own blood. The amount gagged him and he let his head fall back. A sob came from his lips, followed by a muffled grunt of pain. Barton had felt pain that most have never endured this night. The body of Barton had been broken and now his soul was beginning to lose it's strength. Then came the demons....

The imps with their razorlike grin and chattering teeth caused Barton to murmur...

"No, please no... Please.. I... I... ARGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!!!! NO! GRAAAAaahhh....."

Barton writhed once more and his chest rose and lowered as he felt the imps explore the vital organs now exposed. Barton felt them eating him alive, their teeth sharp and easily consuming the parts of his intestines.. Barton slowly lifted up his head as his eyes fluttered and he whispered through a gurgle of blood,

"Pleeeeease.... SSssssssssstop..."

In this circumstances, being eaten alive, torned and ripped, desperate and hopeless Barton heard a voice comming from the Beast next to him. It said.
"I CAN RELEASE YOU FROM THE PAIN! FEED ME AND I SHALL LIBERATE YOU FROM THIS HELL!

GET YOUR LEG CLOSER! CLOSER TO MY MOUTH! NOW!"

Barton groaned and ground his teeth together and attempted to move. A spurt of blood erupted from his chest and he sank back down.

"ARGgg.. I Ca..... Can't... R..rr....reach..."

Barton felt his head sink back and groaned,

"The p....Pain is to much... I'm... I'm dead.....:

Barton looked over to the Beast fear and defeat in his eyes and Barton's grey eyes showed signs of defeat. Barton wept in silence as a tear fell from his left tear duct and he looked back down to the Imp feasting on his body. Barton then saw it grin and chatter it's teeth and something inside of Barton sparked a fire in him.

"Barton Hollow ain't no damned chew toy...... I ain't having it...."

Fueled by the pain and by a new found hatred and defiance of death... Barton looked to the beast with his eyes full of fire and through the pain he snarled and clenched his fists. The beast offered liberation, the beast offered him a way out. He was already in hell and had been here for quite sometime.. Why not trust the beast, Barton was always a survivor... But this night had changed him, death, his death had changed him. He owed the world something and perhaps he could avoid this hell. Maybe even make amends in the long run.

Barton let out a primal roar and grasp the limb that was impaling him and pulled himself up. Blood sprayed up into his face and he bared his teeth as his mouth opened. Barton growled once more and began to shift his weight. The thorns digging ever deeper in his torso. Barton then shot his eyes to the beast and replied,

"LIBERATE ME FROM THIS HELL."

Barton let out one loud scream and drove himself down further on the limb to get his leg closer to the beasts mouth. Barton had succumbed to Beast within.

Barton's eyes shot open and he attempted to take a breath. Barton let out a slight scream, coming from a bad dream or nightmare. One that he did not remember, he could not think for that moment and he reached his hands to his face. He held them there and felt of his face, his body still trembling.

The man was not sure of where he was. That must have been some bad whiskey he drank. Barton was afraid to open his eyes and he coughed roughly as he thought about the events that had happened tonight, nights or however long ago.

Barton muttered in a low raspy voice, his body feeling weak and still broken.

"Wh...where am I... Strange.. I dreamed of Amanda, she had her guards shoot me. A beast from stories of my childhood slaying them.. Amanda leaving. Is that you Jesse? Did I pass out?"

Barton rubbed his eyes and then replied,

"I need a drink, bad Jesse..... Got any .... Something..... Else.... "

Barton felt different and the initial shock began to wear off. Barton lowered his hands from his face and rotated his neck around. Then his eyes shot open and the bright grey eyes looked up. His jaw lowered and he let his tongue roll over his lower lip, the cold nights air hitting it. Barton heard things he had neglected before and his eye fluttered as his senses grew keener. His voice was stronger and his limbs grew more powerful.

Barton was no more.... Barton was dead.....

His past became less important as the words then came back to him... "Rouse from the dead...."

Barton had a new backbone and something and flipped the switch inside of him. Barton shook his head and curled his upper lip as he began to come out of the fog he was in. Now came the confusion of everything, Barton needed to know what happened...

Barton looked around and moved his hand to his throat and rubbed vigourously and looked around. He heard the stream in the distance and in the dark night he followed the sound of the water. Barton was a survivor and he knew how to live off the land better than most.

But how did he end up here?

Barton was cold slightly and felt alone but for some reason it felt right to him. He was not as afraid as he should have been but he was cautious. He did not call out, he kept quiet. Barton looked around the hollow and hunched over as he knelt down. He tilted his head and then rose up and carefully searched for the river.

Though his steps began to get clumsy as the thirst continued to plague him. He needed water... But something else was what he wanted, but water would do right now. His mouth was dry.

Hollow moved in the woods, the animals ran away from him awakening in the middle of the night birds flying in fear from his presence, he had seen nothing like that before. Eventually he got to the river, its water was fresh and cold shaded by the shadows near by.

Hollow felt the flow of the river through his fingers soft as silk, cold as only water could be. Just looking at it was refreshing.

His two hands went together inside of the water forming a cup shape to hold as much liquid as he could, then it went down his throat but the result was totally different of what he expected. PAIN!

The liquid went down his throat causing an excruciating agony even worst than the thirst itself, the logical conclusion was that there was something in the water, something that Barton could not smell or taste but it wasn't rational at all that water burned.

Barton gagged and spit up the water, vomiting it up almost as suddenly as it had went down. Barton coughed roughly and not even his fathers moonshine did not burn like this. This water must be tainted with something, this water was not water. Perhaps it was his throat, or he was coming down with something bad. Barton spit the rest of the water out and rubbed his throat as he forced himself to swallow.

"Damn."

Came from his lips and then he noticed no wildlife was around him.

"Where are the birds? Where are the animals? Damnit am I dreaming again?"

Barton slowly rose up from the bank of the stream and looked down to the water then up to the sky. He seemed to be asking God for an answer.

Suddenly Hollow head howlings not so far away, wolves hunting, per haps hunting him. Again from the other side of the river wolves' howls, an ambush may be.

Barton's eyes went wide and he slowly muttered,

"Damn.... What a night...."

Bartons time in the woods and his knowledge of canines helped him understand what to not do. If he was prey he would not be wise to run and to make a lot of noise. Also wolves had a keen sense of smell. Barton knew his scent was one that would spark their curiousity. So he remembered his lessons from his father...

Barton had no musk nor scent to cover up his own and he quickly rushed over to the stream. Barton was freezing and he had no other option other than to dip into the stream. The running water would kill his scent for a short time, so he got on his knees. Barton looked up and dipped his hands into the water and scooped up a handful of mud. He began to slather it over his exposed skin and part of his clothing. Barton knew the running water would hide his scent or his direct location for a short while. Barton furiously washed his arms with the mud and then his neck. Then his hair was slicked back with mud and he looked around with watchful eyes. The boy knew his stuff. Barton then smeared if over his face and then rose up slowly hunching over. He needed a weapon, a stick with a point- to keep the distance of the animals away.

Barton also knew to keep low to the wind to hide his scent, his father taught him well. As he slowly moved up the stream he dipped down and removed a smooth stone from the bottom of the stream.. One of ample size and then another one as he clentch them in his fists. His bandana would make an alright sling for the time being if push came to shove.

He continued to move slowly as he removed the bandana from his back pocket and fit in one of the larger stones into the makeshift sling.

As Hollow walked away from the zone he felt relief since no wolf would be able to follow his track, he was certain about this. Wolves have a terrible night vision, at least it was not as good as their sense of scent, also the river sound was covering his own noises the camouflage was perfect.

Few minutes after he started to go down the river a wolf jumped to the water several yards away where he was standing before his move, another two jumped from the bushes as well, one on each side of the river. However they didn't seem confused as they started to run down the river as well, chasing Barton.

These were not normal wolves...

Barton's heart skipped a beat as the wolves came into view. Barton's eye went wide and his jaw dropped. Barton narrowed his eyes and let the makeshift sling hang loose from his side, ready to build up momentum as needed. Barton replied,

"Well boy's, the names Barton...."

Barton wondered how he was found out, these wolves were clever. Barton looked to the left and then to the right and slowly turned his back to a neutral stance so he was not surrounded.

Barton cleared his throat and crouched down gripping the makeshift sling tighter.

"Look boys, I don't wanna hurt ya... Easy boys.. No good Barton in ya lands... I know fella's."

Barton knew he was up shit creek without a paddle. Barton narrowed his eyes even more and replied,

"I know this is your territory, I do not even know how I ended up here..... But easy now boys. Easy clever ones... Ain't like others are ya?"

Barton knew the wolves would not understand him but it was a habit when he encountered animals. Barton thought and resorted to something he had also heard from the old mountain men from Flat Gap.

Barton opened his mouth and bared his teeth and crinkled his nose and let his tongue roll up over his lower lip. He even let a similar snarl. He did not approach them but he stood his ground and made his face contort in a bestial manner and flexed his lips muscles. He matched the expressions of a native wolf and the vocal calls of a canine. This man knew a bit about animals it seemed. The wolves would be able to read his facial features though he was not entirely sure of what they meant. But he mimicked their own.

Meanwhile Barton thought of what to do next.

The animals reached Barton's position, the one in the river stopped and started to growl and roar to him, the other two went to Hollow's back still on the riverside to ambush him, making an almost perfect triangle between them. All wolves were about to attack their body language tell that much to Barton, they were just waiting for the perfect time to do so.

Barton moved out his right hand and knelt down in the water. Barton knew he could not run as that would give them reason to give chase. Barton hated this and he felt sick to his stomach, but he had no other option. But these wolves were smart, Barton now wondered what the hell he was doing....

Barton was surrounded and he knew he was at their mercy and he could not do much else.

Barton often spoke to animals knowing full well they could not understand him and he replied,

"Well, I know you boy's don't understand me... And it looks like you have the draw on ol' Barton. I'll take that as a given."

Barton then looked to the hand that had the makeshift sling and he crouched down lower and let the sling touch the water. He gradually loosened his grip and replied,

"Now boys... Ol' Barton might not make it out flawless... Not even at all. But I know a thing or two bout' ya. Three, maybe more... I got that part. We got plenty'a you in Flat Gap. Why the hell am I am talkin' to ya anyway..."

Barton moved his free hand to his throat and kept his other hand ready. He hid his teeth and showed no signs of agression.

He flexed his shoulders and puffed out his chest to make himself look bigger and thought to himself.

"Strike the nose first and protect your throat. Drive your fist down the wolfs throat when he bites to gag him."

Barton got surprise of feeling almost no pain with the wolf's bite. Barton snarled and whipped around wildly as the wolves began to circle him. Barton still held the makeshift sling in his right hand and he had let it soak in the water adding a little more weight to it. the most ferocious wolf seemed to be the one who was snapping wildly at him. Barton remembered that you had to hit them on the nose to shut them up good and quick. The nose was one of the softest spots and Barton focused on the first wolf.

The first wolf seemed to be the alpha and the first to provoke the attack. If Barton could slay or embarrass the alpha he might have a chance. Barton saw the dog was snapping wildly and Barton himself let the makeshift sling swing at his side. The red bandana made a whirling sound in the wind as it gained speed.

Barton then as the wolf continued to snap at him stepped in and let the heavy stone wrapped in the bandana come down near the wolfs nose. He kept his body moving rather than remaining in one spot, forcing the wolves to change their tatics.

Spoiler:

Barton stroke the wolf in the nose, he was right to think that wolves are specially sensitive in this spot, his experience told him so, still he hit the animal with his fist directly to it and the reaction was less than the expected. What should have been crying and walking away from Hollow was simply a pain expression in the animal's face and a little jump back just to reconsider his attack strat.

Another surprising thing about the wolf was how cold it was... dead cold

The three wolves rounded Barton while he was in the river, the Alpha walked in a much closer circle to him, blocking with its movement the sight of its packmates sight of their foe, that single thing made the other two to walk away one step leaving this fight as a one on one fight. The Alpha confronted Barton once more, he was the point of an imaginary triangle while its peers where at Barton's back.

The Alpha was on solid ground, the other two still inside of the river. Its body language was aggressive and violent trying to intimidate Barton and it was in part successful. Barton checked out his leg's wound and got even more surprised to see that there was no blood at all pouring from it.

"Well hell hero..."

Barton saw no blood from the bite on his leg.

Barton was a little shocked and he saw how the wolf reacted.

Barton stood up and having not being attacked further he dropped the sling and the rock and turned his back.

Barton honestly did not care, he wanted something.

A drink.

Barton muttered,

"Well hell boys, do what you will".

With what he had been through shit mattered little all he wanted was a strong drink.

Barton did not fight nor try he just simply spit and replied,

"Fuck it"

Barton at this point did not care he had tried and he failed.

He had failed his whole life.

Barton whipped around and splashed up a bit of water and bellowed out,

I am going to kill one of you before I die..

Barton let out a gurgled scream as he rose up his right arm and slammed his hand into the side of the wolf. The soft underbelly was the closest target to hit, Barton closed his eyes and hammered away at the side of the wolf once more. Barton could feel the fur of the wolf. Barton ran his hands forcefully up the side of the wolf, attempting to find the wolf's eyes or snout. The wolf had him by his throat as was... Drowning him? Barton did not have a lot of time to think about how he was being killed- he wanted out. Barton's hands slid up higher as he tried to find the head of the wolf.

Barton stopped struggling and rested his hand on the head of the wolf and went limp. Barton let himself so and his body stopped moving. He struggled to hold his breath but the more he fought the stronger the wolf seemed to react towards him. But all this while Barton had positioned his fingers to a place to gouge out the eyes of the wolf.. If this plan failed.

Barton thought to himself,

"Ain't bleeding... Not tearing me apart.... Perhaps I got some time... Think Barton, you know what to do...."

Barton tried to steady his nerves, his resolve and his survivalist nature went back to basics.

He thought to himself once more,

"Like Pa said.. Play Possum....."

Spoiler: