December 21st prompt "discover"

  Music: SINISTER||Christopher Young    

Bill Wetherston pulled his collar up and tied his scarf in a thick knot around his neck. Pulling on thermal gloves he picked up the dog leash.

"Come on Max, I'm running late," he said, over his shoulder. A Labrador-collie cross pelted towards the front door. The dog answered with a single bark announcing he was ready for his first walk of the day.

Bill locked the door before making his way down the communal stairwell. Max' claws clicked down the cement stairs, its tail occasionally belting the iron railings causing a deep thrum to echo through the block. Bill tried shushing him as they moved down but knew it was a pointless exercise when Max was so excited for his walk.

Out onto the street, Bill was grateful he had put on his fleece-lined coat. It was bitterly cold. The pavements and roads had an inky sheen about them, a warning of black ice underfoot and the grass was white, stiff with jagged frost-blades which glittered under the streetlights.

Crystallised vapour streamed from Bill's lips as he called his pet to heel. Max dutifully obeyed; he was a smart dog, he knew when he would be given free rein.

The only other person to be seen in the street at this early hour was Kevin, the paperboy. The hooded teenager, head down, looking as though the world was on his shoulders, walked with hands sunk deep in his jeans pockets and a big canvas bag of newspapers slung over his shoulder.

"Good morning", Bill greeted. The hood bobbed and the lad just grunted a response. Bill shook his head. "Teenagers!" he muttered.

Digging his hands into his pockets, shrugging his shoulders against the bite of winter's chill, Bill moved on as Max trotted ahead.

Bill glanced up at the star-studded sky. The moon provided more than adequate light along the winding path - just as well considering he had forgotten his torch in his hurry to get out the door. The route they were about to take crossed over the river further down and circled neatly back into the housing scheme. At a steady pace, it would give Max a good 30-minute walk.

An owl hooted up in the woods, waiting for a response. A few seconds later another answered. Max then barked and took off at high speed. Rabbit chasing - how he loved terrorising the little critters.

The dog's barks echoed along the riverside then stopped abruptly, the quarry having obviously escaped. Before long, Max came back along the path, tail wagging, tongue lolling, pleased with his little burst of energy.

They continued on, Bill taking care not to lose his footing on the icy tarmac.

Max shot off once more, barking. Bill frowned. It sounded sharper than normal. The dog barked again, followed by a guttural growl. Then a whimper.

Bill started in an erratic sliding run towards Max. He slowed as he saw him standing stock-still, staring at bushes to the left of the path. "What is it, boy?"

Without looking at his master, Max continued growling. The sound was unsettling. Bill was not prone to being easily scared, but Max' behaviour was starting to creep him out.

Max remained fixed, his tail curling between his legs. Bill scratched the backs of the dog's ears, trying to calm him as he tenuously stepped forward to see what had the dog so agitated. His jaw dropped.

A young woman lay on the frost-riddled ground. Her face, frozen in an expression of horror - eyes wide, mouth open in a silent scream. Frost-blades had formed on her lashes and the sides of her hair. In the moonlight, her skin looked blue.

The right side of her jacket was shredded and exposed her mutilated arm and chest. Tattered strips of flesh and leather were iced across the ground.

Bill stumbled back, shocked by the discovery.

Frantically, he patted his pockets looking for his mobile phone. "Fuck!" he breathed. He'd left it at home along with the torch. There was no option but to head home and call the police. "Come, Max!" He started walking briskly back along the path. The dog stayed put, growling again. "Max!!"

With a whimper, Max turned and ran towards Bill - and kept running, straight past his owner with hackles raised. Goosebumps, not accredited to the cold, popped all over Bill's skin. Before he knew it, he was running after the dog, sliding occasionally on the iced path, struggling to keep upright.

Behind the bushes where the woman's body lay, a pair of black orbs watched as the man and his companion fled the scene.

The creature, vaguely humanoid, pressed its translucent palms on the frostbitten ground and pushed its torso upright. The lower half of its body had not fully formed yet, the skin bubbling as veins and capillaries rapidly threaded their way beneath the epidermis towards all extremities. Its mucilaginous form squelched and pulsated as it filled out, taking shape. Black hair, mere wisps like spider-silk, floated out from its scalp, gradually thickening around the shoulders, snaking its way down the vertebrae.

Its head swivelled as it took in the surroundings. An ophidian tongue flicked from between its black lips, tasting the air.

Checking the rest of its body, a long drawn out hiss of approval sounded. Everything was finally as it should be.

Now, it needed to feed.