hunting in the fog

 photo trees_zpsa150d482.jpg
Credit: Keith Aggett

The fog settled in for the evening, adding an extra bit of chill to the air, and layering everything in a fine mist.  The moon’s light filtered through the water and made the forest glow.  It made the world brighter than it should have been.  Hunting was hard enough normally.

Lupin flicked his eyes back and forth in search of the slightest movement, the slightest shifting of a shadow.  His quarry was close.  He could smell the fear radiating into the night air.  The thickness of the fog made the smell fat and heavy and stay closer to its source.  That he could smell it all mean he was very close indeed.  But, he wasn’t willing to give away his position first.  He was patient and would wait for his quarry to break and run.

The smell was intoxicating though and Lupin was forced to lick away the drool forming at the edge of his mouth.  The taste was sweet and further fueled the fire within him.  His resolve was strong, but if his prey didn’t move soon Lupin knew he’d have to change tactics.  His lust was growing too strong to control.

A twig snapped, an odd sound on a wet night, and Lupin swung his head in the direction of the disturbance.  His eyes narrowed to slits as a shadow swayed the wrong direction against the current of the breeze.  His lips twitched upwards into a frightful snarl of pleasure.

You’re mine now, Lupin thought before he stepped from his own shadow and gave himself over to his magic, chanting, “tsaf gniat llafiber alesree.”

He drew the intricate arcane symbol in the air with his left hand, and rubbed a scrap of rabbit fur together with charcoal in his right hand.  When he felt the energy drain from him, not enough to make him stumble but the spell he was casting was powerful so it was close, he threw the magically infused artifacts from his right hand towards his quarry.

At first the fur and rock tumbled end over end as they arced away from his outstretched hand, but then the magic ripped loose from his soul and they fused into a fireball.  The already bright forest erupted with the sound and light of his furiously roaring spell.

The sphere of flames ate through the first couple of trees that stood in its path and then finally burst into the tree near where Lupin had seen movement.  The fire spread and licked upwards towards the heavens.  The fog crept away from the heat.  His prey screamed as the fire circled around him.

Lupin’s smile deepened and he stepped into the flames to go for the kill.


This sinister bit of flash fiction was inspired by the picture at the top which was provided by moi’s Once More With Feeling prompt for this week.

What do you see when you look at the photo?  Write it, link it, post it!

35 thoughts on “hunting in the fog”

    1. The elephant goes toot!! ;-)

      I was originally thinking wolf… either a story about being hunted by a wolf, or a story of hunting from the wolf’s perspective, which is how it starts… that’s the feeling I wanted to give, and then hit you with a twist that it was actually a magician.

      1. Yep. Several times. I first heard it a little bit before Thanksgiving. And I knew it was bad… but, then when it was featured on the final night of Dancing with the Stars this season I finally realized how terrible it truly was. ;-)

      2. Heh. Yeah, but at least they had their moment of fame. Which, for some of us, is important for some reason. Sometimes to the point that we don’t care what we’re famous FOR . . .

    1. Hah!
      I hadn’t even thought of Harry Potter, though I guess I should have. I had wondered why the name sounded so familiar. I started with wanting a wolf association, so “lupis” and then switched that to “lupin,” because I that that sounded cool. No wonder! *forehead slap* I worry about me.

  1. I love your story, but I love all your stories. This pic definitely inspires thoughts of wolves and vampires (of the nonsparkly type) and all things bump in the night. I miss doing Moi’s prompts, I may have to try to steal some time for this one!

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