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somthing new

 
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GriffinX
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Joined: 18 Jun 2007
Posts: 785
Location: SLC Utah

PostPosted: Tue Jun 24, 2008 5:45 pm    Post subject: somthing new Reply with quote

just a little something i thought of wile bored at work

i have no real plans to take it any further but you never know.

THE FIRST RE-F.O.R.M.
By Chris Dumas
©2008 to present this story cannot be reprinted, re-posted, rewritten, or redone without the explicit permission of the author. All characters are property of the author; all characters are a work of fiction any resemblance to anyone living or dead are purely coincidental.

Hello, I am the first re-form and this is my story. Let me set the scene of what was to be my last day, my last moments as anything resembling normal. It was known as ‘The Blue Bay’ course there was really nothing blue about it, it’s roughly fifty feet wide by two hundred and fifty feet long, the smaller of the two buildings that make up Express Metals, my steel shop. The ‘Blue Bay’ was separated into the east and west bay’s by a series of I-beam columns that not only supported the roof but the overhead rail cranes as well, the east bay being the longest of the two.
The floor was very uneven, cracks, dents, cement, and asphalt patches scattered throughout the entire bay and both ends of the east bay have rocks put down, this is where they load and unload the trucks. To say that this bay was in dire need of repair is an understatement. Tin sheet walls kept you freezing in winter and when summer came it heated up like a convection oven. Most of the smaller forklifts were also stored in the west bay.

The east bay is also taller than the west by about 6 feet; the east bay roof is roughly 30 feet off the ground. At each end of the east bay there were a set of sliding bay doors, during summer they were usually kept wide open to allow any sort of breeze to cool off anyone working there, I liked them open. I liked to watch the trains at night; they run their rail about a street width from the back of the shop. For it being the beginning of June it was actually pretty cool outside, this is unusual for this time of year for it had rained heavily the last two months causing the temperature to stay below 60 degrees at night. Ah the wonder of night shift, 4:30 in the afternoon 3:00 in the morning, this was my shift, and for the most part I liked it.

Now scattered all around the east bay was the job number 4436, a stainless steel tubing job for a buyer in the Oker mountain range known as the Kennecott copper mine. (visible from anywhere in the salt lake city valley) the job consists of large stainless steel ducts that were roughly four and a half foot in diameter (for those who don’t know, diameter is a measurement from one side to the exact opposite of a pipe) these ducts consist of S turns, ninety degree and sixty degree elbows or corner joints. Several sections of these ducts can be seen in various positions all along the floor.

It was 10:30 at night; the sun had gone down roughly an hour before. In the middle of the east bay sat a sixty degree elbow joint rather precariously held in an odd position by a 3 ton crane, and from this duct poured an iridescent white with hints of purple light, casting heavy shadows on the walls of objects between the walls and the source of the light. Along with the light came a billowing eerie white-gray smoke that slowly drifted up to the ceiling, accompanying the smoke was a faint electrical hum not too much unlike the sound of sizzling bacon on a hot skillet.

As the lights stops so to do the smoke and sounds, all that’s left is the slight hum of an unused welding machine in the background. Out of this duct, a hunched over figure emerges, after he’s made sure he has cleared the edge of the duct he stands and stretches, he’s joints and muscles sore from the odd position. The figure is that of thin, male, obviously bipedal, at roughly six foot two the 4 foot space was kind of cramped, the figure is completely clothed, not an inch of skin to be seen. Ankle high steel toe boots cover his feet, heavy duty carpenter jeans are his leggings, full cotton t-shirt and thick green cotton sleeves cover his chest and forearms, his hands are covered in a thick gauntlet style leather glove. Over his head and face is that of a black plastic hood with a large dark glass window in its face, with the word in gold bold face BOSS printed just over the window. After he had finished stretching his back out from the odd position he had been in, that figure then removed his gloves and placed them on the duct then shook his hands to cool them where they had become hot from welding he then reached behind his head and turned the knob that released the binding that held the head gear in place. He quickly lifted the face shield away from his face as he sneezed to clear his nose, 308 stainless steel wire welding smoke always seemed to do that to him.

He has very dark red hair; most confuse it for black upon first seeing it. His face is that of a normal Irishmen, strong round features strong cheeks that add definition and distinction to his high brow that intern put emphasis on his light blue eyes. He didn’t think of himself as good looking, here he is twenty three years old and not even once had himself a girlfriend, all because he had a ‘who would want to go out with this’ mentality. He had plenty of good friends so it’s not that he was a loner, though many would call him that. He kept his mind on work and because of this he never knew what to do when it came to situations like that. Now because of his work he stayed in alright shape at six foot two inches tall, he weighed only 175 pounds, underweight or so his doctors would tell him for his body size. He could bench almost 200 pounds and foot press 250. Despite that he didn’t look all that muscular, it was very well hidden.

This figure, this mundane man, this very ordinary, hardworking Joe is Neil Martin, and he is me. Tonight had been one of the more boring nights so far for some reason. It was just after lunch so I really wasn’t in a hurry to get back to work, this was about time the lunch or 10:15 train passed but for some reason it was late today. I use the time to stretch my back as an excuse to walk to the north doors to peer out into the night, I could hear the train horn in the distance, it was coming. As I look out into the night I can see the city lights of Salt Lake City, where my shop was located, it wasn’t in the middle of the city. Salt Lake City itself sits in the northeast corner of the salt lake valley, my shop sits in what’s known as Midvale which is actually pretty much in the center of the valley. I don’t know what it is about the night, my parents call me a night owl, someone who loves to stay up all night just because. Tonight is no different and in a way I prefer that I am alone for it allows me to contemplate, to consider, to ponder the meanings of life, the gods, and to wonder if there really is more than just us out there in this big universe. I guess that’s also why I like the night, peering out into the vast expanse of space, looking out upon countless array of stars.

As I look out those open bay doors, the full Moon reflects off the eastern most, grey tin walls of the main shop, casting an eerie light upon the shadows that the light form my open doors can’t reach, in to the unkempt shrubs and bushes growing through the forgotten steel. The main shop is easily five times larger than the blue bay, five sets of cranes in five different bays, in four out of the five bays the cranes run north south, in the burning bay the cranes run east west and out into the shadow that I am now gazing upon. That bay also contains the five hundred ton break press and metal sheer along with the two extra large forklifts.

I’ve had my fill of gazing at the stars tonight. I take a deep breath and release it as a sigh for I know I should get back to work. I let my eyes drift to the shadows before me, this is when I notice that there are at least three sets of eyes watching me. I know this because I can see the iridescent green and red glow that are the eyes of cats. There are many feral cats in this area, if there weren’t we would be overrun with field mice. Their present is tolerated for that fact alone. The raccoons and skunks are another matter entirely I personally would like to get rid of them, there’s been more than one occasion where I came within a breaths instant of having to be doused in tomato juice.

The reflective cat eyes that where once riveted to me, realizing that I am not a threat, begin to blink or disappear. All except for one, those eyes stayed. And me in my ignorance thought that this particular cat was just too paranoid for its own good.

Even though I couldn’t hear it yet I could feel the train approaching, it’s rumbling through the ground was evident even to my callous feet. I turned and started walking back to my project. To this day I still have no idea why I turned back to look out of the doors again, at about a quarter the way into the blue bay my view was going to be limited but I did, maybe it was because I wanted to see the train, maybe it was because I heard something, maybe it was because I just had this feeling, I just don’t know. All I know is when I did I got the shock of my life. Now some of the ‘specialists’ would later tell me that because of the cold year we’ve been having, it was forced to come down from the mountains but no one could tell me how the hell it could get to Midvale without being seen. What I was looking at was one of those nightmare come true situations for there not thirty feet in front of me just threw the bay doors with a very predatory look about it was what was known as a Mountain lion, a Cougar, a Florida panther, North American Concolor, Puma. Any of these names are correct yet none of them really instill the utter fear that I was feeling at this moment for as it stuck one paw in front of the other I realized it was stalking ME.

To realize you are being hunted is a realization that I would not wish on anyone, to come to grips with the fact that in front of you is something that wishes to not only kill you but also eat you… It’s just not something you can put into words. To say that my adrenaline peaked when I first heard it growl would be like saying that the space shuttle had just lifted off and was already at Pluto. And strangely enough I couldn’t stop thinking one phrase. “This isn’t going to end well.”

I guess at this moment I would have the most undeniably bad luck of any human being on earth for at that moment, the moment the cougar roared its attack on me, no one but me would hear it, for at this spectacularly well timed event the train that was to pass us blew its horn, deafening anyone to my plight.

With its roar it started forward at a gallop, a ground eating three steps before there was only 10 feet between the two of us, my mind working overtime my eyes widened in anticipation of its next action. This came as a jump well over my head, but do to come down right on top of me. Reflexes taking over, I side stepped, reached out and took one forepaw and arm and use all my weight and muscle I could muster in leverage against the cat, I was able to flip the cat so it would come down on its back. Now for it actually being a part of the feline family it did manage to turn itself but not quick enough to right itself. It came down hard on its side, to any human this more than likely would have broken a few ribs maybe a hip but this was a big, rugged mountain cat, to my horror after I’d let go and backed away I could see that it hadn’t even been winded by the fall.

At this point I was starting to panic, my mind saying runaway, run you fool. But my feet, they just would not move. I was riveted in place as the cat, now back on its feet began to pace to the side trying to get a handle on what I had just done. It starred me down with such intensity that I felt like I was being examined from the soul out. I was not fool enough to make a break for it, there is no way I could have out run the lion. Then again I wasn’t fool enough to not realize that there was no way I could fight and stay alive.

As I saw it there was no way of me making this one. Several things came to my mind at that moment, things that I would never have thought of in a million years had I not been presented with such a situation. It’s amazing what your mind lingers and drifts on when for some odd reason you can’t think of something to save your life. A home I never had, MY home, a family of my own. I realize that those dreams at this point were but hallow tokens of a life that was to end soon.

That’s when I made the decision, I reached for my work knife in the pocket of my carpenter jeans, a sturdy Benchmade knife, Osborne design, a forest green handle with an S30V stainless steel blade known as the reverse tonto blade. I had bought the knife one year ago and having brought it to work every day since, it had yet to lose its edge, it was not a dull blade by any means. With this knife my only weapon I stared down the cat, right back. If I was gonna go I was going to make it earn what was left.

Adrenaline pumping through my veins, I ready my knife, blade out for a quick slash motion if it came to that. The panther circled me with renewed intensity, it wasn’t planning on letting this meal get off easy. I backed up uneasily trying to give myself some reaction room. This action did not go unnoticed as the cat stopped its pacing. An almost perturbed look on its face like it was annoyed that this wasn’t going to be a quick kill, that it was actually going to have to work at it.

It started toward me at a much more cautious pace, much more tenuous then its first strike. It strikes a predatory grin, then with the snarling growl it takes a swipe at my left side, testing the waters as it were of what I could do. I dodged it easily, and just for good measure I took a swipe of my own, coming down with my knife I’m able to just barely nick its ear, inciting another growl.

First blood was mine, but that little boast was going to be nothing but a forgotten memory with no one to voice it. The cat started in with a vengeance with its next attack, furiously swiping again and again with its right paw. Again and again I managed to evade the dangers claws. I mark the cat a few more times with my knife, all along its right paw nix’s and cuts. Apparently they were nothing but mere mosquito bites, thus my deterrent actions were bypassed almost scathingly by the cat. I don’t know when the cat change tactics but when its left paw struck out at my right side it caught me off guard. And to think I was doing so well.
I landed hard on my side on the uneven concrete, I’d good chunk now poking me in the side that I’ve landed on. I look back, the cat’s movements now looks surreal compared to my own. Its next swipe at my feet sends me rolling like a log across the floor.

I keep myself rolling, trying to distance myself as far as I can, but to my dismay I am soon stopped by a large object. I’m stopped by the rolls that we use to fit a large diameter cylinders together with. An Idea pops in my head, with a feral grin on my face I look back to see where the cat is. It is slowly stocking towards me probably a good 25 feet away, I scramble to my feet and bolt for one open end of the stainless steel duct that was sitting on the rolls. As I am about to enter the duct I kick a large round red button and launch myself in. Now this action in the here and now probably would not have made any sense, as the button didn’t really seem to have done anything. I hurry and run, hunched over in the shorter space to the other end, a mere 20 feet.

As I look out, peering around the edge of the cylinder I noticed that the cat is already almost at the other end. This is not what I want. I gave a shrill whistle to grab its attention while beating on the edge of the duct. That had its wanted affect as the cougar started towards me. I ducked back in and rushed for the other side, this time however I was actually slower, a fact proven to me when I felt a shock through the steel, the weight of the cat landing inside the pipe.

I took one look at the cat and a grin spread across my face. “Let’s see how well a cat can handle a hamster wheel.” I began to walk turning the cylinder, the cat slowly kept pace still walking towards me now about 10 feet away. I sped up increasing my pace ever faster, first a jog then a run then a dead out sprint, all the while the cat kept pace although no longer coming any closer. Proving to me once again that as my stamina was beginning to wane the cat would have easily out run me.

I was starting to tire and I knew it, while running at full blast I worked my way to the edge of the cylinder, with one leaping bound I emerged from the cylinder and I fell, unable to catch myself, tripping over my own feet. I scrambled to regain my footing I rushed back to the control box with the red button that I had kicked, I slammed my hand down on the green button next to the red one. This enacted the air brakes that would stop the rolls from turning.

Boy was that a stupid idea. Sure it looked great on paper, but when the physics of a 200 something pound cat inside a rotating duct is suddenly stopped, all that mass previously in motion forced to stop, it just wasn’t going to happen. The kinetic energy of a cylinder that size rotating that fast with a being that doesn’t realize it has to stop, that energy has to go somewhere.

And that somewhere resulted in the entire shell lifting up off the rolls, coming down hard on the cement only to continue rolling, smashing right into the I-beam columns supporting the roof. To my surprise the I-beams held up against the force of impact. That was one of those times I realize just how strong steel actually was. And I realized just how lucky I was that that cylinder was turning the opposite way, it could’ve easily come right off, on top of me, had it been rotating the opposite way.

I can feel the endorphins subsiding as pain from both my side and my right leg make their presence known. I can feel the blood seeping down my side. I struggle to come to grips with exactly what is happening to me, the first strike that the puma had landed had gouged me far worse than I first thought.

At this point I was pretty sure that the cat was not going to be just walking away from that. If anything the sound of the shell hitting the columns would have been enough to stun it, it certainly did me and I was outside the shell. To this day I still can’t figure out, how come no one in the other shop had not heard that. I shuffled over to some stacked box’s that held ceramic insulation, holding my side I winced with every step of my right leg.

I made my way towards the small door, come to think of it that was the only thing colored blue was the inside of that regular hinge door. Through the maze of boxes I worked, they were stacked very irregularly so the going was never in a straight line. As I was nearing the end of the box forest I heard a deep growl coming from behind me. At this point I’m thinking this thing is super kitty, to be able to continue coming after me after that, I was religiously beginning to fear what this thing was. As I slowly came to the end of the boxes I began to hear the stretching sound like plastic wrap as it’s peeled off its role, and it was getting closer.
I looked back to see if it was already behind me, with what I have already experienced with this thing I would not have been surprised. As I look back on it that was a very bad move on my part, every horror film anywhere shows exactly what happens to those that look back, they freeze and that is exactly what I did. I froze, I could not move, I should have run like hell, but I couldn’t.

Suddenly the scrunching sound stopped, my adrenalin was starting to peek again, my heart was racing, threatening to explode and take my chest cavity with it. I couldn’t see it, I looked in any direction I thought it could or would come from. I started to back up I only got two steps before I backed into a concrete wall, the door ten feet to my right.
With nothing for my mind to focus on visions began to dance in my head, visions of that cats face. Enormously large fangs protruding from the very evil smile. Its ears curled like demonic horns. Grotesquely oversized nostrils sprouting fire. And those deep black eyes surrounded by irises of ruby red fire. And what was normally a golden velvet pelt looked as if it had been mis shavin and covered in suite.

Some say that the only demons one faces are that of his own making, obviously whoever came up with that had no idea how right they actually were. Though I’m sure very few have ever come up against the demon kitty that I was facing.

Now I’m man enough to admit when I’m scared, I’ve even admitted crying a time two. But this is the only time I can truly ever say that I was absolutely terrified. I can only imagine what I truly looked like at this moment in time, the proverbial eyes as big as dinner plates, the shaking of hands and limbs.

All I know is there is a time for panic and irrationality and there’s a time for none of it. At this point in time I could not make that decision. I was so panicked my mind even suggested that it was a good possibility that if I opened that blue door; that cat was going to be on the other side just waiting for me.

The sound of popping, cardboard being punctured reined in my imagination and brought my attention to the forefront. I stare into the maze of boxes from whence I came. Not willing to look anywhere else, for I know exactly where to look if I wished to find it, and I really didn’t want to find it.

Now I don’t know if it was curiosity or just fear, maybe a combination of the two. My eyes began to trace a diagonal pattern along the boxes, slowly rising to the top row. Where just plain as day was the cat lying down on the top most boxes, a good 3 feet above my head. The puncturing sound than I had heard where that of cat setting it back claws, readying itself.

Now I realize everything that happens next only takes mere seconds to happen, but for me it all happen way to slowly. I see the cat rise, pushing itself off from the top boxes. My eyes wide from the realization. The cat’s forepaws now at the forefront of its attack. I duck and turn managing just barely to get outside of its paws by half an inch but unfortunately I was unable to get outside of its claws. The impact of its claws upon the side of my face spun me backwards, I bounced off the wall behind me just as the cat landed against it on its paws, it pushed off and landed on the ground at roughly the same time I had, the impact of the wall on my part caused me to drop my knife.

It was on top of me within a heartbeat, luckily I had enough of a reaction time to get my hands on its jaws before they closed upon my neck. With sheer strength of will I pried them apart and pushed away from my neck, it starts shaking its head trying to loosen my hands. My right hand on its lower jaw slips, allowing it to come down and bite my fingers on my left. I was able to quickly move my fingers out of the way of those deadly teeth only to have my left hand slide off the end of its nose. Freed from my grasp it maneuvered in again trying to go for my neck. This time I was not so lucky as to catch both its jaws in my hands but my left was able to hook into something a little more sensitive.

With my fingers imbedded inside its nose I was able to lift its head up and away, again denying it the kill. With my right hand free, and the cat right above me. I did the only thing, believe it or not that I could think of. With my right hand I placed it on the back of the Cougars neck with my left I pushed up causing it to expose its throat to me. With a lunge of my own, I lifted up off the ground as if I were to sit up. With the cougar writhing in my hands I turned the tables. I took the largest bite I had ever managed or even imagined I could take, right out of its throat.

With fresh blood pouring down on my face, into my own wounds. I turned and spat what I’d taken out, across the floor. The cat continued to jerk within my hands, if flailed around trying to get free. The adrenaline coursing through my veins added strength to my tired arms. I held it in place, forcing it to comply to me. Finally with the last ounce of strength I could muster into this fight, I forced the cat’s head backwards with my left hand. And with a very satisfying snap the finality of the situation came crashing down upon me, literally.

The cat laid unmoving, an incredibly heavy weight upon me. I don’t know where I found the strength to lift, well lift isn’t that correct word, more like slide the carcass off me. I lay there looking at the now deceased creature in front of me. Amazed at the fact that I actually survived it.
I slowly regained consciousness, having, I don’t know, fainted I guess is the right word. I awake to the horrid site in front of me. Strangely I am in some way not really affected by the carnage in front of me. I know that I should be gagging or something, I just can’t bring myself to feel anything. The only thing I can think of is “this place needs a new decorator.”

I push myself to my feet, now feeling every bruise and cut. My face feels like it had been in a fight with a peeler. I stumbled against the front door. That pushed myself up and off the door, trying to hold myself steady. It took great amounts of effort just to pry the door open. The metal door clanged against the wall as I threw it open.

On the walk slash dragging of myself back in to the main shop, I had to stop several times. One to catch my breath and two because it this point I had a healthy fear of falling for I didn’t know if I had the strength to get back up. I stumbled wildly several times. I finally made it to the south bay doors of the main shop.

_________________
to each their own
"a riot is at bottom the language of the unheard." Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.
"you can get more with a kind word and a gun than you could with just a kind word." Al Capone
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GriffinX
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Joined: 18 Jun 2007
Posts: 785
Location: SLC Utah

PostPosted: Thu Jun 26, 2008 7:26 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

sorry i didn't think to do this with the first post.
_________________
to each their own
"a riot is at bottom the language of the unheard." Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.
"you can get more with a kind word and a gun than you could with just a kind word." Al Capone
http://www.freewebs.com/griffinxango/
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