Shiloh Cole (Story Excerpt)
I worked really hard this weekend and clocked over 7k words. I think what started off as a short story is turning into a full book. This weekend was a breakthrough. Anyway below is an excerpt. I already know it needs editing. What I wouldn't give for a really good editor:
- SHILOH COLE -
Only five months of his sentence had passed prior to Hurricane Katrina. During the hurricane, he and other prisoners had noticed the floor becoming wet. Soon the water pooled around their ankles. Some prisoners began to call for help, only to have Deputies surface and spray them with mace. Then the Hurricane struck full force and most of the prison guards left their posts. The prisoners hopless and abandoned to their fates. Shiloh found he remained calm even when the water in his unit became waist deep. He barely flinched when a dead, bloated body floated past his locked cell.
When the water reached chest high,the prisoners became desprate. One determined band of detainees managed to break through a poorly constructed wall, freeing themselves and unlocking the cell doors for others. In the bedlam that followed, Shiloh escaped Orleans Parish Prison, along with several bald and tattooed men. They called themselves the Brotherhood Of The Wolf. Shiloh asked the street toughs if they were Arayans. The ring leader grinned, exposing a mouthful metal capped teeth. “Shit no, we’re better than that”. He continued to banter. “As far as we’re concerned all humans are scum. No matter what color” The leader prattled on divulging that a pack initiation was being held. Suprisingly, he invited Shiloh to join them. Realzing he couldn’t return home, even if he wanted to, Shiloh Cole followed the brotherhood. They waded through muddy waist deep water, for hours. Arriving at a recognizable, abandoned music megastore. Once inside Shiloh perched himself on a counter, next to a Rolling Stone Magazine display. Bored he began to pull off the covers. Dropping them aimlessly into the water. He thought they made a pretty pattern as they floated.
“Just be quiet and do what your told” the big, metal toothed-man said to Shiloh. The silent cajun just nodded in agreement. He understood these men believed him to be a simpleton. He wasn’t suprised, he’d barely spoken in prison. Which only encouraged the impression. Shiloh didn't mind really. Since no one took him seriously he went largely ignored and unmolested. Restless, he dangled his bare feet into the debris strewn water and waited. Then she appeared. He’d never seen a woman like this. She was pale, tall and lanky. Draped in a dirty, wet, and torn tee, through which her left breast was exposed. Her bottom half covered by an immodest pair of cut offs. She walked slowly down the stairs in graceful strides. Stepping into the flood waters. Long, brown locks trailing in the muck.
The brothers had fashioned makeshift platforms using discarded tables to stand on. Some of them had even stripped off their filthy clothing and now stood bare-skinned. Shiloh noticed a few were visibly aroused. The mysterious nymph moved to middle of the brackish water. She raised one hand and spoke “For the strength of the Pack is the Wolf, and the strength of the Wolf is the Pack”. The brothers howled in response. "A wise man wrote those words many years ago. I don’t doubt he was one of our kind." Whoever this woman is , she’s not form ‘round here. Shiloh thought. Her voice was thick and cultured. Like the people on the BBC channel. The strange lady cast her piercing gaze around the room, taking measure of each man present. “Some of you’ve already received the embrace of the pack, others have not." One particularly skinny man, who seemed to be missing a few teeth, bravely approached the woman. Removing his stained baseball cap, as he waded towards her. He leaned forward, tilting his head to the side, exposing his neck in submission. That was when all hell broke loose. A piercing shriek escaped the strange woman's lips. Back arching she seemed to be in the throws of passion. Shiloh noticed a few of the men doing the same. Suddenly the shadows shifted and in the woman’s place swam the largest, blackest wolf Shiloh had ever seen. Looking around the room, he realized several men had made a similar metamorphisis from human to lupine.
As a boy, he'd heard of the Loup-Garou. Magical shape changers who haunted bayous, cemeteries, and swamps. Shiloh searched his soul for fear and found nothing. The she-wolf began to take violent bites out of her admirers. Tossing them savagely about in her massive jaws. The dingy water grew red, tinted by blood. Then the wicked creature eventually turned her attention towards Shiloh. The former prisoner didn't flinch when massive fangs clamped into his side. He didn’t cry out when shewolf yanked her head back, tearing a crescent-moon shaped wound into his body. At that moment, the savage beast hidding in Shiloh's heart lept free.
- SHILOH COLE -
Only five months of his sentence had passed prior to Hurricane Katrina. During the hurricane, he and other prisoners had noticed the floor becoming wet. Soon the water pooled around their ankles. Some prisoners began to call for help, only to have Deputies surface and spray them with mace. Then the Hurricane struck full force and most of the prison guards left their posts. The prisoners hopless and abandoned to their fates. Shiloh found he remained calm even when the water in his unit became waist deep. He barely flinched when a dead, bloated body floated past his locked cell.
When the water reached chest high,the prisoners became desprate. One determined band of detainees managed to break through a poorly constructed wall, freeing themselves and unlocking the cell doors for others. In the bedlam that followed, Shiloh escaped Orleans Parish Prison, along with several bald and tattooed men. They called themselves the Brotherhood Of The Wolf. Shiloh asked the street toughs if they were Arayans. The ring leader grinned, exposing a mouthful metal capped teeth. “Shit no, we’re better than that”. He continued to banter. “As far as we’re concerned all humans are scum. No matter what color” The leader prattled on divulging that a pack initiation was being held. Suprisingly, he invited Shiloh to join them. Realzing he couldn’t return home, even if he wanted to, Shiloh Cole followed the brotherhood. They waded through muddy waist deep water, for hours. Arriving at a recognizable, abandoned music megastore. Once inside Shiloh perched himself on a counter, next to a Rolling Stone Magazine display. Bored he began to pull off the covers. Dropping them aimlessly into the water. He thought they made a pretty pattern as they floated.
“Just be quiet and do what your told” the big, metal toothed-man said to Shiloh. The silent cajun just nodded in agreement. He understood these men believed him to be a simpleton. He wasn’t suprised, he’d barely spoken in prison. Which only encouraged the impression. Shiloh didn't mind really. Since no one took him seriously he went largely ignored and unmolested. Restless, he dangled his bare feet into the debris strewn water and waited. Then she appeared. He’d never seen a woman like this. She was pale, tall and lanky. Draped in a dirty, wet, and torn tee, through which her left breast was exposed. Her bottom half covered by an immodest pair of cut offs. She walked slowly down the stairs in graceful strides. Stepping into the flood waters. Long, brown locks trailing in the muck.
The brothers had fashioned makeshift platforms using discarded tables to stand on. Some of them had even stripped off their filthy clothing and now stood bare-skinned. Shiloh noticed a few were visibly aroused. The mysterious nymph moved to middle of the brackish water. She raised one hand and spoke “For the strength of the Pack is the Wolf, and the strength of the Wolf is the Pack”. The brothers howled in response. "A wise man wrote those words many years ago. I don’t doubt he was one of our kind." Whoever this woman is , she’s not form ‘round here. Shiloh thought. Her voice was thick and cultured. Like the people on the BBC channel. The strange lady cast her piercing gaze around the room, taking measure of each man present. “Some of you’ve already received the embrace of the pack, others have not." One particularly skinny man, who seemed to be missing a few teeth, bravely approached the woman. Removing his stained baseball cap, as he waded towards her. He leaned forward, tilting his head to the side, exposing his neck in submission. That was when all hell broke loose. A piercing shriek escaped the strange woman's lips. Back arching she seemed to be in the throws of passion. Shiloh noticed a few of the men doing the same. Suddenly the shadows shifted and in the woman’s place swam the largest, blackest wolf Shiloh had ever seen. Looking around the room, he realized several men had made a similar metamorphisis from human to lupine.
As a boy, he'd heard of the Loup-Garou. Magical shape changers who haunted bayous, cemeteries, and swamps. Shiloh searched his soul for fear and found nothing. The she-wolf began to take violent bites out of her admirers. Tossing them savagely about in her massive jaws. The dingy water grew red, tinted by blood. Then the wicked creature eventually turned her attention towards Shiloh. The former prisoner didn't flinch when massive fangs clamped into his side. He didn’t cry out when shewolf yanked her head back, tearing a crescent-moon shaped wound into his body. At that moment, the savage beast hidding in Shiloh's heart lept free.