Cessation The Beginning: Cessation, #1

By W Schenck

Our world has changed. The ones we once called our beloved pets have now become our mortal enemies, their rebellion resulting in a war that has raged for a hundred and fifty years, leading ever closer to the extinction of humanity.

Corvus Black, a Leader within the League, a group of elite warriors, knows the struggles of war all too well. Losing friends and family is simply a part of daily life. And even though he wishes for nothing more than to be left alone in solitude, he is bound by his responsibilities. When the Mayor of Hollice sends him out on a dangerous mission to beg for aid against the monsters that plague the small town, he once again finds himself fighting for his life. But this time it's different. This threat is unlike any he has ever faced before. A threat that will test his courage and his skill, because out there, alone in the forest, being stalked by a nightmarish presence, he will need both if he is to survive the night…

• Language: English
• Publisher: W Schenck
• Release date: Mar 27, 2022
• ISBN: 9781957332512

Book preview

Introduction

There were signs that people chose to ignore. A select few did warn the rest of us of what would come to pass, but they had no way of knowing how it would come to pass. The radicals announcing the world's end had no understanding of how, or why, or even when. Maybe they expected volcanic eruptions, maybe meteors, perhaps the sun dying. I had no part in the publication of our planet coming to ruin, so I do not know. All I know is what actually happened: the end of the world as we knew it. Forget yesterday, for it is the past; think not of tomorrow, for it may be your last. These words ring in my ear as I grip my pen, forcing myself to record the events that have taken place. I must finish this now; tomorrow brings only new dangers. Only more anguish. Perhaps this earth shall become peaceful once more, but for now, peace is a mere hope. An illusion.

To make sense of any of this, I must begin a story from the beginning. A bark, a yelp, a growl, a whine: being ignorant and bearing no thought in mind that such things could have deeper meaning, we let it pass off as a dog being a dog. But the communication of the canine breed was astounding. There were, of course, devices that claimed the ability to interpret the meanings behind the sounds, but the intelligence of these creatures was impossible to comprehend. The barks and growls, the yapping and howling…they had been communicating with each other, their message traveling to all corners of the earth, plotting the exact day that the reign of humanity was to be undone.

It was on the first stroke of midnight on that fateful day, January 1st, 2025, that our harmless pets turned on us. Entire families were torn apart in their beds, their throats ripped out and their bellies ripped open. People came home, exhausted from working late on that New Year's Day, to find out that little Fluffy had murdered everyone they loved. When able, of course, people fought back. Guns, axes, knives, shovels, and anything else they could get their hands on. I even once witnessed a little old lady brain her beloved Dachshund with a flowerpot.

When my family first heard about it, we packed up and grabbed what we could, hoping to get away before things reached us, but we weren't fast enough. Just as we were about to leave, we were attacked by several of the rottweilers that lived in our neighborhood. They took my mother before we knew what was happening and they got my father as he tried to fend them off with an old shotgun. He died a hero, killing three and wounding two more before being taken down.

I was able to escape in our minimally stocked car, driving as fast and far as I could, having no time to bury my parents in my haste. I drove for two days until I ran out of fuel and then tried to keep going on foot, always looking for other survivors. On the third day, I stumbled across a small group of people in my position, scared and running, that let me join them.

In the weeks that followed, more and more stragglers found their way to our group, and soon, we were a big enough size to be able to defend ourselves from the hoards of dogs that now patrolled the land. We kept in close contact with other groups similar to ours and began building a compound in which we could live and survive and the dogs couldn't get in. Fortunately, before all of the radios died, we learned that multitudes of other groups were doing the same thing, from all over the world, giving us the chance we needed to form a resistance and fight back against those that we had fed, housed, loved, and nurtured, now nothing more than a fearsome enemy bent on our destruction.

So began the great war of men and dogs.

Part 1

Almost 150 years after the Great Dog War: Great, great-grandson

Chapter One

Ipaused, listening to the biting whisper of the wind. Barely November and already our first heavy snowfall, I mused. It looked like we were in for a long, hard winter.

Next to me, Travin shivered with the cold, confirming my thoughts. Can we take a break yet? he asked. It's getting dark, and we need to set up camp.

Alright, I said, nodding and unbuckled my baldric, setting it on the ground. The others behind us let out sighs of relief as they slumped down, sitting on their packs, out of the snow.

I laid my crossbow across the baldric, pulled out a large kukri from my belt, and grabbed some of the fallen branches that littered the ground, chopping them into fire-sized sticks as Travin gathered them into a pile. I tossed him the tinderbox and stood up, sliding the kukri back into the sheath.

Steph, Liam, you two take guard. I'm going to scout out the area.

Liam glanced up at me. You should take someone with you.

I shook my head. No, I'll be fine. You guys stay here and make camp, I’ll be back in a couple minutes.

And what if you run into trouble? Travin asked, rubbing his hands together as he stood up from the fire he had just lit. You’re very good at ignoring good advice. I’ll go with you.

No, I got this. I slung my crossbow over my shoulder and grabbed my scepter. I’ll be back in five minutes. Just make camp.

***

I made my way through the heavily shrouded forest, listening intently for any sounds that might indicate danger. A twig snapped in front of me, and I fell into a crouch, twisting my scepter open, sliding the handles down the shaft, exposing the two ten-inch-long leaf blades on each end, and twisted it again, counter-clockwise in the middle, to lock it in place, giving me a pugil-stick like spear.

I held the scepter in my left hand and drew the crossbow off my shoulder with my right as I crept forward, stepping carefully so as not to alert anything of my presence. I leaned against a tree and inched around it, peeking out from behind the trunk and cast my gaze from bushes to low-hanging branches in an attempt to locate the source of the disturbance. I heard a quiet growl, and this time I saw the bush in front of me shake slightly. I raised the crossbow to my shoulder and closed one eye, taking aim at the middle of the leafy obstacle. I took a deep and measured breath, trying to keep my arm steady, and slowly let it out as I squeezed the trigger.

Hot breath on the back of my neck distracted me. Without thinking, I flung myself forward, dropping the crossbow and drawing my kukri, faintly hearing the snap of teeth where I had been seconds before. I burst through the bush into the midst of three dogs, all Dobermans that looked as if they had some Great Dane bred into them, and before I had a chance to regain my balance all three charged me.

I slammed the kukri into the skull of the first one, breaking its attack and stopping the jaws only inches from my throat. The knife was torn from my grasp as the dog went down, leaving me able to take the spear in both hands. I stabbed my opponent on the left, piercing its shoulder and keeping it from coming closer. The third one, however, evaded my attack and bit into my forearm, thrashing its head back and forth, trying to rip me apart. A small blade appeared in the palm of my hand, and I snapped my elbow straight, breaking free of the dog's grip and plunging the knife deep into its eye. I jerked my hand back, a thin ribbon of blood arching through the air to spatter the white snow, staining it a dark crimson, and the dog fell to the ground, twitching, a red stream leaking from its damaged socket.

I turned to face the remaining dog, who was attempting to tear the spear loose from its body and finish what it had started, and shoved the spear hard to the ground, holding the dog down and stabbing it in the back of the neck, repeatedly, until it lay still; a scarlet halo slowly encircling its head.

I stood there, panting, blinking my eyes at the speed at which the battle had taken place. No more than ten seconds had passed since I had been flushed out of my hiding spot. And then, with a shock, I realized I had not seen what had crept up behind me. I spun around just in time as two more of them emerged from the foliage, these with a German Shepherd and Rottweiler look to them. I grabbed my scepter and tore it free of its gruesome sheath as they lunged forward, coming at me from either side.

I jumped backwards, thrusting one end of the spear into the ground, letting the frontrunner impale itself on the other end as it lunged, its claws raking the air in a vain attempt to reach me, before it toppled over, yanking the weapon from my grasp as it writhed on the ground,

I moved forward, trying to reach the scepter, but the second dog slammed into my side, knocking me over. I hit the ground hard, the air blasting from my lungs and stars dancing before my dazed eyes, vaguely aware of something pulling on my left arm. It took a second to register that my arm might be in danger of becoming dislocated, but I managed to gather my wits in time and balled up my fist, punching as hard as I could at the thing on top of me, cutting into its ribs, lacerating its entire side to its back leg. It yelped and scuttled away, giving me a moment to perform a flip, landing on my feet, before it was back with a vengeance. I had time to pull my Ka-Bar knife from my belt and then it was flying through the air, thin streaks of blood flowing behind it like red streamers. It hit me square in the chest, throwing me to the ground once again, this time latching onto my shoulder, biting hard and locking its jaw. I thrust the knife up through its stomach in a desperate tearing motion, hot entrails pouring out onto my hand. I retracted the blade and plunged it home, again and again, until the creature lay still, it's body sprawled over my gasping form.

I stuck the knife in the mouth of the dog, trying to pry it loose, but I was too weak from pain and loss of breath and soon I just gave up, instead closing my eyes and resting, listening to the sounds of the forest as I waited for my friends to arrive. Soon I heard a shout and the rhythmic pound of feet, preceded by Liam who burst into the clearing, exploding through a white cloud of powdery snow from a low hanging branch.

Get this thing off me, I said, my voice muffled from the fur pressed against my face.

It took Liam a second to understand that what he was looking at was not a talking dead dog, but his friend, and he did eventually realize that I was being smothered, which spurred him into action.

Holy shit! Zeik, Travin; over here! I found him!

Soon I was surrounded by the rest of the group, Harris bending over me as the others hovered in the background.

How is it, Doc? My voice sounded weak and strained, even to me.

Harris shook his head. Not good. I knew you shouldn't have run off without Travin. Why do you always do this?

I needed a new coat.

This isn't funny! he snapped. You could have been killed. Steph, help me get rid of this ugly son of a bitch.

Me or the dog?

You. Now, shut up and don't move, ‘cause it'll just make it worse.

They seized the dog's mouth and yanked as hard as they could. A wave of nausea threatened to engulf me as pain tore at my body. Finally, they managed to pull it off and help me in a sitting position.

We'll have to carry him back to camp. I don't think he can walk.

I'll be fine, just give me a minute.

I got him. Travin picked me up under the arms and braced me as my arm hung limply over his back. Comfy?

Been worse.

Conrad and Liam kept guard while we struggled back to the campsite. Travin set me down gently next to the fire and dug in my baldric, pulling out the dented tin cup I carried, filling it with hot water from the pot on the fire while Harris mixed in an herbal tea to ease the pain.

Here you go.

I took the cup from Harris. Thanks.

Help me get that coat off, Trav.

They stripped off my outer clothes, leaving me bare to the waist, shivering in the cold. I held the drink in my numb hands, watching the steam drift away on a slight breeze. Harris walked up to me, a small bundle in his hands. He raised his eyebrows at my lack of enthusiasm towards the hot liquid.

That isn't poison. He motioned at the cup. This is going to hurt, and that will dull the pain and help you fight infection.

I stared at it in disgust. Your concoctions always taste like dog piss. I'll deal with the pain.

I'll tell Leslie.

You wouldn't.

Try me.

I closed my eyes and took a sip, almost gagging it back up.

Put some mint in it. Travin held out a tiny tin of crushed leaves. I dropped some into the cup and sipped again. I grimaced, but it made no attempt to start a revolution with my stomach, so I withstood it stoically. Harris sat next to me, cradling a bowl of boiling water from which he withdrew a needle.

Try not to move too much, okay?

Yes, ma'am.

He stuck me with the needle, causing me to yelp and glare at him. He grinned. Oops.

I gritted my teeth and took another sip, concentrating on the burning of my throat as it went down instead of the burning of my arm as Harris took great pleasure to extract as much pain as he could. After a while he took pity on me and placed a handful of snow on my shoulder until it was numb before returning to his work. He wasn't the friendliest of people, but sometimes he could be almost human.

After he finished with the stitching, he mixed up a thick paste to keep out infection, smearing it on my wound and then wrapped a bandage tightly around my shoulder. I flexed my arm when he finished, wincing at the sharp twinge as I lifted it above my head.

You're not allowed to do anything strenuous for the rest of the week, but I know you won't listen to me. If that opens up, let me know. For now, just sit there and try not to be an idiot.

I gave him a thumbs-up and pulled on my coat, moving closer to the small fire, feeding it small sticks once in a while. I sat there glumly, watching the others as they chopped piles of wood and pitched tents, keeping themselves busy. Travin had laid what remained of my crossbow down next to me, and I stared at it despairingly. I had broken it in my fall from the bush and now it was nothing more than fancy firewood. I sighed and kicked at it moodily. The only positive thing I could see coming from this encounter was that I had five new hides to trade, and fresh meat to sell to the butcher.

Finally, I couldn't stand being idle any longer and I got up, wincing as my arm shifted, and, at a leisurely pace, made my way over to the tent Travin had set up for me. I rummaged through my baldric, pulling out a spare change of clothes, and began to dress, being careful of my wound, then picked up the half-gloves I always wore. I frowned at them, blood still staining the small spikes embedded into the knuckles, and quickly wiped it off, drying them before the moisture had time to soak into the leather, and pulled them on over the light woolen gloves I had on. I flexed my fingers, listening to the soft murmur of the leather as it adjusted to my hand. I pressed the switch on the top of the gloves with my thumb and with a small click the spring-loaded knife blade sprung from the hidden compartment nestled within the leather against my palm. It snapped down and I made a fist, slashing through the air in uppercuts and stabbing at invisible enemies. I paused and smiled, pleased that the blood had not jammed the mechanism in my glove. They had saved me more times than I could count, but if one piece of equipment failed it could mean my death.

I pressed the switch again and slid the blade back into my glove, then took them off and tucked them back in my baldric. They were good for battle but not for what I was about to do. I pulled out my Ka-Bar and made my way over to where the bodies of the dogs had been piled, took off my coat, grabbed the first one, and started to field dress it. The body had cooled off in the time it had lain there, but the insides still steamed as I pulled them out and tossed them to the side, away from the camp. Soon I had all of them cleaned and I started on the task of skinning them, wrinkling my nose at the putrid smell of excrement that still clung to their fur.

I stood up, my back cracking from being bent over for so long, and started dragging the carcasses away from the fire, packing them in snow to keep them fresh. Over at the fire, Zeik and Conrad had a pot of water bubbling and I poured some in a bowl, washing the stench of blood off my hands.

It'll be dark soon. Any thoughts as to who's on first watch?

Conrad and Liam can be first. I tossed the red water into the forest, watching it as it spread out in the air, forming a thin membrane before tainting the white ground. Travin and Zeik can take second, Steph and Harris third, and I'll finish out the night. If we get up early and pack up fast, we could probably make it to Hollice before noon. And now to a more important issue: who's cooking dinner?

Without any surprise, I was voted chef.

You're lucky I'm not Harris, I muttered under my breath as I stirred the pot of stew. I might try to poison all of you.

You were also voted food tester, Travin called from the side, bringing grins to the rest of the men. Soon we were all sitting around the campfire eating supper.

I'm not washing the dishes, you know. I cooked, so someone else can take care of that.

Steph nudged Conrad. You're on first watch. You wash up.

That's not fair, he protested. Liam's on first with me.

I stood up. You both can wash up. I'm going to bed, and I'd rather not be disturbed by anything, so you can all shut it.

What about a pretty lady to wake you up? Zeik asked with a grin.

I snorted. Good luck finding a dress to fit you. Good night.

I grabbed my cup and walked off as the others chuckled at Zeik’s indignant face, heading back to my tent. Quickly, I brushed my teeth and packed everything back into my baldric, making sure I was ready for a quick departure in the morning, then crawled under my blanket, threw my coat over myself for an extra layer, curled up, and fell asleep.

Chapter Two

Someone was shaking my shoulder. Hey! Wake up!

Is it my watch yet?

No, but…

Then go away and let me sleep.

God damn it, get up! Steph and Harris are missing!

My eyes snapped open and I scrambled up, throwing on my coat as I left the tent. Where did they go? Anyone see them?

No. I got up to relieve myself and neither one was in the camp. Travin and Conrad are searching for tracks now.

Just then Travin dashed into the faint ring of light radiating from the dying glow of the fire. I found tracks leading away from the camp. They look fresh, but dog prints overlap them.

My blood turned to ice. Meaning they're being stalked.

Travin nodded, his face tight with worry. At least three, maybe four.

I spun around and ran back to my tent, grabbing my scepter and kukri, thrusting the latter into the waistband of my pants, and hurried back to where Travin and Zeik waited for me. Both of you follow me. Conrad, Liam: stay here until we cry for help. Don't let any shades destroy the camp while we're gone.

I grabbed a still burning branch from the fire and wrapped a spare bandage around it, waiting for it to ignite before following the footprints, keeping low to the ground. I scanned the forest floor for any telltale signs, but nothing appeared until we found Harris. He was a fair distance from camp, his throat torn out, blood still leaking into the snow. A wave of rage swept over me, and I picked up his crossbow, loaded it, and started off in the direction it looked like Steph had run.

What do we do about Doc? Zeik whispered to me.

We can't do anything yet. Not until we find Steph.

A howl filled the silence, followed by a high-pitched scream of pain. I sprang forward, Travin and Zeik right behind me. I dashed along the trail, arriving in time to see Steph getting ripped apart. One dog turned its bloody muzzle towards me, giving me a perfect target as I raised the crossbow. The bolt sped through the air with a whistle, making a soft thump as it buried itself in the dog's cranium. The creature flopped backwards, disturbing the other two from their meal. Travin and Zeik bounded up next to me and fired simultaneously, bringing the other two down without a sound.

We rushed to Steph's side, checking his wounds. Both of his legs were shredded, and his stomach looked as if something inside him had exploded, his leather armor torn and peeled back like flayed skin.

His eyes were wide and filled with pain and panic as he tried to form words through the blood obstructing his mouth. Sirens, he finally gasped, a bubble popping on his lips, spattering my face with tiny red drops. We heard something whimpering...crying...went to check it out...we were attacked…trapped…Oh, God help me!

We have to stop the bleeding!

How? We can't move him in this state, he'll die!

He'll die for sure if we don't do something! Grab his arms, we'll try to get him to camp.

We pulled him along as quickly as we dared, blood spurting from his abdomen as he thrashed and contorted from the pain. I grabbed Harris as we passed his still form, slinging his crossbow over my shoulder and stripping off his coat, holding it against the river of crimson from Steph, trying to stem the flow.

Conrad raced up to us. What the Hell happened?

Sirens. We killed them all. Quick, help me out. He won't last the night without attention.

I rummaged through Harris' kit as the others struggled to remove Steph’s armor, and pulled out a pair of scissors, snipping away the fabric around the wound on Steph's stomach as Travin tied tourniquets around his legs.

Holy shit. How is he still alive?

He won't be much longer if you don't do something. Put this on the wound.

I handed Zeik the rest of the paste that Harris had smeared on my shoulder. We're losing him fast.

I know, I know.

What do we do?

I took a deep breath. We leave. Now. Break camp. We're out of here.

No one spoke a word as we tore down camp, rushing around as fast as we could, packing up what we needed. We threw some of the tarps we used as tents together, making a stretcher to carry Steph and one to carry Harris. We quickly loaded everything up, Travin and I pulling one sled, Conrad and Liam pulling the other, and Zeik guarding the back.

Make sure Steph knows he's in for a rough ride. Everyone ready? Let's move.

***

For the first few miles, we saw nothing but the flash of bare branches as trees flew past, but soon we could hear the sharp bark of a dog and the distant baying of a hunting pack. A howl cut through the air, too close for comfort, chilling the blood in my veins. Unspoken consent forced us to run faster in an attempt to outdistance them, but what man could outrun a dog? Perhaps if we would have a chance if we were unladen and had no injured comrade, but these were options that were not available.

They're getting closer! Zeik called from the back. Can we step up the pace?

We're going as fast as we can, I gasped. My muscles were burning from the strain of pulling the sled and my shoulder felt as if it were being stabbed with a molten knife. We can't keep this up much longer.

Don't stop! Conrad gasped.

Don't plan on it, Travin grunted back.

A cry from behind caused me to turn my head, almost tripping over a rock as I kept running. Zeik was frantically twisting the crossbow's second chamber into firing position as he skipped over the snow, a furry body flopping around with three bolts buried in its body, little clouds billowing around it as it twitched its life away.

Keep going! he screamed at me, waving his hands, pointing us onward. I spun to the front and