TYRANNOSAURUS REX–THE HUNTER

 

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NOTE: If anyone is interested, there’s a literary magazine, CQ INTERNATIONAL, that started a short story competition in the last issue. There’s going to be the second competition. The magazine is online and free. The entry for the competition is also free. The winner’s story is published in the next edition. The magazine is published in the UK, and the editor is Paul White. The link is as follows: http://shoutout.wix.com/so/5LGgR6hs

This story was written for Sunday Photo Fiction–April 24th, 2016. Each week the host, Al Forbes, provides a picture prompt. The challenge for each member of the group is to write an original story or poem with no more than 200 words and inspired by the prompt.

To read the other stories written by group members, just click on the little blue frog in the blue box.

The link to the other stories this week is as follows:

https://sundayphotofictioner.wordpress.com/2016/04/24/sunday-photo-fiction-april-24th-2016/

Genre: Prehistoric Fiction

Word Count: 4+198=202 Words

TYRANNOSAURUS REX–THE HUNTER by P.S. Joshi

The massive Tyrannosaurus hid in the tall growth, her mate nearby. They watched the unaware, ravenous Hadrosaurids munching on vegetation, their duck-like bills opening and closing on the tender plants. Back at the nest was a young rex, also dependent on a successful hunt.

Her mate moved first. He sprang forward. She followed. The terrified warning cry of the Hadrosaurids thundered–too late. Each rex grabbed a plant eater by the neck and wrestled them to the ground.  The herd took off and galloped across the plain, dependent on numbers and tremendous speed for safety.

The female ripped a huge mouthful from her kill’s bone and headed back to the nest. Her mate watched over the remainder as he gorged.

At the nest, she dropped a dripping mouthful near  the baby and started to eat. Following her example, he bit in, ripped a small piece off, and started to chew. He’d done this before.

She turned, left the baby, and ran back to the main kill. Her massive head lowered, she started to repeatedly rip the lukewarm flesh, her sharp, strong teeth grinding bone and meat into one mass. It slid down her throat to fill an empty stomach.

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Written Act of Kindness Award

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SHE STILL LIVES

Sewer Lid

Copyright — Adam Ickes

This is my June story for Storybook Corner hosted by Adam Ickes. Each story is supposed to be from 300 to 500 words in length, or longer if thought necessary, and be inspired by the photo prompt provided that month by Adam.

http://adamickes.wordpress.com/2014/06/23/storybook-corner-prompt-june/

Genre: Horror Fiction

Word Count: 496

SHE STILL LIVES by P.S. Joshi

As old as oxygen, she now lived in the sewers of the city; there were no more caves. Caves were what she craved; cool and damp with the scent of the earth and the different animals that came. Eating them had filled her with strength and increased her power over life. Immortal, she wouldn’t have understood death.

Rats were plentiful, but she ate little these days and could feel her energy drain.  Sewage was gradually sickening her. She only knew she felt different. Was her life force leaving her after all these ages? What could she do? Survival once meant moving from caves to the sewer. Should she move out and seek other cover?

At times, other strange animals came, but didn’t stay long. They did something to the hard, hollow vines in her lair. Hiding was her protection against these animals. She hadn’t thought of them as prey; should she? They could be captured. Why not?

Raking her claws on the walls of her lair sharpened them. Saliva streamed down her chin as she thought of her new prey. This prey would take strength as did larger animals of long ago

Rob and Sid climbed down into the Summit Street sewer. A leak had been reported and they had to inspect for it. Sid was slender, Rob stocky. They started down the tunnel.

About one block along, Rob thought he heard footsteps, the splash of feet in the water. Something large moved off to one side. “Who would want to be down here besides us?” he asked in disgust. “It’s filthy and stinks.”

Sid had moved slightly ahead. He heard Rob’s last words, “…and stinks.” He heard no more. Turning, he glanced back. “What the hell?” Rob had disappeared. “Rob. Rob.” A patch of blood was smeared on the sewer wall, but nothing else.

Sid froze in place. That kind of fear hadn’t ripped though him since Afghanistan when he survived an attack by the Taliban. It all returned like a dreaded dream. His flight response struck in a rush and he started running until he spotted the next metal ladder. Grabbing for it, he climbed upward. In a surge of desperate strength he raised the heavy manhole cover which thumped onto the pavement. Boosting himself onto the night street, he laid still on the cool pavement, sucking in the night air. His heart banged so hard against his ribs it  threatened to burst through.

Within hours, a crime scene unit  searched the sewer. They found no body, just shredded clothing and blood.

It seemed she’d traveled a great distance from the city with the body of her latest prey balanced on her shoulders. At last she found a new cave, actually an old mine. Others like this one she carried were nearby in a small gathering of animal-made caves. She would now have all she needed to survive.

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