The dark clung to Alpha’s fur like fine mist as he stalked gingerly out of the cave. The birds still slept, but mournful cricket song kept him company as he headed out toward the source of the terrifying sounds of yesterday.
He crept along the forest floor, softly stepping over the leaves that had just begun to fall from the trees. The crisp morning air stung his nose as he took in the sharp, wet scent of frosted dew. The calming forest smell began to give way to a new, unfamiliar smell. First it tickled, then assaulted his nose until his head was filled with it. The smell convulsed against his skull, stung his eyes, and turned his stomach. Stars danced along the edges of his vision. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the reek that was drowning the forest. His heart began to quicken and throb against his ribs. Now the stench of fear began to mix with the ripping, stinging cacophony in his nose. He hesitated, then resolutely pushed himself further toward the source of fear. Toward death.
All smell, air, and life were sucked out of him. The trees were gone. Stumps scarred the forest floor like a disease. His fear grew until it was a looming monster that hung over the air as a dense morning fog. blotting out every last ray of morning sunshine. Such devastation; he had seen old, rotten trees felled by great winds; some young ones brought down by the sky flashes—but never anything like this. But where had they gone? There were no trunks, no branches. Only the scars of stumps, some scatterings of needles and leaves stood out like drops of blood against the forest floor remained.
He could still smell them, though. The smell of wood was so powerful that his mind was telling him that he must be trapped inside a tree. His sharp eyes and keen nose were at war with one another. How could the scent be so strong when they were no longer here?
A roar pushed him violently from his trance. He ran, cowering low on his belly behind a cluster of ferns, his hackles shredding the air around him. A blinding light stole his vision. The sound grew louder. Became a dangerous purr. Stopped. His vision began to crawl back. His vision resolved into the form of a monster with two glowing, predatory eyes.
The monstrous beast was the color of dried blood. It was the largest creature he had ever seen. Taller than the largest bear, and as long as a tree is tall. Perhaps longer. Alpha gagged as the smell that had plagued his home grew even more oppressive—he hadn’t thought that possible—pushing him heavy against the soft earth cringing below the pads of his feet. He was held captive by his fear.
More roars overwhelmed him, and more beasts with glowing eyes began to gather, like a pack preparing for a hunt. Most of these new creatures would have been the largest Alpha had ever encountered had he not seen the giant first. Alpha thought the smaller monsters must be the giant’s young joining the hunt for the first time.
Alpha stifled a gag as the sides of the creatures begin to burst open. They were infested with parasites, he realized, as smaller—though still quite large—creatures begin pouring out of the giant growling beasts like beetles bursting out of the decaying corpse of some long dead animal.
Fear expelled every drop of breath from his lungs, his throat was torn away, he forgot how to breathe, and his heart raced like prey fleeing a predator. Today, he was prey.
As the buzz that sounded of clouds of bees assaulted his ears, he smelled bleeding sap, and watched in horror as another great tree crashed down to earth. The resounding roar tore through his paralysis. Alpha fled.