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Chapter 5

"Come on Jim, you said it yourself. I need a break from the farm," He coaxed into the receiver although the reply exasperated him. "It'll only be for a week or two and all you have to do is check in and feed the horses. You're daughter will love to see the foals and the boys can ride the older ones, I've got all the gear in my house." Ben waited for the reply, knowing he had won his friend over, "I'll leave the key in the gumboot like I always have and some cash in the tea jar in case the horses need it. Thanks Jim, I owe you one."

Clicking off the receiver he walked lightly over to counter were his third cup of tea waited for him today. As he sipped the lukewarm drink he shivered a little and glanced back at his black egg which waited for him on an overly soft armchair in the small living room. At some point during his second cup of tea he had finally gathered up enough confidence to put the egg down on the armchair so he could think a little more clearly about the preparations that were necessary for his mostly dark journey. Beyond getting to the coast, he very little idea as to were he should be heading or what he would be doing. There was only so much he could carry on horseback, he was already regretting his decision against using the car even though it stood on a twenty meters away from him outside.

Whirling on the spot for a brief moment, Ben made up his mind and paced through the lounge room door to gloomy hallway. The corridor was nearly two meters in width and made up the "backbone of the house" as he liked to think. All the rooms, five in total, branched off from this wooden hallway as well as having a few hidden cupboards tucked neatly beside the sparse furniture. The hallway was one of the strongest memories he had of his ex-wife and, try as he might, he hadn't the heart to remove her once beloved furniture despite having been abandoned in the settlement. They had spent many afternoons shopping around and arguing before buying them and they had spent the few brief years piled with photographs of the young couple and other mementos of their happiness. Now the furniture was piled with memories of everything that had come afterwards but Ben couldn't forget the scene that he had memorized so lovingly every time he had passed through this hall during his marriage.

His long legs took him to the right and past a set of waste high drawers that were overflowing with pictures of his horses but amongst them he knew there was a single unframed, decaying picture of him and Elloise just after getting engaged. He had forgotten exactly where it was amongst the other photos nor did he have any inclination to unsettle the pile for a single picture. Stopping at the right of this set of drawers he opened one of the larger cupboards in the hallway that was piled high with his more emergency-inclined items. He had always made sure to check the items through once a year just incase there was an accident or some disaster that prevented him from reaching the nearby towns of city. Normally the small room collected dust and cobwebs for most the year until he had his  annual lazy month and feasted of the reserve food inside.

Thankgod I didn't decide to skip the top up in January. This could have been more of hassle than I would have wanted. His hands nimbly brushed off a daddy-long-legs web from a couple of bundle packs of noodles. I'm going to need as many light foods as I can get, tins are going to be too much of a hassle so I'm going to need to go into survival mode. He though with a thrill at being able to use his pocket survival guides on everything under the Australian sun.

Shifting through the remainder of the cupboard he withdrew with a hair full of cobwebs and an armful of two minute noodles, powdered substances, the emergency tin of tea, and variety of other 'necessary' items as deemed by his holy survival guides. Carefully navigating through the hallway, more cautious because of the temporary blind patch generally around his upper torso caused by the small mountain of supplies, he finally let them collapse onto the counter, flinching as a few of the noodles cracked against the stone counter.

"Bloody hell," He cursed mildly out of habit. He really didn't care because it would all end up being eaten, crushed or not. "I should really have stocked up on those cooked, shelf noodles, shouldn't I?" He looked towards the egg, barely visible behind the armchairs back, "And why am I talking to you. I can't even confirm that you're an egg anyway, bloody thing."

Sighing, he bent over in a luxurious stretch before retrieving his stone egg and heading out into the rising sun. The morning had nearly all been spent on preparations, that single phone call was mostly the cause of this ritual breaking but he grudgingly knew that it was more than the single phone call that had disturbed his life. For some odd reason he could not fathom why he was stubbornly refusing to blame the weird egg for everything that had happened over the past day. He felt more like a mother than a father at the moment and he didn't even have children!

Ruffling his hair with his free hand, "What has happened to my life?" He had been more grounded than this little more than a day ago, though never completely no-nonsense, and yet he could almost believe that he anything was possibly in this upside-down world. I doubt I'm the only one who feels this way, what with the Gifted and Creatures running around like something out of a movie.

He briskly walked to the fence, forgetting his loyal green gumboots on the porch, and continued walking along the perimeter. He had remembered his gumboots with the first step into the still-moist grass and powdery soil but decided against retreating back to the boots. He wanted to spend his morning in bare feet, he didn't know when he would be able to return to his beloved farm that was the most worrying thing about this whole journey. He had only the starting date but when and how he would return was a complete mystery to him. Some how he knew that could never return, perhaps it had been because of the half-forgotten dream into which he had slipped during the night with the egg.

Please don't be true. My whole life has been this farm and these horses, I don't want any of this to change. As is called, a two-toned brown mare paced up to the fence with a welcome neigh. Ben reached out and soothed himself, forgetting his worries briefly as he focused all his attention on scratching the strong neck and in return was graced with a gentle nip and soft tongue. He withdrew and continued around the fence, greeting each herd member in turn. By the time he had made a full circle around the two joined paddocks  the horses had satiated their attention, some more than others, and were peacefully grazing once more. He watched from the top fence as the two foals began to play, kicking up the red soil and bouncing through the yellowing grass.

Turning away, he unconsciously rubbed the egg on his way back inside, soothing himself with the cool touch of the smooth surface. The exhausting day was spent in much the same manner as the morning. By the time he finally could recline back in the path so he could literally clear away the cobwebs, his proper backpack and horse bags along with riding gear, lay clean and ready by the front door. He had contemplated leaving after a sleep in but something compelled him to leave before the dawn.

If I've learnt anything, just go with it. It's probably for the best.

Chapter 6

"Come on girl, just a little further Gal," The tanned man coaxed his weary horse down into the dip nestled between the two hills. As soon as the mare paused by the shallow stream for a well earned drink the man dismounted and gave his faithful friend a hearty rub down with a handful of winter-dried grass. The mare flicked an ear towards him but continued on drinking from the stream, the froth still noticeable at the corners of her mouth where the bit emerged. He sighed with a glance at the sinking sun and retrieved the already worn lead rope and halter. Swiftly he exchanged this less obtrusive gear with the riding tack and tied the lead rope to a nearby gum tree.

Pacing out his cramped legs, he explored this welcome hollow for any surprises. I've already been seen traces of two different Creatures this week without constantly feeling like I'm being stalked. If only that was a movie thing. He had spent many nights in the open or at the top of hills. He knew it was a matter of time before he had to break cover and begin passing through populated areas. This area wasn't what his tanned mother had once described to him. Gone where the large areas of bush and instead there were narrow strips of forest border by houses and roads. He had covered quite a distance but it paled beside what he should have made. Gal had never been bred or trained for cross country riding and it was even more important that she rested consistently.

Maybe in a months time I'll be able to go faster once she has been hardened for this type of riding but now is not the time. Besides, I wouldn't be making much more time seeing as I need to start setting up camp before sunset. Wouldn't want a bunyip to catch me unawares. He smiled at the thought even as his stomach quailed at an imaginary scene from the dreamtime stories. He hadn't had any news since he had started the trip besides the outdated newspaper he had found near the outer reaches of this stretch of bush. It hadn't told him anything new, just the same old headlines about various new Creatures being discovered in other continents. Perhaps Australia just wasn't as curious to see just how many dreamtime stories were real.

Busily recounting his favourite dreamtime stories, most of which where about how the various Australian animals had come to be, he briefly scoured a ten metre circle around the rough spot where he would set up camp. Happy that had memorized enough of the perimeter and content, but still wary, that nothing lay waiting for him within the invisible boundary Ben walked eagerly back to Gal and retrieved his egg from one of the saddle bags still on the horse. Carefully he examined the egg for scratches or dents but he was less worried after he had stupidly dropped the egg onto rocks during a rainstorm five days ago.

He had jumped off Gal in a hurry, chasing after the egg and wincing at every rock it struck on it's way down the hill. Gal had walked calmly after him, weary from the two days of hard riding, and stared at him collect the egg at the bottom of the hill, cursing to himself as he scoured the egg for signs of damage. There had been no visible signs of damage but Ben hadn't completely crossed off the idea that damage had been done to the embryo inside, if there even was one.

The surface was as unblemished as the first day he had found it but, as he turned it in the sinking suns' light, the ebony colour seemed tinted red. Lowering it so that his shadow lay across the egg he looked over, positive that it was tinted red and not just the red sheen he had seen before. Perhaps the thing is alive and this is part of its development. He hoped but it seemed more like it was hemorrhaging. He wasn't concerned about this parental feeling he had over this strange object, Ben had just accepted it after three days of travel because it was harder to fight this abnormal emotion than it was to relish it.

Turning back to his mare, he hefted his backpack of the saddle bags and leant it against the nearest tree, an old smooth-bark gum tree. I really should keep carry that bag on my own back but it's been so nice on my own back. Besides, it's only been two days. He thought guilty, pulling out the ever-ready towel from his packed mountaineering backpack. It wasn't a huge version like you normally see but it still could carry a load.

Standing up he took a closer look at his surroundings. The dip in the hills was only a few metres below the level of smallest hills tip and was mostly filled with rocks and scrubs. The  trees were less numerous in this dip but they were larger than those on the surrounding hills, rising up to meet the tallest tree in the canopy. Turning a full circle which took in the narrow, ankle-deep stream that ran perpendicular to the way he had entered he spotted an idea location amidst two large rocks on the slope of the other hill.

Taking a hop-step over the stream, he walked up the slope to survey the chosen site. The land was flat enough to support a tent and, kicking a few offending rocks away, clear of debris so that he wouldn't end up waking up with a indentation in his side again. Just to be on the safe side, he checked out the two large rocks, the biggest one was almost his height in length, but neither had any noticeable holes which might hide a beastie or two. It might be getting towards winter but he wasn't going to take any chances with the snakes, let alone Creatures.

Confidently Ben loosely rolled the towel into a sausage and laid it on the smaller rock in a a tight circle. The towel circle was nestled against the larger rock which nearly boarded two sides of this particular position. Carefully he untucked the foot-high egg and gently wedged it into the rough nest, wobbling it a few times before withdrawing. From the eggs new position, facing towards the stream, he would be able to keep a close eye on it will building his small camp.

Chapter 7

He went about his business swiftly but accurately. Growing up in a rural town meant he had had plenty of previous experience as a kid in making camp. Back then it had been for fun, the necessity self-imposed, but now he needed to build camp out of survival. True he had picked to go on this trip but he longer felt he had the will to turn back.

It's like something is pulling me forward. I...
He paused, half finished his thought and tent, as he felt a tingle at the back of his neck. Slowly he turned around, scanning every millimeter of the clearing but barely a leaf moved in the sunset bathed clearing. He scowled at the a innocent bush before bending down to pull the pole into the little elastic resting place. He felt the tingle again but it was only the wind brushing the clearing and sending the leaves into a quiet chorus. He rubbed the sweat from the back of his neck before putting his free hands into action again.

Maybe it's my imagination, he dragged the horse bags that he had removed a few minuets ago from the horse. Nothing can "pull" me to it can they? Not over this distance anyway. He added after a seconds hesitation.

The prickling sensation returned again, stronger than the breeze he had felt earlier. He whipped around, dropping his bed roll at the entrance to the tent and scanned the briskly darkening dip. The shadow of the hill he had just crossed just touched his tent, a universal warning.

"God dammit!" He cursed, stumbling over a rock on his rush to his egg, all thoughts focused on getting it inside the near-complete tent. His nerves were hard-wired tonight, more so than they had been over the past days. Never had he felt so watched and his neck would not stop prickling.

Nursing his egg as if it had been the one to stub its' toe, he wrapped the towel around it as best he could in the crook of his arm. Carefully and much slower, unsure he would be able to find the black egg in the dusk shadows, he brought it over to the tent and placed it securely in the dead center, arranging the towel into a nest again. Once it was done, all the urgency returned and he fumbled for his matches and kindling. The fire was built swiftly and rather messily next to the stream, a mere two metres from the tent but safely surrounded by dirt, sand and a ring of hand-placed rocks.

With the fire blazing brightly as the last of the sun passed below the horizon he could relax slightly but he would never be completely secure until the sun returned to the southern hemisphere again. Again his neck prickled but he ignored it this time. He still had to deal with his mare before dinner.

Slowly he picked his way to the tree her rope was still tied to. The trees rustled again but there was no way he would be able to see beyond the glow of the fire and his senses could not be relied upon for help. All he could do was prey it was the wind. As he reached out his fingers brushed the slightly rough surface of the gum. He fliched slightly, his fear growing with the every minute. Following the trunk downwards he found the rope and gripped it tightly with his hand, with the other he followed the twisted rope around to the knot and fumbled with the knot.

Freed, he started to reel in the rope silently. The silence in the gully unnerved him. Remember Ben. If Gal isn't worried then you should-

BEN!

He flinched towards the fire, pulling a muscle in his neck as his head whipped towards the tent. In that same moment the shrill voice had pierced his head the rope pulled out of his hands and he stumbled forwards. The rope flicked out of his, burning a fine path across both, as Gal neighed ahead of him, her voice pitching higher as he heard her begin to canter to his left. Looking up into the darkness and pair of luminous grey eyes caught his but were lost as the thing charged after the horse in a cat-like silence.

Bennn

The voice sounded through his skull in a deeper rumble than before, breaking him out of his stupor. Slowly he backed towards the stream, slipping slightly on the mossy pebbles but he barely felt the cold water as it seeped through the elastic in his leather boots. As he felt the warmth of the fire spread across his back he finally tore his eyes aware from the gaping darkness. He could barely think, fear of those eyes and deafening, blinding darkness, had numbed his mind and all that remained was an urge to protect the egg.

His head whipped sharply to his left as another sharp, abrupt horse scream sounded less than twenty metres to his left. He stumbled again as he legs continued drawing his closer to the tent. A pace away from the tent he took a deep shaky breath in. He had been hyperventilating unconsciously and now his mind was numb and light headed. Giddily he wondered what good his mind would be even if he could think straight. He did not doubt that those eyes would have no trouble picking him off.

Pushing through the already open zip door, he tumbled into the tent, aware that his bags still lay outside. He crawled back to the entrance and pulled his bed roll in and wrapped the stiff fabric around him before tucking his egg in with him. His shock over took the fear as he sat there.

Chapter 8

A shrill screech split the air followed by a return screech that rumbled into a squawk. Ben abruptly heaved upwards, his arms tingled as the feeling returned and he unwound them from around his stone egg. The chorus of birds continued above him, soothing his nerves as he glanced around the tent as the light left a thick dapple pattern on the tent. He slowly got up, afraid that this strange morning peace could be shattered with a single sound.

When did I fall asleep? How did I fall asleep? The thoughts swirled through his clear mind as he exited the tent, leaving the flap hanging open rather than zipping it back up. He stretched in the lancing sunlight before withdrawing briefly to retrieve his egg. Together they walked down the slope, past the charred campfire, and through the trickling stream to stand by the smooth tree trunk that the lead rope had been tied to before...

His eyes shifted to the spot he had seen the moon eyes glowing. They had been like halos in the darkness yet the dark hollows in each center and swallowed him. It had moved so swiftly and quietly. Vainly he hoped it was passing by, or even better, would stay near this valley but he knew better even though it was only the first Creature he had incountered.

Glancing away from the spot, he checked out the rest of the dip, turning a full three-sixty degrees before turning back to his tent. His stomach rumbled as he pulled one of the horse pack bags apart ungracefully. Littering the contents on the ground he withdrew with one of his few cans of spaghetti and meatballs. Rummaging among the littered contents he found the can opener. Taking the opened can, and the egg, he walked back to the stream and crouched, eating the food with his fingers, content to let the carefree forest chorus keep his nerves calm.

Finished, he chucked the can onto the remains of the fire and twisted back to the stream, washing his hands vigorously while still holding the egg in the nock of his left arm.

Sighing, he stood up and looked across the stream to the slope he had passed down yesterday. Softly he spoke to the egg without taking his eyes away from the slope, "I'm going to have to look for her, aren't I." It wasn't a question, his mind had been made up from the moment his eyes had flickered open in the morning light.

Slowly he worked his way towards the slope, treading lightly, as he followed the trampled grass and shattered sticks. The route took him part way towards where the eyes had been but sharply turned left after a two metres. As he gazed around at the wreckage that Gal had brought in her panic, broken saplings, bleeding and bruised trunks, he couldn't rubbing his right hand against the smooth, cold surface of the stone egg. The cold calmed him a little more, the bird chorus no longer strong enough, as he continued down the track, aware of only one set of foot prints in the dry soil. The trail continued through the forest before breaking out into grassland broken by the occasionally tree. The grass gradually grew higher as he paced along the path of broken stems until it peaked just past his knees. It didn't take long for him to reach the twenty metre mark but just beyond it lay a crumpled heap.

No, no, no, NO! His mind screamed as a flash of memory brought the sight of two crumpled horses into mind. There unnaturally angles cast strange unnatural, monstrous shadows upon the paddock. It can't be happening again.

Ben. The grumbling voice whipped the memory away and left him with the cold, mutilated corpse of Gal. Her red-brown fur stiff with caked blood leaving no inch left untouched. His legs stiff, he took another four steps towards the carcass, unable to comprehend the sight.

His mind whirled with fear again, This can't be possible. A dingo can't do this much damage, there haven't even been any in this area. He refused to admit into wasn't a dingo, that the creature with luminous eyes wasn't even one that should exist. It almost looks like a crocodile or shark mauled her to death, he observed. But no creature is on land is large enough to deliver such big bites.

He reached towards the gaping hole that had once been her left side. What was left of the mare's legs were splayed as if she had died galloping and her bite mark ridden neck ended in a pool of blood. Shakily he extracted a blood-soak grey object that had been embedded in the remains of the horses back leg. As he held it carefully with thumb and finger he realized the curved, pointed object was the monsters tooth. It was roughly the size of his index finger but much wider than his thumb. Realization hit him, It isn't a canine, it's most likely his molar!

The idea was frightening but he rolled the tooth down so he could firmly grip it in his hand. Paying his last respects to his companion, he jogged back to camp and broke it. It didn't take Ben long to pack the tent up but the sun was high by the time he had repacked his essentials into the backpack and heaved it on. He set off slowly, weighed down by all the bags he refused to leave behind and his egg, tucked securely in it's rightful place in the nook of his left arm.

Chapter 9

The fire crackled strongly in the dwindling light of the setting sun. Ben was lying on his unsheltered bedroll a metre from the fire, hidden by knee-high grass and bordered by a bottle-brush bush on one side and the small fire on the other. He had made little progress since loosing Gal to the monster two days ago but he had stubbornly continued on his journey with all his belongings. For the past two days he had crossed out of the bushland onto rolling grasslands bordered by distance highways and residences. As he had done yesterday night, the fire tonight was ringed by wonky three metre circle of upturned soil and was barely wider than forty centimetres itself. It would have been safer to not have a fire at all but the fire was all that kept Bens' paralyzing fear of the night at bay.

How am I ever going to get over this. The words circled sorrowfully around his mind as he stared up at the first stars that night. It's like being in that Silent Hill movie. The day is too quiet but the night is dark and dangerous.

He rolled over with a sigh, leaving the egg in its makeshift grass nest beside the bedroll. Even if he had had the energy to construct the small tent, it would hinder is sight of the fire. He needed to see the fire, it was the only thing he could see at night. Rolling upwards into a sitting position he fumbled with on of the horse bags for two cans of food. One of fruit-salad and the other of beans and sausages. Since he had no other means of carrying his heavy bags, and refused to leave anything behind, the only plan to lighten the load was to eat all the tinned food quickly. While he didn't like eating so much at once he did admit that  the seven of twelve tins he had eaten had dramatically lightened the load.

He didn't mind eating the tinned food at room-temperature, it was far too much hassle to try and cook them only to have the food blacken at the bottom as it had the first four times he had tried. He had been so sure he would get it on the third and fourth time but he hadn't and instead left those experiences written in his journal. As he began to think about his journal he wiped a hand across his smelly cargo pants and leaned back so he could rummage in one of the front pockets of his backpack. Withdrawing quickly he brought a pen and slightly worn journal into view. Deftly he finished his preserved fruits as he quickly wrote out a few sentences on a page dated '24th Jun 2059'.

The journal was closed and placed back into the pack with the faithful pen but the tin was chucked carelessly onto the fire. He watched the fire greedily peel the label off before lying down with his back to the fire and his eyes on his egg. It had steadily become more maroon as the days had passed by but the veins remained as blood red as the day he had found it. He did suspect that a few more had appeared but he was just happy that the colouring was less like a hemorrhage progressing. He let his mind drift to thoughts of happier days and into an uneasy, tense sleep.

BENNN!

The voice shrieked in his head. He was fairly certain now that it was the egg that was making the strange sounds that would drift into his head. From his short experience he knew that when the voice called his name instead of tweeting, chirping, purring or growling, it meant business. He rolled out of bed and drew his hunting knife out of the dirt. He had often hid his knife below a shallow layer of dirt out of paranoia but it wasn't until tonight that fear had driven him to wield it.

He picked up a thick stick from a pile near the fire and quietly lowered it until the end caught fire before raising it above the grass. Knife and wooden torch in hand, he swept the area around him but the light barely travelled a metre from his spot. He cursed, placing the branch onto the fire before rummaging in near the bags for the torch. As he stood once more in the half-crescent moon light he spotted a pair of luminous eyes. He froze. The torch hung uselessly at his side, staring in disbelief and petrified with fear at the monsters eyes.

He barely could think the words, not again, before it leapt at him with frightening speed. His knife arm whipped up, ready to leave its mark as the beast entered the light. His mind watched as the beast entered the light in what looked like slow motion and yet his mind only had time to etch the scene into his memory. The beast was covered in short, dusky blonde-grey fur with deer-like legs that ended in under-sized tiger paws with barb-like claws extended. It had the body of a grey-hound from his perspective but the head resembled a shark but narrow like a dogs. In the gaping maw of this horse-sized beast he spotted two rows of teeth, like the one he had found, on both jaws accompanied by four razor sharp canines.

The beast hurtled toward him, unable to do anything but raise the knife towards this huge Creture, ben stood his ground. Barely a metre away the beast suddenly veered to his right, as if swatted by an invisible hand. He watched, wide-eyed, as the beast flew sideways, tumbling into the grass on impact. He turned to see it powerfully stand up five metres away and snarl at him with a guttural voice. It charged again but was stopped short before it could leap. Instead the beast flipped backwards and landed its' head with an audible crack before the motion pulled the rest of the body over.

Chapter 10

What just HAPPENED! His mind screamed as he continued to stand on the spot. The beast didn't move. He had no idea if it the sides would normally heave to breath because he had not been able to observe it alive properly but he assumed so. Cautiously he approached the hopefully dead thing, barely lifting his feet in the noisy grass. As he stared down at the lifeless creature he noticed a small, whip-like tail but nothing to indicate its sex. Still numb with fear, he was ignorant of all the small voices warning him to stay away. To run.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Ben jolted at the voice, his head flicked around until his hazel eyes rested on a curvy figure barely a metre behind him leaving his body to follow. "I find that Australia is inhabited by some of the unusual creations on Earth." Continued the low, feminine voice.

As Ben gaped at the voluptuous figure, she titled her cat-like, high-cheeked face to the side, waiting for an answer. She barely moved yet held herself with all the dignity of one wearing a formal dress. Instead she wore a black crop-top and matching black pants that flared, with a ripple, just below the knee. As his eyes travelled down he was surprised to her arms blacken into furry, clawed hands and what was visible of her feet looked like cat paws.

Her feathered cat-like tail twitched angry towards the fire, drawing a gasp from Ben. He hadn't come into contact with any human with visible changes and it felt weird to him that he was finally staring at one such person. Her irrated voice snapped his head back up to her red-slitted eyes, "Are we done admiring me yet. I want to get this over with seeing as your obviously brain-dead."

"Excuse me miss," she looked about twenty, "but this is the first time I've seen a Gifted like you." He said sincerely, his mind finally catching up to the present after the last few minutes.

She laughed at him, her voice coming out as a melodic bark, "If by Gifted you mean one of those humans, then no. The specifics off who I am aren't important tonight. I just need to make a proposition to you and the least you can do is focus after I saved your life."

"You mean that was you back there," his voice nearly broke as he vaguely gestured to the creature behind before dropping his arm. "How can you not be a Gifted unless..."

"Unless I'm something other than a Gifted Einstein." She rolled her eyes and shifted her weight, crossing her arms loosely in front of her.

Ben shivered, suddenly wary of this being. "And what would this proposition be?"

A slight small touched the corners of her lips, "I just need a small promise and in exchange  I'll make sure no harm comes to your farm, hell, I'll even house sit for you and make sure it's as good as new when you get back from," she glanced at the egg and then back to him, "where ever you are going. I'll also throw in a small surprise for you that'll help calm you at night."

His neck prickled at how ambiguous this proposition was. A slight Bennn rolled through his head but he let it pass through. Trying to swallow subtly he replied slowly, suddenly very worried about offending her, "How do I know I can trust you."

"That is up to you to decide but I might warn you that, without me, you might not be returning to the farm you love." She smiled thinly flashing a black tongue through pointed teeth.

His blood turned cold at the barely veiled threat. He bit his lower lip before softly repling, "what is this promise."

"That's better isn't it?" Ben felt confused at the remark but she continued before he could speak, "The promise is simply that I'll have your word so that when I come, sometime in the future, you'll do as I ask or the deal is off and I take back my part of the bargain."

"Wait there a second, when did this turn into a deal?" He asked nervously.

She took a step towards him, her tail slowly curled from side to side. "I was also proposing a deal from the start. You must have misinterpreted me but it stands. Do you accept?"

"I..." He trailed off before taking a deep breath. "I accept." A growl emanated through his mind but he pushed it aside despite his sudden queasiness.

She reached out to him with a black paw-hand but stopped as he flinched before she could touch his neck. "Please," she softly spoke to him, still looking him full in the eyes.

He tensed before nodding at her, unable to draw his gaze away from hers. She continued to reach out to him, grasping his neck firmly in her black clawed hand. Delicately she brought her other hand up and lightly traced her index claw from the back of his neck to along his chest bone. As she her claw passed over his grey cotton top the material ripped cleanly as if cut with a pair of scissors. Taking her hand away, she placed it firmly on his neck and released the second hand only to repeat the process again. The cat being slowly lowered her head towards his chest but only broke eye contact at the last minute to kiss the spot where both lines were at there closest.

Her lips tingled against his skin, causing goosebumps to ripple across his body. As her lips lifted from his tingling skin a searing pain flashed through his chest, ending at the base of his neck. He flinched away from her but she held in firmly by the neck until the pain fading away and he could breath easily again.

She felt him relax slightly and released him. "There hun, it wasn't that bad." He gaped at her as she twisted away, tracing her tail over his chest as she walked away with her back to him. Free from her eyes Ben finally blinked as she casually commented, "Beautiful egg by the way, make sure you keep good care of it."

She was gone by the time he opened his eyes.

He blinked again in shock but she did not reappear. Dumb-founded, he slowly dragged his feet over to the branch pile and placed a few choice pieces on the fire. He looked up at the moon, amazed at how bright it was after the recent events, bathing everything to the point he could almost see each blade of grass as if it was sun beaming down upon them.

He glanced down at the two fine scores through his shirt. Cautiously he pulled the neckline outwards to better see what she had done. He gasped at the bold tattoo he hadn't been expecting. Jeez, I thought she had burnt me or clawed a line into me. I was expecting something so... Pretty. He examined the line and realized it was far more than one. There were many smaller lines weaving amongst themselves until the whole tattoo resembled a bundles of vines.

I think my masculinity has just been knocked down a peg though. He thought with a bemused smiled despite everything that has happened. Ben was beyond the point of exhaustion and soon he struggled into bed and pulled his egg in, embracing the softly purring creature inside.

Description
Chapter 5

"Come on Jim, you said it yourself. I need a break from the farm," He coaxed into the receiver although the reply exasperated him. "It'll only be for a week or two and all you have to do is check in and feed the horses. You're daughter will love to see the foals and the boys can ride the older ones, I've got all the gear in my house." Ben waited for the reply, knowing he had won his friend over, "I'll leave the key in the gumboot like I always have and some cash in the tea jar in case the horses need it. Thanks Jim, I owe you one."

Clicking off the receiver he walked lightly over to counter were his third cup of tea waited for him today. As he sipped the lukewarm drink he shivered a little and glanced back at his black egg which waited for him on an overly soft armchair in the small living room. At some point during his second cup of tea he had finally gathered up enough confidence to put the egg down on the armchair so he could think a little more clearly about the preparations that were necessary for his mostly dark journey. Beyond getting to the coast, he very little idea as to were he should be heading or what he would be doing. There was only so much he could carry on horseback, he was already regretting his decision against using the car even though it stood on a twenty meters away from him outside.

Whirling on the spot for a brief moment, Ben made up his mind and paced through the lounge room door to gloomy hallway. The corridor was nearly two meters in width and made up the "backbone of the house" as he liked to think. All the rooms, five in total, branched off from this wooden hallway as well as having a few hidden cupboards tucked neatly beside the sparse furniture. The hallway was one of the strongest memories he had of his ex-wife and, try as he might, he hadn't the heart to remove her once beloved furniture despite having been abandoned in the settlement. They had spent many afternoons shopping around and arguing before buying them and they had spent the few brief years piled with photographs of the young couple and other mementos of their happiness. Now the furniture was piled with memories of everything that had come afterwards but Ben couldn't forget the scene that he had memorized so lovingly every time he had passed through this hall during his marriage.

His long legs took him to the right and past a set of waste high drawers that were overflowing with pictures of his horses but amongst them he knew there was a single unframed, decaying picture of him and Elloise just after getting engaged. He had forgotten exactly where it was amongst the other photos nor did he have any inclination to unsettle the pile for a single picture. Stopping at the right of this set of drawers he opened one of the larger cupboards in the hallway that was piled high with his more emergency-inclined items. He had always made sure to check the items through once a year just incase there was an accident or some disaster that prevented him from reaching the nearby towns of city. Normally the small room collected dust and cobwebs for most the year until he had his  annual lazy month and feasted of the reserve food inside.

Thankgod I didn't decide to skip the top up in January. This could have been more of hassle than I would have wanted. His hands nimbly brushed off a daddy-long-legs web from a couple of bundle packs of noodles. I'm going to need as many light foods as I can get, tins are going to be too much of a hassle so I'm going to need to go into survival mode. He though with a thrill at being able to use his pocket survival guides on everything under the Australian sun.

Shifting through the remainder of the cupboard he withdrew with a hair full of cobwebs and an armful of two minute noodles, powdered substances, the emergency tin of tea, and variety of other 'necessary' items as deemed by his holy survival guides. Carefully navigating through the hallway, more cautious because of the temporary blind patch generally around his upper torso caused by the small mountain of supplies, he finally let them collapse onto the counter, flinching as a few of the noodles cracked against the stone counter.

"Bloody hell," He cursed mildly out of habit. He really didn't care because it would all end up being eaten, crushed or not. "I should really have stocked up on those cooked, shelf noodles, shouldn't I?" He looked towards the egg, barely visible behind the armchairs back, "And why am I talking to you. I can't even confirm that you're an egg anyway, bloody thing."

Sighing, he bent over in a luxurious stretch before retrieving his stone egg and heading out into the rising sun. The morning had nearly all been spent on preparations, that single phone call was mostly the cause of this ritual breaking but he grudgingly knew that it was more than the single phone call that had disturbed his life. For some odd reason he could not fathom why he was stubbornly refusing to blame the weird egg for everything that had happened over the past day. He felt more like a mother than a father at the moment and he didn't even have children!

Ruffling his hair with his free hand, "What has happened to my life?" He had been more grounded than this little more than a day ago, though never completely no-nonsense, and yet he could almost believe that he anything was possibly in this upside-down world. I doubt I'm the only one who feels this way, what with the Gifted and Creatures running around like something out of a movie.

He briskly walked to the fence, forgetting his loyal green gumboots on the porch, and continued walking along the perimeter. He had remembered his gumboots with the first step into the still-moist grass and powdery soil but decided against retreating back to the boots. He wanted to spend his morning in bare feet, he didn't know when he would be able to return to his beloved farm that was the most worrying thing about this whole journey. He had only the starting date but when and how he would return was a complete mystery to him. Some how he knew that could never return, perhaps it had been because of the half-forgotten dream into which he had slipped during the night with the egg.

Please don't be true. My whole life has been this farm and these horses, I don't want any of this to change. As is called, a two-toned brown mare paced up to the fence with a welcome neigh. Ben reached out and soothed himself, forgetting his worries briefly as he focused all his attention on scratching the strong neck and in return was graced with a gentle nip and soft tongue. He withdrew and continued around the fence, greeting each herd member in turn. By the time he had made a full circle around the two joined paddocks  the horses had satiated their attention, some more than others, and were peacefully grazing once more. He watched from the top fence as the two foals began to play, kicking up the red soil and bouncing through the yellowing grass.

Turning away, he unconsciously rubbed the egg on his way back inside, soothing himself with the cool touch of the smooth surface. The exhausting day was spent in much the same manner as the morning. By the time he finally could recline back in the path so he could literally clear away the cobwebs, his proper backpack and horse bags along with riding gear, lay clean and ready by the front door. He had contemplated leaving after a sleep in but something compelled him to leave before the dawn.

If I've learnt anything, just go with it. It's probably for the best.

Chapter 6

"Come on girl, just a little further Gal," The tanned man coaxed his weary horse down into the dip nestled between the two hills. As soon as the mare paused by the shallow stream for a well earned drink the man dismounted and gave his faithful friend a hearty rub down with a handful of winter-dried grass. The mare flicked an ear towards him but continued on drinking from the stream, the froth still noticeable at the corners of her mouth where the bit emerged. He sighed with a glance at the sinking sun and retrieved the already worn lead rope and halter. Swiftly he exchanged this less obtrusive gear with the riding tack and tied the lead rope to a nearby gum tree.

Pacing out his cramped legs, he explored this welcome hollow for any surprises. I've already been seen traces of two different Creatures this week without constantly feeling like I'm being stalked. If only that was a movie thing. He had spent many nights in the open or at the top of hills. He knew it was a matter of time before he had to break cover and begin passing through populated areas. This area wasn't what his tanned mother had once described to him. Gone where the large areas of bush and instead there were narrow strips of forest border by houses and roads. He had covered quite a distance but it paled beside what he should have made. Gal had never been bred or trained for cross country riding and it was even more important that she rested consistently.

Maybe in a months time I'll be able to go faster once she has been hardened for this type of riding but now is not the time. Besides, I wouldn't be making much more time seeing as I need to start setting up camp before sunset. Wouldn't want a bunyip to catch me unawares. He smiled at the thought even as his stomach quailed at an imaginary scene from the dreamtime stories. He hadn't had any news since he had started the trip besides the outdated newspaper he had found near the outer reaches of this stretch of bush. It hadn't told him anything new, just the same old headlines about various new Creatures being discovered in other continents. Perhaps Australia just wasn't as curious to see just how many dreamtime stories were real.

Busily recounting his favourite dreamtime stories, most of which where about how the various Australian animals had come to be, he briefly scoured a ten metre circle around the rough spot where he would set up camp. Happy that had memorized enough of the perimeter and content, but still wary, that nothing lay waiting for him within the invisible boundary Ben walked eagerly back to Gal and retrieved his egg from one of the saddle bags still on the horse. Carefully he examined the egg for scratches or dents but he was less worried after he had stupidly dropped the egg onto rocks during a rainstorm five days ago.

He had jumped off Gal in a hurry, chasing after the egg and wincing at every rock it struck on it's way down the hill. Gal had walked calmly after him, weary from the two days of hard riding, and stared at him collect the egg at the bottom of the hill, cursing to himself as he scoured the egg for signs of damage. There had been no visible signs of damage but Ben hadn't completely crossed off the idea that damage had been done to the embryo inside, if there even was one.

The surface was as unblemished as the first day he had found it but, as he turned it in the sinking suns' light, the ebony colour seemed tinted red. Lowering it so that his shadow lay across the egg he looked over, positive that it was tinted red and not just the red sheen he had seen before. Perhaps the thing is alive and this is part of its development. He hoped but it seemed more like it was hemorrhaging. He wasn't concerned about this parental feeling he had over this strange object, Ben had just accepted it after three days of travel because it was harder to fight this abnormal emotion than it was to relish it.

Turning back to his mare, he hefted his backpack of the saddle bags and leant it against the nearest tree, an old smooth-bark gum tree. I really should keep carry that bag on my own back but it's been so nice on my own back. Besides, it's only been two days. He thought guilty, pulling out the ever-ready towel from his packed mountaineering backpack. It wasn't a huge version like you normally see but it still could carry a load.

Standing up he took a closer look at his surroundings. The dip in the hills was only a few metres below the level of smallest hills tip and was mostly filled with rocks and scrubs. The  trees were less numerous in this dip but they were larger than those on the surrounding hills, rising up to meet the tallest tree in the canopy. Turning a full circle which took in the narrow, ankle-deep stream that ran perpendicular to the way he had entered he spotted an idea location amidst two large rocks on the slope of the other hill.

Taking a hop-step over the stream, he walked up the slope to survey the chosen site. The land was flat enough to support a tent and, kicking a few offending rocks away, clear of debris so that he wouldn't end up waking up with a indentation in his side again. Just to be on the safe side, he checked out the two large rocks, the biggest one was almost his height in length, but neither had any noticeable holes which might hide a beastie or two. It might be getting towards winter but he wasn't going to take any chances with the snakes, let alone Creatures.

Confidently Ben loosely rolled the towel into a sausage and laid it on the smaller rock in a a tight circle. The towel circle was nestled against the larger rock which nearly boarded two sides of this particular position. Carefully he untucked the foot-high egg and gently wedged it into the rough nest, wobbling it a few times before withdrawing. From the eggs new position, facing towards the stream, he would be able to keep a close eye on it will building his small camp.

Chapter 7

He went about his business swiftly but accurately. Growing up in a rural town meant he had had plenty of previous experience as a kid in making camp. Back then it had been for fun, the necessity self-imposed, but now he needed to build camp out of survival. True he had picked to go on this trip but he longer felt he had the will to turn back.

It's like something is pulling me forward. I...
He paused, half finished his thought and tent, as he felt a tingle at the back of his neck. Slowly he turned around, scanning every millimeter of the clearing but barely a leaf moved in the sunset bathed clearing. He scowled at the a innocent bush before bending down to pull the pole into the little elastic resting place. He felt the tingle again but it was only the wind brushing the clearing and sending the leaves into a quiet chorus. He rubbed the sweat from the back of his neck before putting his free hands into action again.

Maybe it's my imagination, he dragged the horse bags that he had removed a few minuets ago from the horse. Nothing can "pull" me to it can they? Not over this distance anyway. He added after a seconds hesitation.

The prickling sensation returned again, stronger than the breeze he had felt earlier. He whipped around, dropping his bed roll at the entrance to the tent and scanned the briskly darkening dip. The shadow of the hill he had just crossed just touched his tent, a universal warning.

"God dammit!" He cursed, stumbling over a rock on his rush to his egg, all thoughts focused on getting it inside the near-complete tent. His nerves were hard-wired tonight, more so than they had been over the past days. Never had he felt so watched and his neck would not stop prickling.

Nursing his egg as if it had been the one to stub its' toe, he wrapped the towel around it as best he could in the crook of his arm. Carefully and much slower, unsure he would be able to find the black egg in the dusk shadows, he brought it over to the tent and placed it securely in the dead center, arranging the towel into a nest again. Once it was done, all the urgency returned and he fumbled for his matches and kindling. The fire was built swiftly and rather messily next to the stream, a mere two metres from the tent but safely surrounded by dirt, sand and a ring of hand-placed rocks.

With the fire blazing brightly as the last of the sun passed below the horizon he could relax slightly but he would never be completely secure until the sun returned to the southern hemisphere again. Again his neck prickled but he ignored it this time. He still had to deal with his mare before dinner.

Slowly he picked his way to the tree her rope was still tied to. The trees rustled again but there was no way he would be able to see beyond the glow of the fire and his senses could not be relied upon for help. All he could do was prey it was the wind. As he reached out his fingers brushed the slightly rough surface of the gum. He fliched slightly, his fear growing with the every minute. Following the trunk downwards he found the rope and gripped it tightly with his hand, with the other he followed the twisted rope around to the knot and fumbled with the knot.

Freed, he started to reel in the rope silently. The silence in the gully unnerved him. Remember Ben. If Gal isn't worried then you should-

BEN!

He flinched towards the fire, pulling a muscle in his neck as his head whipped towards the tent. In that same moment the shrill voice had pierced his head the rope pulled out of his hands and he stumbled forwards. The rope flicked out of his, burning a fine path across both, as Gal neighed ahead of him, her voice pitching higher as he heard her begin to canter to his left. Looking up into the darkness and pair of luminous grey eyes caught his but were lost as the thing charged after the horse in a cat-like silence.

Bennn

The voice sounded through his skull in a deeper rumble than before, breaking him out of his stupor. Slowly he backed towards the stream, slipping slightly on the mossy pebbles but he barely felt the cold water as it seeped through the elastic in his leather boots. As he felt the warmth of the fire spread across his back he finally tore his eyes aware from the gaping darkness. He could barely think, fear of those eyes and deafening, blinding darkness, had numbed his mind and all that remained was an urge to protect the egg.

His head whipped sharply to his left as another sharp, abrupt horse scream sounded less than twenty metres to his left. He stumbled again as he legs continued drawing his closer to the tent. A pace away from the tent he took a deep shaky breath in. He had been hyperventilating unconsciously and now his mind was numb and light headed. Giddily he wondered what good his mind would be even if he could think straight. He did not doubt that those eyes would have no trouble picking him off.

Pushing through the already open zip door, he tumbled into the tent, aware that his bags still lay outside. He crawled back to the entrance and pulled his bed roll in and wrapped the stiff fabric around him before tucking his egg in with him. His shock over took the fear as he sat there.

Chapter 8

A shrill screech split the air followed by a return screech that rumbled into a squawk. Ben abruptly heaved upwards, his arms tingled as the feeling returned and he unwound them from around his stone egg. The chorus of birds continued above him, soothing his nerves as he glanced around the tent as the light left a thick dapple pattern on the tent. He slowly got up, afraid that this strange morning peace could be shattered with a single sound.

When did I fall asleep? How did I fall asleep? The thoughts swirled through his clear mind as he exited the tent, leaving the flap hanging open rather than zipping it back up. He stretched in the lancing sunlight before withdrawing briefly to retrieve his egg. Together they walked down the slope, past the charred campfire, and through the trickling stream to stand by the smooth tree trunk that the lead rope had been tied to before...

His eyes shifted to the spot he had seen the moon eyes glowing. They had been like halos in the darkness yet the dark hollows in each center and swallowed him. It had moved so swiftly and quietly. Vainly he hoped it was passing by, or even better, would stay near this valley but he knew better even though it was only the first Creature he had incountered.

Glancing away from the spot, he checked out the rest of the dip, turning a full three-sixty degrees before turning back to his tent. His stomach rumbled as he pulled one of the horse pack bags apart ungracefully. Littering the contents on the ground he withdrew with one of his few cans of spaghetti and meatballs. Rummaging among the littered contents he found the can opener. Taking the opened can, and the egg, he walked back to the stream and crouched, eating the food with his fingers, content to let the carefree forest chorus keep his nerves calm.

Finished, he chucked the can onto the remains of the fire and twisted back to the stream, washing his hands vigorously while still holding the egg in the nock of his left arm.

Sighing, he stood up and looked across the stream to the slope he had passed down yesterday. Softly he spoke to the egg without taking his eyes away from the slope, "I'm going to have to look for her, aren't I." It wasn't a question, his mind had been made up from the moment his eyes had flickered open in the morning light.

Slowly he worked his way towards the slope, treading lightly, as he followed the trampled grass and shattered sticks. The route took him part way towards where the eyes had been but sharply turned left after a two metres. As he gazed around at the wreckage that Gal had brought in her panic, broken saplings, bleeding and bruised trunks, he couldn't rubbing his right hand against the smooth, cold surface of the stone egg. The cold calmed him a little more, the bird chorus no longer strong enough, as he continued down the track, aware of only one set of foot prints in the dry soil. The trail continued through the forest before breaking out into grassland broken by the occasionally tree. The grass gradually grew higher as he paced along the path of broken stems until it peaked just past his knees. It didn't take long for him to reach the twenty metre mark but just beyond it lay a crumpled heap.

No, no, no, NO! His mind screamed as a flash of memory brought the sight of two crumpled horses into mind. There unnaturally angles cast strange unnatural, monstrous shadows upon the paddock. It can't be happening again.

Ben. The grumbling voice whipped the memory away and left him with the cold, mutilated corpse of Gal. Her red-brown fur stiff with caked blood leaving no inch left untouched. His legs stiff, he took another four steps towards the carcass, unable to comprehend the sight.

His mind whirled with fear again, This can't be possible. A dingo can't do this much damage, there haven't even been any in this area. He refused to admit into wasn't a dingo, that the creature with luminous eyes wasn't even one that should exist. It almost looks like a crocodile or shark mauled her to death, he observed. But no creature is on land is large enough to deliver such big bites.

He reached towards the gaping hole that had once been her left side. What was left of the mare's legs were splayed as if she had died galloping and her bite mark ridden neck ended in a pool of blood. Shakily he extracted a blood-soak grey object that had been embedded in the remains of the horses back leg. As he held it carefully with thumb and finger he realized the curved, pointed object was the monsters tooth. It was roughly the size of his index finger but much wider than his thumb. Realization hit him, It isn't a canine, it's most likely his molar!

The idea was frightening but he rolled the tooth down so he could firmly grip it in his hand. Paying his last respects to his companion, he jogged back to camp and broke it. It didn't take Ben long to pack the tent up but the sun was high by the time he had repacked his essentials into the backpack and heaved it on. He set off slowly, weighed down by all the bags he refused to leave behind and his egg, tucked securely in it's rightful place in the nook of his left arm.

Chapter 9

The fire crackled strongly in the dwindling light of the setting sun. Ben was lying on his unsheltered bedroll a metre from the fire, hidden by knee-high grass and bordered by a bottle-brush bush on one side and the small fire on the other. He had made little progress since loosing Gal to the monster two days ago but he had stubbornly continued on his journey with all his belongings. For the past two days he had crossed out of the bushland onto rolling grasslands bordered by distance highways and residences. As he had done yesterday night, the fire tonight was ringed by wonky three metre circle of upturned soil and was barely wider than forty centimetres itself. It would have been safer to not have a fire at all but the fire was all that kept Bens' paralyzing fear of the night at bay.

How am I ever going to get over this. The words circled sorrowfully around his mind as he stared up at the first stars that night. It's like being in that Silent Hill movie. The day is too quiet but the night is dark and dangerous.

He rolled over with a sigh, leaving the egg in its makeshift grass nest beside the bedroll. Even if he had had the energy to construct the small tent, it would hinder is sight of the fire. He needed to see the fire, it was the only thing he could see at night. Rolling upwards into a sitting position he fumbled with on of the horse bags for two cans of food. One of fruit-salad and the other of beans and sausages. Since he had no other means of carrying his heavy bags, and refused to leave anything behind, the only plan to lighten the load was to eat all the tinned food quickly. While he didn't like eating so much at once he did admit that  the seven of twelve tins he had eaten had dramatically lightened the load.

He didn't mind eating the tinned food at room-temperature, it was far too much hassle to try and cook them only to have the food blacken at the bottom as it had the first four times he had tried. He had been so sure he would get it on the third and fourth time but he hadn't and instead left those experiences written in his journal. As he began to think about his journal he wiped a hand across his smelly cargo pants and leaned back so he could rummage in one of the front pockets of his backpack. Withdrawing quickly he brought a pen and slightly worn journal into view. Deftly he finished his preserved fruits as he quickly wrote out a few sentences on a page dated '24th Jun 2059'.

The journal was closed and placed back into the pack with the faithful pen but the tin was chucked carelessly onto the fire. He watched the fire greedily peel the label off before lying down with his back to the fire and his eyes on his egg. It had steadily become more maroon as the days had passed by but the veins remained as blood red as the day he had found it. He did suspect that a few more had appeared but he was just happy that the colouring was less like a hemorrhage progressing. He let his mind drift to thoughts of happier days and into an uneasy, tense sleep.

BENNN!

The voice shrieked in his head. He was fairly certain now that it was the egg that was making the strange sounds that would drift into his head. From his short experience he knew that when the voice called his name instead of tweeting, chirping, purring or growling, it meant business. He rolled out of bed and drew his hunting knife out of the dirt. He had often hid his knife below a shallow layer of dirt out of paranoia but it wasn't until tonight that fear had driven him to wield it.

He picked up a thick stick from a pile near the fire and quietly lowered it until the end caught fire before raising it above the grass. Knife and wooden torch in hand, he swept the area around him but the light barely travelled a metre from his spot. He cursed, placing the branch onto the fire before rummaging in near the bags for the torch. As he stood once more in the half-crescent moon light he spotted a pair of luminous eyes. He froze. The torch hung uselessly at his side, staring in disbelief and petrified with fear at the monsters eyes.

He barely could think the words, not again, before it leapt at him with frightening speed. His knife arm whipped up, ready to leave its mark as the beast entered the light. His mind watched as the beast entered the light in what looked like slow motion and yet his mind only had time to etch the scene into his memory. The beast was covered in short, dusky blonde-grey fur with deer-like legs that ended in under-sized tiger paws with barb-like claws extended. It had the body of a grey-hound from his perspective but the head resembled a shark but narrow like a dogs. In the gaping maw of this horse-sized beast he spotted two rows of teeth, like the one he had found, on both jaws accompanied by four razor sharp canines.

The beast hurtled toward him, unable to do anything but raise the knife towards this huge Creture, ben stood his ground. Barely a metre away the beast suddenly veered to his right, as if swatted by an invisible hand. He watched, wide-eyed, as the beast flew sideways, tumbling into the grass on impact. He turned to see it powerfully stand up five metres away and snarl at him with a guttural voice. It charged again but was stopped short before it could leap. Instead the beast flipped backwards and landed its' head with an audible crack before the motion pulled the rest of the body over.

Chapter 10

What just HAPPENED! His mind screamed as he continued to stand on the spot. The beast didn't move. He had no idea if it the sides would normally heave to breath because he had not been able to observe it alive properly but he assumed so. Cautiously he approached the hopefully dead thing, barely lifting his feet in the noisy grass. As he stared down at the lifeless creature he noticed a small, whip-like tail but nothing to indicate its sex. Still numb with fear, he was ignorant of all the small voices warning him to stay away. To run.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Ben jolted at the voice, his head flicked around until his hazel eyes rested on a curvy figure barely a metre behind him leaving his body to follow. "I find that Australia is inhabited by some of the unusual creations on Earth." Continued the low, feminine voice.

As Ben gaped at the voluptuous figure, she titled her cat-like, high-cheeked face to the side, waiting for an answer. She barely moved yet held herself with all the dignity of one wearing a formal dress. Instead she wore a black crop-top and matching black pants that flared, with a ripple, just below the knee. As his eyes travelled down he was surprised to her arms blacken into furry, clawed hands and what was visible of her feet looked like cat paws.

Her feathered cat-like tail twitched angry towards the fire, drawing a gasp from Ben. He hadn't come into contact with any human with visible changes and it felt weird to him that he was finally staring at one such person. Her irrated voice snapped his head back up to her red-slitted eyes, "Are we done admiring me yet. I want to get this over with seeing as your obviously brain-dead."

"Excuse me miss," she looked about twenty, "but this is the first time I've seen a Gifted like you." He said sincerely, his mind finally catching up to the present after the last few minutes.

She laughed at him, her voice coming out as a melodic bark, "If by Gifted you mean one of those humans, then no. The specifics off who I am aren't important tonight. I just need to make a proposition to you and the least you can do is focus after I saved your life."

"You mean that was you back there," his voice nearly broke as he vaguely gestured to the creature behind before dropping his arm. "How can you not be a Gifted unless..."

"Unless I'm something other than a Gifted Einstein." She rolled her eyes and shifted her weight, crossing her arms loosely in front of her.

Ben shivered, suddenly wary of this being. "And what would this proposition be?"

A slight small touched the corners of her lips, "I just need a small promise and in exchange  I'll make sure no harm comes to your farm, hell, I'll even house sit for you and make sure it's as good as new when you get back from," she glanced at the egg and then back to him, "where ever you are going. I'll also throw in a small surprise for you that'll help calm you at night."

His neck prickled at how ambiguous this proposition was. A slight Bennn rolled through his head but he let it pass through. Trying to swallow subtly he replied slowly, suddenly very worried about offending her, "How do I know I can trust you."

"That is up to you to decide but I might warn you that, without me, you might not be returning to the farm you love." She smiled thinly flashing a black tongue through pointed teeth.

His blood turned cold at the barely veiled threat. He bit his lower lip before softly repling, "what is this promise."

"That's better isn't it?" Ben felt confused at the remark but she continued before he could speak, "The promise is simply that I'll have your word so that when I come, sometime in the future, you'll do as I ask or the deal is off and I take back my part of the bargain."

"Wait there a second, when did this turn into a deal?" He asked nervously.

She took a step towards him, her tail slowly curled from side to side. "I was also proposing a deal from the start. You must have misinterpreted me but it stands. Do you accept?"

"I..." He trailed off before taking a deep breath. "I accept." A growl emanated through his mind but he pushed it aside despite his sudden queasiness.

She reached out to him with a black paw-hand but stopped as he flinched before she could touch his neck. "Please," she softly spoke to him, still looking him full in the eyes.

He tensed before nodding at her, unable to draw his gaze away from hers. She continued to reach out to him, grasping his neck firmly in her black clawed hand. Delicately she brought her other hand up and lightly traced her index claw from the back of his neck to along his chest bone. As she her claw passed over his grey cotton top the material ripped cleanly as if cut with a pair of scissors. Taking her hand away, she placed it firmly on his neck and released the second hand only to repeat the process again. The cat being slowly lowered her head towards his chest but only broke eye contact at the last minute to kiss the spot where both lines were at there closest.

Her lips tingled against his skin, causing goosebumps to ripple across his body. As her lips lifted from his tingling skin a searing pain flashed through his chest, ending at the base of his neck. He flinched away from her but she held in firmly by the neck until the pain fading away and he could breath easily again.

She felt him relax slightly and released him. "There hun, it wasn't that bad." He gaped at her as she twisted away, tracing her tail over his chest as she walked away with her back to him. Free from her eyes Ben finally blinked as she casually commented, "Beautiful egg by the way, make sure you keep good care of it."

She was gone by the time he opened his eyes.

He blinked again in shock but she did not reappear. Dumb-founded, he slowly dragged his feet over to the branch pile and placed a few choice pieces on the fire. He looked up at the moon, amazed at how bright it was after the recent events, bathing everything to the point he could almost see each blade of grass as if it was sun beaming down upon them.

He glanced down at the two fine scores through his shirt. Cautiously he pulled the neckline outwards to better see what she had done. He gasped at the bold tattoo he hadn't been expecting. Jeez, I thought she had burnt me or clawed a line into me. I was expecting something so... Pretty. He examined the line and realized it was far more than one. There were many smaller lines weaving amongst themselves until the whole tattoo resembled a bundles of vines.

I think my masculinity has just been knocked down a peg though. He thought with a bemused smiled despite everything that has happened. Ben was beyond the point of exhaustion and soon he struggled into bed and pulled his egg in, embracing the softly purring creature inside.