English Coursework Story

[343 Guilty Spark]

I wrote this story for an English coursework assignment. I got good marks on it and wanted to see what other people thought about it……………

Its quite long but bare with me.

The night was warm and humid, the families in the small white washed houses locked their doors and shutters ready for a nights sleep .

The goats were locked up in their chain link fenced pen; bleating to each other while they ate their feed.

A man sat on a chair outside his home; he was sleeping hunched over smoking a cigarette whose ash hung precariously. His rifle lay propped up against the wall, loaded and ready to fire .

The street lamps were casting a yellow glow on the houses, surrounded by insects that were attracted to light.

This was a normal night in a small Puerto Rican village, except for the glowing re eyes peering from the darkness.

The next day the sun rose, blood red over the tree line. A child opened the locked door of her home and stepped out onto the dirt road with a bucket of goat feed. As she rounded the corner of the back of her house a sickening sight met her eyes. All of her family’s goats lay dead on the ground. The girl crept closer for better look and was shocked to see two puncture marks on each goats neck. Not a drop of blood had been spilled.

As she saw this she remembered the stories her mother had told her. She turned and ran back to her.

“El Chupacabra, el Chupacabra!” She screamed tears running down her face.

That night her farther gathered the villages men. They had all brought some kind of weapon and their dogs.

The local authority had told everyone the mutilations were made by a stray dog. But no one believed this theory. Everyone had heard of el Chupacabra, they had used it as a thing to scare children, and tried to shun the truth. Now someone was doing something about it. Something that they thought was a permanent solution.

The hunting party set out at dusk; this was when all of the attacks began. The group’s families stood looking out of doors or windows wondering what would happen during the night.

“Why do you have to go?” Wept a young women cradling a baby in her arms.

“We have lost our livelihood to many times, we have to solve this our problems now.” The man turned and walked to the group rifle slung over his shoulder and his dog walking obediently at his heel.

The group moved of together into the undergrowth of the forest. The leaders using machetes to slash through the saplings and overhanging vines that blocked their paths.

As they walked further into the forest the younger members of the group began to jump at every crack of a twig or call of a bird. But something was spooking the dogs. These were experienced hunting dogs. What could worry them?

“ Carlos, send your dog ahead it’s the most experienced tracker.” The owner of the dead goats whispered, he was nominated leader of this hunting group.

The man let his dog of its leash and sent it into the darkness. The men lit cigarettes as they waited for the dog to return when a frenzied baying filled the air. Fifteen pinpoints of light were extinguished in an instant. The group raised their rifles and the dogs cowered from the noise.

“ Leave the dogs.” The leader said. “Tie them to the trees.”

The men turned on their torches and crept on as the dogs huddled together, whimpering.

The lead man signalled the others to turn off their torches as they approached a clearing. As they emerged they saw a strange silhouette hunched towards the ground . A twig snapped, it seemed the forest was holding its breath.

The shadows head shot up its blood red eyes gleaming in the moonlight. It raised quills up on its back and they began to quiver as if in delight and it leapt into the trees, instantly blending in like a chameleon.

That was when the men saw what the thing was hunched over. It was the dog they had sent out into before them. Its lifeless eyes were glazed over and they shone in the moonlight.

Barks flooded the claustrophobic silence. The group span round to where they had left the dogs and ran towards the racket.

When they reached them all off them had been killed. Two puncture wounds on each of their necks.

Most of the men ran screaming into the forest in random directions. Each of their screams were abruptly

Cut off as they got further away.

Suddenly a screech filled their hearts with fear. A shadow pounced down from the darkness and grasped a man by his shoulders, inch long claws dug into his chest. Everyone shot upwards as the shadow jumped back into the canopy. Only fragments of leaves came down; no trace of monster or man.

The younger men ran into the forest shooting at every shadow and shouting for each other. One at a time they were silenced.

But the older, more experienced men kept and ran as a group. A scream rang out from the back of the group as a man was pounced upon with viscous claws.

For the rest of the night gunshots and screams echoed around the forest. The people in the nearby village barricaded their doors. To stop whatever evil lurked outside.

The next morning no birds sang. The whole forest was silent, nothing, not even the insects flew. But from the forest crawled a ma. His clothes tattered and blood dripped from his mouth.

The man lived long enough to tell the story of the night before. After that no one went into the forest an night, everyone locked their windows and doors to keep out el Chupacabra. The Goat Sucker.

So what do you think. I'm looking for constructive criticism. Oh yeah and copyright.

[343 Guilty Spark]

Its not that bad.