Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-33488654-20180822020522/@comment-26444017-20180822053432

Alright, my man. Here's what I threw together. This should give you a really solid starting point, but it's not perfect by itself. It could still use a little more, and that's going to be at your discretion.

In the small town of West Rutland, local legends reign supreme. Myths of monsters, tales of terror, and historical harbingers are part of the local culture. When asked, each and every resident will unabashedly say that the legends are all true, and they are just a part of the long history of the town. Between the Spanish settlers, the introduction of christian ideals, and the mixing pot of cultures that have come and gone, the tales are numerous and varied, and often overlapping. Some have adapted over time, while other have stood strong.

In late 2007, Cooper first went missing from the shelter. The white Labrador retriever was let out to do his business, and wandered off so fast the personnel were none the wiser. The dog followed the sound of traffic, making his way to the nearby freeway, the busiest road in town. Making his way into the multi-lane road resulted as one would have expected. The collision knocked the poor hound over the guard rail, and into the mud below.

However, the driver that hit Cooper could not find the dog when looking over the side. No one saw the dog for months after. He finally resurfaced in April of the following year. Oliver Martinez, the chief of police, encountered the dog while on his usual route. Cooper had, once again, wandered into the road. The sky was severely overcast, and the lights along the highway had gone out. Martinez repeated the mistake that the dog had endured those long months ago. Cooper’s body flopped along the highway as the cruiser screeched to a halt. Martinez got out, concerned for the dog’s life.

But what he found was a far cry from a cuddly animal. Cooper’s fur was stained and matted with mud, patches of it missing. He was dreadfully skinny, ribs pressing outward, threatening to pierce the skin. His paws were practically nonexistent, overtaken by massive claws that had deformed and split the skin. His teeth were elongated to resemble rows of needles, too lengthy to contain. Each one was stained yellow, flecked with black, and riddled with bits of old meat. The eyes of the hound were swollen black orbs, lifeless.

The beast rushed Martinez, snarling and snapping its mouth of needles. Martinez brought up his gun, raising his flashlight to ensure a clean shot. As the light met the creature, white mist began rolling off of its form. Pieces of skin started bubbling and boiling, bursting open into steam. Cooper turned away in pain, leaping over the barrier and into the underpass below.

The beast had escaped, but it was not forgotten. Legends of the hound still spread through West Rutland. The citizens have done their best to explain the creature. Most accept that it was possessed by an otherworldly monster, one which loathes light and delights in slaughter. Why it chose Cooper is unknown, though some suspect that the possessor is quadrupedal, or that it has a predilection for canines. One thing that all of the legend agree on, though, is that the creature is very real, and it’s still hunting to this day.