Welcome to installment #4 of the Chasing Shadows – Making Amends series. For more information or to read the previous scene, head to this page.

Chapter 1

Scene 4

A trickle of light crept up Kecil’s legs and teased her awake. Slowly the events of the prior night washed over her like a fragmented nightmare. Her chest clenched tight as hollowness consumed her and blotted out any brightness the sun offered. She fought for every agonizing breath, wanting the Great Spirt to claim her and send her into the comforting arms of her mother.

Despite her wishes, life continued with Kecil in it, but eventually the aching grip in her chest eased. She rolled to her back and concentrated on the thick canopy of leaves, let the ambience of the forest quiet her tormented soul.

Before long, she noticed a peculiar smell, slightly sweet and familiar but with a hint of decay. Kecil rose to her feet and brushed away the dirt caked on her stinging shoulder—the least of her pain—and traced the scent to a Goliath of a tree. She circled the trunk and found a dead binturong laying in the dirt, its back twisted abnormally.

She stepped closer.

“Rwarrrr.”

Kecil jumped back and stumbled to the ground. Her heart thudded against her ribcage as she scrambled backward, but her heels found no traction and scraped ineffectively against the dirt.

From behind the corpse, a miniature whiskered face appeared and hissed—a baby binturong no larger than a newborn wehr-tiger cub.

Kecil sat frozen, waiting for her body to catch up with her mind and recognized the threat as minimal. She forced her heart and breathing to slow, then took a deep breath and returned with cautious steps, her hand outstretched and shaking.

The civet’s fur bristled. Hisses turned to growls as its thin black lips pulled back revealing tiny fanged teeth.

“It’s okay. I’m alone too.” Only inches away, she jerked back as the binturong snapped at her fingers. She tackled the cub, clamping its mouth shut with one hand while holding it tight to her body.

The baby raked and thrashed for freedom, scratching her stomach and arms, but in the end the small cub’s size was no match for her. Defeated, its struggles slowed though its body remained tense.

“That’s better,” Kecil cooed and released its muzzle, letting her hand slide over its head.

The little civet turned to sneak in a bite but missed. Eyes wide, teeth bared, the cub snarled as she petted. Eventually it quieted, turning its head into the caresses.

“I’ll take care of you now,” she said.

“Find him! He couldn’t have gone far.” Gemuk’s voice called out.

Kecil scanned the area and located the small handful of adult males in her clan combing the area—all were accounted for, except her father. If he’d been here keeping vigilance over his territory, her mother would be here today… alive and waiting in the hut. Kecil’s teeth ached as she clenched them. Why did he leave us unprotected?

“What are you doing out here?”

Kecil spun around to face the speaker—Kasut. She craned her neck to look at the giant of a wehr-tiger, tall like her father, like all of the males in the clan.

His eyes flicked to the binturong in her hands. “Go back to the village. It’s not safe.”

“Did you find him?” Gemuk approached, breathing heavily through his mouth. He focused on her, and his eyes shifted to the birthmark which encompassed her entire shoulder. “Get that runt out of here. She’s nothing but trouble… like her mother.”

Kecil’s eyes smarted, and she fought to swallow the lump welling in her throat.

“The killer escaped.” Kasut nodded toward the village. “Get out of here.”

Kecil edged by the two males and ran. Leaving behind the scrutiny of Gemuk, she sought the safety of the village, her prize in hand.

Welcome to installment #2 of the Chasing Shadows – Making Amends series. For more information or to read the previous scene, head to this page.

Chapter 1

Scene 2

Consciousness filtered into the void, creating a muddled awareness, and with it… pain. Excruciating pain—a throbbing ache in Mujur’s skull which pulsated with every heart beat. He fought the grogginess, even as the pounding in his head persisted.

“Wake him.”

The gruff voice seeped through Mujur’s clouded mind. Cold liquid doused his face and yanked him out of his fogged existence, choking him as it filled his nose and mouth. Through gasps, he lifted his leaden hand to wipe away the moisture. His arm jerked to a stop, captured by the bindings cutting into his wrist. With heavy lids, he struggled to blink the fluid out of his eyes and make sense of the shadows.

“Wake up.”

The sting of a slap across his face brought him fully alert. The world around him slowly solidified in his right eye, though the vision in his left remained a blur, the swollen lid only allowing him to squint. Strapped to a cold slab of rock, he took in his surroundings. Outside the familiar wehr-tiger village, a multitude of faces looked upon him, each twisted in an expression of disgust, hatred, or fear.

“Wha?” His thick tongue failed to function correctly, and the words stuck in his dry throat. He licked his puffy lips which were distended to the point of bursting and swallowed, moistening his mouth with the little wetness he could scrounge. “What’s happening?”

Gemuk, the corpulent man who’d captured him planted a beefy palm near Mujur’s head and leaned close. His thick brow protruded over dull orange eyes which mocked, while his lips lifted in a disdainful smirk. He grabbed a fistful of Mujur’s hair and wrenched it back.

Shards of pain pricked Mujur’s scalp, replacing the previous ache with the intensity. He fought to stifle a moan through clenched teeth, as Gemuk’s breath wafted over him like rotted meat.

“You thought you’d get away with it?” Spittle flew as Gemuk spoke each word.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Trepidation filled Mujur as the last moments of the wehr-tigress’ life flickered before him. She too had been fearful.

Mujur increased his struggles. “Free me.”

Gemuk bent closer, filling Mujur’s ear with hot, moist air as he exhaled. “You think anyone believes you?” He straightened and sent a backhand flying across Mujur’s throbbing face.

Nausea threatened to overcome Mujur as pain reverberated through his skull.

Gemuk glared and took a few steps back. “Kasut, cane him.”

“Why? I didn’t do anything.” Mujur tugged at the straps holding him, uncaring of the fibers which rubbed his wrists raw. “Let me go.”

The crowd drew away as another male entered the clearing, slapping a thick rattan cane across the palm of his hand. Dark low-lights streaked his reddish-brown mop of hair in a disorganized pattern.

Though Mujur had never put a name to the wehr-tiger, he recognized the male immediately—one of Gemuk’s underlings.

Mujur increased his struggles, cringing as the rough rope bit into his ankles. “Wait! Don’t do this. Please!”

Kasut shook his head, his expression one of disappointment and regret. “Your sins will be a brand on you into the next life.”

“Help me.” Mujur sought the eyes of the bystanders.

One by one, they turned away, abandoning him to his fate.

Only a lone girl who hid behind a tree boldly stared at him, her brownish-green eyes red-rimmed and filled with sadness.

Mujur couldn’t turn away as he looked into the visage of a younger version of the dead wehr-tigress. “Please,” he called to her.

The cane whipped down. Mujur’s entire body tensed when the sting of the rattan met his flesh, cutting into his chest. He fought to hold down the bile rising in his throat as pain consumed him but had no time to recover as Kasut beat him without mercy. Only the whistle of the cane slicing through the air prepared him for each blow which ricocheted off his body.