daily twenty nine . prologue . 362 words
story : this is a prologue for a short story i wrote a while back, i’m pretty sure it’s called behind the creek or something ^^’ i’ll link it here if i ever end up digging it up (think i posted it on my other profile if you’re interested in finding it haha). the prologue is set a few years after the main incident thing

“Bobby, wait up!” His father called, running after the young boy. Bobby sat on a rock, marveling at the sight in front of him. “Look at the sleepy bears, Daddy,” he said, pointing to them with his small fingers. “Bobby,” his father whispered, voice shaking. “Let’s go son.” He quietly lifted him off the rock, making his way as far from the bears as possible before they awoke. They pushed past a few big leafy plants and found themselves in a clearing with old, broken down cottages. Bobby jumped out of his father’s arms and ran towards them, screaming with delight. “Look Daddy! See the houses!” His father nodded in disbelief. “I see them alright,” he muttered, tracing his hand along the claw marks and paw prints. “I wonder who made these?” He asked himself, studying the structures. “Oh Daddy,” Bobby said, rolling his eyes. “The animals of course!” Debris and dead plants littered the center of the clearing, tufts of fur and even the occasional fleck of blood could be seen in the sand. Bobby’s father quickly covered it up, not wanting his child to notice the gore, no matter how small. As he was looking around some more, he heard Bobby screech. He whipped around and raced toward him. He eventually found him behind one of the cottages, waving around a robot hand and digging further into the ground, finding more parts. “What the—” “Robot,” Bobby announced, interrupting him. “Robot arm! I found a robot!” He cheered, dancing around in circles. His father ignored him, searching for more, desperately wanting information on what happened in this clearing. He got up and walked to where all the debris sat, poking it around with a stick. After finding nothing useful, he decided to see what was inside the cottages. With a gulp, he walked in slowly, stick in hand. A few dead leaves sat on a shelf, and bloody cobwebs could be seen all across the ground. After more searching, he discovered an assortment of herbs. He pulled them to his nose, giving them a sniff. “Used for healing perhaps,” he observed. “But by animals? How would they know to use them?”