Leopard Girl-The Jaws OF Chusualu

[The Clutching Hand]

The storm raged over head as the various denizens of the jungle listened from below. Resting in nest, burrows, caves and huts they waited patiently for the rain to come. Water was life and the sound of thunder meant an end to the dry season and the beginning of the rise of the river. Soon man and animal would be able to go to the banks once more and not have to contest with what ever might have gotten there first.
The time was late, for the sun had completely surrendered its position in the sky to the moon, and the moon had soon fled behind the furious clouds that flooded the jungle. The cold rain meant little to the group that had gathered at the edge of the river. They were men from many different paths, some had been thrown out of their tribes for murder, some had been shunned because they felt they could rule better than the chief even if the tribe disagreed, and some had never known a tribe preferring to be alone. On any other given night they would have slit the throat of the man standing on either side of them. But that was a different time. Now they were followers brought together by a charismatic hermit who preached stronger than any witch doctor
The rain had long since put out the torches that lit the mouth of the cave, the lighting striking every so often proved a nice substaitute. Its flashes cut into the darkness of the cave casting a glow on the leader of this strange cult as he exited his lair. H was tall and slender, hair gray like stone, flowed freely down his back, strolling into the clear view of his congregation he held up his arms signaling all to clear their minds and listen to his word.
"Feel it my brothers," he yelled
"Once again the rain has come. An though it brings the promise of life, for us it makes another pact. Even as I speak it strengthens our lord's realm once again, claiming every ditch and isolated pool that the dry season took from him. Now once again he may sounder up and down the jungle at his leisure. None may challenge him, the croc though its teeth are as sharp as any claw is easily consumed, the giant snake who prides itself on strength that can crush bone, does little against the mighty force of our lords bite, and even the lion who calls the grassy plains his kingdom does so only because our lord prefers the cool of the river."
Pausing in his sermon, the hermit motioned to the mouth of the cave which was instanly lit up from within revealing a large statue head of his god. Standing to one side
tied to a pole was a young women, fear in her eyes as she looked at the speaker and back at the head.
"Long has been his slumber, but know Chusualu has awakend and he hungers. As his followers your appitites shall be quenched as well wether they be for slaves, weapons, or women. For as his acolytes your arms are his jaws and spears his teeth and with them we shall consume all in his name,"
The hermit pointed at two of the men and directed them to the woman. They quickly went to the stake, untied her an lifted her up over head. As they worked the mouth of the idol opened creating enough space to lay a person in.
The young maiden struggled but it was no good, the men laid her in the mouth and held firm. She screamed, kicked and begged, but it was fell on hearts as hard as the stone that sank into her back. Her kicking slowly started to lessen as it became clear they were not letting go. Her eyes wondered to the top of the mouth and realized that it was lowering again.
"Watch and rejoice," said the hermit
"For our god feasts on his first meal in a long while."
The sound of the womens screams were drowned out by the claps of thunder

[SGWriter]

Interesting start, I recommend though breaking up the text with some paragraphs. One block of text is hard on the eyes.

[The Clutching Hand]

for some reason it did that when I posted not sure why maybe I hit a key, next chapter will be up tomorrow.

[Centurion]

You probably indented your paragraphs, right? The text editor evidently doesn't read that. You have to space between paragraphs, block style.

[The Clutching Hand]

The chief rubbed his head, hoping beyond hope that it would remove the headache he felt from the shouting on all sides of the council. It had seemed like his only course of action at the time, the bloodstained cloth from one of the village women had been thrown at his feet by some man claiming to be the messenger of Chusaulow. The visiter had made the bold statement that this fate would befall every man, woman and child in the tribe unless tribute was set out in a specified spot in three moons time. Not one to give into threats he had called an emergency war council to decide the best way to handle these followers of some strange god. A girl of his village had been murdered and that would be avenged.

"We should just give them what they wish," exclaimed on elder.

"Why should we risk all the lives of our tribe for one woman who was foolish enough to run around outside of our boarders?"

"It is not just for us to give these men weapons that we crafted and crops that we grew," snapped another.

"We have out pride and I would rather see us fight to keep it,"

The chief, Buuko, tapped his staff on the floor of the hut. The men all silenced their arguments and turned to give the leader the attention that was rightfully his at the moment. All hoped that each of their debates had stured something withen him and he would make his decision to favor them. The chief for his part did not see were any meaningful conclusion had been made, but this was going no where.

"Council," he began

"I like you do not wish to see our people live in fear, giving what we work for to outcasts who hide behind some deranged man who in turn says he speaks for a god. Nor do I see what we would gain from war, it is true we could take them, but how many of our warriors would be lost in the process? An I do not see it as fare to just let the death of one of our own go unpunished. Therefore I suggest we seek aide from another."

"Lately I have heard word around many a camp fire of a woman, wereing the skin of the leopard. I have set and listend to tales of how she has wrestled savage beast to the ground with no help. I have listend to tales of how she has waged war on the men who eat the flesh of their brothers. An I have heard that she does not take kindly to those who would tread on others."

The men all sat and thought over what Buuko had said. Each had heard a different story of the woman he had spoke of. But how could they trust one who was not of their people? An even if she was as good as the stories told how could they find her? No wiseman or witch doctor knew were she called home, most suggested that her home was the entire jungle and if that was true she might never be reached.

"Chief Buuko," said one who had took it upon himself to say what the others were thinking.

"Do you know how she might be reached?"

"It is said that she comes to those in need, all that need be done is beat on a drum covered in the skin of the jungle cat that she wears,"

"And do we have such a drum in all of the village?" the speaker asked.

"The leopard is a dangerous prey, if it can be called tha,t a hunter could just as much be its feast let alone kill it for his own dinner,"

The chief went to answer the question when his lips stopped in mid motion. They slowly formed a smile wich seemed to feel each man in the hut with a since of unease.
The chief pointed to the door of the hut.

"It would seem one has been prepared for us,"

All eyes turned to the door to gaze upon a figure wearing the mask of a witch doctor. The figure was small bearly as tall as half grown boy. The wooden face covered his entire torso revealing only the arms and legs, the hair of the mask fell done the back of the figure almost to the ground probably completely covering his back. In the figures hands was a small drum with leopard skin streched out on the top.

"I had a feeling that your tribe might be in need of this Chief Buuko," said the Keeper of Jungle Secret.

"If you would all follow me to the edge of the village we will see of we can call upon the leopard girl,"

The Keeper then turned and headed out of sight. The men all got up off their seats and scrambled out the door to follow. The Keeper only revealed himself once in a while, like the one they wished to contact nothing was known of him except that he appeared only when a person inquired of a mystery that he felt like sharing the answer of.

They finally reached the edge. The Keeper had already made a seat in the sand and was steadily beating the drum. His chant was in a language that none of them knew. It echoed along with the sound of the drum through the tribes head. The tone sounded like a battle hymn that a warrior would hum on his way to battle. Strangely it comforted them.The Keeper gestured with the nod of in the direction of a tree limb that stretched doubt from the darkness of the jungle. Slowly a pair of legs then body could be seen lowering itself to the ground from the cover of the leaves. The woman's feet lightly hit the ground. She then looked directly at the Keeper who had stopped his drumming.

"So you beat the drum, so I have appeared. How might the power of the Leopard Girl aide you