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(Part 1 of this story is located here: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/2545084 )
----
“Hey boy! Where’s my little gentleman?”
Benton stepped inside his home and closed the front door. He heard barking deep in his house as a furry form came rushing at him from the hallway.
The next thing he knew, Benton was kneeling on the floor as a large white and grey husky smothered his face with canine kisses.
“Did you miss me, Gent?” Benton asked with a smile, although he already knew the answer.
Gent barked and placed his paws on Benton’s shoulders, standing on his hind legs. Benton saw the familiar bowtie-shaped fur marking on Gent’s chest. He laughed at the appropriateness of his name. Save for a grey dimple on his left cheek, Gent’s “bowtie” was his most recognizable trait.
“A distinguished look for my distinguished little gentleman.” Benton smiled as he stood up. He walked into his living room and sat down on his sofa. Gent trotted over and came to rest at Benton’s feet.
Benton looked around the room, his eyes noting every detail. On the right side of his living room stood a glass cabinet with various sled-racing trophies. A photo sat next to each trophy, some showing the last moment of the race, and others displaying a group portrait of Benton and his former sled dogs.
On the bottom shelf sat eight small paintings, stamped with two paw prints each. The names of his sled dogs lay below the paintings, describing which dogs made which paw marks. Gent’s were the smallest, indicating how young he was when he first started sledding.
Benton looked left at his barren fireplace. He sighed, remembering how nice it used to be when he could afford firewood. Luckily, he had installed a heavy-duty heating system during his sled-racing days.
Benton looked above his fireplace and gazed at several of his paintings. Each of them detailed a loving scene between two people. One had them kissing on a deserted isle. Another had them caressing each other gently in the midst of a lush emerald forest. His favorite painting displayed a loving pair walking hand-in-hand along a snowy path towards parts unknown.
Benton got up and looked away, trying to fight back the memories of good times long-past. He walked into his bedroom as Gent followed his master.
Benton threw his paint-splattered coat onto a nearby chair and lay down on his bed in his work clothes. He had a bad habit of falling asleep in his daily attire, but he didn’t care tonight. He was exhausted, both mentally and physically.
Gent jumped up onto the bed and cuddled next to his master. Benton scratched him behind the ear and looked out his sliding window. The view was gorgeous. He could see the nearby mountains with their snow-capped peaks and ominous cloud-cover. The beauty of it all never ceased to amaze him.
Benton picked up a remote and turned on his television across the room. He figured he could drown his thoughts in a flurry of images.
“(click)…and we can expect temperatures to drop below zero tonight as a cold front moves into our area. Stay toasty and keep all pets inside…”
“(click)…the shoppers are literarily crawling over one another as they struggle to enter the store for its one-day-only sale. We can definitely see Christmas cheer being replaced by Christmas competition…”
“(click)…and we’re back to HourCast, our sixty-minute discussion on the issues that affect us today.”
Benton grinned as he put down the remote and lay back. HourCast was his favorite primetime television show and he rarely missed a broadcast. It was strange how he forgot about it tonight.
“I’m Eric Winters, here with William Knowles, acclaimed lecturer and philosophy professor at Zaworski University. Welcome back, William.”
“Thank you, Eric. Glad to be back on the show.”
Benton felt his eyes tiring as he watched the screen. He shook his head to stay awake.
“Today’s topic is the spirit of Christmas: wondrous international tradition or over-commercialized holiday? What is your view, William?”
“I think it’s a bit of both, Eric, although we do see a lot more of the latter.”
Benton closed his eyes…
“…the current state of Christmas today is all a matter of perspective.”
…and opened them wide. He was inside the television studio where HourCast was on-air! He found himself sitting between the interviewer and the philosopher as they discussed their topic.
William continued. “If we look at the commercialized aspect, we see greed, favoritism in regards to the dominant culture and exclusion towards subcultures that refuse to conform.” The philosopher looked through a partially transparent Benton as though he weren’t even there. Benton turned and looked at the interviewer.
“I beg to differ, William.” The host countered. “I know Christmas seems overly extravagant nowadays, but the spirit and heart is still the same.”
Benton wondered if he could interact with these people. “Actually…” he began to say, “In my experience, Christmas is what you make of it.”
In a flash, Benton found himself sledding down snowy white plains with his eight dogs in the lead. He laughed with the joy of the moment, excited that he was back in a thrilling race once more. He knew that he only had two miles to go before the finish line. If he won this race, he could finally leave town and move to the city where his paintings would find a slew of patrons.
A voice broke the air. “The spirit of Christmas is an allegorical fairy tale created to justify this increased commercialization. Show me one instance where true good will was displayed during Christmas!”
Without warning, the snow gave way in front of the dogs, causing them to slide down at a sharp angle towards an ice-covered lake. Benton tried to hold on but the pull was too great. The dogs slid forward on the ice with no problem, but the sled impacted with great force. The ice gave way underneath it, pulling the sled down into the freezing water below. The weight of the sled began to pull the rearmost huskies into the frigid lake. Benton jumped out of the sled as the seat went under. The dogs pulled futilely, hoping to escape their impending demise. Benton pulled out a pocket knife and leapt at the rearmost dogs, Lady and Gent. He grabbed the front of their reins as their hind legs plummeted below the water’s surface. Their whimpers intensified Benton’s resolve as he pulled himself forward.
He began to cut Lady’s line directly behind her, the strap barely above the water. In a few seconds, he had cut through it, freeing Lady.
The uneven weight distribution shifted the pack as the huskies on the right slid backwards. On impulse, Benton reached for Gent as the husky submerged.
“GENT!” he yelled as he dove underwater. The frigid lake sent a thousand waves of pain into his very being. He pulled himself under Gent and felt the world slow down underwater. He placed his knife under Gent’s harness and cut furiously as he saw the sled dip into the murky depths below.
Benton wrapped his leg around the harness above him as he snapped Gent’s restraints. He dropped his knife and embraced the husky as he felt the other sled dogs naturally pull him up by the harness strapped around his boot.
He broke the surface as his other huskies pulled him up onto the ice. They stopped moving and turned to look at their master, holding the youngest member of their pack.
Benton coughed up water as he looked at the shivering husky in his arms. His skin was terrifyingly cold and he was losing strength quickly. In the distance, several people were running towards the scene.
A flash of light made Benton sit up. He looked around and found himself sitting on the floor of his room. His breath slowed to a crawl as he calmed himself.
He struggled to get onto his bed once more, and gasped.
His body was still there, sound asleep.
Terrified, Benton spun around and felt his heart stop at the scene that now lay before him.
Gent was sitting in front of the now-open sliding window, staring up at an ominous cloaked figure. Its face was covered by a thick black scarf and round, bug-eyed sunglasses. The top of its head was hidden under a tan fedora.
“The loss of the race was not your fault, young Gent.” It spoke to Benton’s dog in soft voice that wasn’t quite natural. “You did not have the choice to continue after such an accident.”
Benton stood up and eyed the figure intensely. Who was this guy?
“Your master saved your life and gave up his artistic future to care for you and only you. I agree with your wish: it is time one good turn deserves another.” The cloaked figure said. It turned its dark glassy eyes towards Benton, freezing his blood cold.
Benton sat up in bed with start, sweat pouring off his brow in bullets. He clutched his forehead and moaned in mental agony.
He looked up at his television. Rectangular streaks of color filled the screen, signifying that the station was off-the-air. How long had he been asleep?
A cold draft caused a shiver to run down Benton’s spine. His eyes spotted the sliding window at the end of his room.
It was wide open, with nothing but the darkness of night beyond it.
(Continue to Part 3: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/2545148/ )
----
“Hey boy! Where’s my little gentleman?”
Benton stepped inside his home and closed the front door. He heard barking deep in his house as a furry form came rushing at him from the hallway.
The next thing he knew, Benton was kneeling on the floor as a large white and grey husky smothered his face with canine kisses.
“Did you miss me, Gent?” Benton asked with a smile, although he already knew the answer.
Gent barked and placed his paws on Benton’s shoulders, standing on his hind legs. Benton saw the familiar bowtie-shaped fur marking on Gent’s chest. He laughed at the appropriateness of his name. Save for a grey dimple on his left cheek, Gent’s “bowtie” was his most recognizable trait.
“A distinguished look for my distinguished little gentleman.” Benton smiled as he stood up. He walked into his living room and sat down on his sofa. Gent trotted over and came to rest at Benton’s feet.
Benton looked around the room, his eyes noting every detail. On the right side of his living room stood a glass cabinet with various sled-racing trophies. A photo sat next to each trophy, some showing the last moment of the race, and others displaying a group portrait of Benton and his former sled dogs.
On the bottom shelf sat eight small paintings, stamped with two paw prints each. The names of his sled dogs lay below the paintings, describing which dogs made which paw marks. Gent’s were the smallest, indicating how young he was when he first started sledding.
Benton looked left at his barren fireplace. He sighed, remembering how nice it used to be when he could afford firewood. Luckily, he had installed a heavy-duty heating system during his sled-racing days.
Benton looked above his fireplace and gazed at several of his paintings. Each of them detailed a loving scene between two people. One had them kissing on a deserted isle. Another had them caressing each other gently in the midst of a lush emerald forest. His favorite painting displayed a loving pair walking hand-in-hand along a snowy path towards parts unknown.
Benton got up and looked away, trying to fight back the memories of good times long-past. He walked into his bedroom as Gent followed his master.
Benton threw his paint-splattered coat onto a nearby chair and lay down on his bed in his work clothes. He had a bad habit of falling asleep in his daily attire, but he didn’t care tonight. He was exhausted, both mentally and physically.
Gent jumped up onto the bed and cuddled next to his master. Benton scratched him behind the ear and looked out his sliding window. The view was gorgeous. He could see the nearby mountains with their snow-capped peaks and ominous cloud-cover. The beauty of it all never ceased to amaze him.
Benton picked up a remote and turned on his television across the room. He figured he could drown his thoughts in a flurry of images.
“(click)…and we can expect temperatures to drop below zero tonight as a cold front moves into our area. Stay toasty and keep all pets inside…”
“(click)…the shoppers are literarily crawling over one another as they struggle to enter the store for its one-day-only sale. We can definitely see Christmas cheer being replaced by Christmas competition…”
“(click)…and we’re back to HourCast, our sixty-minute discussion on the issues that affect us today.”
Benton grinned as he put down the remote and lay back. HourCast was his favorite primetime television show and he rarely missed a broadcast. It was strange how he forgot about it tonight.
“I’m Eric Winters, here with William Knowles, acclaimed lecturer and philosophy professor at Zaworski University. Welcome back, William.”
“Thank you, Eric. Glad to be back on the show.”
Benton felt his eyes tiring as he watched the screen. He shook his head to stay awake.
“Today’s topic is the spirit of Christmas: wondrous international tradition or over-commercialized holiday? What is your view, William?”
“I think it’s a bit of both, Eric, although we do see a lot more of the latter.”
Benton closed his eyes…
“…the current state of Christmas today is all a matter of perspective.”
…and opened them wide. He was inside the television studio where HourCast was on-air! He found himself sitting between the interviewer and the philosopher as they discussed their topic.
William continued. “If we look at the commercialized aspect, we see greed, favoritism in regards to the dominant culture and exclusion towards subcultures that refuse to conform.” The philosopher looked through a partially transparent Benton as though he weren’t even there. Benton turned and looked at the interviewer.
“I beg to differ, William.” The host countered. “I know Christmas seems overly extravagant nowadays, but the spirit and heart is still the same.”
Benton wondered if he could interact with these people. “Actually…” he began to say, “In my experience, Christmas is what you make of it.”
In a flash, Benton found himself sledding down snowy white plains with his eight dogs in the lead. He laughed with the joy of the moment, excited that he was back in a thrilling race once more. He knew that he only had two miles to go before the finish line. If he won this race, he could finally leave town and move to the city where his paintings would find a slew of patrons.
A voice broke the air. “The spirit of Christmas is an allegorical fairy tale created to justify this increased commercialization. Show me one instance where true good will was displayed during Christmas!”
Without warning, the snow gave way in front of the dogs, causing them to slide down at a sharp angle towards an ice-covered lake. Benton tried to hold on but the pull was too great. The dogs slid forward on the ice with no problem, but the sled impacted with great force. The ice gave way underneath it, pulling the sled down into the freezing water below. The weight of the sled began to pull the rearmost huskies into the frigid lake. Benton jumped out of the sled as the seat went under. The dogs pulled futilely, hoping to escape their impending demise. Benton pulled out a pocket knife and leapt at the rearmost dogs, Lady and Gent. He grabbed the front of their reins as their hind legs plummeted below the water’s surface. Their whimpers intensified Benton’s resolve as he pulled himself forward.
He began to cut Lady’s line directly behind her, the strap barely above the water. In a few seconds, he had cut through it, freeing Lady.
The uneven weight distribution shifted the pack as the huskies on the right slid backwards. On impulse, Benton reached for Gent as the husky submerged.
“GENT!” he yelled as he dove underwater. The frigid lake sent a thousand waves of pain into his very being. He pulled himself under Gent and felt the world slow down underwater. He placed his knife under Gent’s harness and cut furiously as he saw the sled dip into the murky depths below.
Benton wrapped his leg around the harness above him as he snapped Gent’s restraints. He dropped his knife and embraced the husky as he felt the other sled dogs naturally pull him up by the harness strapped around his boot.
He broke the surface as his other huskies pulled him up onto the ice. They stopped moving and turned to look at their master, holding the youngest member of their pack.
Benton coughed up water as he looked at the shivering husky in his arms. His skin was terrifyingly cold and he was losing strength quickly. In the distance, several people were running towards the scene.
A flash of light made Benton sit up. He looked around and found himself sitting on the floor of his room. His breath slowed to a crawl as he calmed himself.
He struggled to get onto his bed once more, and gasped.
His body was still there, sound asleep.
Terrified, Benton spun around and felt his heart stop at the scene that now lay before him.
Gent was sitting in front of the now-open sliding window, staring up at an ominous cloaked figure. Its face was covered by a thick black scarf and round, bug-eyed sunglasses. The top of its head was hidden under a tan fedora.
“The loss of the race was not your fault, young Gent.” It spoke to Benton’s dog in soft voice that wasn’t quite natural. “You did not have the choice to continue after such an accident.”
Benton stood up and eyed the figure intensely. Who was this guy?
“Your master saved your life and gave up his artistic future to care for you and only you. I agree with your wish: it is time one good turn deserves another.” The cloaked figure said. It turned its dark glassy eyes towards Benton, freezing his blood cold.
Benton sat up in bed with start, sweat pouring off his brow in bullets. He clutched his forehead and moaned in mental agony.
He looked up at his television. Rectangular streaks of color filled the screen, signifying that the station was off-the-air. How long had he been asleep?
A cold draft caused a shiver to run down Benton’s spine. His eyes spotted the sliding window at the end of his room.
It was wide open, with nothing but the darkness of night beyond it.
(Continue to Part 3: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/2545148/ )
Category Story / All
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 120 x 120px
File Size 15.8 kB
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