Prologue- a writing experiment

Here lies a story. A story of unknown origin (my basement one and a half years ago) for an unknown purpose (an english assignment) and by an unknown author. (who else?) This is just the prologue for now, but I'd be more than willing to write an entire story if enough comments come in. Enjoy!
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   Mitchell Creek Canyon, 10:26 pm

   The full moon gave the land below a soft, blue hue. The canyon, being around 150 yards across and one hundred feet deep, protected its thick forest from much of the light. Down here, the branches were so thick as to blot the clear, bright starred sky from anything below. The sounds of the creek, crickets, night birds, and the occassional owl were soft enough to keep from recoiling around the chasm, and the scent of pine and dry grass filled the air.
   Suddenly, from the south end of the ravine, the cricketing stopped from the trees. On the floor below, where it was nearly pitch black, all was silent. If one could listen carefully, though, one could hear soft, padded footfalls not far away. The slow, deliberate noises, amplified by the leaves they rustled and the twigs they snapped, came closer and closer.
   With a rustle of the undergrowth, a black figure appeared in the woods. It stood six feet tall, and stood on two thin, birdlike legs with three toes each. It even strutted awkwardly like a bird, too, cocking its odd, narrow head back and forth. The bony crests running down its head were solid and made of bone, but the long frills on the side and back of its long, crane-like neck bobbed and blew in the soft breeze. A long, whip-like tail added some elegance to this bizarre beast.
   But that wasn't all. On its back was a rider, carried by a saddle as a horse carries its horseman. The man seated was tall, slender, and wore a dark leather jacket and worn-out jeans. A blueish-green crystal hung from his neck by a string, and its glow illuminated the face of a man well in his forties. The full-brim hat he wore was thrown back, and thick bags lined underneath his eyes.
   As the pair approached the creek in the center of the canyon, the rider halted his beast, and calmly got off its back. He gently patted the animal's shoulder.
   "That's a good girl," he said in a near whisper. "That's a good Jesse."
   He grabbed the reins holding the creature and guided her to the water. At the creek's bank, he reached inside his jacket and pulled out a metal thermos. As he touched one end, it folded over and slid to one side. He then held the canister in the water to fill it. After it was full, he put it up to his lips and took a small sip.
   His eyes suddenly widened, and he spit the water back out. It was horribly bitter!
   Jesse agreed. As the creature drew some water in with her tongue, she gave a loud, hoarse cough and backed away.
   The rider scowled. This was supposed to be normal creek water, runoff from the mountains, and his thermos had a built in filter. There must have been something that the filter didn't pick up, something that passed as water, but wasn't...
   Without warning, a loud, high-pitched "KHRAAHHAAAHHH" cut the silence in half. As he looked up, the man saw a giant, bat-like animal pass overhead. Then it struck him:
   He was being traced.
   He quickly ran over to Jesse and tried to mount her, but she was panicked by the disturbance. She roared and brayed in angst, her long frills opening and closing with each noise.
   "Jesse, you stupid Dilo'! SHHH!" the rider shouted in vain.
   From the end of the canyon, an unearthly roar echoed across the walls. The man had to cover his ears, it was so loud, but in doing so, he let go of Jesse, and she quickly darted back into the undergrowth. The man swore to himself as he frantically looked for somewhere to run, somewhere to hide. From the direction of the noise, a behemoth, hardly visible from the lack of light and the thick trees, was rapidly approaching. With each footfall came a ground-heaving thud and the crash of trees. The only distinguishable features right now were two glowing, red eyes, growing larger as the figure stormed through the forest.
   The man's only hope was going back through the undergrowth, but just before he could return to sanctuary, he was seized. Five-foot-long jaws sank thick teeth into his side. He could smell the stench of rotten meat as he was lifted off the ground and whiplashed back and forth. The force was so strong and so swift that he couldn't even scream. The breath was squeezed out of him as the monster crushed his ribs. Finally, he was flung into the side of the canyon and fell to the trees below like a ragdoll.
   Bruised, broken, and bleeding, now his vision was going blurry. He looked over to see his attacker. It was a massive beast walking on two thick legs. A thick, blunt head, now covered with blood, had a huge mouth with thick teeth and a mask that covered his eyes with a glowing red light. Every inch of the creature, from its huge nostrils to its long, serpintine tail, was covered in thick metal plates that clanked and clattered as it cautiously ispected its victim.
   The man heard a gun cock over his head. He turned around and looked up to see a dark figure pointing a gun at his face. He couldn't make out any features; it was all a haze. The man above him simply said:
   "You, Alistaire, are one tough person to track. I'm just glad that the tracer fluid in the stream worked."
   The man on the ground remained motionless, and started coughing horridly.
   "That 'rex," the gunner continued, "is known to have an infectious bite. You'll probably be dead by tomorrow morning." He then chuckled to himself. "Of course, I could always end it right now. One pull of the trigger, and it will all be over."
   At this, the man knelt down, pressing the gun's barrel to Alistaire's forehead. "All you have to do," he continued, "is tell me where you were heading. What were you doing out here, all alone, in the middle of the night?"
   Alistaire wheezed and coughed, but he was able to make out a firm "NO."
   The man with the gun took his left hand and punched Alistaire across the face. "WHERE IS THE RESISTANCE? TELL ME! NOW!!"
   A strange smile came across th broken man's face. "You're talking to a tracker," he said. "A manhunter. I have no idea where they are. You don't stand a chance!"
   The man with the gun stood up. "Have it your way, then." He calmy walked away, putting the gun in his pocket. The ground trembled as the 'rex stomped over to Alistaire, wrapping its teeth around its helpless prey.
   With a quick swipe of the jaw, Alistaire was no more.

To be Continued...