Darak 1 - Smoke and Flame: Part 1

CHAPTER 2

The glass window was shattered, Darak nearly jumped out of his fur as a burning torch lay on the ground and the flame erupted. Coating half the cabin in black smoke and fire.

Quickly filling a bucket of cold water from the kitchen, he threw the liquid onto the flame, but it did no good. Perhaps the torch was coated in some sort of black magic, Darak nearly cried as he watched the walls of the cabin slowly succumb to the flame.

He had no choice but to escape the home, the only home he had. Looking at the heavy wooden door, he snorted in anger and charged with a mighty blow, he knocked the door down and stumbled into the dirt below.

His burning cabin was close by, the flames only grew larger.

As the minotaur stood at full height, the sound of arrows flew, hitting his tough flesh. The arrows didn't do much but cause a mild stinging-but he knew he couldn't stand the pain forever. Darak now knew his cabin wasn't burned by some freak accident, but by hunters.

From the dark woods, four soldiers stepped closer to the beast as he frantically searched for the source of the attack-arrows continued hitting him, blood dripping from his chest and onto his large legs.

"We've got him!" shouted one man. "Keep firing your arrows!"

Frowning, Darak gripped a large tree branch from the ground. Using both hands, he swung the weapon-hitting one of the four men who stood in a differing area to flank the beast. It crushed bone and flesh as the single soldier flew with a terrified scream. The now dying soldier crashed to the ground, his arms and legs shattered, blood dripping from the side of his head.

The other three scattered. In a panicked state, Darak heaved the thick branch over his head and crushed yet another soldier. His body practically exploded upon impact, sending limbs, a geyser of blood, and pieces of brain matter up towards the stars.

The final two human soldiers were nowhere to be seen. Darak heard no footsteps.

He took this opportunity to remove the arrows lodged in his flesh. Grunting loudly as he did so. The arrows wouldn't leave lasting damage, but they hurt like hell and would probably make the minotaur sore for the next few days.

He would have turned to lament the burning of his cabin until a much larger foe came out from the blackness of night. The green-skinned creature spoke. "You've got a rather good bounty on your head from the queen. So-I will do what I do best, get you to her and collect my payment. First-I must break you."

Martin chuckled and fearlessly walked up to Darak-both were of similar height and strength. However, Darak had anger on his side.

With the cabin burning brightly behind the two fighters, the orc swung the ax left and right, the right swing grazed Darak's arm.

Martin then lifted the ax above his head. Darak then gripped the weapon by the top of the hilt as it came down toward his skull. He gave the orc a mighty kick to the chest, causing him to stagger back.

The ax swings left. Instead of dodging, the minotaur gripped the ax yet again, inches from the blade. He tugged as hard as he could. Sending the orc falling forward with a surprised yelp.

With the ax in hand, Darak smiled and swung down, his muscles tense lifting the heavy object. Martin rolled out of the way and stood in a fighting stance.

The heat from the burning home caused the two to sweat, smoke began to fill the air and surround them. Martin quickly rubbed his face, to alleviate the feeling of an intense burn from his eyes.

With a barbaric yell, Darak ran toward the orc, knocking him to the ground.

Now the two were further from the burning cabin, the fires still illuminated their personal fighting arena.

With Darak on top of Martin, both fight over the ax, tugging and kicking.

Martin smiled and took a fist full of dirt, slinging rock, and mud into Darak's blue eyes. As Darak screamed in pain, feeling tears stream down his cheeks.

Martin sent a booted foot to the minotaur's large groin. Rolling over on his side, Darak clutched his manhood.

The orc shook a hefty amount of dirt from himself, holding the ax once again and looking down at the injured beast.

Martin sighed tiredly, his armor disheveled, his long black hair covered in mud, sweat, and blood. His green skin chipped and bruised. "Sorry, my furry friend. No man has bested me. You gave a good effort though. Now come with me." He slung the ax over his shoulder confidently.

The woods were still and silent, except for the fire raging in the background and the heavy breathing from a minotaur and orc.

As Darak went to his knees, mud dripped from his face. He snorted like an angry stallion, and with a burst of adrenaline, he yet again slammed into Martin.

Not using his foot as he had before, but the one weapon he had left. The two sharp white horns on his head. Both were dug deep into Martin's gut.

The orc coughed violently.

Looking down at Darak, who now looked less humanized and more beastly. Yanking his gigantic head quickly, Martin's entrails spilled onto the ground. He fell forward.

Narrowing his eyes, Darak picked the golden ax up off the ground and admired it.

He approached his cabin, which now was a pile of ash. The piles of black wood smelled strong, smoke still surrounded the woods as the minotaur helplessly sifted through the rubble, hoping to find anything to help him rebuild what he had.

In silence, Darak sat. Not moving.

His heart sank far into the pit of his stomach.

There was a lake close by the cabin, so Darak sadly trotted to the large body of water to clean his wounds and wipe dry blood from his fur.

He bathed for an hour, the water was warm as bathwater now that the sun had risen and covered the woods.

He took a few dives under the liquid, swimming and trying to ease the soreness of his muscular arms and legs. Nude and swimming in a lake felt freeing to the beast.

Once the minotaur had dried off, he found himself taking one last look at Martin's corpse, he noticed he wore a nice leather kilt with golden studs. Something the minotaur couldn't ever afford or make.

He unceremoniously removed it from Martin's hips and put it on himself. Martin was left half nude and disemboweled-good enough for him thought Darak.

Sadness filled his soul as he realized he'd never again set foot in the home he grew up in. Those memories would remain, but now he realized he had to make a tremendous change in his life.

The minotaur's life was once consumed with everyday tasks. Lifting wood, gathering food and supplies, keeping away from humans.

Now his life would be consumed with the one thing he never thought possible. Vengeance.