Short Story Soup

Sand

A/N- This was written for the 2021  Of Monsters and Us Wattpad Fantasy contest

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The quarter moon shone down upon the desert, giving it a ghostly quality. This suited Graunth just fine, as soon he'd make the human join the dead. He lifted his slim snout into the air, sniffing carefully, his prey couldn't be too far ahead. His jaws curled into what would pass as a smile, and the sand drake padded lightly forward, his eight legs with their wide webbed paws keeping him from sinking into the soft sands of the dunes. Those same claws could burrow into the sand in seconds, letting him lie with nothing but his nostrils in the air to ambush his prey. But that wasn't necessary tonight.

For centuries, the human settlements along the great wastes had been at war with the creatures that inhabited it. The creatures would raid the pastures and fields of the humans, stealing cattle, fruit, vegetables, and yes, the occasional human, to feed upon. In return, the humans would send their forces into the waste, hunting the sand drakes, the desert goblin tribes, and the immense kukri birds to keep them from raiding the villages.

But for the last few years, the tables had turned. A desert goblin shaman had developed a magical plague that would affect only the humans and released it on a raid into their midst. Now many of their villages lay abandoned, the fields fallow, and their herds already eaten by the emboldened raiders. The hunting wasn't as good, but the threat of the human swords and magic was gone. Only a few hardy souls ventured forth into the wastes anymore, and those that did were usually killed quickly.

But the one that Graunth was more difficult that most.

The human had raided a sand goblin tribe deep under their oasis home and slaughtered them all. Even their sorcerers were dead now, including the one that had developed the plague. Graunth could understand that logic, revenge was well known among the creatures of the waste, and no doubt the human would want to destroy the goblins that had killed so many of his kind.

But now the human would die as well.

Graunth was getting close. The scents of the human on the light breeze told him that there were only a pair of dunes between he and dinner. As he sniffed again, he realized there was a bonus, the human was cooking! Granted, the beef would have been better raw, but it would be a delicious dessert to the main course or raw and writhing human.

He was almost drooling in anticipation.

The drake slowly poked his head over the dune, his scales merging perfectly with the sand. The moon didn't cast enough light for a human to see him without a torch, but he didn't need to see. His nose told him everything. There was another dune ahead, and beyond it there was a flickering light. With another sniff, he confirmed that the cookfire was still there, the beef fat dripping into it and making the air smell delicious. But not as tasty as the hot human blood would soon be.

Anticipating the tasty meal that he would soon be enjoying, he quickly slipped down the face of the dune he was on, his short legs churning little divots in the sand. When Graunth reached the second dune, he slowed again, this would be the last time he would have cover, and he wanted to make sure that the human couldn't escape. There wasn't much chance of that of course, no human could outrun a sand drake in the desert, but he didn't want to leave anything to chance.

Once more Graunth peered over the top of a dune, this time the final one between him and his meal. In a shallow swale lay a small campsite, nothing more than a single tent with a fire in front of it. The haunch of beef flooded his senses and he had to stifle a growl as his stomach clenched, he wanted to feed so badly! A backpack lay outside the tent, but there was no sign of the human, no doubt his prey was resting as the meat cooked. That made his job all the easier, as he could just jump on the tent, trapping his prey as his claws made short work of it.

Hunting was never fair.

He took a final sniff, the beef overwhelming him with just a hint of the human mixed in. No other predators, and still only the one human. Perfect. The last thing he had wanted was to share the kill with another predator and stay hungry. This was his.

Graunth slowly crept down the dune, keeping his eyes on the tent, and looking for any movement. He was almost to the bottom of the slope when he caught sight of something odd.

A little scorpion, sitting still in the sand. But it wasn't alive, like the wild black scorpions that even he feared, it was made of metal. It twitched once.

Sand erupted around him as he felt a searing pain in his guts, two swords pierced him as he bellowed in agony. Curling his head down, he saw the human beneath him, hunting him as he would hunt others, but with swords instead of teeth. He tried to snap at it, but a sword ripped out of his guts to parry his teeth. He had time for one more bellow, this time of frustration, before collapsing in a heap.

Celia pulled herself out of the sand, shaking the grit out of her long dark hair that had been braided down her back. She picked up the tiny scorpion sentry and then then slipped it into a pouch on her belt. Slinging the backpack over her shoulder, she grabbed the beef off the fire by the bone and took a big bite. She still had a long walk ahead of her, but with the vial she had captured from the goblin sorcerer, perhaps the plague could finally be ended.