[DE GERMAN WATTYS GRAND PRIZE WINNER & TOP 25 HISTORICAL AWARD 2023] *The perfect first mission for two inexperienced seekers: a small village in the middle of dark forests. Gruesome deaths and mysterious events. Kyle is a self-proclaimed Master of...
England, West Coast Devonshire, Dartmoor Dyowl's Hollow 5 November 1898, 11:26 pm
Benjamin wanted to close his eyes. To squeeze them shut and not face the inevitable fate that lay ahead of him. For some reason he couldn't explain to himself, he kept them wide open anyway.
He was exhausted and tired of the fight. He cradled the sleeping girl's head against his chest. Hopefully, she would die just like that. Peacefully asleep. Ben did not move. Every muscle in his body was tense, though his mind had given up and surrendered to the hopelessness that paralyzed him. He simply stared towards the horror. Despite the wild throbbing in his chest that like a feral last spark perhaps hoped to move him to a final surge. All will to fight, however, had fallen from him. The brown hair stuck wildly to his face.
The grotesque maw opened before him and Ben thought he was facing hell-made flesh. It was not only the curved, yellowish teeth in the enormous mouth that seemed to flash greedily at him. The inside of the deadly and sinister maw was also peppered with countless disgusting teeth, which were lined up in circles in the mouth like a worm. The three tongues slapped wetly in different directions, each of them split like a snake's and hissing just as much. A deviant stench emanated from the throat that made Ben want to retch and vomit. Perhaps his senses were playing tricks on him when he thought he saw something crawling in the musty maw, like bugs or spiders.
It was as if the world held its breath. Not a breath of wind dared to murmur or whisper, even the wisps of mist seemed to persist in their billowing. Desperately, he pressed the little girl against his body with his healthy arm. It was the foolish thought that perhaps he could somehow protect her from the razor-sharp fangs that were about to shred her flesh and chew up her body. Ben's heart paused in its wild drumming as the jaws shot toward them.
Then he thought he suddenly felt the heat of the desert. In the corner of his eye, he perceived something. A flicker in the air, a wavering, and prancing, as if a mirage was manifesting itself right there. Ben blinked. Strained and quickly.
The light from the glowing cursed red feather climbed over a blade and refracted in it. It reflected it and to Ben, it seemed as if a flash of white and reddish light blinded him briefly. Then, with a loud, audible smack, the deadly flash drove through scale horn and hide, digging deep into demonic flesh.
Against the night sky and the silken blue with its winking stars and drifting clouds, the mage's form stood out darkly, like a descending angel of death. He raised the blade above his head, screamed into the night, and then let it whiz down again and again with all the strength he possessed.
It drove into the demon's neck, causing the horn of the scales to crack and crack like thin ice. Splinters burst, leaping away and revealing flesh beneath the blade. The monster roared and howled in rage and pain as the sharp edge cut through sinew and muscle. Then the roar turned into a hideous, choking sound that came from the throat overflowing with blood. It gushed out of the cuts that had been made in it, splashed in a fountain on the floor, and dispersed like a warm-blooded rainstorm.
Kyle's face held an expression of blind battle frenzy. The sword whizzed down, again and again. Ben could see that the disgusting creature, in its dying moment, was trying to disintegrate - but failing. The wounds did not heal and the thick scales of the horn did not stop the sword, which glistened with black blood in the glow of the moon. And then it went down one last time and the beast's head finally rolled off the writhing neck. It fell a little to the side and then lay motionless. The body lurched, the long neck bending to the right and to the left. Blood poured onto the ground, drenching earth, mud, and every leaf in a deep black. Then a sudden sound of hissing and clicking made the Seekers' bodies span anew. Kyle jerked the sword up over his head again, ready to strike once more.
The massive body and head of the warped, unnatural creature disintegrated like ashes in the wind. In stunned disgust, the searchers watched as the body fell apart into countless creeping creatures. Spiders disappeared at breakneck speed alongside centipedes under foliage in the thicket. Worms burrowing into the ground. Cockroaches and maggots are squirming, beetles scurrying away in droves.
Nothing remained at the spot except the blackened forest floor and a long, red feather. But the coal fire inside her had gone out. The wind made it tremble and as it took a small leap, caught by the etheric fingers, threatening to be swept away, Kyle's boot struck the remnant of the horrible creature.
The mage was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling under great gasping breaths. He was flecked with the demon's hot blood and for a moment looked himself like a pagan warrior of an ancient, savage, and bloody time. His fingers were covered all over with blood that had run down the wizard's arms and sleeves. It was impossible to tell what came from him and what from the beast. It caked his hair and face and made the blue eyes seem unusually bright as they slid to Ben.
"Ben." Kyle's voice sounded like a hoarse, powerless groan. For a second he feared he was too late. In his blind, bottomless fear for the other man, he had been unable to think of anything. His heart was beating up to his throat. Not because of the demon..., but up to Benjamin's first stirring since he had slammed his sword into the creature's damned body.
The doctor barely dared to move, then half-raised himself, the little girl still in his arms. When Kyle saw that Benjamin was unharmed, a smile slid into his features and seemed to draw away the shadow that had hung over him like a veil. There was nothing but sheer relief. Then he sank to his knees and simply fell to the side. The sword's metal clanked softly as it fell from his hands into the foliage.
Kyle inhaled. As deep as his chest would allow. Although there was still the numbing pain, all the throbbing and complaining in his body, it felt as if a stone had rolled from his soul and body. A gentle breeze blew away across the hollow whose namesake terror no longer dwelt there and the treetops rustled in the soft night breeze.
The mage could feel the heavy aura withdrawing from this place, the claws loosening, and nature daring to breathe a sigh of relief around them.
Benjamin dropped to his knees beside the mage. Kyle looked stricken, completely drained. "I just slayed a demon!" the mage gasped, and Benjamin couldn't help but let out a hoarse laugh.
"Yes, Kyle, you did." agreed Dr. Archer to the mage, whose lips now pulled into a wide grin. The mischievousness that had been wiped from the arrogant jerk's features for days seemed to have returned, for it flashed in the exhausted eyes like little beacons.
"I'll never let you forget this," Kyle promised.
"No one will believe you." The doctor said quietly with a laugh but winced himself under the biting pain of his arm. He too sank into a crouch, completely at his wits' end.
Then, a soft sigh sounded. Both pairs of seekers' eyes latched onto the childlike features of Annabeth, whose eyelids trembled all at once. And when the little girl opened her eyes as if she had just woken from a dream, both seekers knew that the terror was over.
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