HEAR YE, HEAR YE [Assorted Medieval Fantasy Stories]

[01] Chapter 7: Stabbing Lights

The beast in question was that very thing Bartholomeu dreaded; its flesh was a sinewy, glistening mass of twisting oil that coiled around obsidian bones and fangs. It was humanoid in shape, the size of an average man, but it tore that elven maiden in half all the same. Through the corrupted skull of a black-boned deer, eyes of soulless white turned their attention to the spear-totting Bartholomeu.

One thing was certain; one of them would die tonight.

Bartholomeu lowered his spear as he stepped into the open air, hatred flaring in his bones as the creature made to face him. "Quiver!" yelled a familiar voice, yet a sonorous bellow from the cold-blooded hunter drowned her call out. Bartholomeu charged forward, right towards the creature as it howled and counter-charged him.

From across the village, the creature had leapt onto the rooftops, tearing through leaves and brambles as Bartholomeu neared. The creature was now just before him, growling from atop a hovel just before it suddenly bounded for Bartholomeu from three houses away.

Bartholomeu, shocked but responsive, sidestepped the attack, reactively slamming the tip of his spear into the creature's side and causing the creature to barrel past him and into the ground. 

He nearly lost the grip on his spear, and he could feel the shaft splinter, but the creature's flesh gave way first, torn apart from the momentum as it barreled past. Bartholomeu quickly turned as the corrupted flesh melted off his weapon, predatorial eyes observing as the creature rapidly leapt onto its feet again.

It turned with a howl, now tearing its way to Bartholomeu on all fours. Its claws ripped the ground apart as Bartholomeu braced himself for the charge. The creature slowed before it met Bartholomeu's spear reach, then, with a lightning swiftness, cut a crude rune into the ground in front of it, causing the whole earth to upheave its way to Bartholomeu.

The rune attack snaked under Bartholomeu's guard, causing the ground below his feet to split apart. His stance was broken as his legs were splayed by the parting floor, and the ground seemed to rise up on his either side to swallow him whole. Bartholomeu leapt to avoid the terrain that ripped out to try and gnaw off his feet, then kick-jumped off the forming scissor blade to his side, right into the creature before him.

His spear rocketed forward, right where a heart would be, but the creature had simply rolled off from the attack. Bartholomeu crashed into the ground in front of him, his spear buried into the earth too deep. The creature howled as it brutally stood once more, just before Bartholomeu could even press against the dirt.

But then an even deeper howl sounded from afar: a war horn, blasting a sonorous decree of death into the air. The gallop of horses rang from the distance, and the creature's head turned to their sound. 

Without a second thought, the creature turned and fled, leaping onto the houses and away into the night. Bartholomeu had his hand on his spear, now standing to try and pull it out, but a sudden agony took his leg, and he collapsed back onto the ground.

The rage seemed to drip away from him now, just as the drip of blood fell from a stained blade. The smaller things came back into focus, like the feeling of something jagged lodged into Bartholomeu's leg, or the distant crying of a child as horse hooves consumed the waking world.