The Jabberwocky

It was dark and going on midnight, and the slimy toads croaked loudly. Gyring in the harsh winds. Only the brave would venture out tonight, but even the birds dared not whistle, or breathe.

'Be careful of the Jabberwocky my boy!' Shouted the boy's father. 'Look out for the claws that scratch and grab, and the jaws that bite and tear.' He said the last word with relish in his voice, and a fearful glint in his eye.

'And the Jubjub bird that's perched on it's shoulder, is not to be underestimated.' His voice hardened as he added. 'Do you understand. It's friends are viscous and just as bloodthirsty as the beast itself. The Bandersnatch that always lingers near to the Jabberwocky, has the most awful smell. But the Jabberwocky... well you already know. But it is viscous and vile and can tear a man half.' The boy gulped and thought what it might feel like to be ripped in half. He shuddered horribly but his father didn't notice.

The boy unsheathed his blade; a magnificent one. It made from vorpal, a blade of power fitting for a king, a hero. The boy felt it was wrong in his arms but still gripped it firmly. He waited for what felt like the longest time, hours after his father had left. The boy had heard tell of the Jabberwocky, he knew what it could do.

He had the stories of people being dismembered and torn apart, an awful way to die. And the only reason they died was for the Jabberwocky was near but immortal. All that had attempted to slay the Jabberwocky had become the slain. So many lives lost, so many tortured and shattered souls, all by the hand, or claw, of the Jabberwocky. So how could he, a mere boy, defeat it when an army could not?

Still, even as the boy's mind was full of thoughts of death, he was wary and alert. Even though he was confident in believing that the worst was near, he had a will to survive. So the boy waited. He hid in a Tumtum tree, to give himself the advantage. He waited in the tree until dusk, which was when he finally heard it. The trees shook, and the ground trembled with the sound. It was the call of the Jabberwocky. And it was coming.

From behind the tree the boy got to his feet hurriedly and stared around, looked fixedly for the Jabberwocky, and straining his ears for every pinprick of sound.

He heard the ominous thump, thump, thump of far too large footsteps. Then suddenly he felt, more than saw, the Jabberwocky. It was lingering in the trees just north of him. And with a shout of fright the boy ran, but not away from it. He was ready to fight.

He drew back his sword, but before he could swing he felt the sharp pain in his left temple. Crashing to the ground he went. His head and face covered in scarlet blood. Then the Jubjub bird struck again, whilst the Jabberwocky watched eagerly from the cover of the trees. As the boy batted frantically at the bird, desperate to get it away from his face, the Jabberwocky slipped passed them both and edged closer to the boy; now in a more preferable vantage point.

So far it was quite clear the boy was to lose as he tackled the Jubjub bird. Suddenly, as if encouraged by the Jabberwocky's gaze, the bird swooped for what looked like a finishing blow, but instead the boy swivelled away, and its beak merely raked the side of his eye.

The boy screamed horribly, and thick blood poured from the wound in his eye, dying the ground around him red. The bird scrabbled around with its talons, hollowing out his eye socket and causing the boy more tortuous pain.

Then from out of his sleeve the boy managed to produce a small dagger. Which, with a swift swishing motion, he used to slice the Jubjub bird in half. And it fell, quite obviously dead, as it was almost in two.

Slowly squinting out of his good eye, terrified to open it fully and give the another target, he saw the Jabberwocky leering at him from what seemed an inch away, then as he blinked it was gone. Sighing half in fear, and half in relief he shut his eye again. was rolling on the ground, blood streaming from his now empty eye socket, and trying desperately to keep the bird from his other eye. He knew if he got away from the bird he would run, not stay and kill the Jabberwocky as he had promised his father. But flee into the woods and back to safety, for there was no way he could even slay the Jubjub bird, who compared to the Jabberwocky was an easy target.

It suddenly stuck him as odd that the Jabberwocky hadn't intervened yet, surely it wouldn't leave him for the bird. It was cunning though, and as the boy thought whole he struggled, his fears grew so big, he wished that the Jabberwocky would come and kill him straight away, to spare him of fearing it.

Groaning and wincing he managed to wrench himself upright into a sitting position. And whilst scouring the space around for a sign of the Jabberwocky he saw the Vorpal sword lying mere feet away. Looking around warily he darted for the sword, and as he did he felt the sharp pain between his shoulder blade, he fell forward choking and coughing, blood spilling passed his lips and soaking hi shirtfront. Gasping for breath, he continued to force his way toward the sword.

It seemed though, that his efforts were for nothing, for the more he struggled and fought, simply the harder the Jabberwocky pressed down on him. In one last attempt to reach the sword he lunged, and thrown off balance, the Jabberwocky fell, and rising over the hideous beast, clutching the vorpal sword with both hands, he brought it down onto the Jabberwocky's neck.

And with a sickening thunk it's head fell to the ground, oozing green blood, glinting silver in the moonlight.

Aching and throbbing the boy got to his feet, sheathing his sword as he did so. Then he took the head of the once brutal Jabberwocky in his hands. He then turned to the forest and wobbled back to his home, where his father would be waiting. He spared not a glance for the scene he left behind, but simply strode off into the forest. And knowing that no creature dared face him.

The boy that killed the Jabberwocky. 

It was dark and going on midnight, and the slimy toads croaked loudly. Gyring in the harsh winds. Only the brave would venture out tonight, but even the birds dared not whistle, or breathe.