Bound In Blood (Bound In Blood - Book One)

Chapter Five

As the sun fell from its mighty perch, Blare and I found ourselves engulfed in darkness, navigating my only the waning gibbous above. The stars told their stories in magnificent illustrations. Hermia and Conner had both taught me how to read them and where to find the pictures. There was the Fallen Warrior crouched on one knee, his blade at his side wearing his winged helmet, and then there was the Stream of Psyche, a cluster of stars that flooded the sky as a river washed away the land. With them were many other heroes and deities, each telling their own stories, left to be uncovered for as long as they remained.

Blare whinnied quietly as I admired the ocean of constellations. That was when I heard the rustling. I brought Blare to a halt and listened intently. I felt her tense beneath me as the sound continued, becoming louder and louder as it drew nearer.

With my bow readied, I drew an arrow from its quiver, preparing myself for whatever would emerge from the thick vegetation. My breathing slowed, allowing me to hear every tiny sound made this night. The sounds of pine thrushes collecting thatch to build their nests with and settle for the night; the sound of small critters bounding through the underbrush; the undeniable rumbling of which its origin was unknown.

Desperately, I searched the thick brush which lined both sides of this lonely road, looking for movement to meet the sound. I could hardly see a thing through the dark for I hadn't the Sight. Some were born with it, some came upon it with a curse, and to some, it was given. They could see through the pitch of night as if the sun was still sitting high above, able to perceive each and every object before them with ease. A number of creatures out there possessed the Sight, using it to stalk their prey. Some of which were once human, warped into something unrecognisable. They relished in the night and dwelled in darkness, waiting for their next victim to fall in their lap. I didn't much fancy being a dish.

However, it was not one of these once-human beasts that emerged from the forest but something much more tame. Still hostile and menacing, but not nearly the threat I had been readying myself for. Standing on four thin, hairy legs with its other two raised, this creature was far from friendly. I watched as its thick saliva dripped from its pincers and all four of its eyes blinked at once. Its back was layered and armoured like a common beetle but stood near the height of Blare.

I took aim with my bent steel arrow, staring at the small area of underbelly that was exposed under the creature's head. Taking a single deep breath, I released the arrow as I breathed out, sending it shooting through the air and striking the beast. The creature hissed and moaned, stumbling forward with intent. From its belly oozed a thick, yellow bile-like substance which dripped to the earth below. Immediately, I reached for another arrow from my quiver, fumbling until I managed to bring it over my head and to the bowstring. By this time, the beast was almost upon me and I had barely the time to make a mistake. Hastily, I reeled back the arrow and let it fly through the night, impacting the beast mere inches from the first. Again, it groaned in agony but it wasn't ready to give in with two arrow shafts protruding from its belly. Its pace slowed but it was too late now. The monster poised itself like a striking snake before hurtling itself upward toward us, knocking me from Blare's back. She shrieked in pain, the squealing piercing the darkness, yet she did not fall. From above, birds fled their nest upon hearing the sound.

Heaving myself upright and back on my feet, I readied my bow again but the creature was far too fast and came charging at me, knocking me back to the ground and my bow far out of reach. Below this monstrous beast, I felt its warm, oozing saliva drip onto my face and its breath brush across me. Having me pinned to the ground, I didn't have much of an option and knew I needed a weapon for close-quarters combat. With what little space I had to move, I hovered my hand above my sheath, searching for my sword only to find that I had failed to bring the weapon with me this journey. Cursing myself, I pulled Krestian free of his sheath with little other option, and plunged him into the brute's stomach, drawing the blade down. Yellow blood flooded from the wound, drowning me.