Alastair (ManxMan)

Chapter 8: Believing or Deceiving

So Ugly Duckling and this story are ranked In fantasy. :D Good job guys lol, thanks for all the likes and comments. I really like reading you guys comments, I usually reply But I'm laughing my a** off. 

Enjoy, Finally we're getting to the scences I've been waiting for.♥

--------------------------------------------------------

My eyes scanned the dim room. The fire well lit making me only think it was fed minutes ago. The lump of fur moving slightly as it slept. And that’s how I wanted it, asleep. I wouldn’t dare to wake it, even when I couldn’t fully see what it was. But if it was the Keeper of the Key that could only mean this wasn’t going to be easy. Especially since I didn’t know where the key was.

I stood there, never moving from the spot by the steps staring at it as the questions ran through my head. How could I get the key? Where was it? What if I died just like the rest of the people who came in this room? The skulls and bones were beyond clear so..

But it had to do this for Alastair.

He needed me the most right now, so I have too.

I’ve read many folktales, fairy tales, even fantasy books. I’ve seen all the adaptations to them in movies, and plays. It I focused it wasn’t hard enough to tell where the key was. In fact that answer was quite cliche, and easy.

I moved over to the beast quietly, my breathing swelling in my throat causing it to ache. I swallowed, the bitter quietness making it sound louder than usual. My feet were pass numb that I couldn’t tell if the stone floor was cold, or warm from the fire.

The warmth of the fire hit me when I stood directly in front of the beast. It’s breathing loud and clear. The fur on the beast receding as it went down. It was weird, there were parts that looked like a man before the hair came into picture again. I stared before the body shifted, a slight forceful groan released, the hooves on its thick furry legs now seen as it stretched out. The chest and arms of a man, but the hair scattered here and there.

I bent down quietly, reaching for the battle axe as I grabbed it. I pulled back only to find this weapon heavier than usual. I couldn’t move it from the ground stably. The handle seemed to be made by some metal or iron. And I didn't have the strength to even pull just one end up.

I sighed letting it go. Stepping back some I stared at the creature. Was it really what I thought it was? It fit the description perfectly. But how did that make any sense?

For a Minotaur to be in a fairies dungeon?

But how would I even get the key? After all those folklores and Greek mythologies about them it was well known I was nothing like Theseus. I wouldn't just fight a minotaur and win. I couldn't even wield a weapon.

So lost in thought I hadn't realized the creature before me had woke. It unraveled itself quietly, its body three times over mine in both height and width. The blood red eyes glaring down at me in hunger. The battle Axe well firmed in its hand.

There were adaptations of the story where it could talk, so maybe it would understand me. "Sorry to wake you-"

And then it roared.

The hot scream of anger nearly knocking me off my feet. The weapon soon swung in its hands and I was lucky enough to have dodged it before my body was split in half.

Jingle.

My eyes went to the keys around his neck.

I can't stand always being right. I snorted to myself mental before I moved back from the beast. I just needed to keep distance-