Of Monsters and Men, pt. 5

New to this story? Wondering what happened before? Forgot how we got here?

Well, I have a way for you to go back to the beginning of the story. You can find them here, here, here and here.

And as before… This piece is copyright Emily Rush on day of writing and publication. All rights reserved. Yada yada yada.
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A chill wind caresses his face as he looks over his shoulder. It’s almost as thought the wind was originating from a cave… one that he hadn’t noticed before in his patrolling. It was cold and feeling like stone. It had the smell of rock, blood and other odors that he couldn’t begin to describe. They all intermingled.

It was then that he noticed that the sound of the lesser beasts had silenced.

“How could I have been so careless to not notice?”, he thought as his blood started to run cold.

He heard a loud and heavy huff behind him. His eyes opened wide in recognition that he was no longer alone… and that he was noticed.

He takes a moment to control his racing thoughts. One after another, they speak of his hopes and fears, weaknesses and strengths. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, breathing in the heady odor that is this massive creature behind him.

He slowly turns around to face him.

“There you are.”, he says as calmly as he can muster.

The beast stares at him, almost as though he recognizes him. His glare is cold and menacing… and yet seems to burn with an anger that has burned for many lifetimes, how many is anyone’s guess.

In that instant, the creature rushes forward, every muscle and sinew in his body tense.

He manages to deftly jump out-of-the-way just before he would have been plowed by this beast… this behemoth of a creature. He can feel the wind and the strength as the wind rushes past him.

The creature turns around and bellows. The sound nearly freezes him to his very core. Images of towns and villages being wiped out by this creature flash in his mind. The deaths of children, parents, partners, husbands and wives burn freshly in his psyche… almost as though it happened yesterday. His passion and vigor for this fight is renewed.

He holds his lance, prepared to strike. Remembering everything that brought him to where he is today. Remembering everything that brought him to this fight.

“Come on, you son of a bitch.”, he mutters as he rares up, ready to sprint headlong at this creature.

And after a quick breath, he runs headlong at the beast. He screams with the scream of all the victims, all the pain and suffering that this creature has caused. He runs and jumps over the head of the beast, using his lance as a pole.

He lands firmly on the beasts back. Beneath his feet, he can feel the tenseness of this creatures neck and back. He can feel each muscle move as the creature moves.

He flips his lance around and gets a firm grip on the shaft. He wants to make sure that he can plunge this weapon purposefully in to this neck in front of him.