Tree_lord
Definitely not cute.
When he stood, he realized the mistake he had made. He had allowed his companions, his friends, to fall in this battle. And now, he knew how he had failed them. He had failed to leave them behind, failed to tell them to stay back in the past, and now he would pay for that mistake. His entire being was filled with anger; anger at himself, and anger at the enemy that stood before him. And before him stood the greatest enemy of them all, in fact. The greatest evil that all of man would ever know, the pure hatred that lives within all of us. He stood before none other than a being that was created by all of the evil of the world; or so he had been raised to think. He knew what it really was, but at this moment, it did not truly matter to him. Whether or not the thing in front of him thought its own actions to be just, it did not matter any longer. He truly felt a need to punish. To take the body of that which stood before him and tear it apart. He felt he had to decimate it fully, to completely render it non-existent.
But how could he enact something such as this? He truly was the weakest of them all, and as he took a step forward, he knew he had just signed himself up for the end of his own existence. He couldn’t stop now, though; it was no longer a battle for victory, anyway. It was now just a battle for him and himself alone; nobody would gain from this. In fact, nobody could. The cause of that mostly being that the head of the person who had previously been spearheading this entire act against the beast ahead was missing its body, laying on the ground by his feet. He looked down at it for a moment, remembering how cheerful it had looked before and how much happiness had seemed to emanate from it whenever it spoke. Truly a person to follow. He remembered how this other man had told himself and the others how they should live during their travels; that they should focus on helping everyone they could along the way and try to keep the curse from spreading too far. If they had known where it festered most, though, they probably would have stopped in their travels much sooner.
A black goo oozed from the location where, previously, the head had been attached to a neck. He sighed, looking back up at his foe. No matter that now; they were all dead. No sense in thinking about all of that when he had something else to focus on, to inflict pain on and to punish to the best of his own abilities. He allowed himself a moment to study the beasts looks much closer before he attempted to strike; they had been circling each other for some time now, growing ever closer with every step. It was amazing how much the beast looked like him, really. Who would have thought it would have grown so large, as well? His gaze focused more deeply on the beast’s cheek. Had he always had a scar there? Maybe it was a new one? Or did it receive that one when it was struck by that so-called magic blade earlier? It didn’t matter now, though. It mattered just as much as the pile of gore they stood on did; it simply added to the visuals.
He took the first move. Or, at least, he tried to. Surprising something that consists of hatred and pain is something that is rather difficult to do, especially when it has already seen you. No, his attempt to strike at his foe completely failed. As he swung the small, decorative blade towards the beast it had already jumped into the strike itself. It tore at his flesh with its nails, lacerating his arm as he tried to force it off. It brought one of it’s fists down to crush his head and, to even its own surprise, it connected. He had never fought before; he had hardly ever felt any will to harm anything before now. Which was why it was even more surprising to the both of them that he had, instead of dodging, opened his mouth and taken liberty to bite down on the fist as it entered. A regrettable move, but the only one he could think of at the time.
The best pulled itself backwards, off of him and onto its own legs, and took a look at its own hand with a pained and confused look. It did not long to examine this wound, though, before he had brought his foot up to collide with its face. This, of course, missed completely as it bent its own body backwards upon itself as freely as any creature lacking a spinal cord would be expected to do so. He sat up and tried to push himself up with one of his hands, trying to get some sort of proper angle of attack to attempt any sort of strike again, when it allowed its legs to slide outwards from beneath itself and into his chest. He thought for a moment about how much she had tried to get him to learn how to fight properly; telling him day in and day out that some day simply being kind to someone was not going to keep them from taking his arm with them when they left.
His head collided with solid and metallic. Of course, he remembered, that hardly mattered now. Her torso was laying on the ground behind him now, having suffered the same fate he was about to suffer. She had been the protector of the group at times; thus would be the job of such a powerful warrior. This fact hardly mattered now, though. What use was a protector without any arms. Or, for that matter, lungs?
He struggled to his feet, looking towards his foe once more. It was strange. The beast had dealt with each of his fellow adventurers easily enough, yet it stood and waited for him to strike. Almost as though it was afraid of him. No, that couldn’t be true in the slightest. It was more that it was expecting something from him. But what could it be, he wondered as he stared at the beast. It was standing now, matching his stance and staring right back at him. He didn’t have much longer to think about anything, though, as it suddenly pushed itself towards him with its legs, grabbing onto his throat as it met with him.
This would be his end; he hadn’t even been able to strike the beast once of his own accord and it had already finished the battle. He had been lucky to even be able to bite it; he knew this. And yet, he felt no satisfaction. He had come nowhere near to actually punishing the thing, and now it was crushing his throat as one would wish to crush a beast that had just killed their closest friends. With deep satisfaction.
As he let out his final breaths, he felt something that he had long since forgotten the feeling of. What did this beast have to be so satisfied about anyway? It’s not like it had lived its entire life moving from town to town, city to city trying to find somebody that would be willing to give it some small assurance of safety only to have that feeling torn away by a creature that shouldn’t have existed in the first place. It had no right to tear the hearts out of the children he had saved so long ago, to kill the one he had followed for so long by removing their head while they tried to keep it from removing the guts of the one he loved, to remove their protector’s only method of keeping it back, or to crush his own throat after doing so. No; it deserved to go right back to where it belonged, and it deserved to stay there and suffer for an eternity.
Somewhere far away, in another kingdom, in another time, a man and a woman stood side by side overlooking a metal table. Well, it wasn’t really the table they were looking at. Rather, it was what was on top of the table. There lay a child that had the eyes of the man and hair of the woman, yet the face of neither. It would have been difficult for someone so young to have collected as many scars, anyway.
“How do you think he well do?” asked the woman, turning to face the man with a crude scalpel in hand.
“Well, he should be fine now.” The man responded, not turning away from the child.
“No”, said the woman, “I mean after.”
“He will be the best thing that has ever happened to most everyone”, the man said in response.
“And after that?”
“He will try his best.” Said the man, putting a hand against the cheek of the child, “and that is all we could ever hope for.”
But how could he enact something such as this? He truly was the weakest of them all, and as he took a step forward, he knew he had just signed himself up for the end of his own existence. He couldn’t stop now, though; it was no longer a battle for victory, anyway. It was now just a battle for him and himself alone; nobody would gain from this. In fact, nobody could. The cause of that mostly being that the head of the person who had previously been spearheading this entire act against the beast ahead was missing its body, laying on the ground by his feet. He looked down at it for a moment, remembering how cheerful it had looked before and how much happiness had seemed to emanate from it whenever it spoke. Truly a person to follow. He remembered how this other man had told himself and the others how they should live during their travels; that they should focus on helping everyone they could along the way and try to keep the curse from spreading too far. If they had known where it festered most, though, they probably would have stopped in their travels much sooner.
A black goo oozed from the location where, previously, the head had been attached to a neck. He sighed, looking back up at his foe. No matter that now; they were all dead. No sense in thinking about all of that when he had something else to focus on, to inflict pain on and to punish to the best of his own abilities. He allowed himself a moment to study the beasts looks much closer before he attempted to strike; they had been circling each other for some time now, growing ever closer with every step. It was amazing how much the beast looked like him, really. Who would have thought it would have grown so large, as well? His gaze focused more deeply on the beast’s cheek. Had he always had a scar there? Maybe it was a new one? Or did it receive that one when it was struck by that so-called magic blade earlier? It didn’t matter now, though. It mattered just as much as the pile of gore they stood on did; it simply added to the visuals.
He took the first move. Or, at least, he tried to. Surprising something that consists of hatred and pain is something that is rather difficult to do, especially when it has already seen you. No, his attempt to strike at his foe completely failed. As he swung the small, decorative blade towards the beast it had already jumped into the strike itself. It tore at his flesh with its nails, lacerating his arm as he tried to force it off. It brought one of it’s fists down to crush his head and, to even its own surprise, it connected. He had never fought before; he had hardly ever felt any will to harm anything before now. Which was why it was even more surprising to the both of them that he had, instead of dodging, opened his mouth and taken liberty to bite down on the fist as it entered. A regrettable move, but the only one he could think of at the time.
The best pulled itself backwards, off of him and onto its own legs, and took a look at its own hand with a pained and confused look. It did not long to examine this wound, though, before he had brought his foot up to collide with its face. This, of course, missed completely as it bent its own body backwards upon itself as freely as any creature lacking a spinal cord would be expected to do so. He sat up and tried to push himself up with one of his hands, trying to get some sort of proper angle of attack to attempt any sort of strike again, when it allowed its legs to slide outwards from beneath itself and into his chest. He thought for a moment about how much she had tried to get him to learn how to fight properly; telling him day in and day out that some day simply being kind to someone was not going to keep them from taking his arm with them when they left.
His head collided with solid and metallic. Of course, he remembered, that hardly mattered now. Her torso was laying on the ground behind him now, having suffered the same fate he was about to suffer. She had been the protector of the group at times; thus would be the job of such a powerful warrior. This fact hardly mattered now, though. What use was a protector without any arms. Or, for that matter, lungs?
He struggled to his feet, looking towards his foe once more. It was strange. The beast had dealt with each of his fellow adventurers easily enough, yet it stood and waited for him to strike. Almost as though it was afraid of him. No, that couldn’t be true in the slightest. It was more that it was expecting something from him. But what could it be, he wondered as he stared at the beast. It was standing now, matching his stance and staring right back at him. He didn’t have much longer to think about anything, though, as it suddenly pushed itself towards him with its legs, grabbing onto his throat as it met with him.
This would be his end; he hadn’t even been able to strike the beast once of his own accord and it had already finished the battle. He had been lucky to even be able to bite it; he knew this. And yet, he felt no satisfaction. He had come nowhere near to actually punishing the thing, and now it was crushing his throat as one would wish to crush a beast that had just killed their closest friends. With deep satisfaction.
As he let out his final breaths, he felt something that he had long since forgotten the feeling of. What did this beast have to be so satisfied about anyway? It’s not like it had lived its entire life moving from town to town, city to city trying to find somebody that would be willing to give it some small assurance of safety only to have that feeling torn away by a creature that shouldn’t have existed in the first place. It had no right to tear the hearts out of the children he had saved so long ago, to kill the one he had followed for so long by removing their head while they tried to keep it from removing the guts of the one he loved, to remove their protector’s only method of keeping it back, or to crush his own throat after doing so. No; it deserved to go right back to where it belonged, and it deserved to stay there and suffer for an eternity.
Somewhere far away, in another kingdom, in another time, a man and a woman stood side by side overlooking a metal table. Well, it wasn’t really the table they were looking at. Rather, it was what was on top of the table. There lay a child that had the eyes of the man and hair of the woman, yet the face of neither. It would have been difficult for someone so young to have collected as many scars, anyway.
“How do you think he well do?” asked the woman, turning to face the man with a crude scalpel in hand.
“Well, he should be fine now.” The man responded, not turning away from the child.
“No”, said the woman, “I mean after.”
“He will be the best thing that has ever happened to most everyone”, the man said in response.
“And after that?”
“He will try his best.” Said the man, putting a hand against the cheek of the child, “and that is all we could ever hope for.”
