swallowed.
The demon raised the sword in his left hand and brought it down vertically where Zeke was standing. The movement was swift, but he managed to step aside in time. The sword hit the earth harmlessly. The right-handed sword was already swinging though, and came in parallel to the ground towards his waist.
Zeke had no choice. He fell back hard, hitting the ground. The giant sword whizzed above him. The malak seemed upset.
“This is the man he chose? What a fool! Trusting the power of a mouse!”
Before he knew it, both swords were coming down towards his head. He did the one thing he could think of; he swung his sword upwards to block. Metal clanged on metal. The blows were deflected, but the malak hit strong. Zeke dropped his sword.
At least I can touch his weapons, he thought, immediately wondering whether that was really a comfort.
He soon decided it wasn ’t, as the demon thrust one sword into the earth, slashing his side open. Zeke grabbed himself in pain.
Trying to hold the blood, his life, in his body.
The ghostly monster ignored its sword and picked him up by the neck. Zeke panicked. The touch of a malak usually meant death.
But this malak seemed different. He was in control of his power.
“You are no god,” sneered the being into his face. “Know that if I wanted to, I could snap my fingers and shatter your spine.” The malak jabbed his remaining sword into the ground by the first. Then with his free hand, he drew a finger across the bloody gash. It burned in pain. Zeke smelled cauterizing flesh. His clothes became singed around the wound.
The monster threw him to the ground. He clutched at his side. It was completely healed. “You are a disappointment. You believe strength is entirely in your hands. I will give you a new objective. Become stronger or perish.” The malak pulled his swords out of the ground. In a blinding flash of light, he was gone.
Zeke sat on the ground alone and rubbed his neck.
The world was green through the rifles ’ scopes. From a second storey window, Charlie and Smalls panned the green rubble. Green monsters fought green fights and bled green blood. It was like watching twisted television.
The Un-Nature channel.
“There’s one! To your left!” said Smalls in a whispered shout.
Charlie swung his rifle, a green blur whizzing past his eye. “Which one? There are hundreds of ‘em!”
“ On top of that pile of rocks.”
He groaned. “You’re not getting this. Let’s try narrowing it down. Give me something to go on there ain’t a whole bunch of.”
Then he saw it. A slow, zombie of a draugr ambled up a pile of rocks, groping with clawless hands. At the top, another beast was waiting. The second one was small. It looked eviscerated. Skeletal. But still strong. It planted its hands behind him on the ground. It pulled its feet into the air like an un-dead monkey.
The claws on its feet tore the head off the zombie draugr.
“ That mean mother with the pedicure?” asked Charlie.
“ That’s the one.”
“ What are you giving on him?”
“ Let’s say three to one odds you can’t bring him down with one shot.”
“ You’re on.”
He put his eye to the scope. The monster was devouring its prey. A macabre, green meal. But it was relatively still. Money in the bank, he thought.
Boom!
The shot exploded in the closed quarters. It echoed off the other buildings. Charlie checked the draugr. It wasn’t moving. “Pay up!”
“ Look again, Chuck,” said Smalls, who was still watching through his own rifle.
He put his eye back to the scope. A shriveled green foot twitched. Moonlight shone brightly off the claws. “He’s down, ain’t he?”
“ Just keep watching. We’ll see.”
The monster slowly picked itself up. Dark green fluid dripped from its shoulder where an arm used to
The demon raised the sword in his left hand and brought it down vertically where Zeke was standing. The movement was swift, but he managed to step aside in time. The sword hit the earth harmlessly. The right-handed sword was already swinging though, and came in parallel to the ground towards his waist.
Zeke had no choice. He fell back hard, hitting the ground. The giant sword whizzed above him. The malak seemed upset.
“This is the man he chose? What a fool! Trusting the power of a mouse!”
Before he knew it, both swords were coming down towards his head. He did the one thing he could think of; he swung his sword upwards to block. Metal clanged on metal. The blows were deflected, but the malak hit strong. Zeke dropped his sword.
At least I can touch his weapons, he thought, immediately wondering whether that was really a comfort.
He soon decided it wasn ’t, as the demon thrust one sword into the earth, slashing his side open. Zeke grabbed himself in pain.
Trying to hold the blood, his life, in his body.
The ghostly monster ignored its sword and picked him up by the neck. Zeke panicked. The touch of a malak usually meant death.
But this malak seemed different. He was in control of his power.
“You are no god,” sneered the being into his face. “Know that if I wanted to, I could snap my fingers and shatter your spine.” The malak jabbed his remaining sword into the ground by the first. Then with his free hand, he drew a finger across the bloody gash. It burned in pain. Zeke smelled cauterizing flesh. His clothes became singed around the wound.
The monster threw him to the ground. He clutched at his side. It was completely healed. “You are a disappointment. You believe strength is entirely in your hands. I will give you a new objective. Become stronger or perish.” The malak pulled his swords out of the ground. In a blinding flash of light, he was gone.
Zeke sat on the ground alone and rubbed his neck.
The world was green through the rifles ’ scopes. From a second storey window, Charlie and Smalls panned the green rubble. Green monsters fought green fights and bled green blood. It was like watching twisted television.
The Un-Nature channel.
“There’s one! To your left!” said Smalls in a whispered shout.
Charlie swung his rifle, a green blur whizzing past his eye. “Which one? There are hundreds of ‘em!”
“ On top of that pile of rocks.”
He groaned. “You’re not getting this. Let’s try narrowing it down. Give me something to go on there ain’t a whole bunch of.”
Then he saw it. A slow, zombie of a draugr ambled up a pile of rocks, groping with clawless hands. At the top, another beast was waiting. The second one was small. It looked eviscerated. Skeletal. But still strong. It planted its hands behind him on the ground. It pulled its feet into the air like an un-dead monkey.
The claws on its feet tore the head off the zombie draugr.
“ That mean mother with the pedicure?” asked Charlie.
“ That’s the one.”
“ What are you giving on him?”
“ Let’s say three to one odds you can’t bring him down with one shot.”
“ You’re on.”
He put his eye to the scope. The monster was devouring its prey. A macabre, green meal. But it was relatively still. Money in the bank, he thought.
Boom!
The shot exploded in the closed quarters. It echoed off the other buildings. Charlie checked the draugr. It wasn’t moving. “Pay up!”
“ Look again, Chuck,” said Smalls, who was still watching through his own rifle.
He put his eye back to the scope. A shriveled green foot twitched. Moonlight shone brightly off the claws. “He’s down, ain’t he?”
“ Just keep watching. We’ll see.”
The monster slowly picked itself up. Dark green fluid dripped from its shoulder where an arm used to