The sky gently whistled, the air was hazy and the clouds were pushed along by the limp hand of a god long forgotten. Alesha Karawetzkich sat on the dock and watched the wind turn the waves slowly. She breathed in the air, eyes closed and sat in the wind pushing her white hair behind her ear. She opened her eyes, not the wind, but something just as constant, Botezatu.
“Alex?” She asked, the man by her side was tall and pale, with blue eyes and black hair which curled just under his eyebrows. His hair swirled in the wind, as shifted the pressure slowly to his other foot.
“Yeah. That’s my name.”
Alesha laughed, stood and pushed him, “Alexandru Botezatu.”
“More like it,” He said grinning.
Alesha smiled and they stood facing each other on the pier, “So did Sheryn come back yet?” She asked, “Guessing that’s what you’re here for.”
“Yeah, there’s two confirmed anomalies in the town, one of them’s our guy, the other won’t be an issue.”
“Really? Why is he even in this general area?” Asked Alesha.
“Nobody could guess, but the guild desperately wants us to bring in everyone in the town. All of them could have information on the prodigy child and if that falls through, we still would have Clark Estman and James Walz.”
“Aren’t you serious?” Asks Alesha.
“Yes.” Replies Alex Botezatu, “You should follow suit.”
There had been six gunshots from the Mansard house and plenty of screaming to Warrant Harland and Clark to go to the door, Harland holding the Axe defensively and looking through windows while Clark casually made his laps around and looked in windows, finding nothing. Dr. Walz was at the door nailing boards over it when the two made their way back around.
“James,” Says Harland bluntly, “What’s up, Eric okay?”
“Two confirmed casualties,” James Walz leaned on the door, “One is assumed. Eric and Daverick are dead for certain and Anise is iffy.”
“Eric?” Harland’s Wavered, “The fuck? And where is your horse?”
“It killed them. This is what I’ve heard from Daverick’s wife and Eric’s daughter. However they may be wrong, it must’ve happened fast.”
“Wait, your horse killed them?” Asked Eric, “The same horse that does nothing, Marin?”
“It was petrified at the town square, wolf eyes kept it still, but something disturbed it.” James glared at Clark.
“I, how could I have? You know what. Let me go in there before you board it up. With a gun. I have a wrong to right.”
“You know, what is in there?” Asked Harland, “Maybe this is your fault.”
“I don’t care who’s fault it is, I’m a little special, I can deal with it.”
“No. You can’t, it’s far more mutated than you, you’ll never survive.” Replies James.
“Mutated?” Harland stumbled back and pointed the Lumber Axe at James.
“Besides, you aren’t even a guild hunter. You would have no idea what you are doing.”
“Who is a better option?” Asks James.
“I wanted to keep my horse alive, his infection was in stasis from the winter that never ends, and the wolf eyes that had petrified its nerves. Marin was much easier to document, when it could do nothing.”
“Alright?” Asks Harland, “Why’d you not tell us?”
“Then someone like Eric would kill it, we would lose all that data I had been working towards, a cure for the disease my own father unleashed upon this world.”
“You should kill the monsters before it’s too late,” Said Clark, “And that’s why I’m volunteering.”
“No,” Harland pleads, “This is all wrong.”
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“It’s always been all wrong,” Clark takes the axe and breaks through the glass of the front window in one swing.
“Good luck,” Says Doc Walz, gesturing to Harland to follow him back towards the tavern.
Glass lay in piles on the floor and Clark stepped through the window, bracing the axe. Estman pushed step after step deeper, past the fire of charcoal and to the edge of the barricaded bedroom. He pulled the heavy bookshelf back and opened the door, preparing for the worst. It was worse than what he expected. There was nothing there. No blood, but signs of intense struggle with upturned beds broken lamps and damaged floorboards. How was there no blood, Anise died here?
“Anise?” Asked Clark, “Marin,” he whistled after the horse’s name. Then he saw the decapitated body of the horse rubbing itself against the bedroom window, smearing across it. Clark stumbled back, it was still living. Then the closet door burst open and a fleshy mass with many tentacles stumbled across the floor, it inflated and deflated as if it was a giant lung. The ball was around the size of a bear, and the face of Eric came out from the inside and smelled the ankles of Clark. Clark stood still, debating what to do, he might get out of this fine if he does nothing. Then the ball rolled away on its tentacles to the door, the face descending back into it. One tentacle reached back and pulled the axe from Clark’s hands and slammed it through the window, climbing back to where the head of the horse should be attached. The two beings had now merged to where the neck of the horse ended. The ball of flesh and tentacles returned into the skin of the horse and the head was again visible; it now appeared to be a normal horse again. Clark stood in the window sill and stared down the horse which collapsed to the ground. Clark reached for his gun and pulled it out, aiming at the monster and shooting it repeatedly in the forehead. The animal screeched and split out from the horse’s skin, apparently now having assembled enough mass to reach a final form; swollen and broken mixes of horse and human traits erupted out. A hoof kicked Clark in the jaw, throwing him back and his jaw throbbed in and out in a matching cadence to the lungs of the monster. Blood dripped to the floor as Clark fell to his knees, he twisted and with his second revolver shot another six bullets to the hunched beast clawing at the window and climbing back in, now bent over but still towering over Clark it rushed and holding an axe with two hands, the horse-faced abomination swung the axe and it sliced open the chest and upper arms of Clark. Clark shouted from the pain and fell, holding the wounds, the monster stepped on Clark and slammed him into the ground, bruising his face. Clark pushed with all his might, but couldn’t move himself. With an explosion of buckshot the head of the horse which protruded from the horrible chest of the beast was flung off and onto the ground. Its tendrils are shot out and wrapped around Clark’s neck, compressing.
Harland climbed through the window, cocking a shotgun, “You suck at fighting.” Soon, Peter Ferguson, the son of Daverick and Louisa followed him through.
The monster swung the axe around and threw it, Harland dropped down and the axe flew straight through the chest of Peter, splattering blood on the ground and piercing the brick wall like nothing had happened. Harland kept shooting but to no avail, Clark lay limp under its foot, pushing and fighting but his face was still being shoved deeper into the floorboards. Peter, blood pooling over his hands as he pressed on the wounds, cried, “Sorry. Dad.”
Harland screamed at the futility of his gunfire, the monster picked up Clark and slammed him through the bedroom wall and into Clark’s living room.
“You,” moaned the creature through strained vocal cords, the voice seemingly coming from every hole in its torn body, the voice fades from Daverick and to that of Eric, “Will feel,” It wheezed holding the kicking Clark over the still hot coals, “What I have.” A spike was shot through Clark’s chest protruding from a wrist of one of the creature’s five arms and slammed him into the coals burning his face, Clark screamed in agony. “Harland, you aren’t helping. Please leave, evacuate,” Clark cried, being shoved deeper into the charcoal.
“I,” Coughed the animal, groaning in the voice of Eric, then into the bleat of a deer, “Am looking for,” It grabbed Clark with another arm and threw him smashing through the front door and rolling through the snow, staining it red. With incredible speed it reached him and pushed him down. Daverick Ferguson’s voice came back, “My wife.” Then a twisted smile formed on many gaps in the monster, smiling with previously unseen teeth, “We— I,” The animal now lay close to Clark’s ear, “Need to reunite with her.”
Clark groaned and punched the long red hand which held him down, “No,” He tried to gather more but was completely outmatched.
“Then I take out each of your organ, make house— I,” It paused and sputtered, shaking, “It is here. He is here.”
“The hell are you saying?” Asks Clark through grit teeth.
“If can’t have what is I require,” The monster picked up Clark and flipped him over, slamming him into the ground, “Then I will just want to make you have pain.” Its brain functions decreased as more of the monster affected the human minds that remained trapped within.
The beast with hooves and claws ripped open the rib cage of Clark. Clark lost all conscious thought as the pain paralyzed him. His bones, blood, and organs were thrown in all directions.
A giant lance punctured the chest of the monster and ran it through town, the monster was dragged through the snow as the horseman rode faster. Botezatu let go of the lance which flew through and out the other end of the monster, leaving a smoking hole in the chest, where it wouldn’t regenerate. Botezatu took out two swords of Sterling Silver, “I’m sorry, master,” He mutters, “But Eric is gone, it is time for me to make this final.”
Alexandru ran forward slicing the neck and ankles of the creature, kicking it as its long fingernails failed to grace his face. Alexandru sliced off the attacking arm and rolled away from another stumbling swing which sent snow flying. Alex ran and swung his blade in an arc, separating three limbs from the elbow down. The monster writhed and hissed as it dragged on the ground with one arm. Botezatu opened a vial of holy water and poured it onto the monstrosity which shriveled into a husk and hardened into gray inanimate scales.
“Goodbye, Commander.”
