Standing in the heart of that black moment, Nick knew his time was up. That the redfang hunters had begun to prowl, and their assault would begin any second. Sure enough, he felt a gust of wind brush past his shoulder before something sharp hit the back of his left hand, slicing into his flesh, and sending a jolt of terror arcing down his spine.
Realizing that he was being targeted by some manner of ranged attack, and that his vital points were critically exposed, Nick sat down fast. He moved his knees in front of his head to guard his eyes and throat. He pulled his durable leather jacket over his head and ducked behind his backpack, buying time while he tried to figure out some way out of this mess.
Calm down, Nick. Breathe. Think. Another missile hit him in the temple, resulting in a white flash although the leather absorbed most of the shock.
Ranged attacks. Cutting edge, but not heavy enough to pack much of a punch, he analyzed the strikes pummeling his pack and jacket. Whatever is out there should decide that this approach isn’t working before long. I should assume that it knows I’m blind and stationary. The redfang will close the distance soon, then switch to melee attacks to strike my vitals or drown me in the bog.
As another half-dozen projectiles impacted his armor in the span of as many seconds, he unsheathed his wand and held it in front of him, finger on the trigger. The thunder of his own heartbeat booming in his ears. His sword wasn’t going to do him any good while fighting blind, but his wand had a wider spread and a longer reach.
Nick knew that he needed to get up and move. If he sat still long enough to let his opponent land a premeditated blow, he would wind up taking a critical wound sooner rather than later. Firing his wand while blind was a longshot at best. He needed to come up with a better plan before it was too late.
The problem was, he wasn’t sure which way he should go, and one wrong step would send him straight into the water, a lethal outcome under the circumstances. His only option was to rely on his visualization, but it wasn’t going to cut it in its present state.
While part of him remained poised to pull the trigger the instant that he had a target, the rest of his mind raced to even the odds. It began correcting the defects in his mental map, so that he could use it to make good on his escape.
He wrestled with his imagination, forcing aside visions of monsters slithering up to eat him as he called his recent memories to the forefront of his mind’s eye. The ground and features that he had observed while walking along the marsh. Set against the inky blackness, Nick redrew the contour of the waterline. The rise and fall of the long fingers of earth as they wound their way across the bog.
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To his surprise, the effort made a considerable difference. The map he had overlaid upon the blackmist shifted and grew more detailed. Gaining resolution with each iteration like a computer rendering a complex landscape, until everything was crystal clear. The overlay was so crisp, so real, that it felt like Nick was in a waking dream. Or maybe an augmented reality program created by his own brain was a better description.
Seeing without his eyes was incredible enough to make him forget his predicament, at least for half a heartbeat. But as his jaw dropped in wonder, something heavy landed right in front of him.
It released a visceral thud that Nick could feel through his boots, reminding him that his newfound ability couldn’t help him track moving objects.
He didn’t have time to hesitate, the time for action had arrived. It was time to go all in and let the chips fall where they may.
Nick pointed the wand straight ahead and fired. Then he raised his aim and fired again.
At least one of the shots must have connected, striking his opponent from pointblank range. He heard a distorted squawk and then a great splash, as the creature flew back before falling into the water.
The redfang hunter let out a furious shriek, beating its leathery wings as it climbed back onto the shore and then took to the air once more. While the creature was recovering from the unexpected attack, Nick rose from his jacket and ran for his life, following the course he had chosen while he was refining his mental map.
He sprinted across the bog, with only the vision he had conjured to guide his feet, praying that it was enough to stay one step ahead of his unseen assailant. That more weren’t on the way.
While this new application of his imagination was amazing, it was terrifying to trust it with his life. If Nick fucked up a single detail. If he got turned around and misjudged the direction he was facing, the bog was more than capable of claiming his life on its own. Although the redfang hunters would be more than happy to lend a hand. Don’t think about what might happen, just focus on the here and now. You have to keep moving until the blackmist passes you by, hopefully taking the redfang with it.
Nick called upon his arctic clarity, allowing the chill to bury his fear and all other distractions. The worry that if he lost track of his position, misremembered the lay of the land or ran into an obstruction he had overlooked, he would break his own neck, serving himself up to the redfangs or another horror lurking in the marsh.
Not that he had any choice but to run as fast as he could and hope for the best. Trying to fight in the sight-reaving fog was a recipe for disaster. He was lucky that things had worked out thus far, but luck was a fickle mistress at the best of times. A truth that was driven home only thirty seconds later.
After a blessed but dishearteningly brief moment of respite, he heard the creature call out from above, followed by a second coming from behind.