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The Beast

The beast tore through the city's wall like it was made of cotton.

Seven heads, each like that of a lion, peered about, exhaling fire wherever they wished.

Those soldiers below who had not yet fled from the horrible terror Dr. Yves constructed loosed arrows at the beast, but each arrow snapped and broke on the creature's shell.

It was as Garbage had told us. Dr. Yves had taken the body of the legendary tarrasque and created from its remains a beast far more terrible than anything we'd seen before. Even the Vermin and Headless Men fled from the monster.

And upon its back, in a wooden carriage without wheels or horses, right at the apex of its tortoise-like shell, rode Levanna. Clouds of black smoke swirled around her, and faces appeared in the smoke, smiling and shrieking with voices which struck down to the souls of all who heard them.

Both armies fell trampled under the monster's bear-like paws, each enormous enough to crush a cottage under just one of its toes. Houses, spires, and buildings crumbled all around the beast as it laid waste to Codul one city block at a time.

Shlomo stood in the midst of the chaos, staring up at the monster as it rampaged through Codul.

Shlomo took up a pike from one of his fallen comrades and rushed toward the seven-headed beast. All the while, men and Vermin alike were as a stream flowing against him, trying to sweep him away in their rushing tides of panic. The brave Jew swung out with his pike, brushing them aside to clear a path for himself.

Over and over, he repeated the words, "V'im ruchi g'viati, Adonai li v'lo ira."

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Which meant, "For as long as I have breath, You are with me; I will not fear."

Once he'd gotten past the swarms of fleeing people, he found himself walking over the fields of crushed bodies, their rotting meat causing his feet to stumble and slip. At first, he managed to catch himself on the pole of the pike and force himself back up. But when a Vermin snout crushed under his heel, he lost his balance and fell.

Yet, before he could hit the ground, a hand reached out and caught him, yanking him back up to his feet again. He stared up at the burned, ugly face before him.

"Fulk!" said the Jew.

Fulk had joined the fray, and like Shlomo he carried with him a pole-arm, though his was a lance. "Come on," said Fulk. "Let's slay this monster together."

Disease and disaster had made these two men from entirely different walks of life into brothers. A murderer running from God and a faithful Jew were the only living men who approached the beast that day, careful to avoid its six paws as they stamped down upon the city.

Soon, they stood under the belly of the monster, hoping it would be softer than its seemingly indestructible shell. The beast's massive body blocked out the lights of the burning city, leaving them in darkness.

Fulk produced a vial of poison from within his coat pocket and coated the tip of his spear with it.

"You think that's going to be anywhere near enough?" Shlomo asked.

"Probably not," said Fulk, the sounds of violence now distant and muffled. "But it's all I have."

Shlomo nodded and did the same to the tip of his pike. "Maybe it will be. A spider's bite is tiny, but even that little bit of venom is enough to kill a man.

"Then may these two, insignificant spiders be enough to slay the monster," said Fulk.

Knowing that they were in far greater danger near the monster's legs, they rushed toward the nearest one, letting out a fearsome war cry as they went.

With all their might, they shoved the tips of their weapons under the beast's fur and into its flesh. The sharp edges pierced as deep as they could go, and then the shafts broke in their hands.

Having done all they could, all that was left to them now was to try to stay alive, and pray that the venom was enough to end the beast.