The Last 100 – Ch.11
I walked through the bush on auto-pilot, my mind still awash wish new problems, existential and otherwise. I was focused on my connection with Wilhelm, following the thin trail with a blind trust, put into a trance by the oddly hypnotic sound of both my feet and the rain against the verdant carpet of leaf litter.
I was so lost at that moment that I walked straight into a clearing, my eyes still locked on issues millions of miles away only to brought back to reality by the viscous, low growl coming out of Wilhelm’s throat. My eyes came back into focus, scanning the scene curiously at first and then more frantically as panic wormed its way into my mind.
We stood in a clearing, Wilhelm on far side, the side of the trees, he had dropped low to the ground, his ears flattened against his head. From our connection I could feel how he bristled, how his muscles contracted like a spring, ready to rocket him in a storm of fury toward his enemies.
On the opposite side of the clearing were two of the grey creatures, they stood at about the height of a tall child, with the physical proportions to match. Long elfin ears speared off of their heads, and large, expressive yellow eyes were sunken deep into their skulls.
They carried with them make shift spears, tips blackened by fire and scraped into a wicked point, both levelled at Wilhelm. And me, I stood in between the two parties, just realising now that I had walked right into a Mexican style stand off between two sides better armed and more prepared than I. My hand groped unconsciously for my axe.
I turned to the grey creatures, not wanting to show any sign of weakness that might provoke a charge, raising shacking hands placatingly I began to slowly retreat to Wilhelm, feeling how his muscles softened almost imperceptibly as I approached, he seemed reassured by my presence. Me too buddy, me too.
One of the grey creatures barked a guttural sound at me and I froze in my tracks, he began to gesture wildly around with his spear, dropping low and then jumping up high, thrusting his crotch wildly into the air whilst letting out a keening scream. Some kind of war dance? My mind racked itself for answers, the closest parallel I could draw being to the haka.
The other one, the smaller of the two gripped his spear more tightly as this went on, I watched grimly as his breath became more and more laboured, they both dropped low at the end, banging spears against their chests. Definitely a war dance. Throughout all of this the rain kept pelting down, a dreary back drop to the confrontation.
What happened next seemed to go in slow motion, the rain falling to a crawl as all of the parties, bar me, exploded into action. With one final, violent thrust of his hips the larger grey… Thing, dropped his spear point low and charged toward Wilhelm, screaming bloody murder at the top of his lungs. Wilhelm charged to meet him, a blur of barking, violence and teeth.
The smaller one came toward me, running at full tilt, I only managed to pull my attention away from the far more impressive fight to my left in time to dodge just slightly out of the path of the inky black point. The spear sailed past my right cheek, hitting my face with a rush of wind which puckered my arse. The moderately sized creature crashed into me, a slave to the momentum of his thrust he hit my chest with his shoulder sending us to the ground in a hellish tangle of limbs.
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Normally I would have been able to hold my ground, not through skill but by the sheer weight and size difference alone. But due to my unpreparedness I was sent tumbling and off balance, the creature managing to land on top of the pile.
The beast pulled a small flint knife from a twine belt at its waist and began trying to force the small, sharp blade into my eye socked. An eye out of the corner of which I could see Wilhelm ripping the throat out of his opponent in a spray of viscera and hate.
I remembered being able to command him telepathically in my panic, as my arms fought against bad positioning as they tried to force the blade back upward to no avail, they were squished awkwardly against my chest and I wasn’t able to get any leverage. I screamed at myself for choosing intelligence.
‘Wilhelm, Kill, kill, kill it!’ I thought frantically yelling the commands at him through our telepathic link. The dog gave his assent before bounding off into the cave, barking madly. What?! stupid mut! I thought angrily as he ran into the alcove. I stared into the cold eyes of my opponent and realised no help was coming.
It was me against death, the two of us facing off, I had wanted this so badly just moments before, it would be so easy to just lay down and accept my fate. But again I choose life. I wanted to live with a burning desire I didn’t know I had. My stare could bore a hole into stone in that moment.
The knife began to descend closer to my chest with every second, my arms being pushed into progressively worse positions for directing force upward. I needed a distraction.
I chomped down onto my lip, gnawing at the soft flesh with stinging brutality, smiling slightly as the thick blood streamed into my mouth. I spat it into the creature’s eyes. A scream escaped its lips, but I paid it no mind, I used my brief moment of respite to lift my hips upward and the creature with them, finally managing to gain the upper hand I flipped our tangle, slamming the grey creature into the ground and sending the small weapon flying.
The game had changed, and I now had the upper hand. What I didn’t have however was a monopoly on dirty tricks. The beasts bit down onto my ear, hard, I felt fangs pierce through the flesh in multiple places and the only thing that kept me from crying out was the rush of adrenaline. I wrenched my head to the side in morbid silence, grimacing as I felt the flesh tear away. Lifting up my head I saw the creature swallow the lump of ear it held in its teeth, I nearly vomited.
Instead I turned my disgust into rage and slammed my head into the bridge of the beast’s nose, smiling as I felt the fragile bone snap under my force. I hit him again and again after that, sometimes with my head, other times with my fists or my elbows or with whatever I could get my fucking hands on, I pummelled the poor thing’s face long after it had stopped twitching, ceasing only when the rain had turned its skull and brains into a red stain in the mud.
Standing up I wiped the blood off my clothes and face, pawing tentatively at the gaping wound on the side of my face. The pain had not yet caught up with me. I resolved to find Wilhelm before it did. With that I walked into the cave.