Standing across from him, bathed in the pale moonlight, was a grotesque creature. It was no taller than a man, but its hunched posture and thick, muscular legs made it appear surprisingly menacing. Its skin was a sickly green, covered in warts and boils. A cruel smile stretched across its wide, toothy maw, revealing needle-like fangs. In its bony hands, the creature clutched a wickedly curved dagger, a long, barbed spear, and a crude but menacing shortbow. An ornate quiver, filled with mismatched arrows, hung over its bony shoulder. Only then, with every horrifying detail solidifying in his mind. He thought that these creatures could only be seen as fictions in movies or anime.
But the horrifying truth dawned on Ivan - it was a goblin. “This is bullshit! What is this thing doing here?!”
Ivan glanced at them, “Who are you? Are you pulling some kind of pranks on me?!” Ivan shouted at them but those creatures kept moving toward him, “ONE MORE STEP AND I’LL SHOOT!” Ivan held his rifle tightly and shook it to indicate that he was definitely going to shoot.
The goblins stopped, the one in front with a hideously wide grin that stretched from ear to ear, revealing jagged teeth dripping with saliva. Goblin reached behind its back, the movement slow and deliberate. Ivan's eyes widened in terror. Ivan quickly took a step to gain distance from that goblin. But the goblin remains unfazed.
Then, Ivan’s eyes widened in terror, his breath catching in his throat and his body froze cold. As the goblin reveals that it has severed a human's arm. Blood is still leaking from that arm indicating it's just freshly cut. A primal scream tore from Ivan's throat. "He-hey- what- put it down!" But the goblin ignored him, sinking its yellowed fangs into the flesh and tearing with a sickening crunch.
Ivan eyes gaze lost in nightmare as that creature eating it so intensely. “STOP IT! PUT IT DOWN NOW!” His voice started breaking in fear. Then… the goblin, with only hand and some bone dangling on it, threw the human arm in front of Ivan and it landed in front of his foot. Ivan still couldn’t believe what he was seeing right now.
Then the goblin, showing its dagger and its mouth with still red blood on it, started speaking in a voice that rasped like sandpaper on flesh. "Hu-man. Del..icious.." The words were broken, but the meaning was horrifyingly clear.
With that, Ivan’s tension reached its peak. “YOU FUCKER!!!”
“RAARRGHHH!” The goblins' cries cut through the forest’s natural serenity, setting the stage for their assault. As one leaped at him, Ivan’s response was immediate and fluid—a powerful roundhouse kick sent the creature tumbling back to the earth. He was surrounded, a relentless tide of green skin and bared teeth, their grotesque features twisted in malice.
Behind him, a spear-wielding goblin charged. Ivan dodged to the left with a swift sidestep, his hands shoving the creature away with such force that it staggered backwards, off-balance and momentarily confused. Ivan raised his SCAR rifle, his hesitation visible in the brief stillness that hung in the air. As the goblins converged on him, he discharged the weapon just as a blade whistled dangerously close to his skin.
The rifle roared, shattering the quiet of the forest as a bullet found its mark, and a goblin was flung backwards, its comrades recoiling at the sound. Yet, their hesitation lasted for a moment before they resumed their attack with increased ferocity.
Another goblin lunged from the front, dagger poised to strike midair. Trapped and unable to sidestep, Ivan rolled forward directly towards the threat. The goblin, thrown off by his movement, landed awkwardly. Ivan, now crouched, spun around and fired—a clean, fatal shot.
A goblin with an axe crept up behind him, ready to cleave him in two. With a swift, low spin sweep kick, Ivan knocked the creature off its feet, then executed it with a close-range shot to the head.
As he caught his breath, Ivan sensed an impending strike. In a heartbeat, he flung himself backward, his back hitting the ground as goblins swooped towards where he had just stood. Lying prone, he swung his rifle toward his former position and flipped the selector switch to full automatic. Holding down the trigger, Ivan unleashed a furious barrage, shredding the air with bullets that mowed down the attacking goblins.
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From his right, a goblin rapidly thrusts its spear towards the ground where he lay. Rolling sideways, Ivan collided with another goblin, its face still contorted in a malice grin. Rage surged within him at the sight, and as the creature raised its weapon to strike, Ivan grasped its leg, hoisting it aloft and hurling it toward its comrade. The thrown goblin impaled by its ally with a sickening crunch.
Then suddenly a fierce goblin, powered by a strange, mystical aura that Ivan couldn't quite understand, hurled its spear with the speed of lightning. Ivan's rapid reflexes saved him, though the spear grazed his body armor, its force enough to shatter trees in its path, splintering wood and scattering debris in a stark display of raw power.
The mix of fear, shock, and disbelief churned inside Ivan as he redirected his gaze back to his attacker. To his horror, the goblin had closed the distance between them, its fist cocked back, ready to deliver a crushing blow. With quick thinking, Ivan parried the punch with his rifle, sending the goblin reeling backwards.
Ivan's heart hammered against his ribcage, his breath coming in sharp gasps. He knew he had narrowly escaped a potentially fatal blow. But the goblin wasn't finished yet. Seizing a club from another goblin, it charged at Ivan with abnormal speed, slashing upward in a vicious arc. Ivan managed to block the strike with his rifle, but the force knocked the weapon from his hands, sending it clattering away.
Stunned, Ivan stared down the goblin, which now glowed with a menacing azure aura, its eyes bulging with a crimson ferocity that spoke of unchecked rage. The creature's body had swollen with muscle, and Ivan couldn't help but fixate on its grotesque, grinning face—a smile that seemed utterly out of place amid the violence.
"Why do these creatures always smile? I've slain many of their kind, yet still it grins. Does it not care for its fallen comrades, or is it merely driven by a blind lust for blood? I don't understand..." Ivan muttered to himself, his fury building. "But that's what I despise most, that damn smile... I'M GONNA ERASE THAT SMILE OF YOURS AND TURN IT INTO AGONY!" he roared.
With his rifle out of reach, Ivan unsheathed his military knife. Though it would have been wiser to draw his sidearm, his anger dictated a more personal, painful retribution. As the goblin swung its club horizontally, Ivan dodged to the side and countered with a series of rapid slashes to the creature's exposed abdomen.
The goblin howled in agony, raising its club for another strike. But Ivan was quicker, sliding behind the creature and slashing it again. As the goblin spun around to retaliate, Ivan ducked and swept at its legs, severing its right leg with a precise cut.
Despite its severe injuries, the goblin tried to attack again, but Ivan was ready. As it lunged forward, Ivan's knife was positioned to cut upward, severing the goblin's arm in a spray of greenish blood that caught the moonlight.
Now crippled and disarmed, the goblin still possessed a chilling resolve to fight, its grim smile unwavering. "You're still smiling like that after what I did to you?" Ivan said coldly, disgusted and bewildered by the creature's tenacity.
Just as Ivan was about to deliver the final blow, another goblin leaped at him from behind. Instinctively, Ivan spun around to face the new threat, but the injured goblin saw its chance to attack. Not missing a beat, Ivan caught the leaping goblin and turned, forcing the ferocious creature to bite its own ally instead.
As Ivan stared down the quivering goblin, his voice dripped with venom. "What does it taste like, eating your own disgusting kind, huh?" His words were a cruel sneer, and his gaze bore into the goblin with malevolent intensity.
The other goblins, driven by a primal urge for vengeance, lunged toward him in a frenzied attack. Without diverting his attention from the subdued leader, Ivan drew his Glock 18. His hand steady, he fired at the advancing horde, relying on instinct and training rather than sight. Each shot found its mark, punctuating the night with sharp reports as goblin bodies thudded to the ground.
The leader goblin, its mouth finally free from the flesh of its comrade, no longer bore its unnerving grin. Instead, its teeth were gritted in pain and fear, its eyes wide and trembling with a newfound expression of terror.
"So, you can show something other than that revolting grin," Ivan noted coldly, pressing the blade of his knife against the creature's throat. The moonlight glinted off the silvery blade and reflected in the goblin's yellowish teeth. "As expected, your smile really is unbearable."
With a swift motion, Ivan ended the goblin's misery, slashing across its mouth. The sound of the leader's demise caused the remaining goblins to howl in anguish, their cries echoing through the forest as a call for revenge. But Ivan's eyes darkened further.
He climbed atop the tank and took position behind the mounted M3 50.cal machine gun. Cocking the gun with a decisive snap, he aimed at the circle of goblins that still surrounded him. The goblins froze, unsure of Ivan's next move, until his thumbs pressed down on the trigger.
Hell was unleashed in a torrent of bullets. The forest is illuminated by red tracers and bright muzzle flash. Heavy rounds, each 12.7mm in diameter, tore through the goblins' bodies with ruthless efficiency. Arms, legs, and entrails were thrown into the air in a gruesome ballet of destruction as Ivan swept the machine gun across the horde, nearly completing a full 360-degree turn.
The goblins experienced a terror like no other, a nightmare brought to life by the relentless fury of human vengeance. Some tried to flee, but they were quickly cut down, their attempts to escape futile against the sweeping fire. Greenish blood painted the forest floor.
As the gunfire ceased and silence reclaimed the night, Ivan's shoulders slumped, the adrenaline that had fueled his relentless assault ebbing away. The machine gun barrel smoked from the rapid firing, adding a sulfurous tinge to the already putrid smell of goblin blood that filled the air.
Exhausted and breathless, Ivan dropped to his knees. Using his trembling hands, he wiped the cold sweat from his brow. He suddenly recalled his first actual close-quarter combat when enemy infantry broke through their trenches—the visceral feeling of killing someone eye to eye, using his own hands.