PinoyWrimos

Simon ducked behind a tree, narrowly dodging the talons’ slash, but not the powerful blast of wind that followed. He flew through the air with a shower of dirt and a cry of surprise. When he hit the ground he rolled to his feet and looked wildly for the monster. I need something. A weapon, a stick, a stone, anything! Simon thought desperately. His hands scrambled on the dirt as he tried to stand up. His pendant glowed yet again. And then a most wonderful thing happened.His hands buzzed a now familiar feeling. And then from the hole of the paw he had as a necklace, a heavy thing began to emerge. It was at first slow, a strange handle that looked like one of a sword. And then faster and faster until with a blur, it went out all the way through, tearing off his uniform away. A hole existed on his polo where the artifact now glowed conspicuously. A curious sword with a black blade lay at his feet.

He calculated. In one smooth motion, he bent to take the sword and swung it in front of him. Then he was off, running between the trees as fast as he could. Thinking he could distract the dreadful beast from attacking Isoebel, he shouted, “Hey! OVER HERE!” It was very unlike him but something about the sword gave him power. It was exhilarating and scary at the same time, an overwhelming mix of emotion.

Suddenly, the beast was upon him, its frightful speed unmatched, whipping out its arms at him, intending to slash him dead. He narrowly avoided it, his nose almost touching the creature’s arm.

At this teetered dangerously off balance, but recovered quickly, bringing his sword in front of him and then stabbing straight at whatever lay before him. He stabbed at nothing but air. The monster evaded it with ease and then came at him again just as fast.

With a roar, the creature swung its arm. Simon blocked it just in time, surprised at how he did it. The beast attacked again, and again, and each time Simon barely blocked it, stepping back to escape the incredibly tough arm of the beast. The creature was not holding back on anything as it hammered into him. Simon’s nose flared in anger; it was time he did the same.

He narrowed his eyes and began to drive the creature back. It was the pure knowledge that he had a pendant that seemed to spout magic and gave him bravery, and then of course the adrenaline that gave him strength. He half felt that he was not thinking right anymore as he yelled and slashed blindly at the creature. The monster seemed surprised and fell back before remounting its own attack.

They exchanged blow for blow as they circled each other among the trees. They dipped and wove in a twisted parody of a dance, and their spirits nearly glowed.

Simon almost slipped on a tree root, almost meeting death with a swing of the monster’s arm. Its side crashed on his head and he felt blood spurting off his nose and his wounded temples. Isoebel screamed and Simon’s attention instantly wavered, and the creature, taking the opportunity, slashed his left arm. The monster got a quick stab as a response from an enraged Simon, and it retreated to a neutral distance to rest from the spar and awaits Simon’s attack, taunting him.

He’d had enough of this. He was fast tiring out from this fight and he feared that his fleeting bravery might end soon. He felt the need to attack now or regret it later. The evening breeze made him shiver as he clutched his wound. Simon felt cowardice all of a sudden.

Almost immediately, he turned and started to run round the tree to the other side, but the creature slid into his path. Simon dodged, but it roared stopping him dead in his tracks.

“Die you devil!” he desperately cried, slashing it out of his way, but the creature would not be so easily deflected. They clashed with each other again, the monster with its arm and Simon with his black sword. Simon attacked with such fervor to live, his spirits instantly renewed, that soon he caught the monster off-guard and stung it with a wound, his very first.

The monster grunted. It evaded Simon’s next few swipes of the sword, but it was thrown off balance and fell.

With his path clear, Simon turned to run, to where the others were, but the creature leaped to its feet, whipping out its arms skyward and snapping its wings open. He tensed his muscles as he gripped his sword even more tightly. There was a moment when even the leaves on the trees were still as Simon and the creature stared each other down.

Then they were flying at each other, moving twice as fast as before in a flurry of weapons, Simon’s black sword against the creature’s thick, razor-sharp wings. For a few fleeting moments it felt like he was fighting with a demon himself, and he probably was. But it was not what truly amazed him. It was how he swung fiercely and parried with the creature that gave him bewilderment. How could I fight with such fury… such skill? Has this been always inside me? He began to beat the monster back as his attacks became faster and focused.

Finally, with an economy of a movement, the creature stuck its foot out, sweeping Simon’s feet out from under him, and held the edge of a wing to his throat. The breath knocked out of him, he dropped his sword in defeat. His eyes looked fearfully at the grisly face of what would soon become his murderer. His lips trembled and his tears flowed freely, unashamed.

The monster’s wing dug deep and he gagged at his own blood which was pouring copiously from his throat. The wing dug even deeper and he squirmed in complete agony that unbearably builded up inside him. It was a thousand painful experiences and he prayed finally that he die soon. Be merciful, demon. Take me out swiftly, he pleaded silently, closing his eyes in submission. The thought of fields that lay beyond slowly filled his mind and made him numb ever so slowly… peacefully…