Chapter 7: A clear path
This story may depict graphic or violent scenes. Reader discretion is advised.
The lifeless Giant falls to the ground. Grey men escape from under him as his massive body descends.
Its dull eyes no longer emit life. In a single blow, this hulk of a beast has been taken down by Stride’s newly gained strength.
If this is what Stride’s body can do instinctively, what can he do with training and experience under his belt?
“Their fear, I can feel it,” he says as he looks over his shoulder.
The surviving grey men all cower away back to their homes. Few of them remain, as most have died in Stride’s killing spree. Their murderous intent wavered the moment they faced a dangerous adversary. Their hope of retaliation was vanquished the moment the Giant fell.
Stride saved one of the grey men in particular, albeit subconsciously. His hateful eyes fall upon the grey maimed one. He walks toward it, no time to waste.
The scarred grey man tries to flee as it walks away from him, tripping over one of its kin.
“Curse you!” It shouts.
But the closer Stride gets, the harder it becomes to hide its fearful expression. Its heartbeat soars loud. The faster it beats, the faster Stride walks toward the creature.
Stride’s hand wraps around its neck as the scarred grey man tries to resist, frightened of Stride. Stride’s hardened muscles are like fighting against the bars of a steel cage. The creature cannot escape his grip.
So feeble and weak, like a twig I can snap at any moment. How could something this weak even consider hurting others in a world as dangerous as this.
“Where have you taken them?!” Stride commands.
“We do not take Frayling anywhere….” It responds.
“Do not play games with me, where are the humans, the beings you lured to this camp?” Stride replies.
“Frayling… not any-… we-trade.” It says barely able to form his words as Stride’s grip has gotten tighter out of frustration.
Stride loosens his grip
Trade?
“With whom do you trade?” he asks.
It reaches for air before answering. “They come here every seven days, to collect the Frayling… In return for protection…”
Stride immediately tightens his grip in anger. To suggest that it is all to protect themselves, whilst they laughed at him in pain.
But he stops. He must know the answer to where the other people were taken. He leans in closer.
“Who do you trade with?”
“The armies of the Mountain-Monarch…,” it says as it slowly raises its hand to the banners at the entrance.
A Monarch? He thinks to himself. The marks were somehow familiar to him, but he could not remember where he had seen them before. Undoubtedly, he would have to face them again.
“Where can I find these armies, and where can I find my people?”
“The armies reside in the Twin Peak Mountains, the Frayling must be there as well.” As he directs Stride’s attention to the two mountain tops on his right.
He continues, “We never leave these forests… The Centi-Hunters would catch us on the open plai-… auuggh”
“Enough. Are they alive?”
“They… only want… alive.” It replies, barely annunciating.
There is still a crowd that looks at him with disgust in their eyes. Even as cowards he sees their fearful intent to kill him. A group of them has been gathering stealthily during his interrogation and they approach him with care.
What Stride does not realise is that it is not out of vengeance for their fallen comrades. These creatures are too selfish for that. It is their ego that forces them to act. To kill the one who humiliated them and looked down upon them. If given the chance, they will try to kill him.
Stride cannot allow these thoughts to manifest. He has heard enough from the Scarred one.
A well of rage and adrenaline bursts into his body. His vicious grip tightens.
“Kill him” a voice commands.
Blood spurts against him as his hand empties. The decapitated body of the grey man falls to the ground.
“If you ever dare hurt one of my kind again, I will return to this camp and end it for good.”
The enraged crowd loses their will to act in that instant. They are more worried about saving their own skin than that they are angered.
“Selfish savages,” he says with a mocking tone. He walks of leaving the rest of them to live with the consequences.
One final look back reveals the remaining grey men take apart the necklace of arms. Holding their ‘trophies’ high, as their tribute to the Monarch’s armies.
But Stride has no time to wait for the armies of the Mountain Monarch to come to him. He must find the people who were maimed and captured. Before a worse fate awaits them.
“I have to save them.” he says with a determination in his voice. He heads off in the direction of the mountains where he hopes to be able to find and save the surviving humans. Where too an army awaits him, even if it is unaware of his imminent arrival.
“The Twin Peak Mountains,” he says as he looks at the valley that spans the distance between him and his destination.
An hours’ walk through the vast open plains has somewhat tempered his anger. He stops for a moment.
“The trembling won’t stop,” he utters to himself.
“As if something had removed my capacity for compassion towards any living being. All I could think of was rage and revenge, consumed as I was possessed by an overwhelming bloodthirst.”
“They deserved it no doubt, but for me to kill so easily… I have killed before in my old life, and the guilt I felt after never really washed away.”
“But now I… I feel nothing towards them.”
“And what is this voice in my head that constantly commands me to kill. Is that my new body’s doing or am I going insane?”
His journey from the open plains leads him to the entrance of a forest clouded in mist and darkness. His body tenses up, warning him about the dangers.
“This is the only way to the mountains. I do not have a choice.”
He enters.
He walks tensely through the forest, anticipating any signs of movement. His body stops mid step as the trees, the shrubbery and even the little critters that hide in the undergrowth all come to life. A stream of information enters his mind that he is now acutely aware of. However, his mind is not swamped by the invasive thought-threads as he remains capable of filtering them, and he realises something:
“The environment, everything in it… I can feel it all like a conscious presence I can understand.”
He closes his eyes as he basks in the bliss of his newfound perception of the world. It is a serene feeling of kinship with nature itself.
His tensed–up body has calmed down, his hands no longer tremble.
Instinctively, Stride reaches towards a droplet of water rolling down a leaf. He controls the droplet in the air with his fingers as if the experience is natural to him.
“Is this magic?” He says to himself dumbfounded.
*Thump Thump, Thump Thump*
The droplet falls to the ground. He is interrupted by a heartbeat. No…, there are multiple heartbeats, loud and filled with a ferocious intent. They scream at him with murderous ambition.
“Reveal yourselves!” He shouts.
Ferocious beasts come forth from the mist, climbing down the trees.
In a split second, a heartbeat pulses close by, rushing up behind him. It leaps at him with open arms, claws at the ready.
No time…
Using his two fingers, he cuts through the throat of the beast.
There is another!
As he turns, he steps out on his left foot and follows through with his left fist.
He impales the other creature that had snuck up behind him.
“That was close…”
Upon consuming their blood, he experiences a different taste from before. It feels feral, less compatible. Still, his body consumes it without question.
The creatures come out of hiding armed with sharp claws and teeth. They surround him from every direction
“There are still more of them out there, watching from the trees.” He whispers to himself.
These creatures look like the Trinabath, as depicted in books of fantasy and mythology he used to read as a child. Said to have a strong sense of hearing and smell, yet handicapped by poor vision. Despite being fiction, these critters match those descriptions to a tee.
Sadly, the story of the Trinabath was a story parents told their children to stay away from the orphans and street kids.
The Trinabath attack Stride from every direction.
Anger builds up in his body as the creatures come closer.
An onslaught ensues, as his fists rip apart his enemies’ bodies. It takes only one blow to separate their head from their body, cave in their stomach or slash them in half with a flat hand.
Their long claws and sharp teeth cut deep in his flesh. Despite his offensive prowess, his body sustains multiple injuries due to the onslaught. Regardless of feeling every piercing blow his anger increases even more and overrules any pain.
They are fast! He thinks with slight concern. On top of which there are many of them that still manage to inflict wounds to his arms and legs.
He uses their blood to recover from their attacks, at the same time he realises their blood has less regenerative properties.
I cannot let them circle around me!
He jumps off the ground and leaps forward, creating a path for himself by tearing through the Trinabath.
His hands are filled with their blood. Despite their speed, they seem unconcerned with their own safety.
Why do they attack me with such ferocity?
One of them slipped out of his sight and manages to attack him from behind.
“Aghhh,” he says as he tries to gasp for air. A sharp pain enters his spine. His arms feel ‘locked’ in place. He cannot use them to grab his attacker.
Blood seeps through his chest as the Trinabath’s claw pierces through him. The attack to his spine immobilises his arms from moving freely.
Two more Trinabath rush for him from the front. Their claws and teeth are only at fist length from his face…
With no hands to defend himself…
He spins his body as the attacking Trinabath’s claws pierce the creature on his back. As they tear him open, Stride uses the opportunity to fling it off his back.
The attacking Trinabath are taken aback by hurting their own. He turns his body toward them as the feeling in his arms has returned…
His fist lands and blows the head of one Trinabath.
He follows up his attack by sweeping his arm through the other Trinabath’s body.
As his wounds heal, he sees the remaining few Trinabath turn and creep away back into the forest, hiding amongst the trees.
Just as fast as they had forged the attack, they seemingly disappear into the thick fog.
He stands atop the corpses of the Trinabath as his body regenerates. A feeling of uneasiness resides.
Wild beasts would never hunt like this, for a predator even a small injury would mean death or exile. But these creatures all died… for what purpose?
Their assault at him felt sacrificial, as if they tried to do as much damage in the process before death.
This battle is not over yet. I can feel it.
A ferocious presence still lingers.
“Show yourself, I know you are out there!”
SHIIIIING
A monstrous circular blade makes its appearance onto the battlefield…
Swiftly followed by its carrier.
End of chapter 7.