Some Of My Work:)

[DigitalRescue 4]

It's a bit dark, but here you go. Wrote this for a short story competition for the West Midlands and came 7th.

 

"They're running around like headless chickens, searching for us.



"They've escaped! The prisoners have escaped! Find them!" Their
Captain is a fool, an idiot, blinded by drink, gold and women. He's
being uncommonly cruel to his men tonight - understandable, if it wasn't
his fault.



He's infuriated, that much is obvious from a league and a half away. It
looks like he's rallying some men for a search party. It seems he's
already assumed that we are not in the compound, so he's bringing the
dogs as well. Some soldiers are half asleep, fumbling with their tunics
or leaning on their halberds - trying to catch a few winks. Others are
in hysterics, scared and confused that their dangerous but weak
prisoners have got out of their strong steel confinements.



The search party is coming towards us. Looks like the dogs have picked
up our scent, and are leading the men straight to us - into the swamps.
They walk right over us, as planned, and are lead deeper and deeper into
the murky waters. We wait for the water to rise to their shins, thighs,
waists, chests and then finally their shoulders before we strike. We
take out the men at the front and back first, stabbing and strangling,
drowning and biting. The lanterns go under, and the marsh is left in
complete darkness. Unfortunately for them, so are the men in the middle.



I see my first target, and quickly swim towards him. I open my eyes
under the water, feeling the pleasant but shocking sting engulfing my
sockets. I grab him by the ankle, pulling him deep down... further,
further and further until I see the white in his eyes dim and the panic
in his body lessen. In his last moments, he's realizing the mistakes he
made: following an incompetent and inexperienced leader into little
known lands; favoring protection over survivability by refusing to take
his armor off; and regretting the fact he has no chance in killing the
thing that has just killed him. Then, finally, the panic kicks back in,
and his arms flail before he finally sinks to the deep, thick weeds. I
swim back up, a dagger in my mouth, for my next victim. By now there are
little more then ten soldiers left, one by one vanishing with little
more than a gurgle. I swim to a large man (that is struggling to swim,
nevermind fight), and quickly cut jagged slits in his throat, listening
to the panic and fright in his thoughts. In a second I am done, leaving
the broad man to seek peace in the crevasses of the water.



There are three left. I swim closer. One vanishes - the last thing seen
of him is his hand reaching skyward from the surface of the water.
Another tries to grab for him, only for one of us to jump on him and
stab wildly. There is one left. Bodies of some lighter armored guards
float around him. I can feel the panic coming from him, then the area
around him turns red as he gets angry over the failure of his men. I
swim slowly now. I'm in no rush. I see three or four other ripples
heading towards him. To my left, one of ours is biting on the insides of
a dead dog. I can hardly blame him. We've been starved for two weeks,
nothing but crumbs to fight over and horrible liquor drank by the
Westerners to share. Just looking at potential food gets me hungry, but I
quickly snap my self out of it and turn towards our last target.



Ten feet away now. Seven. Five. Two.



I hear a horrible snap and a whizz, as a crossbow bolt skims my ear. I
look to the banks and see a group of men firing volleys into the water
blindly. More arrows plunge into the water. I swim under, trying to get
as deep as I can. I reach the weeds and look up. I see shaggy haired,
skinny and naked shapes writhing, before their blood taints the cool
water around them. One boy is hit - not much older than seven at least -
and he floats to the top despite his desperate attempts to dive deeper.
He spasms and wriggles as he is hit three, four, five and more times.
Tears come from my eyes, disappearing in the water around me. I see some
of ours make it to the weeds and plants. I quickly count. Three, four
including me, survived. I turn my head and dive to the fat man with the
cut throat. I rip his coin purse from a string to his belt and swim off,
clenching my fist around the handle of my makeshift knife.



We escaped with forty-three.

We left with four.



They started with 89.

They escaped with one.



That one, will go on and tell stories about the 'Palude Fantasma'.

We are Draugr. We are secret."

 

[Dr. Ducky-D 277]

Personally, it's hard for me to get into posts like this, long and packed... but it kept my attention and was quite interesting! Awesome read, I loved the style and attention to detail. Good job to you and keep it up!

[Knox213 10]

Moved to the Archive. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.