The Nighen, an unnatural
creature spawned of evil, consumed and murdered all along the western
providence for the weeks after the emergence of Chaos. Its appetite had grown
astronomically since its birth.
The blood moon of Chaos drove it
forward.
Swollen clouds drifted lazily
overhead. Bruised and disfigured skies threatened to drench the land in
rain and storm, something in which the slowly-aging hills would find great
comfort. The mixture of deep shadow and moonlight allowed the cloaked
figure to move through the dense forest unnoticed––his hood wrapped tightly
and his decadent robes drifting out behind him.
He hummed quietly. Along his
back was the outline of a sheath, the blade hidden. The moon made a
kaleidoscope of images across the paths of the forest, and the man moved
through them. His figure melded and conformed to the bizarre shapes. His
features were hidden beneath the hood, the bitter winds that periodically
slapped against his frame could not loosen the bond the cloak held over
him.
The forest around him shifted in
the winds. Branches scraped against one another. The gales howled, creating
sounds in the night far more morose than the ones that truly haunted the
rich shrubbery. The man did not hesitate as he walked, not even when the
unnatural sounds of forest silenced and the low, throaty growl of a night
terror emanated from beside him.
Amber eyes were translucent in
the darkness. The lack of iris was eerie as if shifted, watching the man
move past its vantage point. The creature groaned loudly and stood. Scaly
claws dug deep into the already-frozen earth as it moved forward in leaps.
It hit hard upon the ground, shaking the earth as it rose from a crouch.
The man’s pace quickened now. He
moved with renewed speed, head lowered. The blade upon his back protruded
from his hunched frame like a sore that had grown from his spine.
The creature moved alongside
him, the crashing sounds as it charged through the forest thunderous. The
man threw back the tight folds of his cloak and moved with the grace of a
practiced runner. His shoulder-length hair emerged from beneath the hood,
cascading off his back.
The creature ran on all four
limbs, end over end like a feral animal. Its breathing was ragged and
intense. Cold air exhaled from his nostrils as it charged after the
dexterous man dodging through the forest.
He jumped over a dislodged
collection of roots, and then spun past a tree that stood directly in his
path as he landed. The creature just slammed its gigantic horned frame into
the trees, splintering the wood and knocking them from its path.
The forest ended abruptly. The
thick mass of roots and trees disappeared from sight. The sheet of grass, stained
brown, extended for a few feet until it ended in a monumental plunge to the
canyons and plains below. The man skidded to a stop and threw back his
cloak, drawing his blade from around his back.
The hilt of the sword was cast
in ivory––the pearly construction was crafted like a dragon’s head. Its
guard was formed of the beast’s hellish wings, the spiraling, sinewy
protrusions spreading symmetrically on each side.
His brown hair was thrown across
his face, hiding his cold blue eyes buried behind sleep-deprived circles. A
beard carved his jaw line, his lips drawn tight in apprehension. The winds
tore at his frame, the fold of his cloak whipping like tendrils in the cold
gales.
The creature emerged from the
forest and rolled to a stop, rising on its hunches and glaring at the man.
It opened its maw, licking at exposed, rotten teeth. Black, soulless eyes
were obscured in the darkness. It tilted its head and made a thin sound,
like a bird chirping.
“Man flesh,” spoke the
creature.
The words were guttural and
strangled.
The man looked at the creature,
its shoulders rising far above him. Grayish skin covered its entire body
juxtaposed with black, spiked scales. Its arms were long like an ape. Claws
were sharpened into half the length of the sword the man wielded.
“Not much for conversation, are
you?” the warrior spoke breathlessly.
“Kill. Eat. Man flesh,” growled
the creature once again. The creature took a few steps forward.
The warrior turned his blade out
and it glistened in the half light of the moon. The flash captured the
soulless sockets of the creature. His feet parted slightly, rooting him as
he prepared to lunge. In one motion, he leapt forward. The point of his
blade sung through the air as he did so.
The creature roared. Swinging one
of its massive claws across the front of its frame, it tried to catch the
man mid-flight as he descended. The man shifted in mid-air, his body
tightening and then rolling to the ground. His blade was tucked tight with
his body and as he landed; he lunged forward. Catching the creature across
its mammoth legs, the creature howled in pain as it reached down to block
the strike.
It glowered at the man as he
returned to his stance. His blade was held across his chest at an angle,
eyes set firmly at the throat of the beast. They circled each other, the
beast snarling and sputtering as its green puss oozed from the wound and
covered its leg.
It burned the earth beneath
them.
The creature roared––its mouth
agape, saliva glistening as it strung from fang to fang. Its stale breath
was like a fog from its mouth. The man moved forward again, the blade
slamming into the flank of the creature. Blood splattered across his cloak
and the stricken ground.
He turned as he remained
crouched beneath the haunches of the beast and drove his blade through its
chin. The creature groaned as the crack of the splintered skull echoed in
the hills. Sliding down as the man pulled his blade free, it was no more.
The creature’s face was a macabre death mask.
The warrior stood over his
prey.
The lifeless eyes of the beast
were listless, departed. He raised his blade and decapitated the creature
in one smooth movement. Reaching down, he grasped his prize: the head of
the Nighen.
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