Saturday, January 11, 2014

A dark blade

The snarling voice I hear behind me is almost unrecognizable as words. I spin quickly, bringing my dagger up. I hear a boisterous laugh as my fingers tighten about my blade's hilt. Would that I now have taken a proper sword on this adventure. What now stands before me, I have never seen the like.

"Leave this place," I challenge. I feel the heat from the embers upon my leg as I stand firm beside the flames. My senses are exploding at the visceral emotions welling up within. Again a guttural laugh replies to my words.

"You are alone in this darkness."

I struggle to understand the words spat at me. It is a voice that sounds like rocks tumbling down a hill during a thunderstorm. Never before has my skin crawled with fear as it does now. I feel the sweat boiling from my pores, soaking my clothing from beneath. My hand is so tight around my blade, I feel my fingertips may rupture.

I step back again as he raises his blade. His form nearly doubles my height, though he is slender, nearly wraith-like, yet I do not doubt his manner. He is dark and foreboding, the dancing light giving subtle definitions to his shape. I step back yet again as he steps forward, the blade he wields dark, even by the fire's glow.

"You should not be here," the voice crackles. "This is my place."

"I shall go where I go." I am surprised by my sudden surge of vigor in the face of the unknown, before darkness that tests my nerve. My feet step forward without my consent, refuting the intimidation that crawls upon me.

Another laugh from the darkness presses my ear. We are not alone, yet perhaps, I am.

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