Darkness: Chapter 20 - Panic

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Her heart skipped, one beat, two beats, three. It felt as it would never start beating again when at last a surge of blood left that organ, coming to a thundering chorus. The air shivered, something had burst out of the abyss.

Turn!

She rounded, pivoting her whole body in one motion, her feet leapt as all her weight was thrown into it. Landing on both she clenched her hand around the sword hilt as she took in what she saw.

Brusk was on his knees, an object protruding from his blood spurting throat as he grasped and gargled. It was a bone, sharpened and used like an axe. Vorg however was still standing, throwing a hand down to the axe at his hip and the knife at the other side only for the impossible to happen as his hands met hilts.

A shadow, a mass of black, grey flesh struck him. It could have been a limb, maybe an elbow, dug into Vorg’s throat with a sickening crunch. He choked, and staggered only for a second limb, a foot, to place itself on his abdomen.  He reeled until his feet found empty space and plummeted. He’d fallen into the dark of the hole.

What... what is...

Its skin was slick grey, a beard of matted filth and hair of oiled madness sprouted from its head. Its body was adorned with bones and body parts, skin and hide of pig, troll and Orc. In one hand it held the leg bone of some great beast, sharpened to an edge. And the smell, by all the ancestors the smell near forced her to gag, like death had spat upon a body and let it fester.

The creature turned, looking upon her with malefic emerald eyes. They burned through her, piercing like arrows. It was angry, and aiming that malice her way, tightening that grip around the weapon it held.

Raise the alarm... raise the alarm!

She tried to open her mouth, to speak, but so panic struck was she that only shocked gasps escaped her lips. Its mouth curled, revealing stained yellow teeth in a vicious growl. Tightening her grip on the sword in her hand, she looked left and right for ways to run but found the way blocked by this monster both ways. As Brusk took his final desperate gasp of blood drowned air, she realized this thing was looking at the sword. Not just noting its presence, not admiring its quality, but gazing at it as if its eyes alone could pull it away.

”Thank you..” It whispered, a voice hoarse and full of disdain, those emerald eyes lifting to stare back into hers.

She hesitated, blinking in surprise.

It speaks?

”wh-what for!?” she blurted out, hoping a response would keep it at bay.

”...For bringing me my sword.”