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Bones |
Drunken Fist
Posts: 601
Location: Hattiesburg, Mississippi
Joined: 30.07.05
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| Posted on 17-04-2006 05:17 |
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Thought I'd post my most recent short story here. This is a quickie I fired off earlier today while taking a break from a longer story. Fans of The Terrible Stranger should like it, as it is predominately a horror story. Enjoy.
BONES
?You have it,? the cloaked figure said, with thinly veiled impatience. It was not a question.
?As promised,? Kerwyn replied. He was a very thin man, almost sickly in appearance. He kept a beard in an attempt to conceal the sunken appearance of his cheeks, but their hollowness was plainly visible in the moonlight. He shivered involuntarily, and it had nothing to do with the wind that whipped around him. He was standing in front of one of the most dangerous beings who had ever existed, and he was well aware that he was but an insect to one such as this. Trying to hide his nervousness, Kerwyn reached into his satchel and removed a long object, wrapped in cloth.
?It is genuine, I assure you??
?I need no assurances. I know it is genuine, I can sense it. Your feeble human vision cannot perceive the auras of magical objects, but I can see the waves of energy emanating from it... it is even more potent than I had hoped! You have done well, my pawn.?
Kerwyn made no effort to hide the smile that spread across his gaunt face. ?You honor me, my lord. It was no easy task, penetrating the royal tombs, but I consider it a privilege to risk life and limb in your name.?
?Of course you do,? the cloaked figure said, ?of course you do. Return to your station now, ere your absence is noticed. You will hear from me again very soon.?
?I thank you, my lord. I live for the day when I may cease this charade of toiling under Randor?s rule, and join you openly. Until then, I gladly return to my quarters, as you wish.? With a dramatically exaggerated bow, Kerwyn turned and left. He turned and looked back after a moment, but the cloaked figure was already nowhere in sight.
It was a dangerous game he played, Kerwyn knew. King Randor was not a sadistic man, but the punishment for such duplicity in which Kerwyn was involved would be severe, should he be discovered. Every day he spent as one of the royal guard increased the chances of him being discovered. Such was his hatred of Randor and all his kin that he considered the risk worthwhile.
It had been nearly three decades since the seed of hatred was sown, and it had sprouted and borne bitter fruit in the years since. Kerwyn had been a child of 10 living in the village of Imana, when news spread of renewed activity in the Dark Hemisphere. The Lord of Destruction had awakened, and the forces of Snake Mountain were on the move. Every able-bodied man was needed to bolster the ranks of the Royal Army, and Kerwyn?s father was among the many who answered the call. Kerwyn was proud of his father, who rode fearlessly to Eternos to join the battle against the Lord of Destruction. Kerwyn had no fear for his father?s safety, for what child does not think his father beyond harm? Kerwyn also knew nothing of the terrible power the Royal Army would have to contend with.
He would soon learn to fear, and even respect, the power of the Enemy.
News of his father?s death in battle reached Kerwyn during the autumn, mere months after Kerwyn and his mother had parted with him. An entire garrison had met defeat in battle at Kevaniar, and all but a handful of soldiers had been slaughtered by the forces of Snake Mountain. The commanding officer had refused to retreat, convinced of victory, and so the soldiers were trapped when a horde of beast men appeared seemingly from nowhere, closing in from the rear. That commanding officer was young Captain Randor.
Randor! Kerwyn cursed the name. The young captain who received his post not because of any military skill, but because he was King Miro?s son. The man whose pigheaded refusal to recognize a certain defeat spelled death for Kerwyn?s father. This line of thought ran through Kerwyn?s mind incessantly throughout the rest of his adolescence, and on into adulthood. Already, Kerwyn had tried several times to bring doom on Randor?s head. Kerwyn was no fool; he was well aware that he did not possess the power or resources to bring down a king directly. All his efforts had involved the hiring of assassins, the indirect aid of Randor?s political enemies, the purchase of the services of various shamans and crones who promised that their spells would bring about the downfall of the king. Nothing had worked. At long last, Kerwyn decided that he would have to seek out the one person he dreaded above all others, no matter what it cost him. It seemed the only way to bring Randor to ruin.
Now, Kerwyn was seeing his long-held goal finally within reach. He did not know why his new master needed one of Miro?s bones, but he had insisted that it was instrumental to destroying Randor. It had taken Kerwyn months to figure out a way to break into the royal tombs, not to mention working up the courage to do it. As he walked swiftly back to the barracks, he was consumed by these thoughts. Thus, he couldn?t say for certain exactly when the scuffing noise started. He suddenly became aware of it, and his other thoughts ceased. He stopped walking, taking shelter in the darkness of a nearby tree, so he could listen more closely. The noise continued, a sound as if something rough was being dragged. Although Kerwyn could see nothing, one thing was certain: the sound was getting closer.
Resuming his walk, Kerwyn quickened his pace. He did not scare easily, but there were many dangers in Eternia, and Kerwyn would rather not face any of them unnecessarily. Unless it furthered his goal, better to avoid conflict altogether. Besides, it was probably nothing more than an animal whose path coincidentally lay adjacent to his own, or some young hooligans trying to scare someone. Well, if the latter, let the whelps try? would they get a shock! Smiling at the thought, Kerwyn hurried along.
The noise continued unabated, and Kerwyn began to get used to it. Stupid kids, he thought. Making noise trying to scare someone, but they lack the nerve to take it to the next level. However, his sneer faded when he realized the sound had ceased. Stopping involuntarily, Kerwyn looked around him, and listened.
For a few moments, there was nothing. Then, a chilling, hollow voice: ?YOU,? it said. Turning, Kerwyn saw a dark shape approaching. The dragging sound had resumed. In the darkness, only a vague outline could be seen, but it did not look like an animal. It did not look like a young hooligan. As it drew closer, Kerwyn could hear joints popping, bones rattling. He could take no more. Kerwyn turned and ran for his life.
Stumbling through the maze of trees and bushes, splashing through a shallow stream, slipping and falling into a patch of briars, Kerwyn?s thoughts were a jumbled morass of fear, uncertainty, and curses. He could no longer hear the Noise, but that might be because of the noise he was making as he crashed through the vegetation. He didn?t dare stop to find out.
As Kerwyn began to calm down, his thoughts became more focused. He began to wonder exactly why a barely-glimpsed shape had unsettled him so. There had been something he recognized, something he hadn?t been able to make certain of in the darkness...
And then he had it. And he started running harder.
Suddenly, he tripped and tumbled down a small hill, landing face-first in the muck at its base. As he began to rise, cursing, his blood ran cold as he heard the Noise. It was right behind him! Leaping to his feet, Kerwyn felt a cold hand on his arm. Grabbing a rock with his free hand, he smashed it down on the wrist, not daring to look back at it. The grip slackened, and Kerwyn was running again.
Through all the running and falling, Kerwyn still hadn?t lost his sense of direction. Screaming, he burst from among the trees, sprinting into the clearing that lay before the eastern entrance to the barracks. He felt tears of relief streaming down his cheeks; he was home free.
A dark, hunched shape lurched at him from the darkness. Kerwyn screamed in terror and frustration as he went down. Forced at last to look into the face of his pursuer, he screamed even louder.
?WHY,? Miro?s corpse asked in its hollow monotone. It?s clammy hands, nearly devoid of flesh, closed around Kerwyn?s throat. The former king?s jaw hung slackly, maggots writhing in his mouth. One eye was putrefied beyond use, the other was yellowed and bloodshot. His beard was matted with cobwebs. His right leg ended at the knee, missing the shin bone that Kerwyn had delivered to his master.
?WHY DID YOU DISTURB ME??
Kerwyn screamed louder than he thought possible as he fought a losing battle with the former king of Eternia. The strength of the corpse was astonishing, and Kerwyn?s most vicious blows had no effect on it. Can?t the sentries hear me? Kerwyn thought frantically. Why isn?t anyone coming to help me?!!?
Kerwyn?s questions were never answered. All he could do was stare into that horrible yellow eye and wonder why, as he felt his life wither away.
?Why did you kill him?? the woman asked her master. ?Not that I mourn him, mind you. I ask out of idle curiosity.?
?I killed him because he was a traitor,? Skeletor replied, as he watched Kerwyn?s struggles cease in his scrying pool. ?He has betrayed every master he has ever served. Why, then, should I trust him? I simply cannot abide a traitor.? Skeletor looked at her pointedly. ?Don?t you agree, Evil-Lyn??
?Of course,? Evil-Lyn replied, without a hint of discomfort. ?But tell me, why did you need that specific bone??
?Come now, Evil-Lyn,? Skeletor said. ?I can?t tell you all my secrets.? With that, the Lord of Destruction left the room. Turning back to the scrying pool, Evil-Lyn looked upon the image of Kerwyn lying lifeless on the ground. The corpse of King Miro was nowhere in sight.
END
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