The Lord of Night

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic

“Life... is a paradise to what we fear of death.”
- William Shakespeare, Measure for Measure

Chapter 1 (v.1) - The Moonlit Forest

Submitted: October 15, 2016

Reads: 591

Comments: 2

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Submitted: October 15, 2016

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Tenebrous Silva, Republic of Faronway

The still, night-time forest was bathed in a silvery sheen cascading down from a crescent moon. An elven maid was darting across the woods, her breath coming out in ragged gasps as she ducked through foliage and cut herself along its bare branches.

Strands of her ash-blonde hair cascaded down her back, her eyes, the blue of a cornflower, were filled with terror and a sense of impending doom. Wrapped around her body was a dress of steely-blue velvet, once beautiful but now torn in places and smeared with dirt.

The elf’s blood trickled down thin gashes along her pale, creamy skin. Her feet were sore and bleeding, for she had lost her slippers while fleeing deeper into the heart of the forest. Behind her, leaping through the woods like lumps of dark shadows, came blood-thirsty barking and howls.

Demonic hounds the size of small horses, their eyes glowing like orbs of rubies, were slobbering as they scurried through the undergrowth of trees after the fair elf. Their canines were sabers, their coats, black as night, were glistening with sweat.

Their claws, long and sharp as talons, scratched against the forest floor as they darted after the elf. Leading the pack was a huge demonic hound even more horrendous than its comrades, with three large heads, their gaping jaws brimming with teeth as sharp as blades.

A hellhound tried to lunge at the elf, its claws outstretched and fangs shining. The elf barely dodged the monster’s pounce, its fangs grazing her savagely upon the shoulder. She nimbly leaped over a fallen log and scuttled away from pack. Despite her efforts, the hounds were steadily gaining upon the elven maid.

At this rate, I will be overrun! The young elf mused in panic. Her face and back were mated with sweat, despite the chill in the dark forest, while the elf was starting to run short of her own breath, 

I wont be able to make it! With a final thought, the elven maid tripped over a rotten log beneath her feet and went sprawling forward. Her shoulders and face grazed roughly against the moist earth, and a giant hellhound pounced at her, its jaws set in a ravenous snarl.

“Ahhh!” She screamed as the hound came down upon her, expecting her flesh to be ripped off from her body with its monstrous fangs. However, the elf felt nothing, and after a moment, she opened her eyes to gaze in shock at the surrounding forest scenery.

Standing before her were a dozen warriors, clad in plate and leather vest, their swords brandished against the oncoming pack of demonic hounds. The men wore a dark steel conical helmet and leather mask that mid most of their face, their lobstered-gauntleted hands gripping dull broadswords. Upon their backs were cloaks that used to be a redwood red, but had faded away with time.

A growling hellhound charged at one of the mysterious warriors, its eyes gleaming with blood lust. Despite the fact that the beast had sunk its teeth into his flesh, the masked warrior yanked it free and thrust his sword through its body. Crimson blood gushed out from the hound’s slit belly, its entrails pooling out in ghastly heaps.

The other demonic hounds, their eyes blazing with a mad desire to kill, leaped forward at once. The two sides clashed in a bloody entanglement of limbs and flesh, bones and sinews. Claws and fangs were brandished against swords, as the mysterious warriors and hellhounds desperately grappled with one another.

Something seems weird, The elven maid had been hiding behind a bough of trees, watching the whole action before her with an unflickering gaze. 

The warriors, she mused, the cold hands of dread gripping upon her heart, many of them had been bitten by the hounds for so many times now. Yet they seemed to felt nothing

As she stared at them, one of the mysterious warriors turned to look at her. His skin was burnt black and ashen, and his eyes—his eyes were black, sunken pits where the eyeballs should have been. They gaped at her like a pair of grotesque holes that were bore into the men’s faces, even more terrifying to the elf than the hellhounds had been.

The elven maid screamed in horror as she fled with all the might her thin, injured leg would take her. She ran on and on, terror spurring her forward, despite her sore and bleeding feet. After having darted through the woodlands for such a long while that she was sure that the demons could not have followed her here, the elf doubled up and retched with the exertion of her sprint.

She was stooping, vainly gasping for breath when the three-headed hellhound pounced upon her, its bare canines gleaming like knives before her face. The elf screeched terribly as she struggled to fight it off, the beast snapping its three pair of fangs into her slim, delicate fingers.

The hound ranked its claws in deep gashes across her skin, and the elf gasped in pain and terror as her strength waned against the demon’s voracious might When the elf thought that this time, she would truly be devoured, a sword stroke cleaved the hellhound’s body in half. Its blood and intestines spilled all over the elf’s body and she frighteningly squirmed out from under the mangled carcass.

Glancing up, the elven maid was face to face with a knight, clad in a plate of steely thorns and menacing barbs. His helm was a criss-crossed steel mask protruding with thorns.

Behind it was a scabbed and ghastly scorched face of an elf, his eyes pits of darkness like those warriors she encounter earlier. The elf gave a final horrified shriek and passed out. Just before her eyelids fluttered close, she saw a black-haired elf, clad in a sable robe, standing beside the knight of thorns. Clasped in his hand was an ebony staff of bones, its head topped by a horned demon skull.

Within his eyes, the elven maid thought she could saw a glint of anxiety, before fright put her to sleep...


© Copyright 2020 S. K. Inkslinger. All rights reserved.

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