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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Action and Adventure  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 2 (v.1) - Frozen

Submitted: May 28, 2017

Reads: 156

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Submitted: May 28, 2017



“Boy! To me now!”

Flames engulf the fort, brimstone and jagged debris  plummeting from the upper part of the fort into the courtyard. Large pieces of debris landed on fleeing men killing them instantly. “Snap out of it lad!” The boy stood locked in a trance. Horror and disbelief stained his face. Blood streamed from a gash on his brow, rubble and dust masked the boy, as he stood over the bodies of fellow cut throats. Another clump of brick debris worked its way loose and was careening toward the boy. “Calen!!” Without thinking clearly the battle-worn merc’s body went into action lunging and tackling him out of harm’s way, as the brick made a crater from where Calen only moments ago stood.



“What the hell were you doing boy!”

“I’m sorry...I just couldn’t believe what we were up against, and what they were...were capable of.”

“Well kid we had no idea who we were pissing now we do. Explains why Petis fled here with whatever was left of his bandits following him.” Sim rose lifting the boy to his feet, a look of relief passed between them knowing they still had each other. A fleeing group of bandits ran past them climbing to the top of the stairs trying frantically to lower the drawbridge to escape. “That's our ticket out of here lad,that’s if you want to leave? Do you still want to stay here and die like a true Blood Serpent?” Sims said sarcastically while giving Calen a sly smirk.

“No thank you sir I’ve learned my lesson.”

Sims chuckled and turned and ran to assist the struggling bandits. Calen quickly followed his mentor to the drawbridge. Calen looked ahead and watched the bridge crank its way open the warm kiss of sunlight touched his face, freshly fallen snow showered down from the top of the drawbridge. Calen thought to himself. The outside world never looked so good once you’ve been through hell on the inside. The drawbridge lowered smoothly now, Sims and some of the crew must have figured out how to get it working again Calen thought. The bridge now halfway down Calen looked up to thee sun which to him seemed to sit on top of the Voljie Mountains. Calen stared at the sun almost as if he was daydreaming, until two dark shapes burst out the sun onto the mountains racing towards him. He squinted trying to figure out what approached. A blur turned into a shape, to a figure. A figure of a man, but Calen knew better, as light became visible from the figures. Joy turned quickly into terror and yet again Calen ceased to move. Sims leaned on the barricade on the platform above Calen. He was surprised to find a face of horror instead of a face of joy.


“Boy you look like you just heard the voice of Damaya, what evil poison kisses your face.” Sims said with a nervous chuckle.


“There were four…” Calen said unmoving. His eyes focused the fort.


“What are you blabbering about !?” Sim’s nerves now on edge his mind scrambling to get an understanding of the situation.


“The surviving serpents reported out to the rest of the camp they were attacked from four fronts.” Looking at Sims now fear edged out in his eyes, as they darted straight back to the outside.


“Four fronts….” Sims struggling to put the pieces together stared at Calen’s eyes and followed his gaze turning toward the sun, but it was already too late. A dark shadow casted over Sims and the men on the battlements blocking out the sun. The dark shape plummeted from the sky towards the battlements, its body illuminated with bright white light, its arm cocked back a sword in its grasp glowing bright white as well. The ominous figure without warning let out a battlecry. The sword slashed through the air letting out a white horizontal streak of light cutting through the chest and heads of men on the battlements. The veteran bandit’s quick reflexes and quick thinking prompting him to hurdle over the stone barricade and not a moment too soon as the light streak sliced through the stone barricade,at the same time grazing his shin as he fell. The streak knocking him off balance as he hit he the stony ground with a sick splat.

The deadly fall having stirred Calen from his trance he bolted over to his down friend. At a distance Calen most definitely thought Sims was dead, but as he crouched over him he yet breathed but was unconscious. The fall knocking him out. Calen felt sick to his stomach of the pool of blood that was forming around his boot. A savage wound was dealt to his shin, the foot barely attached. Only shreds of bone,muscle, and tissue kept it together. Bodies of men suddenly came smashing into the ground. No doubt the skin was now on the battlements laying waste to whatever sorry fool stood in its way.

Dust and stone loosened above them under the impact of the skin’s landing. Calen was faced with a hard decision. Carry Sims to a safe location, where ever that is, all while not being targeted by the skins,or leave Sims to die. The sound of another impact on the battlements signaled the arrival of the second skin. Calen slowly drew the small dagger at his waist holding it with two hands putting it to his chest, hovering over the stirring man.

“Forgive me it's better this way…”Calen choked. He thought it would be better to take him out of his suffering while he was still unconscious, than him waking up to his current predicament. Just as Calen was ready to do the selfless deed driving the blade downward a crash in front of him stopped him mid thrust.

It landed only a few feet away from him dust billowing masing his vision as it rose light piercing through the dust until it was completely visible. It was massive standing at least eight feet tall dwarfing him by a long shot. Beyond its flashing lights it was a grayish shade and not a shade brighter for mistaken it for white. It even had the physique of the strongest warrior armor visible on its body metal and unbreakable skin fused together as one. Calen stepped back making sure his boots hit the ground with a silent tap, but was interrupted by a dead body lying on the ground. Stumbling over, he fell into crates lined  against the wall realizing the stealthy advantage he had just moments ago quickly vanished the skin turned. Its face concealed in a visor like mask of light its unwavering gaze burning holes into him. Its blade dripped with the blood of Calen’s fallen brethren the blood sizzling with each drop as it strolled towards him. Scrambling to his feet Calen edged away from the towering titan. Freedom just a few steps away all he had to do was turn and run, but Calen wasn't going to be so stupid. He knew the moment he turned around the snowy peaked mountains would be his last memory.

Seeing no way of escape Calen simply put his back against the wall and stared his death in the face.

“Make it quick.” Glassy eyes flashing as the blade was brought to his chest Calen turned away and shut his eyes.



© Copyright 2019 Cold Habit. All rights reserved.


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