Modrec

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Short Story I wrote for an English assignment awhile ago.

Submitted: March 09, 2015

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Submitted: March 09, 2015

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Modrec watched from his small, poorly built hut. They would come for him, too. He ducked out the back door hurriedly and up the mountain on the western side. The people who attacked his peaceful village were unknown to everyone, except Modrec and the merchants. They were from the far side of the mountain. Their language was broken, but understood by Modrec for he was the only translator to the secret village.

Modrec watched as the tore every living soul from his village. These people were savage, cruely taking the children and drowning them in the lake. They weren't even people anymore. They were monsters. Monsters with weapons and skills past anything he has ever seen before. Oh, no. One of them has seen Modrec struggling up the fierce mountain.

It spoke to the others. "Po njem!"

Modrec caught it and he understood immediately. Slovic. He had to get out of there. Now. These people were the worst of the worst. He listened and translated in his mind. He was, after all, the lone translator that traveled with the merchants to make sure they understood each other when they made deals. Modrec had made it to the top with much difficulty, but at least he was alive. For now. He looked around. The wind was harsh and scratching his face. He bent down and hacked at the thin layer of ice with an axe he had managed to grab on his way out. He slithered into his little hole and laid on his stomach uncomfortably. He waited and listened, hoping the wind would bring enough snow to hide his whole body from these murderers.

Modrec heard something. "Kam sel? Poisci ga!" He shuddered as he heard the footsteps right outside his tiny hole.

"To se preselili. Ta sneg kup premakne."

Modrec held his breath. He knew he was caught. Tears came. 59 years. A record for his small, now dead, village. Silence came along with his silent pain. He paused to listen for any sounds. Nothing. They were just outside. One had just said the snow moved. Where did they go? The silence continued for much longer than Modrec expected. Too long...

The ice shattered above him as the enormous hand reached down and wrenched Modrec from his hole. Those large, hairy hands held his arms to his sides as he faced this creature of destruction.

It spoke to him. "Tvoj cas je prisel."

"I-I d-don't underst-stand." Modrec stuttered his response.

"I KNOW YOU UNDERSTAND ME. YOU ARE TRANSLATOR FOR  HERE AND MY HOME!"

Modrec shrank back, then said, "Ti in tvoja was je preklel, dokler vsi umrli."

The creature laughed and yanked Modrec's left arms across his body so the muscles tore. Modrec screamed and bashed the man creature in the face with his axe. He fell without a sound. The next man was about the same size, if not bigger. He had a quiver, but most were not finished. He must have picked up the re-usable ones off the battlefield. Two were still good though. The moster picked up his bow slowly and aimed at Modrec. Modrec turned to the another one of the men and butted him with his right shoulder, grabbing he small stone dagger out of his hand. Modrec whipped around, throwing the dagger straight at the guy with the bow. With a dull thud, the dagger plunged into the man. His grip tightened on the bow then loosened. He groaned and fell slowly onto the fresh snow. He lay motionless with a small trickle of blodd running from his fatal wound. Modrec turned back around. Two guys. One staying a bit away. The other closed in. No weapons to be seen. Modrec looked from one to the other. The closer guy suddenly dived to the side and ripped the dagger out of his falled comrade He growled and slashed at Modrec, catching his wrist. Modrec tried to block his face from the attack, taking all of the hits on his right arm. He kicked out at his enemy. The man fell and Modrec kicked him again. While he was defending himself for one man, the other had retrieved a good arrow from the quiver. Modrec kicked the man with the dagger down the mountain and watched him roll all the way. He waited for the resounding thud. He starting laughing.

"Yes!" he cried hysterically, "YES!...huhhhhhh..." With a long sigh, he slid to the ground, laying awkwardly with his left arm under him. The remaining man kicked Modrec, then turned around and started his decent on the mountain. He was the only one that made it out alive. The last man standing.


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