Chapter 1
The Hunter rushed through the forest, wielding his ax in his left hand and brandishing Kielvr, his 2-½ foot long sword, in his right. He jumped the stray log in front of him and made a tragic mistake. Upon jumping the log he snagged a pant leg on a twig and tripped and fell dropping the ax in the process. With a chill in his bones he turned and quickly whipped Kielvr around and just in time as the demon he was running from pounced upon him. Mostly though, the slice was in vain as the demon was a Shelfok, a more beast-like monster covered in hundreds of foot-long projections like a monstrous porcupine. Kielvr sliced through the bottom of the Shelfok’s hide going straight through its belly. A normal beast would have doubled over and died but with the supernatural endurance of a demon, the Shelfok simply let out a slight whimper and raised a seven-clawed paw to slice at the downed hunter. The hunter’s instincts kicked in and without thinking he swiftly whipped his wrist to deflect the beast’s claws. Kielvr sliced off three claws and the Shelfok howled with pain. The momentary lapse by the Shelfok gave the hunter a chance to quickly flip backwards, expertly raise his ax and whip it around in a 180-degree slash. The ax cut away plenty of flesh and the Shelfok grasped its stomach and backed away but it wasn’t leaving. The demon was simply taking a break to recoup; it would be sure to come after The Hunter when healed. The Hunter couldn’t allow this to happen so he would have to finish it off now.
The Hunter inhaled deeply taking a big breath, rolled his shoulders and worked the kinks out of his neck. He closed his eyes and inhaled even more deeply and prepared himself to produce the massive amount of strength it would take to accomplish what would come next. He was ready.
“Now!” The Hunter thought.
As the Shelfok was beginning to rise again The Hunter raised his ax high above his head and rushed the beast, pumping his legs as fast as they could go. The Hunter arched his arms back and reached the Shelfok just as it was raising its spiked head. The Hunter made eye contact with the monster, took a deep breath and then used all his power to bring the ax down as swiftly as possible. The Hunter closed his eyes and imagined the ax slicing through the beast’s head as smoothly as it would slice through meat and when he heard the tip of the instrument connect with the demon’s skull he smiled in triumph. He surged his arms and the ax went all the way through the Shelfok’s head.
And with that The Hunter heaved a great sigh and sat down on his haunches. He released his grip on the ax and let it fall to the floor. The Hunter went over what had just happened and realized with a shock that he didn’t understand anything that had just happened. Like in all his battles The Hunter had simply used his reflexes, instincts and a kill or be killed nature he had developed over years of fighting humans and beasts alike to kill the Shelfok. Though, had The Hunter stopped for a second to try and understand what had happened he most likely would have been dumbfounded.
With this revelation in mind he stood and closely examined the Shelfok. He counted its claws, seven on each paw with a slight depression separating a group of five claws with the other two. He put its severed head together and examined the creature’s head, it was nothing like any animals he had seen before. It was a fairly small head with large ears, probably for amplified hearing, but with no nose which surprised The Hunter but not nearly as much as the monster’s mouth. It was by far the scariest part of the creature with row after row of large sharp teeth, which he knew if given the chance the monster could have easily ripped him apart with. He opened the mouth wide and touched the beast’s tongue.
“Ouch!” he exclaimed as he pricked his finger on one of the sharp bristles covering the Shelfok’s tongue.
“Could lick the skin right off a man,” he said as he dropped the head back down. He clenched his fist and shook his head in disgust, “What kind off monster could have created this kind of thing”.
The Hunter shook his head once more and picked up his ax, cleaned it with a scrap of fabric that he kept for such an occasion and put it back in its holster on his back. He walked slowly over to where Kielvr lay in the dirt and picked it up and cleaned it with the fabric also. He placed Kielvr in its sheath on his left hip and looked around. It was getting dark, night was making its slow approach over the skies and The Hunter knew that he was still deep in forest, too far away from civilization to choose to rest and yet The Hunter did not like night.
The tricks the night would play unsettled The Hunter, the slight glimpses in your peripheral vision that trigger a small shiver or a fearful glance. It was the noises though, that The Hunter hated most. A howl here or a chattering there. Even the trees, with their stretching fingers would send shivers down The Hunter’s spine. No, The Hunter did not like the night and he never would, it had been an intrinsic part of his nature for as long as he could remember. Maybe it was the fact that during the night he felt like he became more of a prey to the things that he hunted than during the day when he was much more a predator. He would much prefer that day last all day long as he heard it did in some places in the far north. In the end however, The Hunter’s tendency toward self-preservation prevailed over his apprehension of the night and he decided that he would take the trek into town as quickly as possible and after resting would try to find out as much as he could about whatever it was he fought.
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