Now, i’m sorry to leave a couple of my stories as cliffhangers, but I havn’t gotten around to finish putting them together. I also apologize for not posting anything yesterday. To try to make up for it, i’ll start putting up a story I made long ago when I was still angry at a lot of people. This is the first part of my first story, Weapon’s Edge, Wendigo’s Story.
Snow was falling lightly, and a thick fog spread throughout the forest of pine trees, it looked like a grainy silent film, and the lack of animals making noises supported the illusion. It was behind one of the trees near a dirt path in the woods that he waited. He was thankful for the fog. It motivated the bandits to send up scouts. It also allowed more time to set up the “decorations”.
As the bandit leader and his organized band of men rode on. They were dressed in mismatched armor, much of it a mixture of plate and chainmail with various furs to protect them from the biting cold. The leader, a large man covered with tattoos depicting various dogs, cursed the fog for obscuring his vision, and his scouts for not returning, thinking they must have run off to screw around. In spite of the electric chill in his spine that had nothing to do with the weather, he still passed off the story of the monster in the woods to be nothing more than a tale to scare disobedient children, a bogeyman for his time. It was then that he noticed something in the trees ahead, two dark shapes hanging from the branches, but the fog and snow made it difficult to discern what they were from a distance. As he got closer he saw that the dark shapes were men hung from their entrails. More specifically, they were the scouts he sent up from earlier. The gruesome sight threw the men into a panic. It was then that they noticed that one man on his horse wasn’t moving. The horse shuddered and the man fell apart like he was held together by nothing more than sap and twigs. Then another man screamed as he realized that his guts were hanging out when his horse stepped on his intestines and when the men near him saw what had happened, they vomited. Then, all of a sudden, three men were decapitated by some unseen force.
The leader then ordered everyone to shoot in all directions and the air was instantly filled with bullets. Then, from somewhere in the fog and snow, bullets ricocheted back hitting five men between their eyes. The leader shouted out “Cease fire!” and then, a blade with no handle shot out of the woods and sliced the throats of two men and buried itself in the skull of a third. The band of blood thirsty bandits was down to only four men and their leader. Before organization was possible, one man and his horse stopped moving, then the head of the horse fell off and the man fell to the ground, shattering into a thousand cubes of meat. Frozen in horror, the others stood, and another man was cut vertically and fell to either side of his horse. The other two subordinates, in an attempt to be able to see what was going to kill them went back to back, and got beheaded at the same time. The leader, now believing in the story he heard back in town, felt a sharp pain, and fell to the ground. His limbs were sliced off, making him nothing more than a bleeding torso. In his last seconds of life, the leader was granted the privilege of the sight of the monster. The leader screamed “The W….” before he was cut off.