Well, I've decided - this is it. I have far too much free time. So what I'm going to do is write a fiction story which will be updated every so often depending on it's reception. English has always been my strongest subject in school, so why not make some use of it? I haven't really attempted writing fiction for a true-to-life audience, so this will be my first try. Constructive criticism please
. Bear in mind, most of the story is improvised except for basic plot elements. The universe is nothing in particular, but fairly medieval. Lastly, I can't draw, if someone wants to be a fan-artist I will love them!
And we're off:
---
Chapter One [If someone could suggest a title, would be great thanks!]
This hero was known to his people. He was considered divine, blessed by the angels themselves to protect the people of this small village. When walking around the squalid huts, faces shone at him with adoration, at the sight of his coming, the mention of his name, the sound of his voice. With his elaborate armour awarded to him by the lord of this small town, Vitalus literally glowed among the peasants in the summer sun.
"Hail Vitalus, slayer of the plague!" It was true. Vitalus, as one of his many acts of heroism, had vanquished a family of huge rats which had been devouring the crops of the people. Many would not forget it, as it had saved countless lives.
"Greetings Vitalus, savior of my daughter!" bellowed Maximus, his father, giving him a huge grin behind his bushy walrus-beard. This was also true, he had saved his sister from a ravenous troll under the bridge. It was highly likely that the corpse was still burning at a pyre nearby to ward off other would-be trolls.
So here Vitalus takes off his helmet, revealing his handsome clean-cut face, blonde hair and perfect smile, topped off with a pair of deep blue eyes. He had had many admirers, but none he felt he could love. He would choose one of them - eventually - but in the mean time, every woman in the village dreamed that they would be his choice. So Vitalus, he was a hero. His father was so proud of his son, and would be forever. His sister had married one high in royalty and moved off to a much richer settlement.
"Son, I know you owe this place nothing, and it can give you nothing in return. But there is something the lord mentioned earlier, and I think you could handle it."
"You know I serve this place from my heart, father. Say the word and it will be done!"
"There is a creature most foul in the side of the mountain. Farmers complain that the horrid thing is eating their livestock. It could be a wolf, or perhaps a mountain lion, like the last one you hunted for us," he couldn't help but smile at his son's bravery again, "but still, be careful. There've been trails of fur that the farmers have marked out during the day, it seems only to come at night, and we know exactly where the thing is hiding. It's probably some thieves, actually. Either way, give them a seeing to."
"Alright father, I'll do my best!" Vitalus said, and turned, his cape flowing behind him. The smithy behind him where his father worked was simple, but always home for him. He would never forget it. But right now, without looking back, he set off to the mountainside near the farmstead. It wasn't all a long walk, and there probably wasn't much at the other side. Wolves attacked livestock all the time. If he made fair time, he'd get there a few hours before sunset.
After a brisk walk down the path, he reached the mountain side and the granary that was there. There was indeed a trail of fur leading up the path on the way up to the towering mountain. A shepard stood calmly with his crook.
"Hurry back, an' I'll share with ya' my newest cut, deeeelicious!" The shepard smecked his lips, and Vitalus knew he would - he couldn't refuse a dinner offer. So he walked briskly up the path, not bothering with his helmet. He was more than a match for a predatory animal without any armour.
After a short while, he reached the opening to the cave. It was a gloomy entrance and quickly degenerated into blackness. Lightning a flint torch on a nearby rock, he began to walk inside. The light filled the gloom, making the rock walls orange. It was quite deep, so he continued downwards. After a short while, he noticed something about the 'cave'. The walls of the cave were not natural stone. He took a closer look, and found they had joints. These were actually bricked interior walls.
A sense of foreboding quickly overcome Vitalus, but he didn't for a moment think of turning back. He soldiered onwards until the path began to split in many directions. About to give up out of hopelessness, he saw a hunched figure over in a slight indent in the wall. As he crept closer, a huge scent of decay assaulted his senses. As he neared the final step, he noticed that the dusty floor had a coat of drying gore. The thing hunched was a dead wolf, seemingly from a crushing blow to it's head. It wasn't easily recognisable.
Vitalus heard a knock, like stone hitting stone. Being the hero, he rushed towards it and entered through one of the split-offs into what he could only describe as a dressing room. It had a large chest, a mirror, and a cupboard. It was very simple and fairly uninteresting. But the chest interested him for what it may contain - with some money, he could reward his town for the good faith they empower him with. Perhaps he could break the lock with his weapon... perhaps the lord could become a king... perhaps his father could be recognised!
Without a moments hesitation, he sprinted toward the chest. He was just passing the mirror, only a few more seconds to go. For a split second, he noticed a dark figure in the mirror - then he was struck in the chest with a massive crushing force.
He was sent sprawling across the hard floor before he hit the wall nearest his entrance. He was winded, but scrawled to get up. Futilely, he heaved but his head was instantly guided into the floor by a heavy... hoof? He couldn't tell. It felt like one. He couldn't lift his head, but could see into the mirror across the room. The huge figure was blackened, with a large lizard-like barbed tail and rough skin. It could have easily doubled him in height. The only other things he could make out were a face that held several eyes and an impossibly huge cheshire-cat grin.
"Your town shepard's stock was appetising," spoke the vast demon in a voice deep and grinding, "and so was the lion. I'd ask you to tell the townspeople, but you won't be seeing them again. Nighty-night." cheered the creature, as it used it's full weight to force the man's head into pulp on the ground. A loud crack could be heard, and if possible, the creature's grin grew wider.
Grabbing the headless body of Vitalus by the leg, the monster dragged the heavy corpse over to the chest, which it unlocked with the hooks of it's tail. It then forced the much-loved man's body uncomfortably into the chest with three other corpses, twenty years old the newest of them, and slammed it shut. The beast ambled away with a certain amount of leisure, toward the exit door at the other end of the hall.
Goresplatter attempts fiction!
