05-26-2016, 08:27 AM
Ballad didn’t quite remember the hill being particularly large, though given how he was tumbling down it at an immeasurable speed, he probably wouldn’t be the most accurate judge of altitude.
Snow kicked into the air as the inventor’s body smashed into the ground every second or so, each touchdown preceding a grunt. His vision was all over the place; nothing was discernible. The only thing he could see were white blurs, and all he could feel was the soft sting of frost slapping his cheek and the sharp throbbing of the wounds in his back.
Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, he skidded to a stop at the bottom of the hill. He lifted his head up, his glowing eyes glancing towards every perceivable object in the area. His dwarven partner had landed close by, and his limbs wobbled as he tried to get up. His pickaxe was still in his right hand, thankfully not in his flesh from the chaos, but his revolver was about halfway up the hill, lying in the snow.
He slowly pushed himself onto his feet, groaning as he twisted his left arm to look at his back. His jacket from the middle to his left shoulder had been shredded, leaving four marks cutting through his green jacket and white sweater. Blood seeped from the wounds, trickling down his backside and onto the ground. He moved his right hand over to cup his wound, switching hands with his melee weapon to do so as he walked up the hill for his revolver. He passed by a few red blood splotches as he moved up; they were probably from him, given he didn’t remember the dwarf obtaining any wounds.
Just as he was about halfway to his weapon, however, he heard a loud crack erupt from the mine entrance. He paused, staring at the rock-covered entryway.
A single, blood-covered claw poked out from between the boulders.
A split second later, the rocks began to move forward, sliding through the entryway and rolling down the hill.
The gunsmith dove to the side, barely avoiding the stones as they shot past him. He looked briefly towards the ground, seeing the dwarf had finally stood up just in time to avoid being smashed into a pulp.
He looked back to the entrance, keeping completely still. The wampa was standing outside the cave entrance, piles of rock and gravel behind it inside the cave. It sniffed the air, claws outstretched, one freshly stained with the blood of its prey. It then stopped, lowering its head towards the ground before rapidly kicking it, letting out a massive roar.
For a moment, the inventor peered at the creature, eyebrows raised. He then looked towards the blood stains on the hill, smiling before looking back at the wampa.
His revolver was still on the ground, a running distance away from where he lied. The beast was slowly descending, occasionally slashing its claws through the snow. Danish remained motionless alongside Ballad, whom was looking from the gun to the animal at lightning speed. He remembered where he shot the beast. A shoulder wound to most creatures would at least injure them enough to get knocked out of the fight for a little while. If bullets couldn’t hurt this thing, then he knew what would.
He just had to get to it.
The green-skinned man charged forward, a nightmarish roar erupting from the top of the hill. It seemed almost like a race, with the two contestants at the finish line. Adrenaline pumped through his veins as he sprinted up the hill, drawing closer and closer to the one thing that could end this.
Just as he got close enough to touch it, though, he saw snow kick into the air out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head, flying back as the beast’s paw connected with his face.
He fell onto his back, his face swollen and his left eye closed. The thing had slashed across it, damn near clawing his eyes out but instead only managed to leave massive facial wounds. He probably should have been glad he didn’t go blind, but at that point, his focus was merely on the wampa.
He stood back up, smoke starting to billow out of the sleeves of his jacket as he swung his pickaxe down. The sharp end of the pick plunged into the animal’s shoulder, sinking into its flesh. He then jerked it out, taking a tiny mass of meat with it. The wampa cried out, the hole in its shoulder gushing out blood as the pickaxeman continued his assault, thrusting his weapon towards its chest. The beast moved its arm, the pick impaling the side of it with a sickening thunk. Screaming, the creature swung its arm to its side, the sudden force jerking the gunsmith off of his feet and causing him to fly past the wampa. He fell into the ground, feeling his chin swell up as it cracked against the earth. He raised his head off the snow-covered ground, seeing the wampa tear off the pickaxe impaled in its arm before dropping it to the ground, blood dripping from its pointed head.
Shit.
The creature took a moment to sniff the air, its head twisting towards the spot Ballad lied on. Growling, it stomped towards him, reaching out to him with its claws.
The gunner pawed around his belt for anything he could use. Just as his hand slid past the handle for his flamethrower, the wampa reached to his legs, grabbing both of them before lifting him up into the air.
Ballad could do nothing but scream as the creature repeatedly smashed him into the ground, its claws shredding his legs all the while. His back was shrieking for relief after all the abuse it had taken, and he tasted blood forming around his tongue and teeth. Each breath he took turned into a gasp as the air reached his lungs, pain shooting up his neck and around his chest. He could barely tell what was happening anymore, with the constant falls, snow shooting up into the air, and hazy vision. It was almost like a dream.
Finally, after one last fall, the thing stopped. All that the inventor could hear was its deep, labored breathing. His vision started to clear as he was hoisted up to its face. It stared at him, its pale white eyeballs piercing his very being. It didn’t require a genius to figure out how it felt about him.
The white-haired animal opened its mouth, an array of vicious canines visible within its slit as it separated. It pulled his head towards its mouth, ready to kill him right then and there.
It screeched. It screeched like it had lost something very dear to it, and was taking its frustration out on the world. The rage-fueled beast let go of the gunner, who barely made a movement as he tumbled onto the snow-covered ground.
-------------
“Hehe… ya still alive ther’, troll? Ya shoul-” was all his rescuer had to say before the abominable snowman swung its arm behind it, slapping him across the jaw. The dwarf fell back, looking up as the wampa sniffed the air for the third time, growling menacingly. He had apparently hit just the right spot in its legs with that dagger.
It charged forward, slicing its claws across the air and connecting with the dwarf’s face. He cried out, a shed of black hair falling into the earth as he landed on his back, blood filling his vision. He continued crying out in pain as the creature walked towards him, raising its claws.
Please… Inanna… it’s not my time… I beg of you…
Light filled his vision. An orange and yellow light behind the wampa that radiated off of its back. He could see it even through all of the blood. She had answered his prayers again!
-----------------------------
The gunner continued blasting at the yeti, his left hand cupping his chest as he stumbled towards the creature. His flamethrower continued bursting out yellow and orange flames, lighting up the thing’s back.
The creature let out the most tortured and most ravaged yell it had ever let out in its life, trying its best to escape the pain all around it. All of its nerves were overloading as the flames licked its skin, turning its hide to ashes as it slowly stepped away from the source of the fire. Ballad continued his assault, drawing it closer and closer to the revolver still laying on the ground. Each second had to count; he only had so long to use the thing in his hand.
Finally, the flamethrower began to sputter. He promptly lowered it to the ground, both staggering and charging towards the revolver. He dove towards it, grabbing it in his hand.
The wampa let out a thunderous howl, the napalm-like fire finally melting off of its skin. It inhaled, trying to recover the scent of the man that had hurt it so. Just as it did, it felt a series of stabs all over its legs and chest just as gunshots rang out around the hill. The thing tried to strike the pain around it, all reason having disappeared from its brain as it flailed around at everything and everyone surrounding it.
After a fair few moments, the creature stopped, everything in its body hurting. Its knees buckled, dropping it to the ground. It continued trying to move as it heard footsteps approach.
The gunsmith held the empty revolver in his hand, seeing the yeti at his feet. Its mouth was agape, its hide was burnt, and almost every part of its body was leaking blood. Wasting little time, the man pressed down on one of the glass buttons, the green one labeled “1” lighting up as he shoved it into the yeti’s throat. Saliva drooled out of its slit of a mouth as the man started to walk away, falling flat onto his face as the gun exploded.
Snow kicked into the air as the inventor’s body smashed into the ground every second or so, each touchdown preceding a grunt. His vision was all over the place; nothing was discernible. The only thing he could see were white blurs, and all he could feel was the soft sting of frost slapping his cheek and the sharp throbbing of the wounds in his back.
Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, he skidded to a stop at the bottom of the hill. He lifted his head up, his glowing eyes glancing towards every perceivable object in the area. His dwarven partner had landed close by, and his limbs wobbled as he tried to get up. His pickaxe was still in his right hand, thankfully not in his flesh from the chaos, but his revolver was about halfway up the hill, lying in the snow.
He slowly pushed himself onto his feet, groaning as he twisted his left arm to look at his back. His jacket from the middle to his left shoulder had been shredded, leaving four marks cutting through his green jacket and white sweater. Blood seeped from the wounds, trickling down his backside and onto the ground. He moved his right hand over to cup his wound, switching hands with his melee weapon to do so as he walked up the hill for his revolver. He passed by a few red blood splotches as he moved up; they were probably from him, given he didn’t remember the dwarf obtaining any wounds.
Just as he was about halfway to his weapon, however, he heard a loud crack erupt from the mine entrance. He paused, staring at the rock-covered entryway.
A single, blood-covered claw poked out from between the boulders.
A split second later, the rocks began to move forward, sliding through the entryway and rolling down the hill.
The gunsmith dove to the side, barely avoiding the stones as they shot past him. He looked briefly towards the ground, seeing the dwarf had finally stood up just in time to avoid being smashed into a pulp.
He looked back to the entrance, keeping completely still. The wampa was standing outside the cave entrance, piles of rock and gravel behind it inside the cave. It sniffed the air, claws outstretched, one freshly stained with the blood of its prey. It then stopped, lowering its head towards the ground before rapidly kicking it, letting out a massive roar.
For a moment, the inventor peered at the creature, eyebrows raised. He then looked towards the blood stains on the hill, smiling before looking back at the wampa.
His revolver was still on the ground, a running distance away from where he lied. The beast was slowly descending, occasionally slashing its claws through the snow. Danish remained motionless alongside Ballad, whom was looking from the gun to the animal at lightning speed. He remembered where he shot the beast. A shoulder wound to most creatures would at least injure them enough to get knocked out of the fight for a little while. If bullets couldn’t hurt this thing, then he knew what would.
He just had to get to it.
The green-skinned man charged forward, a nightmarish roar erupting from the top of the hill. It seemed almost like a race, with the two contestants at the finish line. Adrenaline pumped through his veins as he sprinted up the hill, drawing closer and closer to the one thing that could end this.
Just as he got close enough to touch it, though, he saw snow kick into the air out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head, flying back as the beast’s paw connected with his face.
He fell onto his back, his face swollen and his left eye closed. The thing had slashed across it, damn near clawing his eyes out but instead only managed to leave massive facial wounds. He probably should have been glad he didn’t go blind, but at that point, his focus was merely on the wampa.
He stood back up, smoke starting to billow out of the sleeves of his jacket as he swung his pickaxe down. The sharp end of the pick plunged into the animal’s shoulder, sinking into its flesh. He then jerked it out, taking a tiny mass of meat with it. The wampa cried out, the hole in its shoulder gushing out blood as the pickaxeman continued his assault, thrusting his weapon towards its chest. The beast moved its arm, the pick impaling the side of it with a sickening thunk. Screaming, the creature swung its arm to its side, the sudden force jerking the gunsmith off of his feet and causing him to fly past the wampa. He fell into the ground, feeling his chin swell up as it cracked against the earth. He raised his head off the snow-covered ground, seeing the wampa tear off the pickaxe impaled in its arm before dropping it to the ground, blood dripping from its pointed head.
Shit.
The creature took a moment to sniff the air, its head twisting towards the spot Ballad lied on. Growling, it stomped towards him, reaching out to him with its claws.
The gunner pawed around his belt for anything he could use. Just as his hand slid past the handle for his flamethrower, the wampa reached to his legs, grabbing both of them before lifting him up into the air.
Ballad could do nothing but scream as the creature repeatedly smashed him into the ground, its claws shredding his legs all the while. His back was shrieking for relief after all the abuse it had taken, and he tasted blood forming around his tongue and teeth. Each breath he took turned into a gasp as the air reached his lungs, pain shooting up his neck and around his chest. He could barely tell what was happening anymore, with the constant falls, snow shooting up into the air, and hazy vision. It was almost like a dream.
Finally, after one last fall, the thing stopped. All that the inventor could hear was its deep, labored breathing. His vision started to clear as he was hoisted up to its face. It stared at him, its pale white eyeballs piercing his very being. It didn’t require a genius to figure out how it felt about him.
The white-haired animal opened its mouth, an array of vicious canines visible within its slit as it separated. It pulled his head towards its mouth, ready to kill him right then and there.
It screeched. It screeched like it had lost something very dear to it, and was taking its frustration out on the world. The rage-fueled beast let go of the gunner, who barely made a movement as he tumbled onto the snow-covered ground.
-------------
“Hehe… ya still alive ther’, troll? Ya shoul-” was all his rescuer had to say before the abominable snowman swung its arm behind it, slapping him across the jaw. The dwarf fell back, looking up as the wampa sniffed the air for the third time, growling menacingly. He had apparently hit just the right spot in its legs with that dagger.
It charged forward, slicing its claws across the air and connecting with the dwarf’s face. He cried out, a shed of black hair falling into the earth as he landed on his back, blood filling his vision. He continued crying out in pain as the creature walked towards him, raising its claws.
Please… Inanna… it’s not my time… I beg of you…
Light filled his vision. An orange and yellow light behind the wampa that radiated off of its back. He could see it even through all of the blood. She had answered his prayers again!
-----------------------------
The gunner continued blasting at the yeti, his left hand cupping his chest as he stumbled towards the creature. His flamethrower continued bursting out yellow and orange flames, lighting up the thing’s back.
The creature let out the most tortured and most ravaged yell it had ever let out in its life, trying its best to escape the pain all around it. All of its nerves were overloading as the flames licked its skin, turning its hide to ashes as it slowly stepped away from the source of the fire. Ballad continued his assault, drawing it closer and closer to the revolver still laying on the ground. Each second had to count; he only had so long to use the thing in his hand.
Finally, the flamethrower began to sputter. He promptly lowered it to the ground, both staggering and charging towards the revolver. He dove towards it, grabbing it in his hand.
The wampa let out a thunderous howl, the napalm-like fire finally melting off of its skin. It inhaled, trying to recover the scent of the man that had hurt it so. Just as it did, it felt a series of stabs all over its legs and chest just as gunshots rang out around the hill. The thing tried to strike the pain around it, all reason having disappeared from its brain as it flailed around at everything and everyone surrounding it.
After a fair few moments, the creature stopped, everything in its body hurting. Its knees buckled, dropping it to the ground. It continued trying to move as it heard footsteps approach.
The gunsmith held the empty revolver in his hand, seeing the yeti at his feet. Its mouth was agape, its hide was burnt, and almost every part of its body was leaking blood. Wasting little time, the man pressed down on one of the glass buttons, the green one labeled “1” lighting up as he shoved it into the yeti’s throat. Saliva drooled out of its slit of a mouth as the man started to walk away, falling flat onto his face as the gun exploded.
Quote:Quest: Into the Halls
Word Count: 1685
Wampa dead! Now to skin it!
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New to OV? Need a question answered? Want a C&C of your work? Send a PM to me!
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