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Before you dive into part two make sure you’re caught up with what happened in part one: http://storiesbydude.com/2020/07/24/into-the-unknown/
A Short Story by Remontz
T’Rik & Omerik:
Still trembling from the death he’d seen in the incredible beasts’ jaws, T’Rik admired the dexterity and speed of his savior binding the creature with a pulsating rope. “Thanks I’d been a gon—“
“You are a fool!”, Omerik spat, snatching the protective glove off one hand, as he reached into his belt-bound pouch. He unveiled a sturdy, field ready syringe and stabbed the creature who shook the greywoods down to their roots, with another roar. This one was less of a roar and more of a painful cry of distress.
Although T’Rik could not understand what the young man had said, he could tell it wasn’t in good spirits by the tone. He looked away from the man’s handiwork and knelt, peering into the eyes of the beast. He saw tears forming in their ducts.
Omerik took a timeout from the preparations to transport the Kredoja back to camp and chastisedly stared at the moron. “Why have you acted so careless…”, he paused for an answer only to receive a confused face in return. “…and where is your blaster?! You would be dead if I’d no—“. Omerik snatched up the blaster and aimed it at T’Rik’s chest.
“Whoa, whoa…wait. Please! Wait, wait!!”, T’Rik lowered to his knees and raised his hands above his head. “I don’t know what you’re saying…”
Keeping his weapon steady, Omerik used his off hand to unlatch out the bola rope from his waistband. “Lowers your arms, Outsida’!” Omerik ordered.
“I—I…uh” T’Rik stammered with fear trying his hardest not to piss himself.
“Hands. Now!!” Omerik jutted his arms out in front of himself in demonstration, being sure to press the blaster barrel into his prisoner’s ribs.
T’Rik emulated as instructed, his hands about to fall loose at the wrist from his long, shaking arms.
Omerik swung down, slapping the bola tightly around the wrist of the Outsider. “Get up.”, he tilted his weapon up and down to compliment the commandment.
T’Rik understood the body language well enough. He toppled and flopped onto the ground helpless as the second bola rope snapped shut around his ankles. He once again stared into the eyes of the Kredoja. She stared back, almost as if she empathized with his situation. T’Rik, immediately cried out as the pulsing shockwaves began to travel through his nervous system. The pain eventually led him down the path to unconsciousness.
With the prisoner bound and unconscious, Omerik got to work on the sled, he’d use for transport. He un-backed his pack and searched out the foldable axe. He stepped over the whimpering Kredoja and towards his targeted Greywood.
It would be a days affair, he figured as he took his first full swing. He scoffed, as the strike barely chipped the bark of the mighty tree. Omerik removed his protective outer layer of armor and rolled up his sleeves, before delivering a second, equally dismal blow. “Okay, two days…” Omerik muttered his thoughts aloud to himself. He pulled back, eyeing the spot of tree bare of any bark and struck the tree once more. The axe nearly flew from his hand as it rebounded against the infrangible surface. After collecting himself, Omerik took stubborn aim once again.
Before he could bring the axe down the crying Kredoja broke his concentration with an ear bursting howl.
Omerik cowered from the sound. “Be calm beast!!” He shouted, afraid the monster would give his position away to the other competitors. The boy, who now, was just one trip home away from being a man, strode towards his prey; he was fully prepared to administer another dose of tranquilizer when he noticed it. Omerik followed her eyes and fell onto his backside from the shocking turn of events. The egg had begun to crack.
His fear of the strength the mother would soon have overrid his cognitive functioning; he was without a doubt sure his makeshift restraining rope knots would not hold her, if the newborn Kredoja appeared — Omerik slid, crawled and scrambled to his feet, Greywood leaves flying about his haste towards the egg. Moronically he started to try and pick pieces of the multilayered egg from the ground and put them back into place. Failure of the feat finally allowed for his mind to register a more practical solution. He tumbled towards his pack, dumping its contents in search of the second syringe. It bounced away from his lap and rolled down the small hill, he belly crawled in a hurry after it. He reached out…
The blue liquid crystallized under the scrutiny of the forest air, glass and metal fragments danced across the forest floor. To Omerik’s horror, the growling, saw-toothed, acid drooling face of the Kredoja mother accompanied the paw that had crushed the syringe.
It was now fight or flight.
Omerik rolled away just in time as the snapping jaws excavated a pit of forest soil. He started for his blaster but the smart predator made a quick move getting between he and his equipment.
She began slashing violently and uncontrollably, a long talon drawing the blood of the non-responsive bipedals wrist. Anger and rage fueling her every action…
Omerik & T’Rik:
The searing pain in his wrist was T’Rik’s first conscious thought as he came to, the second was the smell of burning fabric. A quick glance at the gash to his wrist explained the reason Greywood leaves stuck to his face as he lifted off the ground. Without regard to the steam coming from his pant leg or the wild fight underway mere meters away, T’Rik applied pressure to his wound. He searched for something to wrap his arm, until finally resting his eyes on the fragmented bola rope. Before he could grab hold of the twine his ankle erupted with pain. He looked down and saw the lesser sized beast gnawing at his rope bound leg. Fear fully driven he jerked away and began to roll down the hill towards the ongoing brawl.
Omerik dodged another four-taloned swipe incoming at his face, only to be tripped by the rolling prisoner. He crashed into the forest floor, and with the quick eyes of a warrior found the beast once more. Omerik’s reflexes acted quickly, before the Kredoja could stomp mercilessly onto the rope-bound fool’s head he push kicked T’Rik out of harms way.
T’Rik was one-hundred percent sure the kick had cracked a rib; nonetheless, he was thankful for having a cracked rib than a smashed skull. His eyes bulged as the massive paw sank into the hard forest floor as if it were sand.
Omerik scrambled away as the Kredoja leaped for him yet again. This time he had an angle on the pack. He sprinted as hard as he could. With the blaster only an arms length away he was forced to barrel roll away from it as a stream of acid flew in his direction. The newborn Kredoja taking on the fight of its mother almost ended it. Omerik did not have much to marvel over the way the Cubs saliva began to melt the Greywood trunk he could barely splinter. He ducked quickly, evading another furious slash from the adult Kredoja. Without a moments hesitation she struck again. The tail of Omerik’s shirt was torn off as he flipped away from her bite. Th Greywood was not as evasive, it began to topple. He galloped away, with the desperate mother right on his heels.
“Here!!!”, T’Rik yelled, powering on and then tossing his saber up hilt-first into the air as Omerik approached.
In one motion, Omerik caught the laseric-blade and dived over the prone prisoner. He tucked his legs and rotated so that his back hit the forest floor first, upon impact he extended the saber…
The blood thirsty Kredoja ignored the easy prey and leapt after her attacker…
The orange blood splattered and burned across Omerik’s face as the laser pierced the Kredoja’s heart, killing her instantly. The dead weight of the beast fell atop the startled warrior. The pure intensity of the moment faded…just like that. Omerik’s senses began to broaden slowly; once again able to take in his entire surrounding and not just life-saving necessities. His breath was short and strained under the weight and stench of the forest conquering Kredoja.
It took a long while but he was finally able to squeeze out from under it. He paused a long moment glaring down at the limp monstrosity; his awe the only thing making him capable of ignoring the cries of help from both the prisoner and the infant Kredoja. Omerik shook off the shock and trotted towards the man who’d saved him.
The warrior returned the saber into T’Rik’s grasp with a stern look and a head nod of approval, before releasing his legs from the bola rope.
Without any words exchanged between the two they made their way towards the wailing cub. Two of its six legs was trapped underneath the fallen Greywood.
“Do it.”, Omerik said.
“What??”, T’Rik could not believe his translator was not working in deciphering the strange warriors tongue. He stared down at the small beast, it’s frill was barely strong enough to fully erect. Despite its’ only being minutes old and in an inescapable position it continued to fight and spit acid; trying its best to turn and face the men who’d murdered its mother.
“Do it or I will!”, without pause for a response, Omerik snatched the saber from T’Rik and started to bring it down upon the trapped Kredoja.
“Noooo!!!!”, T’Rik shoved Omerik’s arm saving the creature.
Copyright © 2020 Kacy Gilbert (Writing as Remontz)
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