Shadow Wolf time! This is part of my weekly writing exercise, written raw and rough. The first story arc, Blade Breaker, can be found here. The first story of this arc, Red Fangs, can be found here. The previous week’s post can be found here.
“Fucking finish them off you dogs. Now, while they are still tired.”
And I laughed as they came, because what man can be tired with the rush of escaping the snapping jaws of something monstrous and the red joy of killing it still upon him?
My first attacker gave me plenty of warning, howling ferociously as she leapt off her high perch, teeth flashing in dim light. I swung my blade to meet here and her eyes went wide as it bit deep and sent her flying away in two pieces.
Then they were all around me. They clawed at my face and I pushed them away. They clawed at my sides but my Kingsmail proved too much for them. They clawed at my legs and bit at my back and that proved to be a larger problem. While most of Cinders minions were poor combatants, used to back alley street fights at best, they were still vampires and rather strong. I chopped the hands off the first couple, but as soon as one got a lasting grip my position became untenable.
A body slammed into my, I staggered. Another jumped on my back, biting at my neck and bearing me down. Roaring I slammed that body down on top of one the ones that had my feet and I was suddenly free again, although my greatsword had clattered to the ground in the meantime.
Grinning at my apparent helpless a vampire with the facial tattoos of a wildsider gang came at me. I fed him a mouthful of gauntleted fist, shattering the teeth that he had so proudly displayed.
The next vampire to come at me was bearing my own blade, shimmering silver.
“Let’s see how you like it!” he shouted, swinging it in a broad arc. I jumped back out of the way, and he followed, swinging. I knew very well that even an enchanted suit of kingsmail would not stop that blade with the strength of a vampire behind it, so I kept giving ground, waiting for my moment.
Just when I thought that I was ready, another vampire leapt on me from behind. Howling triumphantly, the one wielding my sword swung. I ducked and twisted, putting thebody on my back in the way of the weapon. The blade bearer was not skilled enough to arrest his wild attack and I felt the weight on my back lessen. Rolling, my feet caught the blade bearers, tripping him. I stunned him with a hammer-fist blow to the temple as he fell, pulled my sword from his grip and then stabbed him in the back before he could rise. He screamed, I roared and looked around for more.
The warehouse was carnage. The Blood Hydra was beginning to dissolve. Dozens of Vampires were dead or wounded. Renoit stood with Git and Murith. The two armoured vampires were dead, but the swordsman was bleeding, clutching his ribs while Git administered a salve. They must have been skilled to hit Renoit and it was fortunate that Cinder did not have more like them. I missed Berkhilda at first and thought she must have been in pursuit of Cinder. Then I spotted her kneeling over a body, and felt the bloodlust leave me.
Bull lay dead; a crossbow bolt in his head. Berkhilda, blood making a crimson trail on her cheek, said a prayer to Furis as she held him.
“Cinder was aiming for me,” Berkhilda said as I came up next to her.