Hi, this is my first fanfic. Woo. If anyone wants to read more, I'll write more - it would be a darker and more 'realistic' take on Rick Riordans fantasy world (in the sense that there's blood, mortals may die, things are sad and not partitioned into everything-happens-in-the-summer). Leave a comment telling my I'm bad, I don't mind, but any positive or constructive comments will definitely help enthuse me into writing more. I grew up with these books, and would love to write more but I just need a little push :) Anyway, here's my little pilot/teaser. Jaffa out.
Rain hammered the mud-ridden road, driving rivulets of water into sweeping rivers of slick dirt that swirled around the duellists, standing as if they were stone amid the roaring wind. Dark fur, matted by grime and gristle whipped in the tempest, gargantuan muscles and tendons trembling in anticipation. Below great horns, chipped and worn by countless blades, the eyes of the beast blazed with malice and finality at the man before it. He stood less than half of the monsters height, but undaunted by the wind and rain; lithe and broad, strong muscles defined by his soaked shit. His gaunt posture forged rigid by the battle ahead, once proud shoulders hunched in preparation. For months he had waited for this moment; for his vengeance. The full weight of his anger and loss burned through his haunted gaze – like a blazing sun unveiled by unwilling clouds, totally at odds with his calm demeanour. Hoofs stirred, clouds of steam billowing from flared nostrils as sheets of lightning brought the sky crashing down. The man inhaled slowly, with the slightest tremor as his lungs filled.
His weight shifted, the balls of his feet grinding laterally into the treacherous surface for greater purchase. The air smoothly left him, this time without trace of unease as his eyes narrowed. The wind grew quiet. A great baying filled the air as the beast lurched into movement, bunching thighs driving great cloven feet into the arena with muted thuds. The man didn't move. His heart beat faster with every bound, his breath following suite as adrenaline flooded every inch of his being. Time slowed; the enemy moved with languorous rage, horns bearing upon him. The earth shuddered as the minotaur charged; accelerating faster than any observer could react, traversing their separation in seconds as the wind picked up, bringing more lashing rain and rumbling thunder. With consummate and practiced ease, he slipped to the side and the behemoth charged past, triumphant roar cut short by enraged snorts. It wheeled around, catching sight of the slim figure as he stood, poised and ready to fight. This time, they both moved; a tall man, rendered minute by his opponents' raw power and scale ran without hesitation towards certain annihilation.
The slow mind of the beast finally ticked over, and it stretched its great arms out to prevent the same mistake, putting them right where he wanted them. It bellowed as the man leapt forward, kicking off from the driving knee of the beast into the air, somersaulting over and grasping the horns firmly; The shaggy head, poised to skewer and throw, was torn back as the hooved feet slipped on mud. Its enraged roar became a startled howl as the creature fell back, crashing into the ground with a bone shattering thud and the hero rolled and regained his feet, walking slowly away from the beast with clenched fists. His path arced back, his fair face a mask of cold fury tempered by concentration turned towards the winded monster as it staggered to its hooves. He was within reach; filthy eyelids narrowed and a clawed fist swung with staggering speed through the air where his head had been, a strong arm – dwarfed by the colossal beasts - wrapped around the joint and twisted. The fist went awry, forced by its own momentum and the torque from the man's effort back and down, hauled behind the hairy back and beyond its natural movement. A shattering crack split the air as bones broke and tendons tore, joined by pained howls. He let it stagger forward, its eyes now burning with unbridled hatred and filled with pain as it swung around. A leg swept forward, catching a hoof and bringing the beasts weight down onto its knee.
Thunder crashed in synchronicity with a blinding flash, and the mans foot slammed into the monsters jaw before it could react. It fell onto its back, tongue lolling between a crushed jaw. He stood over it, impassive as the monster cried out in agony and rolled onto its side. The good arm gave way, the beasts breath cut short as it slammed into the ground on its front. Involuntarily, its head was forced back by strong hands gripping the reddened horns.
"You're the last." Spoke a calm voice, its tone moderated so well it could only be hiding intense passion.
"The rest have fallen. You're the last one." The words were accompanied by a sharp tug on the horns, drawing an anguished groan from its throat.
"I saved you till last." The voice rasped, closer now to the war-torn ears, the careful synthesis of the voice broken by fury. A horn cracked from the immense weight, breaking off and slamming the beasts' cheek against the road. Its final breaths blew water and mud away into a starburst pattern. A chattering gasp forced its way from the bloody lips as the horn pierced its former masters heart. Huge muscles grew still as the fear and pain drained from the beasts' eyes, its form falling into sand and washing away as the crater in the chest grew, slowly engulfing the entire body. The man stood amidst the dissolving foe, watching the waste drain from between his feet and wash downstream. He drew in a deep, uneven breath; releasing it in a sharp sigh and squaring his shoulders. He turned away, his face warmed by the sun now peering through the dispersing clouds over the tall hill, a shadow thrown almost to him by a tree at its peak.
The hunt was over.
And the hunted won.