Apex
This is the first story thatI have ever submitted to a website such as this and I am simply looking for feedback, both positive and negative, no matter what the praise/ criticism please leave a comment
Emil pulled his cloak tighter round his broad shoulders and cursed his luck. Three days, three sodding days they'd been wandering round these Gods-forsaken woods, and for what? All they'd seen so far had been the occasional bird circling high above in the still air, and the insects that plagued them incessantly.
Though they had found a few tracks, the scout had lost them almost as soon as she had found them. And to make matters worse it was raining, not the light shower that was usual for this time of year but an outright deluge.
He had used his time, while on the edge of hypothermia and near drowning, to consider his position carefully. He always worked alone, and he always finished a contract within a couple of days. This time the Patrician of Apex himself had set this task for Emil, and had teamed him up with his current group of travelling companions. Though from what he had seen so far, Emil was far from impressed with their skills. A group of four half-brained fools, a scout who in Emil's opinion couldn't find her face with both hands, a druid who was too immature to be let out alone, an apothecary who didn't know the difference between parsley and poison ivy, the young boy who handled the party's pack mule, and Emil himself, the party's bold and noble warrior. All on an happy adventure to hunt down a big scary werewolf that had been supposedly terrorizing the area. As they were travelling through thick woods they had to go on foot, as horses couldn't find a path through the trees.
And he was still convinced that that the contract was a wind up, who believed in werewolves, seriously? But hey, if the Patrician wanted to waste his money on a wild wolf chase, then Emil was happy to oblige him. And 100 gold coins was incentive enough for wandering round the forest for a few days, before returning to court and saying they had found nothing.
Ahead on the trail, Emil could just make out that the scout and stopped and crouched down, though through the gloom he could not see what had caused her to pause. The party cautiously gathered round her hunched form and waited to find out what she had to say. This had better be good thought Emil, he just wanted to finish this and get back to the city. Even if none of them would admit it to themselves, let alone their companions, they wanted to be back in the safety of the city before the full moon dawned.
"We ain't gonna find anythin' in this weather. If there were any tracks, the rain would have destroyed 'em by now". The scout was shouting by the end of this to make herself heard over the noise of the piping wind.
This was all the excuse that the others needed to start heading back to the city.
They stumbled along through the downpour, clothing whipping around them in the wind, tree branches moving as if to try and ensnare them, and their minds filled with the thoughts of spending their money in some of the city' s various dens of depravity: a seat by a roaring fire, a flagon of ale in hand, and a barroom wench perched precariously on the lap.
The particular den that Emil was dreaming of was a dingy little hole near the east gate, where the beer was stale, and was excessively overpriced. But it did have its advantages; mainly in the form of Esme, the bar's serving girl, and Emil knew that 10 pieces of gold would go a long way with her.
After another hour's travel, the rain had stopped and yet there was still no sign of the lights from the city reflected on the dark brooding clouds of the horizon.
Lightning began to stab across the sky, like some twisted weapon of the gods. Its blue light fulgurating around the sky, ruining Emil's night-vision, letting him see his surroundings in short bursts before plunging him back into darkness.
Emil knew the area they now travelled through well, he had spent his childhood years growing up in a nearby hamlet. Back then the forest around the tumbled down hovels had been a source dread for young Emil. The noise of unseen animals lurking among the trees and the wind blowing its death rattle through the branches combined to create a place of nightmares that turned the boy's heart to ice whenever he thought of it. Now was little different. A shiver, bigger perhaps than caused by the rain, ran down Emil's spine and he clutched his sodden cloak tighter around his shoulders. The city seemed further away than ever.
Emil led the group towards an old abandoned chapel in a nearby clearing, all thoughts of reaching the city this night gone from his mind. Instead he wanted the thickness of the chapel's stone walls between himself and the forest.
A high-pitched howl reached Emil's ears, and he just dismissed it as the wind in the trees, intent only on reaching the safety of the chapel. But the scream that suddenly followed it definitely couldn't be put down to the wind.
Emil snapped his head round and began to run towards the source of the scream, drawing the bastard sword from the scabbard across his back as he ran. The worn, familiar, leather grip lending some comfort to Emil as the scene of the disturbance grew closer.
During their trek the group had spread out, but they now converged on the same spot. Almost running into each other in the flickering gloom. Emil did a quick mental headcount, and came up with four when he should have had five. He couldn't see the druid anywhere. Where the hell had he gone? Emil wouldn't have been surprised if he was lost and wandering around aimlessly nearby like the lost child Emil considered him to be. After all, Emil had spent a disproportionate amount of time running round after the healer, making sure he didn't fall or get attacked by any of the flora or fauna that covered the forest floor.
The others began to quickly search round for the druid, calling out his name, though their cries were lost on the wind. Emil began to walk forwards slowly, sword raised, peering into the gloom. He was so concentrated on staring into the gloom that he didn't watch where he was putting his feet.
With a curse he stood, mud and water cascading off cloak and armour. He tried to brush the mud off his face and out of his eyes but his hands were caked in mud and just made it worse. Half blinded, he fumbled for his weapon amid the mud and broken branches littering the ground. He felt something like a rotting log, covered in patches of thick moss and continued searching until he felt the cold metal of his blade and closed his fingers round it.
Emil stood and managed to wipe the mud from his face. Looking around he could not see any of his companions through the trees and briefly thought about searching for them. Instead he restrained this impulse and decided to stay where he was; preferring to stand and wait for what was out there to show itself rather than go looking for trouble. He stood waiting for what seemed an eternity in the stygian gloom.
A flash of lightning illuminating the log in stark white detail, only Emil found that it wasn't rotting log at all. It was the mutilated corpse of the druid.
Emil yelped aloud with surprise and began to run. He began shouting out the names of his comrades, hoping to rally them towards him. Emil knew this forest almost as well as he knew his own face, and he knew of nothing that could that amount of damage to a full grown man in such a short time, even the native savage dwarf bears were scared away by shouting, and the druid had shouted very loudly.
Emil ran towards the safety of the chapel, the branches of the trees trying their best to entangle him and slow him down. Just as Emil struggled free of one such entanglement another scream rent the air. This one longer than the other and a lot closer, ending in a series of coughing sobs. Emil did not waste time searching for who had gone down now; instead he began to run faster.
Through a break in the trees he saw the tumbled down wall surrounding the chapel and its small graveyard, fear lent wings to his feet and he ran faster. He could hear things crashing through the trees on either side of him, but he did not slow to see what they were.
As he burst out of the trees a third scream filled the night air. He sprinted across the open ground to the low wall and sailed over it, hardly breaking stride. Landing amidst mist shrouded graves. Dodging and slipping around the moss covered gravestones through the mist he slid onto the path that led to the chapel door. Behind him he heard something land among the graves.
He reached the stout wooden door and barged into it, trying to push it open, but it had been barred. He hammered on it with his fists, the metal of his sword's pommel barely scratching the aged wood.
A low snarl close behind him made Emil turn slowly. He could not see anything in the mist that had suddenly thickened over the graveyard. The rain had now stopped and the full moon shone down on Emil, illuminating the doorway clearly, while everything else was still shrouded in mist. He saw a dark shape move closer in the swirling mist and threw his sword at it in a defiant yet completely futile gesture. Then the shape emerged from the mist in front of him.
Emil screamed.