Henry and Thomas didn't like to venture down to the deep, dangerous forests of Yharnam. They had both heard the rumours of the things that lurked in that god forsaken place; but the city was full of bloody hunters at the best of times, and neither of them had any intentions of incurring their wrath tonight…not this night. No…no tonight, beasts and hunters, best to avoid both.
"Are you sure this is a good idea"? Henry asked timidly. He had been trying to hide it, but he was absolutely terrified. It had been Thomas's idea to leave the safety of the incense shielded house, not his, and he had so begged him not to take the risk.
"Course it's safe" said Henry, with an accusatory tone "don't tell me you're getting cold feet already".
"No, I'm just not convinced that this was the best place to hide". He said this even more timidly, he didn't like his older brother when he was being stubborn like this. "It's full of beasts."
"Not tonight" he said confidently, slowing his pace to walk alongside Thomas. "They're all up at the healing church, being ravaged by those murderous prats."
"Yeah…but"-
Henry suddenly swerved in front of Thomas, towering over him. "Look"! He snapped, his hands bunched into fists at his sides, "It's a damn side safer in this grotty old wood than in that beast infested bloodbath of a civilisation, trust me"!
Thomas opened his mouth, considered for a few moments, and then closed it. "I guess so."
Henry seemed to calm slightly at this: the tightly clenched fists loosened and his scowl relaxed back into his adventurous expression.
"Come on", he said enthusiastically, clapping Thomas on the shoulder, "we're nearly there."
With that, Henry began to jostle Thomas faster and faster down the dank, ill lit dirt path, deeper into the forest. It was getting darker. In fact, the only thing that was emitting light this deep in the forbidden woods was the moon, the blood Thomas moon of the hunt.
It shone menacingly in the inky starless sky, as if watching them both. It was strange, somehow, even though he knew it was just the same moon as any other night, when he walked in its uncanny glow…he felt its gaze…as if it was an omniscient god of the hunt.
"Where are we going again" Thomas inquired, still making sure to keep his tone rather neutral so as not to annoy Henry again.
"I told you", he said turning around and smiling pleasantly "Byrgenwerth."
"Yeah, you kept saying that but what does it mean"?
Thomas was calmed slightly by his brothers more cheerful tone, but his concern was that, despite this Byrgenwerth place being very famous, he had never hear of it before. The fact that nobody he knew had ever mentioned it either made Thomas sceptical. The whole thing made Thomas start to think that his brother was following unreliable rumours.
"Well" Henry stretched and yawned as he thought of how to describe it. "Picture this, just beyond this forest; there's this old observatory there, that's Byrgenwerth."
"Ok…so what's so special about an old observatory"? Thomas asked, genuinely curious.
"It's to do with where it is" Henry said jovially.
"You said it was by the lake"
"Yeah, just imagine it: a big wall of wood between us and where all the beasts are going, and that's not even the best part."
Thomas stopped walking for a moment and looked inquisitively at his older brother. "What's the best part?"
A wide grin spread over Henry's face when he heard this question. He seemed to have noticed that he had peaked Thomas's curiosity.
"They tell me…" Henry stated slyly, pausing for dramatic effect in a way that made Thomas roll his eyes, to Henry's obvious dismay.
"They say that there are special hunters there" he said, in a colder tone, "Hunters that don't go berserk on the hunt."
Thomas looked at his brother like he was talking in a strange foreign language that he had never encountered before. Henry's eyes met Thomas's and he returned the puzzled expression.
"You're not serious, right?"
"Of course I am"! Henry said, in an offended tone. "They've got this special blood or something, which lets them keep their minds when the hunt comes around."
Thomas kept on staring at Henry and began to shake his head in amazement. It was unprecedented for his brother to be this gullible. He was always easy to fool when tackling smaller less important subjects, but he was always considered a good man of action, not the raving lunatic Thomas saw before him.
"So someone told you that in a creepy old observatory in the middle of nowhere surrounded by beasts; has special hunters inside it that can resist the call of beast hood and retain their sanity during the hunt?"
"Precisely"
"AND YOU BELIEVED THEM!?"
Henry jumped at the sudden exclamation and frowned at his brother. "If you keep yelling like that, the beasts will be digesting us before sun up."
"Oh says the guy that was just screaming his head off at me "!?
They stared at each other lividly for a few moments, before a series of gunshots and shrieks back in the direction of the town spurned them on, not talking to each other this time.
The path began to grow narrower and the tree line had become thicker than ever. Thomas and Henry were now almost in complete darkness. On either side of the now tiny foot path they walked on, Henry and Thomas could see all manner of disgusting beasts. They all seemed to be crawling in the direction of the town now far behind the two of them.
Their cold yellow eyes were unblinking in the darkness, flashing menacingly on their brother's slick, black fur. Neither of the two wished to stay in this cold creepy rode so they pressed on even faster.
Thomas was extremely nervous that they were going to be spotted but had noticed that no beasts had even looked their way so far, even though they had night vision and could see clearer than in the day. And even if they were blind they could still smell you.
"What's going on" Thomas whispered to his brother, who was walking single file in front of him. "Why are they not attacking us"?
"I told you" Henry murmured confidently "Off to the town for a good slaughter, aren't they"? He twisted his head around, still walking and smiled broadly at his quivering little brother. "See, this was a good idea, while they draw all of the beasts to that prissy little village, we can just sit back and rake in the sweet peaceful safety."
They crept onward on the ever narrowing footpath for several minutes in silence, listening intently for any disturbances in the monotonous racket of beasts tearing through the undergrowth towards Yharnam. The air was getting steadily colder as the coast drew nearer. They both started to shiver, their thin clothes suddenly seeming rather inadequate.
They only stopped walking when they reached a fork in the road. One path was downhill and off to the right of the direction that they had originally intended to head in. The other was a very thin, bramble covered path that went in the correct direction. The two brothers looked at each other, uneasy looks plastering their faces. They had hoped for this possibility to not occur.
"Which way you reckon"? Henry asked quietly, inclining his head towards the small path. "Straight on?"
Thomas surveyed the path, it looked too small for even one of them to walk through. There would be no progressing down that path unless they could artificially widen it, and they hadn't the equipment for such a task. He then looked at the wider path. It was dirt, like the other one, but this path lead into an unpleasant looking swamp, and was in the wrong direction after all.
"I…I'm not sure" Thomas murmured slowly.
Henry swore and shuffled his feet impatiently. "Stay here" he said confidently, "I'm going to climb up on that rock and see where we are."
With that, he walked up to a large bolder that stood to the right of the wide path. It must have been at least 20 metres high. Henry clambered onto it and began climb. Thomas watched intently, prepared to break his brothers fall if he lost his grip.
He almost did when he was three fourths of the way up and both brothers suffered a shared semi-heart attack. Within about 5 minutes of incredibly cowardly rock-climbing, Henry reached the top of the bolder and started to look around.
"You see anything"?
"No, just more woods, I can't even see the sea"
Thomas slumped miserably. 'Great' he thought 'now we're lost.' He was contemplating throwing something heavy at his brother on his way down, just to spite him for his stupid plan, when Henry started yelling again.
"Wait, there it is! Oh my god! We're almost there!"
"Brilliant!" Thomas yelled back, his enthusiasm reawakened. "What direc…"
He didn't finish his sentence. He felt a strange breeze hitting his back, a hot, foul smelling, and consistent breeze. Thomas wheeled around and was greeted by its source in the form of a colossal roar from its wide ravenous mouth.
The force of the sound shocked Thomas so much, that he tripped over his own feet while backing away. Still crawling away on the floor, he surveyed the creature with mounting terror.
Its skin was a horrible brownish pink, its fat body seemed to wobble and glisten in the darkness. From its bulbous torso, four powerful limbs extruded, each ending with a hoof the size of a grind stone.
Its snout was as large as a pumpkin and its ears flapped limply on its head like bat wings. Its mouth, wide enough to swallow a post box, hung open to reveal a small row of yellow, rotten teeth and a drooling purple tongue. Its eyes were black, narrow and sinister, bearing down on Thomas with a sickeningly gluttonous hunger. It was a man-eater boar.
"Hey, Thomas! What's going on down there"!
Thomas was so petrified that he couldn't speak, he merely backed away as fast as his knees could carry him. The great pig seemed to pause for a few moments, perhaps in a cruel mocking case of giving its victim a head start. The reprieve did not last long. A moment later it raised its fat front legs up into the air, intending to smash Thomas into the dirt.
His back hitting the boulder, Thomas's eyes darted left and right, but there was nothing but foliage either side of him - no escape! Thomas could do nothing but watch the monster bear down on him. His legs had gone limp; there was nothing he could do.
WHAM!
A loud crash echoed through the forest, followed by an ear splitting squeal. Thomas could barely stand to open his eyes, but desperately wanted to know why he hadn't been flattened. He saw before him the worst sight yet. The pig was now up on its hoeing legs, snorting madly and beginning to keel over.
"Move!" echoed a voice from the other side of the creature.
Thomas didn't need to be told twice, he knew that if he held his current position any longer, he would be dead meat. Making good use of his now functioning motor skills, he threw himself forward and then darted to the left, landing just clear of the danger zone.
The boar began to tilt, its fat legs no longer supporting it, the great brute began to fall. Its head connected hard with the boulder as it fell and it hit the ground with a force that made the earth around them shake. The pig did not get up.
Thomas sat a few feet away, trying to pull himself together. He had never been so close to death in his whole life. After a few moments of shock, Thomas acknowledged his rescuer. The figure towered over him, silhouetted by the darkness.
Thomas began to fear again, what if this was a hunter? What if it wasn't safe yet?! The figure crouched down and reached out for Thomas's shoulders. As the hands made contact with Thomas's body, they began to shake him violently.
"Hey! You alright?! I didn't hit you did I"?
Thomas instantly recognised the familiar voice. He looked up and saw Henry's face inches from his own, his hands violently shaking Thomas's whole body.
"I'm fine, get off!" Thomas snapped.
Thomas's brother released him with a relieved expression on his face. They both looked over to the prone boar by the boulder. Its head was bloody and ruined. There was a large rock a few feet from where it lay that had not been there the last time Thomas had looked. Thomas turned to Henry, rubbing the back of his head.
"Was that you?"
"Yeah" Henry said with great pride. "I saw that big bastard and pushed this rock of the boulder, collided with its head."
They both looked back at it again.
"Do you think it's dead?" asked Thomas nervously.
"Must be" Henry muttered unconfidently. "Best not worry about it."
Now that the adrenaline of the experience was beginning to waver, Thomas found himself thinking more critically of the situation that had just transpired. This caused him to round on his brother, angrier than he had been all night.
"What were you thinking, are you insane"?! He bellowed in Henry's face. "That great granite chunk could have hit me"!
Thomas stood upright, his posture very similar to his brothers earlier that evening, shouting down a very bewildered looking Henry.
"Reckless idiot! Brainless moron! What the hell is your problem"!
Thomas's verbal outburst was stifled by long, deep breaths. Thomas leaned against a tree, looking livid. Henry stood up in silence and came over to Thomas.
He expected Henry to defend himself, to berate Thomas for making noise or something. But he put his arm around Thomas's shoulder. They looked at each other with blank expressions for a moment. Then Thomas and Henry began to laugh.
"W…we…s-should have died…" Thomas croaked out between ecstatic hoots of laughter
The anger had given way to childish amusement, at being so close to oblivion. The two brothers laughed erratically to themselves despite the existing risk of beasts noticing their cackles, for they were absorbed in their own luck and cleverness. After the adrenaline had subsided, the brothers continued down the path that led to the swamp.
Henry had seen that it would lead them along the landmass at the end of which, lied the observatory. The thick mud and low branches made progression a little difficult, but they managed.
Thomas stumbled and snagged on stray tree branches lying on the bed of the body of water. He seemed to be having far more trouble than Henry, but he expected this was due to his being a bit older and therefore, slightly stronger.
Henry and Thomas had only just caught sight of the exit to the bog, when history repeated itself, in the cruellest of ways. A man-eater boar was standing lazily right in their path. Its fat head seemed to be drooping downwards, as though it was dazed or sleepy.
Nobody moved. Neither brother could dare take his eyes of the monster. They feared that its inclined head could be the bi-product of a past attempt to smash its way through the thick tree roots and branches that surrounded them both. The moment seemed to drag on forever, until Henry broke the silence with a low, faint whisper.
"Any ideas"?
"No" Thomas replied desperately, "we don't have any edge here, if we go forward, it'll kill us."
"…Shit…shit, shit!" Henry muttered furiously under his breath.
It did look kind of hopeless to Thomas. The fact that the pig was on higher ground meant that it would surely see them coming, stunned or not. There was no visible way of going around it without making a lot of noise, noise that would surely rouse the beast. The of course had no weapons with which to fight, and even if they did, Thomas didn't fancy their chances against something as big as that.
Thomas observed the pig more closely and noticed that its eyes were slightly lolled, as if it was on the brink of consciousness. He pointed this out to his sibling who also looked. Sure enough, the pig practically had one eye closed.
"Listen" Thomas said timidly to his brother, "I have an idea."
Henry turned to him hopefully, clearly bereft of any plans.
"Okay" Thomas whispered "It looks dazed, but I don't think we can take it without weapons."
He regarded Henry's disappointed look at the obvious scheme being shot down so soon.
"But listen, I think it would be smart to just wait here, after all it looks like it's either going to fall asleep or get bored and leave right? So let's just wait for it to get out of the way."
Henry looked at the hulking swine and then back to his brother. He looked apprehensive.
"But won't it just smell us"?
"No, the swamp smells stronger than we do; besides, there's no wind to carry the scent."
It took a moment, but this seemed to reassure Henry. He was more a man of action, and he much preferred to deal with problems head on rather than hiding. But this seemed the better option in the circumstances. He didn't fancy becoming that things dinner tonight…of all nights.
And so they waited, for what seemed like hours, though in reality it was probably about 15 minutes. The pig still stood in their path, defiantly still conscious. Its fat belly seemed to be raising and falling slightly quicker, but other than that, it hadn't moved since they had seen it. For some reason, the lack of anything happening was what really gave Thomas a tense feeling.
'This isn't right' he thought to himself. He shuffled uncomfortably in the muddy undergrowth in which they both were crouching. Why hadn't it moved yet?
"This is wrong" Henry murmured slowly, "Maybe we should find another wa-WHATS THAT!"
Henry head had shot around to where his legs were lying in the water, now fully submerged. Henry jerked his legs up and one of them rose with the force. The other merely broke the surface. Clasping tightly around Henry's ankle…was a brown, skeletal hand. And the hand was slowly re-submerging into the depths- pulling him down into with it.
"JESUS CHRIST!" Henry yelled in panic as he frantically pulled his legs left and right, attempting to free himself. Thomas gasped in shock and began following suit, trying to pull him free. The hand was extruding further and further out of the water with each tug, but still held on tight to Henry's leg.
"Come one" Thomas muttered to Henry, who was shaking and gasping with the effort of fighting the pull "One big pull should do it." Following Thomas's advice, both Thomas and Henry began to pull even harder with all their might.
The strength of the two brothers was just enough to wrench the hand off of Henry's leg. This had the unfortunate effect of causing Henry to fly back into Thomas, causing his head to smack into Thomas's face, causing him to fall back a considerable distance. Dazed, blinded by the pain, Thomas attempted to open his eyes and locate his brother.
He could make out a blurry image of Henry was lying, face down in the mud. That would've been bad enough but that's when Thomas saw something else…something that made his near concussion a mere footnote on his list of problems. The hand that had previously been holding his brother had now been completely pulled up…and had brought the owner with it.
A terrible, hot rotting smell filled the air. The creature seemed to once have been a human; the rags that stuck to its neck must have been clothes at some ancient point in time. Two elongated nobly arms extended from the things abdomen.
There were no legs as far as the eye could see. A tangle of muddy frayed hair clung to a decayed dirt encrusted scalp, crowning a face of skeletal black teeth and white soulless eyes. A face so eroded by time and filth that its face, let alone expression, was practically unreadable. Despite this; to Thomas, it was an apparition of bitter hatred.
Once again, history repeated itself. Thomas felt the urge to crawl away, to escape. But his eyes darted back to the creature and then to his brother, who was now beginning to sit up. He was coughing and spluttering, but alive.
The corpse lifted a long spindly limb and slapped it down into the viscous bog and slowly began to drag itself towards Henry. Thomas wished that was the worst part, but he was sadly mistaken again. In the small lake-like area behind the creature, the surface of the water was suddenly broken at several points by the same long, thin, skeletal fingers.
Thomas watched in horror as multiple corpses emerged from the dismal depths of the bog, each with murderous intent in their beastly eyes. The feeling suddenly shot back into Thomas's legs. He knew what this was. These must be some poor fools who lost their way in this filthy place.
They were left to rot in this swamp for all this time; they must prey upon people lost in search of Byrgenwerth, dragging them down to share in their suffering. And now they intended to do the same to Henry. The first of many sets of disgusting fingers were already re-closing on Henry's legs, who seemed to be concussed.
"HENRY! GET UP"! Bellowed Thomas, all pretence of hiding completely evaporated by fear.
But Henry seemed to be in a world of his own, his eyelids were drooping and his mouth was hanging open. He didn't even seem to realise that countless grubby digits were slowly but surely tugging him down to his watery grave.
The hands gripped tight to his right arm, his torso, both of his legs, and one was even reaching for his head. Clearly these things were preying on the weak first. There was nothing for it. Thomas saw that one of his arms was still hanging limply at Henry's side. This was his only chance. Thomas threw himself forward with his arms out stretched for the arm.
SPLASH!
Thomas's vision was momentarily blurred by a large splash of water in his face. He immediately tried to close his fingers on the hand h was looking for. But his hand merely closed on mud. Terrified and confused, Thomas lifted his head. His eyes widened with fear.
Henry was still a ways off from where he had landed. He had fallen short! Some of the creature had disappeared under the surface, surely intending to pull Henry more efficiently from the bottom. Thomas frantically scrabbled forward and grabbed Henry's arm and pulled. But it was far too late.
Henry's whole body save for his head and the arm currently in Thomas's grasp was now under the water. The creeping hands were gaining more ground by the second and, despite all of Thomas's resistance, began to pull Henry under completely. How many were there?
Thomas didn't give up, he struggled and strained to gets Henry's mouth back above the water…but he suddenly felt a cold, wet grasp close on his out stretched arm. He then felt two more close on his legs. Thomas stared helplessly at them before realising that Henry was completely submerged now…and he was next!
As the pull became too great to resist, Thomas directed his gaze to the sky, hoping to catch one last glimpse of it before being pulled down to his watery grave. He blinked…and his eyes grew wide with renewed fear, for in their panic over the swamp dwelling fiends, they had neglected to remember the boar.
Now fully awake, it toward over Thomas and Henry, and this time, there were no droppable rocks to save them. If he had any strength left, he might have screamed, but he could do nothing but stare at the hulking mound of fat and gluttony.
Opening its humongous mouth, the beast let out an earth shattering roar, so staggeringly loud that it even stunned the concussed Henry into self-awareness. Thomas would have clapped his hands to his ears if only he was able…and suddenly…he was able.
Thomas's eyes snapped to his captors, the appendages of whom were now receding with haste. He glanced over and also saw that Henry was struggling to cover his ears and stay above the water at the same time, but his decent had stopped completely. The creatures were releasing them in fear of the pig's wrath and escaping to the bottom of the filthy swamp.
At once both brothers regained both their freedom of movement and peace of mind. This newly found hope was short lived however as another vicious roar from the pig reminded them both of its presence…and intentions.
Henry and Thomas stared hopelessly at each other, this was it, and they couldn't escape this time. If it weren't for the arrow, they would've surely perished right there in the muddy undergrowth.
The bolt met its mark in the side of the pig's flabby body and sunk deep, right to the bright Thomas
feather on the opposite end. The boar squealed in agony and rage, turning its hulking frame in mid stride, it stampeded off into the brush.
It took a few moments for the two brothers lying in the mud to realise that they had survived the standard 'fate worse than death' closely followed by death itself. Slowly…tentatively… Thomas hauled Henry to his feet, and they continued walking.
They, much like before, did not feel the need to talk. To have survived so much while unarmed was really quite unheard of. They knew that this would not be the last of it, but they'd come this far, and they were going to see it through to the end.
The muddy pathway had given to mere dirt and had started to slope downhill once more. Soon the brothers found themselves upon the threshold on a colossal clearing in the woods. The thick brush that surrounded it was so dense that not even darkness could penetrate it, a large ruined structure stood above them, serving as an archway into the clearing.
A thick haze of mist had coagulated on the other side of the clearing, obscuring any ways out. But as their gazes climbed the thick tree line, a momentous sight befell the two brothers. Byrgenwerth observatory was just beyond the brush, its grand observatory so tall; it was blocking the moon from view.
Henry and Thomas both exhaled in relief at the sight of their long awaited destination. They simply stood for a moment, admiring the handsome domed observatory. The mist that clouded their path was not high enough to obscure the large dark windows dotted around it, nor the handsome brass telescope extruding from the domed roof.
"Finally this is it," Henry breathed, a broad grin on his face. "This is the place."
"It doesn't look like anyone's home" Thomas observed the dark windows and deep silence around them.
Henry gave his a sideways look that would normally make him shut up, but their little escapades through those woods had emboldened him somewhat. He merely scowled and moved towards the observatory.
"Let's get going, I want to see if there's anyone inside" said Thomas.
"Best idea you've had all night" Henry smiled, following his brother enthusiastically.
The clearing was slightly muddy, nothing compared to the bog, but still pretty bad. If their shoes and clothes weren't already soaking wet and filthy, the two brothers might have cared. All the same, the mud was slowing them down, making them stumble. Thomas suddenly began to feel paranoid. This was too easy, they had reached the middle of the clearing now and were surrounded by the mist. They could no longer see where they had come from or where they were going.
The sight would have been ominous enough without the dim light that was emanating a few yards in front of the two brothers.
"What's that?!" Thomas immediately stopped and pulled Henry back as he said this, but Henry pulled him off.
"You're being stupid," he sighed gleefully. "The fogs just creeping you out, it's just the welcoming committee, see"?
Thomas looked back at the light and saw what his brother was talking about. Three very tall thin shadows had appeared in the distance. The one in the middle seemed to be holding the small flame in its hand. Thomas was afraid, he tried to back away, but Henry was pulling him forward.
"Uh, please forgive my brother!" Henry called out to the shadowy figures. "He's been through a lot, I'm not surprised he's being jumpy", he laughed. "He-he p-please don't take offence."
Thomas wasn't stupid, he had noticed his brothers loss of confidence towards the end of his speech, he had stuttered and Thomas could make out the fear in his eyes as they both watched the figures draw nearer.
As they got closer, their outlines became better defined, and Thomas noticed that the small flame was emanating from a candle. The figures were also taking the form of hooded men, their hoods masking their true features. Their appearances would have been intimidating enough if not for the weapons they carried. The one holding the candle was also holding a sword in his other hand, the figure to his left also had one. The one on his right was holding a thick spherical mace.
The weapons are what made Thomas stumble. He didn't want to see what was coming. Henry on the other hand, ploughed forward, intent on meeting these mysterious new people. He clearly did not see the sinister implications of the setting and the fact that they were outmatched, both in number and armaments.
"What are you doing?!" Henry called back to Thomas. "Come on, there just the local residents of Byrgenwerth."
"Henry…they're armed" Thomas whimpered desperately.
If Henry was going to reply to this, Thomas would never know, because all he heard was a piercing scream.
In an instant, Henry was back at Thomas's side, sprinting past him in the direction they had just come. He misjudged his footing and slipped, falling to the muddy ground a little ways behind Thomas.
"What's wrong?!" Thomas called out to him.
Henry did not answer yet again; he was instead staring at the figures with hysterical fear plastered on his face. Thomas looked in the direction his brother was staring, and his jaw dropped.
The fog was no longer shrouding the figures at all, and their true grizzly visages were perfectly visible…or rather…there weren't. Each figures face was obscured entirely, by a cabal of writhing, bright yellow snakes. The twisted and hissed furiously as the figures walked, Thomas noticed that the figures were walking quite awkwardly, as if being controlled on puppet strings. It was obvious that they were being controlled by some kind of parasite.
Now the brothers knew why the forest was forbidden. It housed this parasite, and the warnings had been of it, not the beasts. And as the snake-men grew nearer, Thomas admitted it was a more ghastly sight than any lycanthrope.
Henry seemed to have gotten the strength back in his legs, as he was struggling to his feet, in an attempt to run. Unfortunately, one of the figures raised its sword at him, and swung it. At that moment, its arm extended, taking the form of a long snake, stretching like a frogs tongue towards Henry. The blade caught Henry in the ankle and he fell to the ground again, crying in pain.
The blood was very emphasised by the pale fog surrounding Henry as he struggled to stand. The wound was deep and spurting with life-force, forcing Henry to his knees again. Thomas attempted to try and stand himself, but the mud was thicker than he had realised, and just as slippery. Running wasn't exactly an option. Shuffling back on the muddy surface, Thomas gazed up in fear as the snake-men advanced.
Both Henry and Thomas couldn't see any way to fight back. They were without weapons and even if they were armed, there was no way for them to match the strength of three monsters that could still wield weapons. Thomas gave up. He stopped struggling. He stopped hyperventilating. He gave up any and all ideas of escape.
The snake-man loomed over Thomas, its long, thin wrist, now revealed to be nothing but a snake, holding a sword in its mouth, raised it for a second strike. It was most likely going to incapacitate Thomas just like Henry. Thomas closed his eyes, he had been through enough. He was sick of this, this night, this bloody hunt, this world. He wanted it to just end, to be snuffed out like the insignificant candle that he was, and find out what was waiting for him after this miserable life.
In a depressing kind of zen state, he drew his last breath…and then one more…and he kept on breathing, but death didn't come. Instead, Thomas heard the slicing sound of cold steel cutting warm flesh, and a dozen angry hisses. When he opened his eyes, he still saw the creature standing over him, sword raised. However its other arm was about its chest area, where a long curved throwing knife's blade was protruding. Thomas's heart was beating in his throat as the monster was slowly raised off its feet and vaulted over the back of another black shape.
It fell on its back, forcing the blade deeper. The figure then straightened up, revealing itself to be…a hunter! Whoever it was, he was fast. In a flurry of movement, he had planted arrows in the chests of both the other snake-men. They writhed madly but stayed on their feet. The freak holding the candle advanced on him, the snaked vomiting some kind of yellow liquid into the flame.
This made the fire grow and extend in a sort of flamethrower like formation. The hunter nonchalantly stepped to one side of it and used the opportunity to plant another arrow in the fire wielding beasts' sword arm. Just as it stumbled of course, the third attacker acted. It managed to manifest a ball of flame in its own hand, which then exploded outwards into a tri-attack of three airborne fireballs, all zeroing in on the hunter.
But he was ready. Not wasting a second of time, the hunter dashed forward, slipped under the first two projectiles and side stepped the third. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that the fireballs were tracking him, coming back for a second attack. But this seemed to be all part of the plan. Dashing forward, the hunter dodged an additional attack from the candle snake-man's blade and sideswiped his many snake heads clean off with a held throwing knife blade. The headless body slumped to the grounds unceremoniously.
But the hunter kept running, running towards the third creature, who aimed a crushing blow with its mace at the strangers head, but this was parried by the same blade and the hunter utilised the snake-man's disoriented state to get behind him. Stabbing it in the lower back to hold it in place, it couldn't prevent what happened next. Whether it was through some eldritch magic or genetic mutation, Thomas did not know. All he could see by observation was that those flames followed the hunter and only the hunter. This meant that they continued to follow him and, in doing so, all three smashed straight into their casters snake riddled body.
For a few moments, the two figures became engulfed in flames. But when they had dispersed, only one remained standing. The Third snake-man flopped down to its knees and then onto its side, dead. The hunter stood over it, unscathed for a few moments, then looked over at the body by Thomas. Just as he did, a series of hisses stole Thomas's attention yet again. The snakes that had been in the first one's head were still alive! They were twisting and suffering in a tangled yellow mess, trying to escape the hulking neck stump to which they were attached.
It barely had any time to snap a single fanged chomp at Thomas before the hunter was upon them, as his boot drove down onto them, crushing the little buggers to death. It was only at this minimal distance that Thomas finally got a good look at the guy.
He had a tall dark figure, wrapped tightly in an inky black overcoat. He had good posture for a hunter, they're hunched backs often reflected the beasts they hunted. Not this one though. His back was straight and confident. Strapped to his back was a large quiver, full of bolts with Thomas feathers. It was unusual for a hunter to use arrows these days as quicksilver bullets seemed to damage beasts more. Weird. On his hands he wore tight fitting black leather gloves, currently gripping a huge two handed crossbow.
What little hair that Thomas could see was black, but the face and most of the head was concealed beneath and behind both a short black top hat and a white, painted mask. The mask itself was strange as well in design. It seemed to resemble a face, a smiling face. As Thomas inspected it, he realised that it was not a pleasant smile. It was a thin lipped, malevolent sneer, as if of someone looking down on the world from a high horse.
He seemed to stand there for a while, grinding his boot heel into the freak's tainted amoeba, as if watching it hurt brought him satisfaction. As the snakes finally fell silent, he removed his foot from the creature and left it in peace, slaughtered. Turning to the two terrified brothers, he stood surveying them silently for what seemed like forever. Feeling that the situation was quite awkward enough, Thomas spoke up.
"T-Thanks for that" he said shortly.
The hunter did not reply, but he did move a few paces forward, inclining his head down looking at Henry's wounded leg. Henry stared hopelessly back up at him, his phobia of hunters palpable in his expression. The hunter then turned around and walked a few steps in the direction of where Henry and Thomas had come from. Only then did he speak.
"You can't walk...can you"?
His voice was deep, cold and drawling, as if he found this whole situation rather dull. Thomas found it strange that he would draw attention to that, but he had other more pressing questions to ask.
"Who are you?" he stammered out, still reeling from the third near death experience he had survived tonight. The hunter made eye contact with him at this question. His eyes were black slits in the mask and only seemed to make the smile more condescending.
"They call me Chester" drawled the hunter, "But I prefer 'Marvellous Chester'."
"Alright" said Thomas, rather half-heartedly. "Listen, we were on the road to Byrgenwerth, I don't suppose you're fro-"
"There's nobody there" Chester cut across Thomas carelessly, as though he had not spoken at all. "There…were a few beasts left, but I've grown bored of them."
"Well that's not so ba…" Thomas started to speak but a nasty thought crossed his mind and he trailed off. He stared at the hunter with bewildered eyes.
"You're bored of hunting"?
"Hunting beasts".
"What"?!
Chester regarded his crossbow for a moment with his free hand and said:-
"This has always been my favourite type of weapon, but it's not suited to beasts, beasts don't just bleed out, they have to be hacked to pieces. Where's the elegance?"
"But if it's not for beasts…" Thomas began slowly.
"Yes, that's right boy" Chester whispered, a trace of laughter in his tone. "I hunt people."
These words seemed to take a while to penetrate either of the two brothers' consciousness. When Thomas had processed that this man was a hunter of men, he began to back away again through the mud, determined to get to Henry.
"Don't bother" Chester spat, a weird kind of disappointment in his voice, "He's not going to amuse me, not with that leg"
Chester swept over to where Henry was laying before Thomas could even think to stop him. Slowly, almost gently, Chester raised his booted foot again and placed it on Henry's chest, preventing him from moving. Henry wasn't going to take this lying down, (The pun was lost on him at that point), as he violently began to struggle and tried to push the foot away.
This proved useless however as Henry's hand as well as his courage, was stubbed by the crossbow being pulled down to rest on Chester's boot, with the now fastened and drawn back arrow aiming straight for Henry's forehead. His eyes grew wide with fear as his lips trembled, forming incoherent babble that mingled threats with pleas.
Thomas tried to get up, but the mud cause him to slip and he fell to the ground again. His own life wasn't that important to him at this point, but he wasn't going to let his brother die.
"With that leg" Chester proclaimed, so that both could hear him "You cannot run, therefore you are expendable".
Thomas began to cry and yell out to Henry, begging him to do something. He only stopped when Henry spoke to him.
"Thomas…I'm"
T'CHI
Henry didn't finish his sentence, how could he? He was already dead. The arrow had been released the instant the trigger had been pulled, with no delay whatsoever. The arrow had pierced Henry's skull and throttled his brain, leaving a fresh look of terror frozen on his face forever. His final legacy to the world, the monument to his existence, was a scared looking corpse lying in the woods. Thomas had forced himself to get up just before the crossbow had fired. It didn't quite get through to him that Henry had been killed. So many close calls in one night had made him revel in blissful ignorance.
'Maybe he missed'?
'Maybe Henry dodged'?
'Maybe…maybe…'
Thomas saw the pool of crimson gore forming around Chester's feet and finally accepted it. Falling back to his knees, Thomas began to weep. Not only did he weep for his brother, but for his legacy. Everything he ever worked to build and protect, Thomas, was about to be shot and killed, left to rot in some stupid clearing in the middle of fucking nowhere! Thomas couldn't fight, he knew that. Chester had proven more than capable as a hunter and as a marksman. Thomas was at his mercy and he knew it. But he didn't want to die…
Chester took his foot off of Henry's chest and turned to Thomas, his mask seeming to glint evilly in the dark. He viewed Thomas crying in the mud. If there was any trace of mercy, any hint of empathy, even a shred of regret, Thomas would never know. It was all locked behind that mask. The both said nothing for a few minutes, in Thomas's case because he was grieving his brothers grizzly murder; in Chester's case allowing Thomas a customary moment of silence.
This could not last forever, unfortunately.
"Well" said Chester, as bored and drawling as ever "Now that's over and done with, the actual hunt can begin."
Thomas cried on, as though he had not heard. He didn't care to listen anymore, he didn't care about anything, Henry was all he had left and now he…
Thomas buried his face in his muddy hands. Chester stood over him and spoke again in a more assertive tone.
"You're trying my patience, now are you going to run or not"?!
Thomas stopped crying, he must have gone mad with grief, because the psychotic murderer that killed his brother had just told him to…
"Run"?!
"Yes, go on", Chester repeated. "I'm giving you a chance to escape."
Thomas didn't want to leave Henry's remains to be eaten by some filthy beast, but he saw no other option. His brother wouldn't have wanted him to die with him. He strained his legs to move through the mud as hard as he could, and found that he could maintain his balance. Thomas began to make a very slow and clumsy escape.
Chester merely stood, his crossbow unloaded, as his prey made its getaway. Thomas was ungodly levels of paranoid as to what this madman was planning to do. All the same, he could see the opening in the brush which had led them into this nightmare, he was so close. Chester silently slipped an arrow out of his quiver and fitted it into the crossbow, but refrained from pulling it back. Thomas could see non-mud ground just a few paces ahead of him, he was free!
A small click emanated from the hunter as he cocked the crossbow and took aim. He had chosen to fire just as soon as the boy could run properly. He felt that this would pose a greater challenge than just shooting a still target like this dead one. Thomas's right foot hit solid ground and a rush of adrenaline burst through Thomas's body, it felt like he could run for days, all he had to do was get past the tree line!
But Thomas didn't run, he stood ramrod straight and still…listening to the low guttural growls coming from his right. Thomas slowly turned his head with a sick kind of dread in his stomach. There, on all fours, snarling and licking its lips, was a fully transformed Lycanthrope. Its shaggy black fur was swaying in the breeze and its eyes were blood red and hungry. Before Thomas could run, the beast pounced upon him and pinned Thomas to the floor.
"NO-PLEASE"!
But the monster was already ripping him to pieces like a child opening a Christmas gift. Thomas was gone in a matter of moments. His body was unrecognisable as a human corpse. Just bloody pink pulp. The beast wasted no time in digging in, munching down the flesh vigorously. It had not even noticed Chester, standing in the clearing, with his crossbow still loaded. He couldn't believe it, of all the times for a wolf to come along.
Chester turned back to the lad on the ground before removing the arrow from his head and replacing it in the quiver. He did the same with the arrow in his crossbow. He sighed. He had hoped to get a bit more of a chase going with the other one.
Chester looked back at the towering observatory and a real smile formed beneath his artificial mug.
They were never going to make it far. Stupid city children always seem to fall at the first hurdle. But he had been shadowing those boys for a while and had seen their escapades in the woods. It was all sheer luck, nothing more. For there is no mercy, no sanctuary...not tonight...of all night, no...Not this night.