Author's Note: I know my other stories are TOO short, so I tried to make this one longer. I'm also goin to take down and try to lengthen it as well. PLEASE review!
Disclaimer: I don't own Berserk, or any of the characters in this story. I am making no money from this.
It wasn't supposed to BE like this!
I thought that over and over again as I grasped the reigns of the horse that had had it's rider eaten off of it. As I did so my left hand throbbed with pain, courtesy of the dark, caped creature who had seared us with brands. I had reached out to grab the one that flew at me. Foolish thing to do to with an enchantment, or whatever the hell type of dark magic is was, I'm aware. But my reflexes are often faster than my thoughts.
I managed to mount the terrified horse and dug my heels into it's side. I had no idea where I was going to go, but here was no an option. I will not die here, I vowed. As soon as I thought it I knew it was probably an empty promise. I knew I was all talk more of the time than I liked to be. Not that I wouldn't try to escape, though. Not that I wouldn't try.
My eyes searched frantically for another soul as I veered the horse in different directions, evading the demons. I still couldn't believe our fate. There was no place in the world that creatures like this could exist. I tried to push my fear as far from my mind as I could. It wouldn't be any good to me now. My eyes kept looking. There was still room on the horse. I could take someone with me, save someone. I couldn't live with myself if I tried to escape alone, leaving everyone else here. Here.
came the shout.
It was Pippin. He was fighting...something. Something enormous. Caska was standing right behind him. Instantly I knew what he was suggesting, and I was there, throwing her in the saddle infront of me in the blink of an eye.
She protested loudly, saying that we should go back for Pippin, help him. But Pippin was one of the strongest, largest fighters I had even heard tell of - and I had heard a lot of tell - and if he couldn't kill that beast there was no hope that Caska and I could make a dent.
We're not going back! I snapped. I explained - shouted really - that she was our leader now, and that it was important that she survive. That if she still existed, so did Taka No Dan.
That I did believe. What I didn't believe, not fully, was that any of us would make it out alive. Not that I wouldn't try, though.
Behind me I heard the giant, horned, leach mouthed monster biting, screeching, tearing, and I said my farewells to my friend Pippin in my heart, knowing that he had intended it as his last stand.
And this was mine.
The horse was running fast, but the beasts were moving fast as well. There seemed to be no way to outrun them, not matter how hard we tried. But the horse did have two riders, and that did weigh it down.
On your right! Caska screamed.
Blinding pain rushed through my arm as the creature bit down. I had never known such an incredible pain before, and I had been very close to death many times. Just before it pulled me off the horse, Caska quickly stabbed it in the muzzle and it released my arm.
Or what was left of it.
It had been maimed to the point where my forearm looked to be hanging off a fleshless bone of an upper arm. But I guess my body had gone into shock, or something, because I couldn't feel it - it was completely numb. Caska asked if I was okay, and I assured her that I was. Once again, I was all talk. But what good would it do her to panic?
Struggle, struggle to the very end! I heard the words flowing out of my mouth and believed every last one of them. I still kept hope that we may escape. Belief? That was another story entirely. But hope one always had, even in the darkest of hours. I told her what it meant to never give up, even as she protested that she wanted to be with the others, swords unsheathed, when we died. But I knew what was that way, the way we had come. Certainty of a painful death. This way the path was little better, but there was still that little spot of hope, eternally shining.
Of all the things I ever told her, I hope that that stuck the most, the part about never giving up.
Suddenly, our horse was eaten out from under us, and we went flying off of it. Good thing too, or else the flat creature crunching on those equine bones would have been crunching on ours right then too. And hey, five more minutes of life could be an eternity.
Except a whip creature was drawing towards us with frightening speed, already getting ready to tear our flesh. As I saw the first whip approaching, I rolled over Caska inspite of the pain that wracked through my body. Since mine was already torn to shreds, I figured that I could at least spare her some pain. And I didn't want her to get hurt. And I didn't really want to think about the real reason right this moment.
As the whips sliced through my armor was if it weren't even present, she was screaming that I should move and let her bear some of the beast's fury. But that wasn't an option. Then once again I felt pain searing through my body the likes of which I had only experienced once before, and that was about five minutes past. The creature had impaled me with something. Perhaps that tips of the whips. Perhaps claws. But I guess that it really didn't matter - impalement is impalement.
As I grimaced in pain, she looked up into my eyes and asked me why.
I couldn't tell her why, and it wasn't just that the creature had pierced my lungs.
As it withdrew, I rolled away from her and threw my very last knife. I heard it shriek in pain and I knew I hit it. Caska rushed past me and it shrieked even more. Good. As she returned, I told her that she should run. More than anything I wanted her to get away. I had hope that she could still make it. I had tried, but I could feel that it was not to be. My life was draining from me even now.
But it was her turn to show me something about struggling to the very end, as she pulled me to my feet and made me walk. For the first time I could remember, I, Judeau, was made to eat my own words. Well, at least she had been paying attention.
I tried to say it in those last few moments, while I was still alive and nothing was attacking. I tried with everything left to say those words I had been holding back forever. Those simple, little words. They couldn't do any harm or embarrassment now. You always thought you were a smooth talker, but you couldn't say this, the one important thing. The last thing left to say.
I always knew I was all talk, and I told her so. She was still getting me to walk. But it was too late for me. And I couldn't say it. She was looking at me. In vain, I tried my voice, and said, You know, you sure cry a lot.
So these are to be my final words?
And so I hadn't said it. But looking into her eyes, as I slid off of her arm and into the darkness that pooled up from all directions, I thought maybe she knew. In that last glimpse of life before death, I still saw that little spark of hope, though it was meant for her and not for me - and I wished her farewell and luck, for she would need it.
And with her last call of my name, my last stand came to it's close.