Author's Note:
Hey guys, I'm back! This one's a bit short, but hope you like!
A slash...
Another,
another,
another...
White fire blazed wherever it struck, and it struck everywhere. He could barely feel anything but this blinding pain.
The king held up his arms, but the blades rained down on him mercilessly.
By the gods, if he could only see!
The blackness had enveloped him, leaving him with nothing but pain and a question of whether he even had a body anymore. If he had one, it... felt...different. It felt heavier, slower, as if gravity's pull had increased by ten times. It was by no means a comforting feeling. He found it quite disturbing, actually.
He screamed as white-fire cut deep into his sternum, and his large, heavy feet stumbled backwards. Not until moments later did he realize his screams weren't his — they couldn't be. He couldn't roar.
He shook his head and snorted —
(what!?)
in confusion. What was going on? He would rather face Hylia again than endure this... Another blade sliced into his arm and he roared in anger and lashed out in a wide-spread sweep. He mentally startled when he felt his monstrous arm collide into something — or rather, four little pudgy somethings.
He snorted again and backed away. What on earth could those things be? Somethings that little couldn't possibly hurt him so much, could they? Did he hit something he wasn't supposed too? The king shook his head, trying to shake away his bemusement like a dog shakes away his flees.
His ears flicked and alarm bells pinged shrilly in his head, but before he could react, a searing, burning, ripping pain exploded in front of him.
By the time he regained sense through all the white, he began to feel the rawness of his throat. Something screamed terribly in the distance, a beastly, hideous shriek of a dying animal. It almost sounded like a squealing pig of all things...
His body felt different again, but...less heavy. It felt like it might have a few pieces missing, actually... That couldn't be right...
Goddesses help me... he prayed through the pain-induced tears.
He felt wet all over, cold too, and getting colder by the minute.
He had died, hadn't he?
As if in reply, he heard a sharp cry, one of a young boy no less, and something plunged into his chest. Death should have come swiftly, but by some cruel twist of fate, he felt everything. The squealing came back, and his throat felt on fire, but that amassed to the rest was nothing.
He heard talking in the distance of young voices, and finally, blackness came. He welcomed it this time.
Author's Note:
Geez, video games are violent, aren't they? I'm going to have to change the rating now... '-_-
If you guys haven't already figured it out, I'm writing out all of Ganondorf's deaths. I'll try to keep it in chronological order, but... eh, we'll see. :)