**WARNING LAST NIGHTS DREAM** I stood upon a hill in the center of a clearing surrounded by trees. Behind me is a massive stone. Stuck in the ground before me are two crossed spears, one trident like with 3 prongs, and the other with a leaf shaped blade with ogham (Celtic druid writing) down the center. On my hip is a sword, and a bearded axe. I’m dressed as a Celt during the time the Vikings had invaded the second time. It’s raining. Massive droplets soak through my rough cotton shirt, and wool pants almost instantly. In the trees I can see eyes moving closer. I hear a distant howl and from the shadows step werewolves. I don’t feel fear, just anger mixed with sadness. I stepped forward drawing the spears from the ground and began to stride forward. The wolves charged forward, I raised my trident spear throwing it. It makes a shriek similar to the screech of an eagle as it flies through the air impaling one wolf through the stomach. I then twirl my second spear into both hands and use it to thrust into wolves, and keep them at bay. Until finally I notice their numbers are getting to great. I finally imbed my spear into ones chest and draw forth my sword and axe. Times passed. I don’t know how much. I’ve only the blood, bone, and screams of the creatures around me to even know time still moves. Adrenaline keeps me going nothing else. There is suddenly a loud familiar howl, and from the woods steps a large lycan, gray and covered in scars. On his wrists were the remains of chains. It growls, and I scream back. It charges as do I. I know this wolf better than all the others. Because it is me, and I am it. And one of us must die.
Posted on: Fri, 04 Jul 2014 00:57:50 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015