Mistake

Everywhere he looks, long shiny grass and bountiful trees, swaying gently with the warm breeze. The light from several suns filtering through the thick mist, painting the sky with countless humid colours. Lakes of mud dot the landscape, each at just the right temperature to bathe and play. Nests filled to the brim with great round eggs, succulent and ripe for the picking. Hunks of plump meat as far as the eye could see, the most delectable of scents wafting from them in such an enticing manner.

This….this he couldn’t hate.

What’s this, there’s a light approaching. He stands up, curious, watching it come closer. Should he worry? No, he’s not worried. It is a big light. A bright light, intense, ethereal. And yet it is warm and comforting, beautiful, pleasant. He is not afraid of this light. He welcomes this light.

Before his eyes it changes, this light. It gets solid, somehow. It is a girl light, lithe, delicate. Arms extend forward and around him, touch his chest. She embraces him. He doesn’t fight the light. He wants to embrace the light. So warm, so sweet is the light. Her fingers touch his cheek, his hair and lips. There’s a face in the solid light. There’s a woman face in that light. And she smiles at him. He smiles back.

And then he sees. So clear, so sudden. The hooves, the freckled skin, the wild, flowing hair.

The scarlet eyes.

He screams. She giggles. It goes deep within him, rattling within his head and mind and soul. Everything is different now. Ochre and red and bitter and foul and nauseating at once. He shoves her away, and she just keeps smiling, winking at him. There is no warmth now. Only hate. Hate. Make her pay. Make her suffer. Hate. Hate. Hate.

With another yell he lunges at her, but then she’s gone, taken by the wind like ash. It is then that he looks around, and all burns. The grass is black and charred, the trees are twisted torches, the colourful foggy sky now smoke and cinders. There are voices. Angry voices. Lots of voices. Louder, louder

They come. Black figures with weapons of shadow. Horse legs of all sizes bursting from the ground itself. They swarm all over, coming from every direction to strike him. They don’t stop. They won’t stop. Let them come! He’s strong! The strongest of all! He’s going to kill them! He will kill all of them!!”

She’s there again. Smirking deviously from the back while those hordes throw themselves at him. Those scarlet eyes locked in his, so triumphant. Still giggling, that horrible noise, echoing through everything there is, ringing, stinging,


Hate. HATE.

Everything is red. He only sees in red. His attackers are pushed back, and they disperse. He rushes through the inferno, straight to her. She spreads her arms, welcoming him. The red grows darker. He reaches her. Kill her. KILL HER.
She’s not dying.

He claws and snaps at her, he punches and tears at her, but he’s not doing anything. His hands pass through her. Like fighting thin air.

Her smile grows into a grin

He can’t kill her. He did it once, but now he can’t. As much as he tries he can’t do it.

And he can’t take it.

Why won’t you go? Why won’t you leave me alone?


…..But he knows that answer, doesn’t he?


Perhaps…..

It is that no

NO

NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO

She’s still looking at him. Her grin is bigger now. Her grin is of great amusement. She’s licking her lips

And then she kisses him

And her mouth feels a thousand times bigger


“GWAAAAAHHHH!!!”


Grendel started awake with a slurred scream, the burrow shuddering with the short burst of flailing his limbs gave from the shock. It took a good while for him to orient himself; the morning sunlight that got inside was blinding his mucous-laced eyes, his mouth was uncomfortably dry, and worst of all there was a intense throbbing pain in his head, like something was squeezing his skull from within. His human half wobbled between the clawed soil-walls of the hole, and then he buried his face in his hands.

It was a nightmare. Just another nightmare to add to the pile, no different from all the others he had. That was the end of it. But, ugh…why did his head ache so much?

A sudden cramp in his gut and copious watering of his mouth put those thoughts to a halt. His twisted mouth tightly shut, the squamataur turned around and crawled out of the burrow as fast as he could. Half-sleep as he was, as soon as he reached the outside world he half-collapsed and finally threw up the contents of his stomach. What remained of his last dinner along with some sort of brown liquid, splattering noisily over the weedy soil and forming a steamy puddle. Grendel remained in that position for several minutes, his strength worn out as if squeezed from him, his head pain growing indistinct as he felt increasingly unsteady on his claws, gasping the cold morning air in deeply. What the hell..?

Then he noticed what lied a few inches away from him. There in the grass was a lone wagon, not much larger than Grendel’s own head, made of wood and steel in the shape of a great barrel. A huge hole had been torn on its front. Some of the brown liquid was inside

Giving a furious growl, the titan swatted away the empty wagon, shattering it into uncountable shards once it hit a distant rock. Cursed manlings and their drinks! He should have seen it coming when he raided that caravan, but noo, he had to get curious and think with his throat instead! You IDIOT! NEVER DO THIS AGAIN!

Wiping his mouth with the back of a hand, Grendel staggered back towards the burrow, grumbling loudly to himself. The strain of the experience had done away with his energy, and he’d rather continue resting until he pulled himself together. And the bilious aftertaste in his mouth kept his mind from thinking about food anyway. Once again he slumped on the leafy carpet of the den, and sighed wearily

It was always the same mistakes.