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   Chapter 37 No.37

The WeatherMaker Hearts Desire By Lady Lilium Characters: 5652

Updated: 2018-07-10 12:04

'You've never done anything like this before?' Shawn asked his father.

'No. We haven't.'

Shawn shuddered, resting his hand upon the sword at his side. 'How exciting' he said.

The other men they had brought with them mumbled to each other and exchanged nervous glances. It was clear they felt uneasy; it was so unlike anything they were used to.

Farrell standing ahead of all of them ignored their quiet discussions. He took a deep breath and ventured forwards, into the tunnel. The light soon was gone from above them, but there was still an unnatural light to be found. He didn't know what it was, but the walls themselves seemed to glow in places, a strange sickly greenish blue colour. These patches were always high above their heads, closer to the ceiling of the massive tunnel. Squinting, Farrell thought they looked like some kind of slime. It was a thing he had not seen before, as if it was from out of this world.

'What is this?' Arlen whispered as he gazed about them in wonder, sticking close to Farrell as they walked.

'I don't know' Farrell whispered back. 'It's…strange.'

The small group reached a section of the tunnel were the paths branched out in two different directions. They split up, and continued walking, until the group that Farrell walked with, now halved in size, reached another section where the tunnel branched off again, this time into three.

This continued for a time until Farrell was alone, walking through the dim place feeling utterly lost and out of his depths.

He began to worry that he might not find his way out again, as the path he followed began to twist and turn and plunge ever deeper into the earth. It was when he started to think that he would never find anything, that he saw it.

A colossal beast that filled the entire tunnel before him, it was a monstrous thing, a great mass of pink fleshy skin with two massive arms that pulled it forwards. Its torso was deformed and twisted, and at its head were several smaller flailing arms of different sizes that grew out from a mouth in the centre. The mouth was nothing but a circle of sharp teeth, with no jaw. Behind this and growing in a disorganised mass around the torso were a collection of eyes and smaller mouths and horns.

It was an abomination.

Farrell screamed in terror, automatically drawing his sword without a second thought. The beast had seemed to loom out of nowhere, so tedious had his ventures become, he was becoming used to the same tunnels he walked over and over again. When he did see it, it caught him off guard, in its sudden appearance and its grotesqueness. Instantly the monster lunged at him, its vast mouth a pit of teeth and blackness.

Farrell rolled to the side, out of the path of the hurtling beast. It missed him. It was slow, cumbersome. Farrell backed a

way, holding his sword in both hands as the thing turned in the tunnel, dragging its great tail around to face him again. It moaned, groaning, sounding as if it was in agony, as if its very existence caused it pain.

An arm, one of the many that surrounded its mouth, shot out towards him. It grabbed his sword, squeezing until its tiny hand bled, then drew sharply back, pulling the sword with it and tossing it away.

Farrell turned and tried to run, but the creature, though it moved slowly was bigger than him, and was able to catch him in a few short moves. Farrell was shoved forwards, falling on his front, the creature bearing over him, slapped one of its hands down upon his arm. Farrell cried out in pain, his voice echoing through the tunnels. He drew a knife out from his belt, stabbing the creature in the arm that held him down. The beast drew sharply back, moaning and cradling its injured limb.

Farrell shuffled back away from the thing, holding his own injured arm to him. There was no way he could outrun it, it could catch him; he knew this.

He gritted his teeth in determination, grasping the knife tightly in his hand.

The beast before him recovered, rounding on him again. It groaned, crouching back as if preparing to lunge for the second time.

Farrell drew his knife to the ready. The creature moved itself forwards, jaw gaping.

There was movement suddenly before him; something grabbed Farrell, shielding him from the beast. Farrell heard the monster groan again in pain, hearing it stumble back.

Farrell looked up, seeing his brother kneeling over him.

'Arlen?' he breathed.

'Are you alright?' Arlen asked him.

Looking over Arlen's shoulder, Farrell saw what it was that had stopped the beast. Brice had attacked the beast with his son Shawn following his lead; they had cut it deep, taking it by surprise. They had come between the beast and Farrell, just as Arlen had run to protect him. Brice was the sword, and Arlen was the shield.

Brice spared a smug grin back towards Farrell, a gesture to tell him that he had him covered. Other men were arriving now, soldiers of the king. They pushed back the creature, waving flaming torches in the air. The thing began to wail pathetically, shaking its body and backing away from the flames in fear.

Brice approached Farrell as the beast moved away. 'Are you alright brother?'

'You would risk your lives for me?' Farrell asked them both in awe.

'Of course' Arlen said. 'You're my brother. I love you.'

Brice coughed uncomfortably beside them, mumbling incoherently something that sounded sarcastic.

'What is that thing?' Shawn asked in wonder, staring up at the creature as it continued to back away down the tunnel, moving further from them as it was pushed back by the fires the king's soldiers held.

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