Chapter 4: How I chose to fight the end

My pitchfork leading my charge, I barreled toward the goblin at full speed. I lunged the spear forward, but the it batted my weapon away with it’s studded club. A brutal weapon, for a brutal creature. It wore the skin of some animal around it’s waist, and not much more.

I got a good look at it, around 4 feet long, a long almost rodent like face with long pointed ears stretching back behind its sickly green head. Its body was hunched over so far it looked like it would be more likely to crawl than run, yet when it came to swing back at me it moved with explosive speed, almost using the curve in it’s body like a spring. 

Its attack was a rabid one handed swing. Its battle cry was a disgusting growl, that launched almost as much spit as it did sound. I tried to keep my distance, my pitchfork wouldn’t be much use up close, but with every step back I took I was met with another lunge from the creature with another violent swing.

It seems to follow a simple pattern with its swings. From the left side, then from the right. It uses the force of the lunge, to swing upwards at my head. I take a step back, and this time when it lunges, I meet its swing with my pitchforks pole. I feel the vibrations of the impact in my hands, as the shaft of the pitchfork cracks slightly.

I let go with my lead hand and try to grapple this creature to use its momentum against it and throw it to the ground, but I underestimate its density. It feels like trying to catch a cannonball, and the force of its small but sturdy body colliding with me knocks my breath out of me.

I back up trying to catch my breath. I did manage to push him away, but I think I was the only one who got hurt in that particular scuffle. Why did I think I could take these things down. A handful of these things slaughtered this entire village. 

“You damn monster!” My vitriol ridden declaration is met with nothing more than a twisted grin. It lunges at me again, I’m barely able to to block it with the shaft of my pitchfork. My hands feeling the crack of the impact again, and a gain, as it continues its onslaught.

With a guttural growl the goblin swings again. I raise my pitchfork to block, my hands nearly giving out from the strain. This time though the goblin’s club shears through the shaft, sending wood shrapnel all over me,  as the club makes contact with my shoulder, and then my face. I’m sent spiraling, hold two halves of a broken pitchfork.

Dazed I fruitlessly chuck the wooden end piece at the goblin, but bats it away like we’re playing a game. I clutch up on the head of the pitchfork with both hands clinging on to desperate hope. 

It comes again. Not giving me a moment to rest. I’m running on pure adrenaline at this point and stumble out of the way to dodge its attack. I’m only standing because the pitchfork absorbed most of that impact. I can tell that the swing was strong enough to have broken my jaw if it had been a clean hit. I can’t afford to be hit again.

The same pattern again, left then right, front hand, then backhand. I continue my retreat but I need to make a move. Finally I decide to wait for his backhand strike, when he does I stab forward with my pitchfork. I was hoping to stab this abomination, but instead I catch the swing of the club between the tines of the pitchfork. We stand there locked together in this bind. The goblin tries to pull his club out as I try desperately to keep it from his hands. 

I twist and pull, using my pole-arms longer leverage point to my advantage, and manage to wrench it out of his hand. He’s disarmed, but still uninjured. He tries to lunge at me again. I crouch down, after disarming the goblin I don’t have enough time to turn the fork head against him, so I use the next best thing. I plant the fork in the ground, and the goblin collides with the splintered end. The goblin’s momentum takes  when he impales himself on the wood takes him in an arc over me, with the fulcrum point being the ground where the pitchfork is planted.

He’s thrown away from me, but the inertia takes my weapon as well. Luckily, the club I just disarmed him of is within an arms reach. I grab it and, trying to keep my momentum in this fight up, chase the goblin down as soon as his body lands. I raise the club like a bat, and swing as hard as I can. The goblin has no more than stood back up on his feet as the club cracks him in the chin, sending him straight back onto the floor.

Again I follow, wielding the club, ready to strike if it gets up again. It lay motionless on the floor. Motionless, save for the steady rise and fall of its breathing. 

It’s still alive.

The immediate threat gone, I can feel a wave of exhaustion leave my body. As my arms drop to my side, I begin to feel everything that just happened. My hands, my shoulder, my jaw, my teeth, and my cheek. The pain and tiredness are overwhelming. I can’t stop here though. My body might think this situation is over, but my mind knows better.

I drop the club, and draw from my waistband the freshly sharpened dagger I just received. This was made to inflict a quick and easy end. It’s more than this creature deserves, but I need to ensure that it’s over. I walk over to the goblin’s body, looking down on it as I spit out some blood that has been pooling in my mouth.

Pinning the creature down by the arms just in case, I straddle its body and prepare to make the final strike. I grab its head and turn it to the side, exposing its neck. I raise my dagger and get ready to bring it down.

I sense my pulse begin to elevate again. My breathing becomes hard and labored. I look down at this creature with hatred, yet I can’t yet bring myself to do it.

Come on! Come ooon! Just do it! Why am I struggling so much? This thing was ready to kill me, and I was so ready to kill it with every swing I took just a second ago! So why!?

I can’t do this. I’ve never killed anything before. Not like this. I’ve killed bugs and insects, but never something that I could hear its breath. Feel it’s warmth.

This is stupid. Just do it! I stare at my fist shaking as it clutches the blade, as if somehow glaring at it and yelling will make it move.

Ahhhhh! I begin to scream as I motion like I’m going to stab downward, but it never even gets close to its target. 

I begin to tear up, as I scream. Why! Why can’t I do it! It’s just an evil stupid little thing! It would be so easy!

As I sit there wasting time, I feel a twitch of movement in the goblin’s arm. In fear I look back at its face, and I see its eye flicker open, and as they regain focus they begin to stare back at me. As the creature comes back to life, it begins ravenously snapping its mouth at me, the only part it can move.

Terrified again, I scream out again. In my panic I feel my arm drive itself downward, digging my blade into the creatures collar. I can feel the moment the blade tears through the skin, and digs through the flesh until the base of the blade is completely buried in its body. I feel the warmth of its blood as it squelches out onto my hand and body. 

The goblin screaming turns from ravenous to manic. I can feel its struggling to free itself become more and more desperate. The look in its eyes becomes feral, and my screaming becomes more panicked. I begin to pull the blade out, and drive it back in, until slowly the goblin’s frenzied sounds become silent.

Without realizing it the only sound coming from us became the sounds of my screams and my sobbing. Even after the goblin is dead I continue driving my blade into it. The blood covering both of us.

Eventually I become tired and stop. I take a moment to take in what I’ve done. I should be excited, happy that I killed this thing. 

The only thing I can think about is the experience of feeling and seeing the moment life left this goblin’s body. 

I remember the moment it’s eyes glazed over, and I sob into my hands.

I don’t know how long I was there, or when I left. All I remember is the sound of Sarah’s shocked voice as she saw me approaching the well. She dashes out of where she was hiding over to me.

“Dawn! What happened! Are ye alright?” She bombards me with questions as I turn to her in a daze.

“What? Yeah. I’m alright. A little bruised up. But I’m ok.”

“Yuh’re covered in blood! How can ya be ok!?” 

I look down and see my tunic stained with blood, turning its dirty brown color a deep dark shade of red. “It’s not mine, it’s the goblin’s.” I continue absentmindedly walking toward the well.

Sarah looks shocked, “Ye actually managed to kill the bastard? Oh Dawn I’m so glad yuh’re ok!”

“The well Sarah, we need to get to the well.” I bump into the well’s wall, my head still fuzzy from the fight I just had.

“Sure, the well, of course. Are ye sure yuh’re ok? Ye don’ look well.”

The wooden hood has been burned off of the well, leaving ash coating the top of the stones. “Here’s the rope. We need to climb down the rope.” I try to calm myself my repeating what I need to do as my unfocused eyes see the rope still tied around what’s left of the well’s wooden shaft. 

Sarah, looks at me, then looks around scanning for nearby danger. “Maybe ye shoul’ go down first, ye look tired enough if another monster came ye wouldn’t even be able to run.”

I know her trick, this won’t happen like it did in the story. I grab the base of the rope, and give it a tug to see if the wood can still bear weight. “No, you should go first, you wouldn’t stand a chance if one of those things came.” I turn to hand the rope to Sarah, and I see a panicked look on her face.

I try to turn and see what she’s looking at, but before my eyes can track it, I feel my body being shoved. I tumble over into the well, luckily I’m holding the rope still, I grip it firmly to slow my descent. My hands begin to burn, but my body doesn’t release its grip. 

I feel the tension of the rope break.  I realize the flimsy scrap of wood holding this rope has just snapped. In a last ditch effort I reach out with every one of my limbs to try to find purchase on the walls, or at least slow my fall. In the next moment I hit the bottom. It’s painful but not fatal.

The water down here is cold, but it is soothing on my body. I look up and see Sarah looking down on my from the top of the well. “Sarah! What are you thinking! Don’t you dare cut that…” As I shout up at her I see her body slowly slide over into the well, and she too falls. “Sarah!”

She doesn’t grab the rope, and I hear her body skid and bounce against the stone walls, until it crashes down into the shallow water in front of me. “Sarah!” I cradle her body and look at her. She’s badly bruised and cut up, from the fall. She’s not breathing. “Sarah why did you do that!”

THere’s a warmth that I feel in my hands. When I take a moment to check them, there’s fresh blood covering them. Where’d this blood come from? In a rush I turn Sarah’s body over and though it’s hard to make out in the dark, there are the bases of three arrows lodged into her back. “ What the hell?” 

Frustrated I scream again, slamming my fists into the walls. “Dammit! I couldn’t even save my fake parent in this fantasy world! What’s the point of this! Why did I even get dragged here!” I look up into the opening of the well trying to let my voice reach whatever God there was in this world. Be it God, the Allfarmer or whatever that chain of rings with the flashing lights was, I needed to ask them.

“Why did you bring me here! Did you just want me to suffer more! What was the point! Please! Please! Tell me!” I collapse to my knees, despair beginning to take hold. I hear something from the top of the well. I look up to see if the gods have answered my prayer. 

Instead I see a couple of goblins looking down the well and laughing. They aim their bows and arrows down at me, but with the distance and the angle, the arrows keep hitting the walls. The arrows break against the stone and shower me in wood shrapnel. 

The goblins leave in frustration.

You’re frustrated? I laugh in self-deprecation. Yeah that sounds about right.

As I begin to fall deeper into my self pity suddenly a light begins to shine. 

What is this? The blinding light begins to emanate from a single stone in the well. The light is warm, turning this dark night in a well to a bright new morning. Now you decide to appear!

Is this some sick joke! Does this have to happen! Is there no way to save everybody in this world? Damn it! Even in anger, I know that my only option to survive is to follow the story and take the seed. Fine! If this is what you want I’ll do it! I’ll save this world, but then I’m coming for you!

The stone comes loose, and falls out. The light is released in its full brilliance, from it fresh green roots begin to grow. They spread out in all directions beginning to line the well with these vine like roots. 

I look directly into the light, though it’s bright I don’t feel the need to turn away. I reach out with an outstretched palm. As my fingers close themselves around the seed I feel the warmth enter me.

Well then. Here we go!