I told them to stop.
Sometimes, soldiers don’t listen.
Hell, most of the time, we don’t listen at all. And that was certainly the case.
We’d had some rough patches over the day. A few barricades thrown up across the road by Skratti and another by a pair of orcs who forgot that we weren’t to be trifled with.
But as we came up to a small brook, some of the scouts sent back word that there was a woman and a hound ahead of us.
I told them to stop where they were and to leave her be.
The men were infatuated by the sight of her, from what I learned.
She was young, dark-skinned and clad in wear they’d not seen before. Her dog was huge, and it listened to her as though she was its god.
Perhaps she was, though I’ve my doubts.
Of the two men who came to report to me, one of them left, making his way to his comrades to tell them not to approach the woman. His companion tried to leave. I didn’t like the look in his eyes, though, and so he was ordered to remain behind.
The young bastard turned to follow, and had Marius not taken hold of him; the young soldier would have died. For as Marius caught the man’s arm, shots were fired and screams followed.
A few men went racing forward, but more shots drove them back and down to cover.
With Marius holding the scout, I went ‘round the right flank on my own, searching for a way to get to the woman and the hound. The screaming intensified, another shot was fired, and then a deep growl rolled across the land.
When I reached the brook, the woman and her hound were gone.
She’d left the scouts behind.
All four were dead, and they’d died badly.
Each had been gut shot, and their hands torn off and piled to one side. Their pants had been pulled down to their ankles, and the woman had castrated each of them. Those, too, were piled up.
As I stood, my eyes caught a bit of blood off to one side. I moved closer and saw there was a message written on the side of a stone.
He’s told you I’m here. Now I’ve told you as well.
#Denmark #supernatural #monsters #paranormal