Day 35


Wulf found the wyrm’s lair.

The tower stood atop a hill, its curved wall facing the sun, shutters wide and shooters in the windows.

Wulf took a round through his shoulder, but he returned to the hospital and spoke of what had occurred.

I took only my Colts with me and struck out along the trail to the place where the wyrm waited.

As soon as I was in view, the windows were thrown wide, and things that were not quite men took up positions in the windows. They had rifles and scatter guns, and a trio crowded into each window while a dozen more exited the entrance and spread out. The creatures on the ground formed a firing line, and the steady click of rounds being chambered was a decadent symphony to my soul.

I drew the Colts, and a man stepped out into the doorway.

He wore a long cloak and a golden chain of office around his neck. From his sleeve, he removed a scroll, unrolled it, and looked at me. “Be you Duncan Blood of Cross, Massachusetts?”

“Aye,” I answered.

“Committer of matricide, homicide, and infanticide?”


The man nodded and cleared his throat.

“Be it known to all gathered here that this man, Duncan Blood of Cross, son of Ezekiel, has confirmed his sins to this court. It does please us greatly to pronounce the sentence of death upon him, and we shall rejoice with the destruction of this murderer.” The man finished the scroll, rolled it once more, and put it away. He gazed upon me with an expression that was half disdain and half ridicule. “Have you anything to say, Blood?”

My Colts spoke for me.

The blood-blessed rounds tore through his chest and throat, leaving wounds that burned blue as he staggered back.

The men around him and in the windows hesitated, unsure of what to do and sickly fascinated by the blazing injuries.

The hesitation cost them.

My Colts roared in the stillness as I cut down the creatures in the windows, sending their bodies tumbling out the frames and onto their companions below. Panic swept over those on the ground.

My revolvers went dry, but I reloaded as the creatures fired off badly aimed shots.

When the Colts were heavy again, I went back to killing.

#Denmark #supernatural #monsters #paranormal

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Nicholas Efstathiou

Husband, father, and writer.

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