With their backs to each other, the three hunters peered out onto the ice plains, eyes darting for the heavy fall of invisible hooves in the morning mist thick with powdered snow, the glinting steel, the rattling chains, the guttural grunts, the rhythmic march of feet that bore but ill fortune. Encroached by a wall of fog all around them, their breath lingered in the frosty air, their muscles tense, ready to strike, to kill.
Quiet. Bee could hear her pulse throb in her ears. We live for the hunt. We die for the hunt. The fog parted. She raised her bow, arrow nocked and took aim.
Out of the mist stepped a giant creature towering above them, clad in a gruesome patchwork of hunter armour, a jagged lance the size of three men. Bee let her arrow fly. With a flimsy clang, it fell to the ground.
Ignoring the arrow, it raised an enormous hand. “We have you surrounded and outnumbered. Fight and die. Surrender, and maybe I’ll let you live,” the voice bellowed.
“What are you?” Zed stepped before Bee.
Vee’s eyes flickered, scanning the monstrosity for weak spots.
“I am the one who will unmake you. As I have done with your kind,” he stretched his muscles, showing off his many hunter trophies stitched together, worn like a second skin.
“I am the Unmaker. I will take your strength. Dead or Alive.” He swung his lance, the tip a hair’s breadth from Zed’s jugular.
Behind the massive mountain of a man stood a horde of cruel patchwork soldiers, half shrouded by the lifting fog. Zed raised his hands slowly, realising the full extent of the murderous army before them, a legion of flesh and steel, a dark mass of destruction blackening the horizon.
I am the Unmaker, mocked Bee, signing in fury, while pacing back and forth like a caged animal, waiting for the verdict from their new master. They had been stripped of all their belongings, guards were posted outside their tent and Vee was mad at Zed for surrendering, but even she knew they had no choice. Choice. It seemed all choices led to the same end.
We can’t stay, signed Bee.
“Bee is right, we need to get out of here,” whispered Vee.
“I think we can take the guards,” replied Zed.
“Quiet in there, hunter scum!” hissed a voice from outside.
The tent flap opened, and the man who had spoken entered. An ugly scar ran from his left ear across his face to the other side of his chin. He was holding up a spoon, licking the side of it clean. He rubbed his bald head with his other hand and wiped it on his tattered brown robe, fastened with a dirty cord. It made him look like a crazed monk looking for food. Peering at the distorted reflection of his hawkish nose in the curved spoon, he cackled. “Ya never gonna leave here alive, ya daft buggers. Ya tryin’ anythin’ funny, I’m gonna do ya what for with this steely iron ‘ere!”
They stared at the spoon.
“You’re going to spoon us to death?” Vee scoffed.
“Are they givin’ ya lip, Reg?” The other guard popped his head in.
“S’alright, Burt. Suckers have no idea wot they got themselves into. I’ll give ‘em a good spooning.”
Burt grinned a toothless grin, looked at them from under frozen eyebrows, winked and withdrew his head.
“Wot’s her problem? She stoopid?” Reg, shiny spoon in hand, pointed at Bee, who signalled Vee and Zed how best to kill both guards.
“She’s scared. Scared the Unmaker will… unmake her,” said Vee. If looks could kill, Vee would have keeled over instantly.
“Hmm, hmm. That’s right. Beee scared. Veeery scared. See this spoon ‘ere?” He held out the utensil before him, the flat end engraved with some sort of insignia. “These ‘ere? Initials. King Rama V. Yeah, got myself a real royal spoon. How did a lump like me get a spoon like that? The Unmaker himself gave it to me! It’s my magic spoon, ya see? An’ good fer grub, too. So, don’t you go try anythin’ funny or I’ll pluck yer sweet black marbles out in a jiffy, yeah?” Reg’s stinking breath was warm on Vee’s face, spoon hovering before her eye.
Vee put on a solemn face. “Message received. Loud and clear.” She nodded in affirmation and Zed and Bee, following her ploy, did likewise.
Reg eyed them for a moment, put the spoon to his lips and scratched his scar. “It ain’t all bad ‘ere. You’ll see, keep yer heads down an’ do as yer told an’ who knows, ya might still live!” He turned to leave.
“Wait.” Zed stood up.
“Wot?”
“Tell us more about the—Unmaker.”
“Wots to tell? He’s the one who’ll unmake the Maker an’ then we’ll all be saved. Everyone knows that.”
“Ah, yes, of course.” Zed exchanged glances with Vee and Bee, the signal to get ready. “And everyone got spoons for weapons?”
“Don’t be silly! This? One of a kind, ya see. I like scoopin’ them juicy eyeballs. Mmm, yummy. Hers look like liquorice. Once the boss is done with ya, I’ll have to try, yeah?”
Reg pointed at Vee with his spoon, licked his lips and turned around when she jumped him and snapped his neck like a twig. The spoon slipped from the guard’s hand. Burt rushed in. Zed struck him hard from behind, and he collapsed next to Reg, face to face, spoon between them.
Now what? Bee signed.
“Sneak out under the cover of darkness?” said Vee.
Zed peeked out of the tent only to retreat with arms raised as more guards poured in.
They were brought before the Unmaker.
“Want to leave so soon? I’m afraid I can’t allow it. You raise a hand against one of mine, you raise a hand against me. A life for a life.” The Unmaker pointed at Zed. “You. You decide who dies—Choose.”
Author’s Note
This is a continuation of The Man Who Wouldn’t Die.
Initially, I had this idea for a longer story set in the far future, a story of survival during the next ice age. All I had was one sentence based on a conversation overheard during lunch at the cantina. For years, it collected dust in my Scrivener Ideas folder, and here we are, 4000 words written.
What do you think about episode four? Let me know in the comments below.
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"... the rhythmic march of feet that bore but ill fortune." “I am the one who will unmake you."
"... she jumped him and snapped his neck like a twig."
"The Unmaker pointed at Zed. “You. You decide who dies—Choose.”
I haven't read previous episodes yet, but this one was excellent standing alone! Bold! Ugly! I loved it, Alexander.
Brilliantly descriptive writing here, Alexander. Nathan and Sharron have quoted some great passages but really the whole chapter was full of wonderfully drawn scenes
Definitely got a vibe of the trolls from the Hobbit with Reg and Burt. Too much chatting leading to their demise! 😁