22 A night full of terrors (1/2)

The man's wail was cut short, his face illuminated by orange light, as the black longsword cut him in two. From his shoulder to pelvis, his guts splattered onto the onyx skeleton's bony feet. Blue hell-fire eyes reflected in the man's terror-filled eyes. The village of Iron Horn on his left, being ravaged by flames. Screams filled the air along with a mass of smoke that half shielded the moon and stars.

Layla's heart roared as fear and adrenaline pulsed through her veins. It screamed at her to run, run far from the unholy monster that stood before her. Black as night, and nearly invisible if not for flame-light; but her maternal instincts kept her rooted. Because behind her, terrified screams of children and their mothers sounded. However, even if she wanted to flee, the skeleton blocked the path.

The skeleton brought the longsword up again, almost mechanically, and stepped over the dead man. Then it brought the sword up and chopped at Layla. She parried at an angle with the flat. The swords sparked on contact, but the longsword slid away into the dirt at Layla's side. She used the moment to spring the shortsword around, then thrusted the point of her sword at its skeleton's right eyesocket. She was too slow.

The skeleton reared its head. The blade fell an inch short, and she retreated; cursing her short reach. The monster pulled the blade from the dirt and gave chase. Its bones rattled angrily with each step up the side of the mountain. Layla was already tired from the other skeletons she had fought, this being the last one of the group. She didn't know how much longer she could fight for...

Without respite, the skeleton attacked again. It brought the sword around again, this time, it swung horizontally as it stepped at her. With a longer reach, and well within its range, Layla had no choice but to duck. The sword cut a few locks of her dark brown hair that had failed to follow her in time. Once the sword had passed, she took her chance.

She sprung up, like a leopard, and stabbed for its eye again. This time, the skeleton could not react in time. Just as it was recovering from its own strike, it turned into the attack. The blade pierced through the socket, and the flame. The skeleton let out a low whine before it crumbled to the dirt. Its bones joined its fallen brothers as they clattered against the other bones.

Layla panted heavily, and her body burned. She had been fighting for no more than ten minutes. However, she hadn't fought for her life in years. Her muscles had grown weak with peace. Reaction, strength, and agility had left her. Had she been at her peak nearly ten years ago, she could have easily slaughtered all of these monsters. Alas, motherhood had called upon her, and she had grown complacent, and that complacency would be the death of her yet.

Her little enclave was the most defensible position with one way up or down. Steep precipices towered opposite of the village. She had picked this spot because of it. Had this been a bandit attack, it would have been the safest place in the village. The undead did not think nor fear, thus whatever advantage she had, besides it being a chokepoint, was lost. Even after she had killed six of them, that last one still fought to the end.

She turned her eyes back down the path. Several more bodies laid further down, where the skeletons had caught some.

Her eyes flicked further down as a group of four villagers scrambled up the path. In tow, six skeletons gave chase; their blades nipping at their heels.

”Help!” One of them called out.

”Layla, help us!” A woman cried. ”By the Gods, help us!”