Random Writings

Yeah I was bored, and I just wrote this so there may be plenty of spelling mistakes. Read as much or as little as you'd like, or even post your own stuff. Happy toking :rasta:.

For a moment, everything was silent. They simply stood there, their faces a breadth apart, their eyes locked on each other. It would have seemed romantic, except for the venom in their eyes.
“Stand down, Peter” said Damian, his voice tense but calm. “You’re outnumbered and outskilled, and you know it”.
Peter smirked in response. “What makes you so sure, shaman? You are skilled, I admit, but you face powers far more ancient and formidable than you could understand. It is you who will stand down.”
A creaking sound broke the silence. Andrew’s arrow was drawn, and pointed directly at Peter’s heart. Andrew’s hand was shaking. When he spoke, his voice was full of suppressed rage.
“Give me a reason. Just say the word, Damian, and I’ll turn this motherfucker’s black heart into a kebab”.
“Put it down, you imbecile! You’re going to get yourself killed!” hissed Damian. This situation was rapidly detiorating, and if he didn’t end it soon he knew they wouldn’t live to see the sunset. “Put it down, now, or I'll slice off your god damned hand!”
“You should listen to your master, young one,” said Peter, smiling cruelly, “you’d be dead before that arrow left your hands.”
Andrew’s hands shook with rage, but he lowered the arrow. “He’s not my master, and he’s younger then I am. Eat shit and die, you motherfucker.” He spat on the ground.
Peter grinned, showing his brilliant sharp teeth. “Tut tut, such insolence. Such hubris. Sad to say I don’t think you’re going to last very long, young one”. He took a step backwards and threw out his arms, his huge cape spreading out from him like black wings. Damian tensed and lifted his sword, ready for the end.
“I daresay you’ve lingered here too long, shaman. Soon it will be nightfall, and all the skill in the world won’t save you then” said Peter. There was a quick glimmer of light as he drew his sword. “Yet I’d like to take a small part in the fun, before the others come and finish you off ”.
There was a sharp twang as Andrew’s arrow released, then a whistle as the arrow soared through the empty air Peter had occupied seconds previously. Peter had enough time to register a dark blur moving across the plain towards him. He understood that this foolish move had cost him his life.
Damian saw his opportunity, and lunged. His sword sang its whistling song as it swung for Peter’s head. It missed. Damian grabbed blindly for Peter, and his hands closed over something. It was fabric. The dark man’s cape. With all of his might, he wrapped the fabric around his wrist and pulled. Peter flew into the air with an outraged roar. For a moment, he seemed to hang in the air. Then his head struck a tree hard enough to shatter it into a thousand pieces.
Such a blow would easily have killed a grown man. Peter, however, had long since shed his useless humanity. He was on his feet again instantly, as if he had never been struck in the first place. He snarled and lunged forward, ready to hack them both into bloody dust. He was so caught up in his rage that it was a moment before he felt Damian’s sword against his throat.
Damian spoke calmly, despite the ferocity of the scene. “I’ll only ask once more, Peter. Stand down. You’re outmatched this time”.
Peter’s eyes were a deadly shade of crimson. He spat something in a hissing tongue Andrew had never heard before. Judging by Peter's expression, however, these were curses of a very foul nature. Damian responded as if the shrieking figure had spoken plain English.
"Yes, and one day you may get the chance to do that. Today is not that day. Today you've been beaten".
Peter simply growled and spat like an animal, his chest heaving with fury. He was no longer the handsome man they had first encountered. The figure before them resembled a hissing, trapped animal. His eyes were bottomless and black, like a shark. His fingers had curved into claws. In his rage, Peter had allowed them his true form.
"Make no mistake, Shaman! Your time among the living is almost at end! This place is ours now, and you won't stand in our way!"
With a flash of his needle-like teeth, Peter was gone. Damian's muscles relaxed as he sighed in relief. It had been a long time since he'd been that close to death. Not nearly long enough, though.
Andrew broke the silence. "What the hell is he? I've never seen a man move like that in my life. It wasn't...human".
"What tipped you off, exactly? The needle teeth or the claws?" answered Damian irritably. Andrew's pig-headed antics had nearly gotten them killed, now he was asking irrelevant questions.
"So what the hell is he?!", replied Andrew, irratated himself. Whatever that thing was, it had nearly killed them both. Damian just let it go, like it was a child who had behaved badly.
"The least of our worries, that's what he is!" countered Damian, bellowing furiously, "now if you're done acting like an infant for now, we have other things to think about!".
He turned from Andrew and knelt on the ground, tearing a piece of his shirt off. Peter's cape had broken his wrist, and now he needed to mend it. At the time, he hadn't even noticed. Just as he was finishing his bandage, Peter spoke again.
"What are you?"
Damian froze. His bandage and his broken wrist no longer mattered to him. Andrew had crossed a line from which there was no return.
"What did you say?" he replied. He spoke slowly, as if he was unsure of himself.
"You heard me. I saw how fast you moved, I saw you lift him from the ground like that. If he's not human, then you aren't either. So what are you, Damian?"
Damian never answered. The two simply stared at each other, the autumn wind whistling around them. Andrew grew impatient.
"Hey asshole, I'm talking to you! How do I know you aren't one of them? How do I know that wasn't just all a big show? What makes you think I should trust you?!"
"What choice do you have?" replied Damian. He wasn't looking at Andrew. His eyes were faraway, full of sadness and pain. That made Andrew even angrier.
"What the hell are you talking about?!"
"You can either trust me, or take your chances with Peter's friends, out here in the dark. The sun is setting fast, so I suggest you make your choice soon". With that, Damian turned and began to walk. Andrew stood for a few moments, his jaw set like a stubborn child. But in the end, he reluctantly followed his friend down the path. Andrew was headstrong and childish, but not stupid.