The Mercenary

This is a short story I wrote a little while ago titled "The Mercenary":

The Mercenary

Josh Rynn

Honorary Scholastic Award (2018)

 As the mercenary stood in front of the entrance to the room in the castle, with his long, hardened face, eyes squinted in the brilliant sun, he thought, not about the battle to come, but about what he would do with the payment he would receive afterward. One hundred thousand in gold duches. What to do with it all. On a brothel? On food? On a castle of his own? Or perhaps just keep it all and see what happens? The anxiety of the knights around him concerned him not one bit. But, then again, he was never concerned with much of anything outside of himself. This was not out of egoism or selfishness, but more due to his cruel belief that only those who were strong and fought for only their lives could survive in this world. Despite this, he was not angry and bitter, but rather neutral on most of the happenings around him. He considered himself a realist, which played a part in how he confronted what lay ahead of him, to which the army that had paid him referred to as a “flesh-eating demon.” They described it as a giant beast which had seemingly killed all in the castle before the army had even arrived, ripping men apart like rag dolls, leaving behind only blood and occasional entrails. They expressed horror when describing its’ savage tendencies, and would not dare describe its’ appearance. But the mercenary refused to believe it. A giant, man-eating beast? Nonsense. It must be some kind of exaggeration. Exaggerations are frequent in this day and age. And so the mercenary entered with long strides and only money on his mind.

 When he stepped into the cold, dimly lit hall, he suddenly became aware of his surroundings. Behind the pillars he could see puddles of dark blood that could be seen only faintly in the small light. A faint ominous, wary feeling passed over him, and he continued down the hall, not with money on his mind, but ready for whoever, or whatever, may jump at him. Strangely, as he travelled down further, his anxiety began to rise ever so slowly, almost involuntarily. He was now aware of a dimming torch shining down upon a small pool of blood filled with entrails. Despite the curious dark feeling in him still rising, he continued onward through the dark hall. The puddles and entrails became more frequent. After a time, he felt that he had stepped on something hard and rather large. He looked down and saw a human head. After staring in slight disbelief, he continued on, hesitantly, and the dark feeling continued to grow. He could now see ripped body parts scattered across the corners as he approached closer and closer to the room where his battle waited. When he finally reached the lightless door, he breathed deep, and stepped in.

 The mercenary came into the room. It was like a void without light, but he then noticed a faint glow out of the corner of his eye, and turned. What he saw, for the first time in a long time, filled him with horror. A huge, bloody, disgusting pile of body parts, heads, torsos, arms, and legs, that extended beyond the dimly lit mound in front of him and into another dark door on his left. Behind the bloody hill lay a another mound, but one that seemed alive, moving. He thought he heard faint chewing noises coming from it. Then, to his misfortune, the mound stood and turned, and he was filled with a fear perhaps greater than any in his life at the unnatural sight. He should have believed them. It was like they had said. A beast, a demon had killed these men. It stood upright, much like a man, but it was perhaps an inch taller with a hunched back and covered with rust-colored fur. On its’ long, gangly-yet-muscular arms lay long, sharp claws covered with blood. It’s legs were a mix of man and wolf, and the head was a mix of wolf and ape. It was long and large, and had two small ears pointing out of it. It’s eyes were horrible, filled with hunger, insanity, and animalistic rage. The beast went down on all fours and roared, deeply and terribly, and, with incredible speed, lunged at him. He dashed out of the way just in time, and the beast slashed at the wall next to him with unearthly strength, spilling stones all over the ground. When he saw that strength, the mercenary gave up all hope of a fight. The only thing to do was run. The monster turned and lunged once more. He threw himself out of the way again, and, as quick as he had ever been in his life, ran to a dark corner at a far end of the room, behind three pillars. He could still hear the beast growling like a boulder rolling down a mountain far off, but at the very least it could not see him.

 He still couldn’t completely believe this was happening to him, and had happened to all those men. A beast like this couldn't possibly exist. They were only fairy tail creatures, surely. The reality in front of him made him question almost everything he knew. But none of that mattered now. Now, he needed to escape, fast. He searched frantically for an exit, in anticipation of the beast finding him, bestowing upon him the same fate as those hundreds of other men. Wherever he looked, there was only dark, cobblestone wall, and cracks only large enough for a mouse. Then, he saw it. His chance to live. A large, dark void of a crack, big enough for a man to crawl through at least. He dashed to it and frantically crawled through. He had now entered another dimly lit room, but one he could see in, more or less, with a door clearly standing at the edge of the room. He ran towards it as quick as he could, flying into other rooms, out of other doors, until he finally came out into the sunlight in the castle yard, full of dead bodies. When he’d found the exit gates in a tower, which appeared to have been broken through, he flew under them and out of the castle. As he ran off into the distance, the thought of money no longer even crossed his mind. All he could think about was living another day, and the monster, and the horrible fate of those other men which he was determined to avoid. As he ran farther and farther away, feeling anything but neutral for the first time in years, he now carried with him the feelings of those not strong enough to protect themselves in the world. He now knew what it was like to feel powerless. He knew what it was like to be weak.



Tell me what you think!

First post

Guts from Berserk.