Fiction

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The chill of the night had set in, as sweat mixed with blood trickled down Boresk's cheek. Surely this was just a bad dream and soon he would wake up, but he knew that the thought in itself was just a fantasy. The blood on his brow was real, the pain in his head and arm was real, and the fact that he had found his best friends, Yolen and Illa, dead at their campsite was horrifyingly real.

In the span of moments after he found his companions' bodies he had gone from a hunter tracking elk to the hunted prey of a beast he had previously thought to be only a story told to frighten children before bed. He had been one of those scared children, and now he once again felt like a terrified child longing for the security of a warm bed with blankets to cover up with to hide himself from the fear. That bed and blanket were far away, however. He and his friends had traveled almost two days on horseback from the nearest house to get to this hunting spot. Now the horses were nowhere to be found and the only other people anywhere near him were dead back at the campsite.

The thought of being hunted was sobering in itself, but this thing, this creature chilled Boresk to the bone. Some called them ghost stalkers, others the grey beasts, and others simply called them the monsters. Boresk's grandfather had called them udaris in his tales. Udari meant 'The Grey Demon' in Old Putskan. The name itself sent a shiver down Boresk's spine. His grandpa, Opa, had claimed he had seen one once. Boresk had always thought it was just part of Opa's storytelling, but now he new the truth.

From the childhood stories Boresk had learned the udari was a monster that stood upright like a man, moved quietly through the prime evil forests, and would attack people alone in the wood. From being hunted he had learned that the udari could walk upright or on all fours, and was a proficient climber. He also learned how it got its ghost stalker nickname. It made little if any noise, and what little it did could be easily covered by the wind blowing through the trees. The most terrifying thing he learned was that it didn't randomly attack when someone happened to stumble upon it or surprise it: it hunted them with the same skill and precision a veteran tracker would an elk. When he gazed in its eyes, after it found him discovering his friend's bodies, he could swear there was one thing evident in its stare, intelligence. It was calculating and cunning. At times Boresk felt it was playing with him for sport.

The game had gone on for two days now. Boresk hadn't gotten any sleep, and had barely been able to eat or drink. His wounds from his bout with the creature had opened back up many times, and his head was throbbing. Sleep called to him warmly, and every part of him wanted to give in, but he knew it would mean his death. The cold was also hunting him. For two nights he had weathered it, but its icy fangs were biting deep into him. If the udari didn't get him the cold would.

His eyelids shut, but he quickly opened them and scanned the area as he heard the wind howl through the trees. Boresk had grown to dread the sound of the wind. It seemed that the creature's movements were not only masked by the wind, but it knew they were as well. The times he had been attacked over the past days were always when the wind was blowing loudly. He had been lucky to survive his encounters so far, but he was sure the luck wouldn't last. The first time, when he found the bodies, he had been able to escape by stabbing it in the side with his dagger. The creature wasn't much bigger than a man, but it was a lot stronger and much quicker than any man Boresk had ever seen.

He had covered himself up as best as he could with the leaves and snow, though he was certain it would not cover up the scent of his blood. He had even tried smearing some of his blood in all directions on branches from his selected spot before returning to it to settle in. Hopefully one of the blood spots would at least keep it occupied in another area until the mourning, but somehow he doubted his luck.

His thoughts drifted to the inevitable, his death. He had been trying to head in the direction he thought that he and his friends had come in from, but there had been no road for the last part of the journey and there was no way of knowing anything other than he was going East. He was assuredly going to die out in the wilderness, far from home and his new bride. What would Analla think? To be made a widow so soon after becoming a wife was not fair. He had chased her for so long only to lose her now. Tears rolled down his face, and he wept. He wished the gods would rescue him, but the gods had never done anything for him to this point in his life. Why would they intervene for him now?

The afterlife was something Boresk tried not to think too much about, he was always focused on the here and now. It seemed, however, that his here and now was about to be in the hereafter. He thought of his neighbor Gathniel who was always talking about such things. Gathniel didn't believe in the old gods, he was what Gladaputskans had come to call Adonites. The Adonites only believed in one god, Adonae, whom they claimed had become a mortal and had sacrificed himself to save mankind. Boresk had always considered Gathniel and the Adonites crazier than the old Putskans, who were forever jabbering on about the gods and good crops. At least the old ones only acted like the gods were just other parts of nature. The Adonites dedicated their lives to worshiping their god, and trying to convert others to do the same. Gathniel was a nice enough man, always ready to help anyone, but he seemed to always find a way to bring his faith into the conversation.

The wind blew again, whistling through the old trees. Then Boresk saw a grey flicker from the corner of his vision. His heart almost stopped as the udari came into view. Even as close as he was, Boresk couldn't hear the creature as it crept towards one of his blood splotches. In some ways it had the look of a man, walking mostly upright, but at the same time it was very un-human. With perfect balance and fluidity it went from moving on two to four legs. It had a short slightly wolf-shaped snout and small ears tucked on the side of its head. The eyes were by far the most disturbing feature though, being solid white. Boresk also noticed the dried blood and wounds he had given it by his dagger, which he now gripped tightly at his side.

A chorus of wolf howls went up in the lonely night. The thought of all his blood attracting more unwelcome guest hadn't crossed Boresk's mind. The udari seemed to note the newcomers with little more emotion than simple recognition. The creature went about its task of finding Boresk with little care for the approaching pack. Boresk's pulse raced as he began to plan his next move.

Then the moment he had been dreading arrived. The ghastly white eyes fixed on him. It would have certainly charged him if an oblivious wolf had not inadvertently wondered between them. The wolf was quite surprised at the udari's presence, and immediately growled at the creature.

Boresk had witnessed first hand the udari's abilities, but the quickness and smoothness with which the beast lunged at the wolf took him by surprise. The poor animal didn't have a chance. In mid-lunge the udari grabbed the wolf as the animal snapped at it. Boresk took it as the best chance he would get, and ran as fast as his weakened body could into the night. As he ran, he could hear the whimpering yelp from the most certainly dying wolf. Another sound quickly followed, that of the rest of the pack coming to the first wolf's aide.

The moon danced in and out of view behind the cloudy night sky, somewhat lighting his way. The fear that he had become so acquainted with gripped his heart like bonds tied to tightly. The yelping and barking of the wolves filled the air, as the pack must have reached the udari. Curiously the creature made no noise, in fact Boresk could not recall it ever making a sound at all any of the times he had encountered it. He desperately hoped the wolves would kill the retched beast, but part of him knew it was hoping for too much.

Boresk ran blindly until he could run no further, and propped himself up against a large tree. He didn't have the energy to try to plan anymore, not that any of his previous plans had met with any success or even fooled the udari for a moment. He would simply rest awhile, and then if it hadn't found him he would run again as far as what little strength he could muster would take him. Eventually there would be no energy left in him and he would collapse, then hopefully the cold or the udari would take him before he awoke again.
His thoughts once again fell to what would happen to him after that point. The Old Putskans said one would go to the halls of their forefathers, but nothing more was ever said about it. Gathniel said that Adonae had prepared a place for those who trusted in him and his sacrifice. It sounded too good to be true to Boresk. What if nothing awaited him? What if it was just the end? The thought terrified him almost as much as the udari. What if this Adonae who Gathniel worshiped was real? What if he went to face this god after having mocked Gathniel for so long?

A shiver ran down his spine, a shiver that he had become all too accustomed to at this point. The creature was near by, somewhere in the wood around him, stalking him. He scanned the trees around him for the ghastly figure, but his search was in vain. All he could see in the dark were the gnarled, stoic trees and the swiftly falling snow.

The next moment produced a blood chilling fear from something Boresk had never associated with fear, a breath. It blew warmly down the nape of his neck. He forced himself to look to the side. Nothing. He then slowly turned to the other side. Nothing. The warm rancid breath came again. Sickening realization seeped in, and he slowly looked up finding his view filled with two white orbs and a set of yellow blade-like teeth. The udari had climbed down from the tree top head first, and now its face was so close to him that should the unthinkable desire to reach out and touch it strike him he could.

The pale eyes studied Boresk as if drinking in his fear. Without taking his eyes off the creature, he slowly turned around and faced the monster. They stared each other down for what seemed like an eternity. Boresk was more than a little surprised to still be alive at this point. An odd thought crossed his mind. Maybe there was a god.

Voice quivering, Boresk said out loud, "Adonae if your there help me."

The udari opened its mouth for a silent growl, and then dropped to the ground landing on its back legs. The drop was so fluid that Boresk, despite himself, was struck with amazement. The creature glanced down at the dagger, which Boresk clutched tightly at his side. It obviously hadn't forgotten the pain the blade had inflicted on it in their previous meetings.

Something hardened in the pit of Boresk's stomach. He could go on trying to run, but it would always hunt and find him. Death in his sleep after exhaustion sounded less painful, but it was also cowardly. If he indeed were going to die it would be best if he went to death fighting. He had wasted too much effort trying to run from inevitability. He would spend what little he had left dying well.

The beast finally overcame what ever had been holding it back and surged forward, claws and teeth seeking flesh. Boresk swung blindly attempting to defend himself. The udari avoided the slash and struck Boresk's blade arm with incredible force, causing him to release his grip on the dagger. It went bouncing across the freshly fallen snow.

Pain shot through Boresk's left arm as the udari's claws sunk deep into it. The beast then bit down into Boresk's shoulder snapping bones. He cried out in agony and then out of reflex more than anything he struck out at the white orbs above the clenched jaws at his shoulder. One of his knuckles found its target in the udari's eye socket. The udari let go and leaned back hissing. Taking his opportunity Boresk kicked the creature in the wound he himself had created two days earlier with a strength he did not realize he still had. It sent the udari sprawling backwards into the snow.

Boresk scrambled towards his dagger. He retrieved it a moment before the udari was on him again. Its claws dug deep into his chest. It leaned in close and opened its horrific mouth. The foul breath filled his nostrils, almost causing him to vomit. His hand then worked without his mind plunging the newly retrieved dagger deep into the creature's chest. It stood back and let out a silent scream, in one of the most eerie displays Boresk had ever seen. It stood there grasping for breath halfheartedly pawing at the blade. After a few moments it sunk to its knees, and with one last gasp fell forward into the snow.

Boresk lie there for what could have been hours waiting on the udari to move again; it did not. Eventually he drifted to sleep. Some time the next day he awoke to the sound of a fox tearing at the dead beast's body. It took Boresk a few moments to remember where he was and what had happened. His shoulder and chest throbbed, and his stomach growled like a dog.

He picked himself up and slowly walked towards the body. The fox quickly gave up its meal and darted off. Boresk kicked the body once to be absolutely sure the thing was dead. It didn't move. It seemed impossible, but his hunter was dead, and would track him no more. Tears streamed down his face. It was over.

Boresk rolled the body over and retrieved his dagger. Carefully he reached down and cut off a claw from the beast's hand. He put it in his pocket and the proceeded to clean the black blood from the blade. With the task complete he set out East hoping to find food, water, and the road home. A few hours of searching produced a stream. The water was cold but refreshing, and tying the dagger to a branch he was able to fashion a spear. With it he was able to catch a fish with. After eating he dressed his wounds as best he could and lay down to get some rest.

As Boresk lay there in the woods he made a few decisions. The first was that the first thing he was going to do when he got home was to hold his bride close and tell her how much he loved her. Then he was going to go and have a talk with Gathniel about this Adonae. He had stared death in the ugly face and was certain that the only thing that had kept him from its clutches was Adonae. He had wasted a lot of time not being concerned with the purpose of his life. Now he would find out what that purpose was and would dedicate his life to pursuing it.

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