Citrine’s Monsters: Chapter Four | Save me from the Monsters

Save me from the monsters. Please. Save me from the monsters.

Twilight brought me to a clearing in the wood and I drew up short, recognizing my mistake. I froze, hoping no one noticed as I put one foot behind the other, slowly backing away. The thick thickets were my friend, not the wide-open spaces of the forest where enemies lurked. Save me from the monsters. The phrase danced in my head along with the dark chocolate eyes, love turning to hate, trust broken as the shock and loathing took over. My bare feet brushed over strands of sticky grass, stabbing and snatching at my heels like tiny hands.

“Not so fast pretty one!” a booming roar shot over the clearing like a fox bounding towards a rabbit desperate to escape.

Lifting my eyes, I faced a twelve-foot-tall giant with wide leering eyes and a white, fungi infested tongue lolling out of his mouth. A misshapen nose protruded from his flat face which looked as if it had been smashed in with a rock. One glassy eye was grossly larger than the other red rimmed one and his bald head dripped with what looked like bird poop. A thick club swung from one hand, large enough to smash my head in a bloody pulp with one swing. In fact, I saw the club was stained a dark maroon on one side, the blood of his victims. Without missing a beat I stepped forward, widening my eyes and pulling the torn sleeve off my shoulder to allow more tanned skin to display for his pleasure. The giant grinned, showing me every other tooth in his mouth was missing. “Please!” I shirked, gesturing wildly behind me. “Save me from the monsters. Save me!” Right on queue a howl rose, giving my heart a thrill. Wolves, coyotes or some feral beasts roamed the forest. Even as my heart rose in hope, three more giants appeared, curved hunting knives in hand as they glared from their leader to myself, the lost female. “Save me from the monsters,” I cried again in desperation, wringing my hands together and eyeing the giants with distress while making calm calculations in my mind.

“Monsters eh!” the first giant roared, slapping his club against his meaty hand. “Do you know who I am?”

My face wanted to frown and sneer at his confidence, yet I brought my hand down to pinch my thigh, trying to keep the damsel in distress look on my face. “Someone who can help me?” I kept my voice soft and high.

“I am the Olgla Man!” the giant bellowed, slapping his hand with the club again. “This is my forest. My territory! Tell me, little trespasser, why should we help you?”

“If you don’t, the monsters will eat me,” I begged, clasping my hands together and lifting them like a prayer.

“Bita. Bong. With me. Bongo. Watch her,” the Olgla Man ordered and lumbered past me, two of the shorter giants following him toward the sound of the howls.

A shiver ran through my body as the rotten stench of body odor and death touched my nostrils. I tiptoed toward the one called “Bongo,” the giant left to guard me. He was handsome in an ugly way with giant ears that stuck out from his head and a mop of unruly thick black hair. His dark eyes lit up as he examined me, a prize for him alone to exploit while his comrades fought monsters in the forest.

“Come here pretty,” he beckoned.

“You are big and strong,” I cooed at him, moving closer, pulling at the strands of my wild hair and sticking out my chest. “Will you protect me?”

“Aye,” he leered, “I’ll do more than protect you.”

Moving closer I reached for his arm, both of my hands closing around his wrist as I lifted my eyes to his. “You must be rewarded for your compassion,” I told him in a sing song voice, watching his eyes darken with lust and violence. “I will reward you.”

He grunted in approval, but before he could open his mouth, I pressed down hard on the fragile bones of his wrist. They made a sharp snapping sound under my fingers as they broke, and the giant howled in rage and pain. “You little vixen!” he shrieked, dropping his knife to cradle his broken wrist.

Dropping to a knee I snatched up the knife and leaped up. In one motion the knife sliced open the skin of his neck and a river of blood flowed out from the neat cut. Both of the giant’s hands moved to his neck as he fell, first to his knees, eyes bugging out as they glared at me, even as his life force drained out onto the ground.

“Thank you for the weapon,” I whispered, twirling the knife as the giant fell face down on the ground. “You saved me from my monsters.” I stood on his back, inspecting his death, waiting for the last breath to fade. “I give you to yours.”

Pushing his heavy body, I untied the belt from his middle and used it to tie the knife to my waist. Shaking back my ragged locks of hair I stood up straight. A sharp pang of hunger struck my belly and a wave of exhaustion passed over me. One breast fell out of my torn shift and I tucked it back inside, shaking my head. Surely the giants had a hideout.  Crossing the clearance, I searched for food or water, rushing lest the other giants return and find their comrade dead. A sigh of frustration left my lips when I found nothing, but my heart hardened. My past would not predict my future. I would survive the forest and begin again. All the same, a sob of anxiety fluttered in my heart. My pets. Where were they?

Download the full version of Citrine’s Monster’s here. | Copyright 2018 Angela J. Ford

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