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The Hunt

Damn trolls, the smell of them make me wish I was born without nostrils. Elusive bastards too, I haven’t found a single physical trace of this one. Scent alone has led me this far. It’s close. I can feel it.

“Son of a bitch!”

The razor sharp claws slice through my armor like it isn’t there. All I saw was it’s shadow. The bastard was quiet. The cuts aren’t too deep. My belt will suffice to stop the bleeding for now. Where the hell did it go? Fuck that hurts. I should have bought that wizard’s shielding enchantment, but I thought the old prick was trying to rip me off.

The sound of twigs snapping gets my attention. I’ve got the fucker now. It’s a perfect strike. My pike rips through the rough flesh and keeps going. It’s a female. I got her right between the top two tits. I lift her up over my head and slam the bitch into the ground. Bone shards erupt from the creatures neck accompanied by a distinct snapping sound. I love that noise. This cunt is toast. I whip out my dick and piss all over the corpse. What can I say? I take pleasure in the small things.

I grab my ax and hack off the two biggest claws. The king’s guards won’t pay me the bounty without proof. I take the fangs as well. They’re worth four silvers each. This monster hunter’s eating steak tonight. And if I’m lucky, I’ll get back to town before all the good whores are spoken for. The names Henry Blackfoot, and for a price, I kill the shit that goes bump in the night.

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