Short Little Stories

The knight emerged from the dull and brackish waters of the swamp. The sludge fell off his armor, almost eager to be away from it, to lets its gleam challenge the dim surroundings. Even as his feet landed on dry ground, he was again the polished, perfect figure of a hero.

His eyes darted through bushes, trees, muddy pools and roots that entwined through the ground. His gaze searched for the beast that had flung him into the depths of the bog, and then fled.

“Please,” came the guttaral hiss of the beast, “Why can you not leave me here, in peace?”

The knight turned towards the voice, and smiled. His teeth shone white as a ray of sunlight broke through the darkened canopy of the swamp.

He replied, his voice booming out as he strode towards his foe, sword at the ready. “What is meant to be, is meant to be. You are an abomination! A freak of nature – your fate has been sealed since the moment you first entered into life. So it is written.”

“I mean no harm!”

“The fangs and claws you were born with give the lie to your words. You were made to cause havoc, and ’tis only a matter of time till you do.”

“No!”

“Yes.”

The knight strode forward. The beast sprang from the shadow, claws outstretched, fangs bared. The golden sword flashed once, twice… and then, no more.