Heroics

Heroics

         I called my friend and asked if he wanted to come down to my house to play. He said sure. A few minutes later, he arrived at the door. It’s a nice day outside, a phrase that my mother couldn’t resist muttering as he entered the house. And that was true; it was warm and sunny, too warm to be in the house anyway. So we fled into the backyard.
         We began playing a game of knights and sorcery. A vast, sinful force was infecting the land. There was a massive army of horrible creatures menacing innocent people: goblins, ogres, undead creatures. Using the house as our fortress, we campaigned against the malevolent legions. I, of course, was a wizened wizard who could destroy great foes with my prowess in the magical arts. My friend, a warrior, was well versed in all forms of weaponry. I, too, could use a sword well; he was also a great magician. I insisted I had the ability to come back from the dead; he bested my improvement by raising an army of the dead to fight for him. I boasted I could destroy an entire legion of harpies; he declared he could kill a dragon with a single arrow. Eventually, in an effort to better each other, we became unstoppable gods.
         As our power grew, so did our prestige. As a result, horrid creatures began seeking us out. They at first came in ones and twos, weak little impish things who thought they were strong. Gradually they got bigger, and bigger, however, and eventually reached the size of a massive cat. It was after one of our mini-skirmishes that we noticed the monstrous figure of this animal approaching us from some crags in the distance. We watched it slink along in the distance, and its figure grew progressively larger… larger… and larger. When it reached us, we gawked in awe at what stood before us. An obese feline, about five feet large, stood in front of us, scowling contemptuously.
         “I am Kimberly,” it spoke in a thick, deep voice. We nodded in apprehension. Then, it spoke again: “I am a servant of the Lich King. He is the one who will bring doom to this world.” It tilted its head, waiting for our next action. I raised my arms and began chanting in gibberish, summoning forth orbs of plasma to launch at the cat. My comrade in arms drew his sword and threw himself at the creature. It screamed in fury at our onslaught, unsheathing its claws.
The combatants’ blades sparkled in the sunlight from over-head. Despite its size, the cat was able to nimbly dodge my ally’s strikes. It dashed around him, forcing him to exhaust himself from his chaotic waving of the sword. Once my comrade was weak enough, the cat flung its paw at him; it hit him directly on the nose, knocking him to the ground. The cat then lunged at me. I began chanting to lift a magical barrier around myself. Unfortunately, it was familiar with my magical abilities, probably from hearing of my endeavors in some market of vice. It knew exactly how to break through my wall, exploiting my weakness to its advantage. I fell to the ground, panting heavily.
         “Ha Ha Ha! Not so strong now, are you? Not so high and mighty? You were beaten by a girl. Ha ha ha!” The animal pounced on me, digging its claws into my shoulders. I don’t know what would’ve happened had my comrade not slapped it with his sword. The feline flew off me, crashing into the ground a few feet away. It lay there, unmoving. We sighed, shrugged, and returned to our battle against evil.
         Following our victory against our feline foe, we began searching for the Lich King that it had mentioned. Fearlessly, we traversed vast plains of grass, climbed colossal mountains, and navigated terrible forests. We were forced to battle evil creatures that obstructed our path, decimating orcish hordes, annihilating rock golems, and obliterating possessed trees. Eventually, we arrived in the heart of the deepest, darkest, and deadliest of woods. It was here we found the Lich king’s head.
         It was planted firmly in the branches of the most malicious tree present. Leaves were trapped in the paper-like bits of skin hanging off the king’s forehead. His skin seemed to be folding in on itself, creating ripples of varying shapes and sizes near his chin. There were deep, murky holes where the mouth, eyes, ears and nose should’ve been. Appalling, demonic organisms flew in and out these gaps in the head.
One particularly large beast crawled out of the head as we arrived at the site. It had thin strips of membrane protruding out its back, their shape and texture suggested they were wings. Black and yellow stripes patterned its shell, and six legs glued its mass to the king’s face. Two antennae jutted out of its cranium and its large, round, beady eyes shifted in various directions, inspecting us. Its weight shook the branch the head was on; some of the king’s skin broke off and floated to the ground. The quaking of the branch forced it to adjust its grip and position. The fiend’s movement revealed a long stinger, signaling to my partner and me that we were in great peril.
         Screaming, we fled. I ran, forcing my way through the bushy undergrowth, towards the exit of the mass of trees. I felt my heart pounding in my chest, a rigid, intense rhythm. My shirt caught itself in the claws of a dead bush, forcing me to halt and attempt to untangle the cloth. The beating turned into a painful throbbing in my throat as I awkwardly attempted to free myself from the clutches of the plant. While battling my ensnared garments, I quickly glanced behind me to witness my partner dashing the opposite direction out of the woods pursued by the demon. I quickly averted my eyes, for fear of being noticed by the creature, and ripped my tunic free of the bush’s grip.
Sprinting, I left the woodland and worked my way through the hills back onto the plains. I heard heavy breathing far to my left, and saw my associate running towards me as fast as he could. Behind him was an obviously irritated insect. I sped up my pace, knowing that if he reached me the creature would attack both of us. With an angry assailant on his tail, however, he was able to catch up to me very quickly. Soon, I could hear its buzzing pursuit behind us.
I ran as fast as I could, and could feel the air blowing past my face; it felt like wind, though the day had no weather to speak of. My heart had begun beating in rhythm with each step I took---Duh-Duh-Duh-Duh-Duh-Duh. Passing by a large stone, I heard a soft thud erupt from the rock, and assumed the fiend had crashed into it. We covered half the distance between the mountains and the stronghold before its buzzing returned. This time it was louder; the demon was outraged. Our speed increased at this prospect, and so did its. Then, not twenty yards out from our fortress, exhaustion took its toll on me. I became so weary I could not see straight, let alone control where I was going. I slowed to a walk, and stumbled on some small stones scattered in the grass. Dimly aware of the incessant buzzing around my head, I crawled toward a small niche in the walls of the fort to provide me the illusion of protection. Succeeding to reach my destination, I planted myself comfortably in my small alcove. Then, I heard horrified shouts from my comrade. Recalling my plight, I noticed the furious insect hovering in my face. I had unwittingly trapped myself.
         I screamed. Fear gave me the energy to lift myself up on my feet, and I stood, pushing my back against the wall trying to back away from my aggressor. My companion moved behind the creature, watching my drama with horrified fascination. The demon danced before me, moving from left to right, seemingly to some music I could not hear. I was helpless; no longer could my magic protect me. No longer was I a god. Waiting for the inevitable, I stared at its stinger, the source of its threat. Its smooth, bobbing motion mesmerized me. Weariness slowly began working itself back into my body. A tired and serene feeling over-came my consciousness; I was about to fall asleep when it struck.
         Pain shot through my right arm; a screech of utter torment erupted from my mouth. I could barely keep my eyes open because of the pain. Clutching my arm, I watched the insect fly at my friend. He lifted his wooden sword, but instead of hitting the creature, he slapped himself in leg. The fiend stabbed him on his cheek. Wailing in agony, we both collapsed in the grass.
         The Lich King had defeated us. All the goblins, zombies, and beasts we had defeated were for naught, for reality had conquered our fantasy. As we laid in the grass, moaning in anguish, my mother approached from the castle with some wet rags, medicine, and bandages. She murmured something under her breath while she tended to our wounds, applying some substance to the stings and then pasting a bandage on the targeted area. Then she helped us to our feet, and instructed us to come inside to eat lunch and rest. We obliged her command and entered the fortress to feast on sandwiches of grape jelly and peanut oils with smooth milk to wash it down. Much to our discomfort, however, my sister, Kim, was also present. She spent the time insulting us about the defeat. We hastily devoured our lunch to escape her irritating conduct. Rejuvenated, my friend and I returned to the backyard, against the warnings of “it isn’t safe,” and “you’ll get stung again,” and proceeded to battle evil once again.