Chimera

Chapter Twenty-two: Jaylin

It wasn't hard to connect the dots: Callista had explained Hydras as monsters, and this was something terrifyingly, unmistakably a monster, the kind that creep, dark and insidious and deadly, through the night. She stood up instantly, hands flying to slot an arrow into her bow. Jaylin followed suit, pulling out his spear and pointing it skyward.

Suddenly, everything had gone from an ember-lit, food-filled tranquility to a heart-tremoring panic. Images of grotesque, monstrous creatures cascaded through his mind in a chilling flood. Across from him, a faint smile appeared on Alana's face. Jaylin felt the pressure building in his chest, desperately wishing for even a tiny ounce of that insane courage. He knew that it made her irrational, brash and reckless, but he figured that in a life-or-death situation it would be easier to dive into the fray than be constantly scared and hanging back. He swallowed his fear and forced a grin, albeit a very small one, onto his face.

Great, he thought, I must be a berserker now.

"I guess I was wrong that there would be nothing happening if I stayed here. We'll get some action after all!" Alana said, lifting up her axe.

"Let's do this!"

"It was Callista who was attacked! It must be!" Jaylin exclaimed. He was on his hands and knees, eyes fixed on the ground. Before him there were three sets of foot steps. One track was small and human: that belonged to Callista. Behind those two tracks, the prints were huge, made by twisted claws, and they seemed to slice into the earth: the Hydra.

"Come look at this!" Alana yelled, waving him over. He ran to her side. By her feet, Callista's tracks suddenly went from small prints to massive paw marks. The marks were spattered with blood.

"She must have morphed into her bear form and then fought back," Jaylin said. A fear overtook him, the fear that these were Callista's last steps and that this had been her last stand before she had died forever. But with a flush of relief, he saw that the tracks kept going. They were no longer even and confident, but instead they were closely spaced and odd, like she had been limping.

Jaylin and Alana continued following the tracks, speeding up until they were at a sprint. They tore through the thickly intertwined undergrowth. Up ahead, Jaylin could make out shrieks and roars and clanging metal.

He burst into a small clearing, his feet squelching into unpleasant mulch. Before him, three shapes twisted and flew at eye-blurring speed, tearing up every inch of matter around them.

Jaylin caught a glimpse of Callista, soaring through the air with a flashing blade in hand. The warm tingle of recognition warmed his heart.

But when Jaylin saw the Hydra, his blood chilled. Except there wasn't just one. Jaylin could see seven of them, standing around a struggling figure: Callista. The one nearest to him was a komodo dragon morph, except it looked sick and twisted. Instead of gleaming dark eyes like shiny black pebbles, there were two glaring red ones. It had two severely-clawed legs and a thick, whip-like tail that was as long as he was. Then, oh, the head, on a long scarred neck. Snapping, rearing, twisting, snaking, biting, with spiked horns and blood-red eyes and broken-glass fangs and angry, probing forked tongue. And its body was so twisted, strangely bent arms and wrenched torso, so Jaylin expected it to struggle clumsily through the dust. Instead, it kicked off with its feet and slid forward with terrifying speed and smoothness, like oil on water. Its head shot forward, towards Callista, jostling for blood and gore, ripping her skin. She dodged backwards, beneath the lunge and there was a red streak on her arm. A heartbeat later, she ran at the Hydra, leaping off the ground. She swung her sword at the Hydra's head. She was met with resistance, the blade lodged in its neck. Callista hacked at it again, and the head went flying off, still gnashing its fangs and flicking its tongue. The body of the komodo dragon morph slowly fell to the ground, convulsed and spasmed and gushed blood in the dirt, turning it to a pink mud, and then went still.

"Looks like the best way to kill them is decapitation," Alana speculated, hefting her broadsword. Jaylin opened his mouth to speak, but she had already charged forward, into the fight.

Jaylin swallowed. He didn't feel ready. He wasn't ready. But he watched as Callista struggled to right himself with a maimed arm wing, watched as hungry heads of three Hydras turned his way and snaked forward, and he knew that it was now or never. He looked at the knife in his hand, studied its serrated edge. He looked backwards, to where Los Lagos was, far away. Then he looked at the battle unfolding before him. He squeezed his eyes shut, making a decision that he dreadfully hoped he wouldn't regret.

Something wet dropped onto his head and soaked his hair.

His heart jumped in his chest, panic clawed at his throat and Jaylin's eyelids flew open. He instantly recoiled, ran back, screaming, screaming, screaming so hard that his lungs burned, screaming.

A single Hydra had located him. It was a gaunt oryx morph, with glaring red eyes. It had diverted from the others, and was closing in fast, mouth opened wide. Tongue caressing gleaming yellow, blunt teeth, made for eating grasses. And in that moment, he knew that those teeth wouldn't hesitate to sink into his flesh. The Hydra came forward. Eyes hungry, ever hungry.

If you've enjoyed reading this story, don't forget to vote, comment and add it to your reading lists. I will be adding a new chapter every day. If you have any tips for how I can improve my writing, or what I did well this time, please feel free to tell me (in a nice manner). Thanks so much for reading my story!

Thanks again, Sylver!