Post by Trenk on Dec 6, 2009 4:25:01 GMT -5
(( I might flesh this out later, but I wanted to write this after it came into my head, so here it is. It's my first attempt writing in a while, and it's not even comedy, my preferred genre, so be kind in your criticism >.>. ))
"I'm here. One year later, just as we agreed."
The metal clad monster inclined it's head, not deigning to speak. Isaac rolled his shoulders and drew a sword, slamming his visor shut over his face. Blue eyes narrowed behind the metal shielding his face, black hair swept to just above his brows. He shook his head and raised his sword into a fighting stance.
His opponent did the same, lengthening it's stance. It was humanoid, wielding a monstrous two handed blade and garbed in black armor covered in sharp angles and spikes. Fiery hatred burned behind his visor, and he became eerily still.
Most people still breathe, blink, sway, when they're still. It didn't.
Isaac took a step forward, sword arcing downwards from his right. His enemy blurred into motion, it's giant blade sweeping up to crash into Isaac's before cutting down at the man's knees. Isaac's blade flexed, but held, though he had to dance back to avoid losing his legs. His weapon flashed again, seeking the opening between the daemon's neck and shoulder. The attack was batted aside like a fly.
Whatever was inside the suit of armor took a few steps back and spoke, it's voice deep, arrogant, and powerful. "Why do you fight? We both know how this will end. The Withering Hate will devour you. Your blade cannot match mine, and you cannot match me. The deck is stacked against you, Isaac. You won't even feel yourself hit the floor."
Isaac replied with a bellowed roar, feinting with his sword before sending a kick crashing into the black armored hate-creature's knee. It's knee buckled but didn't give, but Isaac didn't mind. The last thing he wanted was to wrestle this thing.
He leapt back as the greatsword held by his opponent slashed an inch from his throat. Capitalizing on the brief opening, he darted inwards to stab at the dark helmet. The point glanced off the black metal, and the return sweep of Withering Hate slammed into the sword used by Isaac, but only for a moment. The metal flexed and gave, leaving barely a handspan of blade above the hilt. The sword that broke his blade let out a scream of triumph.
Isaac dropped his hilt and raised his fists. The last rays of light were shining through the trees, and he felt it ironically appropriate that this fight should happen now, as night stretched it's black fingers across the landscape.
The next time the greatsword swung around, he ducked it. Then, steeling himself, he posted on his left leg and slammed both his forearms against his enemy's arm on the second swing. He skidded almost a foot, then lifted his leg and sent it crashing into his opponent's chest. He lunged for the hate-daemon's hands, disarming it. They fell back, each without a weapon.
The daemon let out a low laugh and began to fight aggressively, slamming punches into the rapidly backtracking and defensive human. Isaac tried to launch punches and kicks in return, but the retreat rendered the ineffective. Finally, his enemy shot in for a takedown. The human sprawled, then backed up and threw a heavy uppercut. He followed with two quick punches to the reeling hate-thing's face and a low kick to the lead knee. Without noticing, one hand dropped away from his face.
A bright white flash, and then he was on the ground. His head was fuzzy, but he pushed himself back on his elbows, fighting to continue fighting, the kisses of the sun giving him hope. He got to his feet and looked around. The black armored death dealer had picked up his two handed sword again.
Hope went through some post mortem twitching.
Isaac stepped forward, fear prolonging the moment unnaturally, the sun warming his back, his breath heavy. With a blur of motion and a sudden deluge of liquid down his front, the moment was over.
"I'm here. One year later, just as we agreed."
The metal clad monster inclined it's head, not deigning to speak. Isaac rolled his shoulders and drew a sword, slamming his visor shut over his face. Blue eyes narrowed behind the metal shielding his face, black hair swept to just above his brows. He shook his head and raised his sword into a fighting stance.
His opponent did the same, lengthening it's stance. It was humanoid, wielding a monstrous two handed blade and garbed in black armor covered in sharp angles and spikes. Fiery hatred burned behind his visor, and he became eerily still.
Most people still breathe, blink, sway, when they're still. It didn't.
Isaac took a step forward, sword arcing downwards from his right. His enemy blurred into motion, it's giant blade sweeping up to crash into Isaac's before cutting down at the man's knees. Isaac's blade flexed, but held, though he had to dance back to avoid losing his legs. His weapon flashed again, seeking the opening between the daemon's neck and shoulder. The attack was batted aside like a fly.
Whatever was inside the suit of armor took a few steps back and spoke, it's voice deep, arrogant, and powerful. "Why do you fight? We both know how this will end. The Withering Hate will devour you. Your blade cannot match mine, and you cannot match me. The deck is stacked against you, Isaac. You won't even feel yourself hit the floor."
Isaac replied with a bellowed roar, feinting with his sword before sending a kick crashing into the black armored hate-creature's knee. It's knee buckled but didn't give, but Isaac didn't mind. The last thing he wanted was to wrestle this thing.
He leapt back as the greatsword held by his opponent slashed an inch from his throat. Capitalizing on the brief opening, he darted inwards to stab at the dark helmet. The point glanced off the black metal, and the return sweep of Withering Hate slammed into the sword used by Isaac, but only for a moment. The metal flexed and gave, leaving barely a handspan of blade above the hilt. The sword that broke his blade let out a scream of triumph.
Isaac dropped his hilt and raised his fists. The last rays of light were shining through the trees, and he felt it ironically appropriate that this fight should happen now, as night stretched it's black fingers across the landscape.
The next time the greatsword swung around, he ducked it. Then, steeling himself, he posted on his left leg and slammed both his forearms against his enemy's arm on the second swing. He skidded almost a foot, then lifted his leg and sent it crashing into his opponent's chest. He lunged for the hate-daemon's hands, disarming it. They fell back, each without a weapon.
The daemon let out a low laugh and began to fight aggressively, slamming punches into the rapidly backtracking and defensive human. Isaac tried to launch punches and kicks in return, but the retreat rendered the ineffective. Finally, his enemy shot in for a takedown. The human sprawled, then backed up and threw a heavy uppercut. He followed with two quick punches to the reeling hate-thing's face and a low kick to the lead knee. Without noticing, one hand dropped away from his face.
A bright white flash, and then he was on the ground. His head was fuzzy, but he pushed himself back on his elbows, fighting to continue fighting, the kisses of the sun giving him hope. He got to his feet and looked around. The black armored death dealer had picked up his two handed sword again.
Hope went through some post mortem twitching.
Isaac stepped forward, fear prolonging the moment unnaturally, the sun warming his back, his breath heavy. With a blur of motion and a sudden deluge of liquid down his front, the moment was over.
