Heresy: The Book of Mammon

Chapter 2 Rewrite

Chapter 2



Edda sniffed the cold air of the northern forest. All about her, the scent of dead leaves and frozen earth wafted about in a swirling breeze. A light fog blanketed the bed of leaves at her feet as she crept between the large ash trees and chilling air carried it along like a veil of smoke. It was quite a unnatural fog. It was close to midday, and mist this early in the season was rare. Spring was upon the lands of Xalimfal, but the embrace of winter remained clasped around the lands.

Dead, dry leaves still clung to gnarled branches, though most of them lay upon the frozen ground, some remained above her and rustled in the breeze. Midday sun stabbed through the boughs of the trees and bathed the fog in a golden light. Though it warmed the brisk air, the mist enclosed around her and its cold kiss caressed her neck and sent shivers down her spine.

Such a cold day would not bring a mist with it. It was strange to say the least, especially how thick it was. The forest was a little more than shadows within the smoky haze. Damn the fog. Hunting was difficult already without a mist rising. Though she managed to kill a rabbit and squirrel, she needed much more to feed her family. The war between Skald and Hjalgaard claimed much of the food, and what little they did have was quickly diminishing. Most supplies were sent to the Warlord’s army, leaving a wave of starvation behind. With as cold as it had been, starvation gave rise to pestilence. Sickness enshrouded the lands of the Skald clans, and with hunger weakening the populace, most of the ill eventually died.

She would ensure that such a fate did not come to her family. Though most of them managed, they did not have the ability to provide for themselves. Her mother was slowly decaying to age, and her sister was far too young to venture into the wilderness. Though wolves were not much of a threat when she was armed, a child would be a particularly easy meal for such beasts, especially one that could not draw the string of a bow.

Though they did have rifles, she preferred to hunt with silence over firepower. Bullets were quite strong, and were every bit capable of killing a beast without much deliberate aim, but guns were quite loud. When feeding more than one mouth, more than one kill was often necessary. Gunshots drove away the beasts of the forest, and she could not allow that.

Ground sank at her feet as she stepped from frozen soil to thawing earth. She knelt low, and moist earth kissed her fingertips as she inspected the paw print that was deep in the dirt. It was the largest wolf tack she had ever seen, and deeper than most. This wolf was quite massive. It would be a fine meal.
The dirt was quite moist and the tracks were fresh. It was somewhere nearby. She nocked an arrow, and half-drew the bow string. Her eyes focused down the wood shaft of the arrow, and scanned the shadowy trees that stood behind the heavy veil.

Shifting leaves rustled as though something dragged across the soil. It was not the sound of a wolf stalking in the wilderness, but something much larger, and far more deliberate. There were not footsteps in the leaves, but rather, slides. It was a strange sound that brought with it even stranger grunts and snorts. Whatever the beast was, it was something she’d never seen. It sniffed the air with loud ragged breaths. It was no beast of the forest, for they were silent and cautious. Whatever this was feared not men or predators.

She froze in place, and drew the bowstring to her ear. The breeze whistled through the bare branches of the dead ash trees and carried a haunting melody along the boughs. No birds called in singsong in the forest, though it was silent the entire morning, it was the first she’d noticed it. The unnatural fog blanketed an unnatural forest.

Clouds encroached on the golden rays of the midday sun, and shafts of light darkened to the dull gray glow of an overcast day before a storm. She looked up to the skies, and saw no dark clouds, but rather a white blanket, far too white to give birth to such a dreary light. Waves of foreboding chills quivered in her limbs and her hands shook as she stared through the ever thickening mist.

Shadows shifted in her peripheral vision, and her eyes turned to the silhouette of a tall stag. It stared at her through the mist as though she were nothing more than part of the forest, much like most animals did. It turned its head about as it inspected her form. The wind blew at her back, and she knew that it hadn’t caught her sent.

Snorts and grunts pierced through the silence, and she realized the wind carried her scent to whatever it was that dragged across the leaves in front of her. Edda’s skin crawled with gooseflesh, and she stepped back. Her breath stopped as the soil beneath her feet churned and gurgled. It was strange that only moments before, the earth she had inspected was only half thawed. Now it was more of a mud than dirt, and yet the cold air was certainly not warm enough to thaw the earth, especially so fast. This was something else.

The smell of blood filled her lungs as she drew in a short breath through her nose. She looked down, and rusty, muddy earth rolled over the top of her boot. Damn the mud. She was stuck here in the woods with whatever the beast was. If she dared lift her feet, she knew the suction of the mud would make far too much noise for her to remain hidden. Wind continued to blow at her back, and she knew eventually the thing would catch her scent.

Her fingers ached from maintaining the draw of the bow. Her hands burned and her arms shook. She couldn’t keep this arrow drawn for much longer. The stag to her right jerked its body as she turned her head, and it darted away in a sprint. As it ran, a great shadow dashed across the earth in a dark flash of lightning. It looked like that of a wolf, but it was enormous like the bears of the north.

It lumbered through the woods, cracking sticks, and dragging leaves behind it as it ran with more of a bounce than an actual sprint. It seemed as though its front legs were more like arms than legs, and struggled to keep up with its hind. It grunted and snorted as it gained on the stag, and mist twirled and shifted about behind it as it sliced through the fog.

In a shrieking grunt, the thing lunged upon the beast and the ripping of flesh and cracking of bones echoed through the ruckus. Edda lifted her foot, and as she thought, the soil sucked at her boot and slurped its gurgles as she broke off through the forest. Twigs and thorns whipped at her from all sides as she ran, and the carcasses of beasts lay upon the ground. Leaves around them were red with blood, and the soil grew ever softer.

The smell burned her nose and eyes, and sweat dripped from her brow. She cursed herself for abandoning her stealthy ways and taking off into the forest. Surely she made sounds that the beast could hear, for anything could have heard her ruckus. She slowed her pace, and crawled into a tangled bramble. Behind her, the thing lumbered through the forest toward her. Wind now blew from her right side as she took off away from the thing. She was thankful she had enough sense to keep her scent from the thing.

Now, it crashed through branches and leaves aimlessly searching for her. As it came closer, it revealed itself in the mist. It was no wolf at all. Black, ragged fur, covered its hide like dirty wool. Hollow eyes that glowed with pale green shifted this way and that as it sniffed the air in sharp snorts. Long, jagged teeth stabbed from its jaws in a particularly asymmetrical pattern in all different directions. Blood dripped from the tips of them into the cold earth, and long claws sank into the blood soaked soil as it walked. Its front paws dragged across the earth and as she thought, they were more like arms rather than legs. Rather than paws, knobby fingers curled beneath furry hands. Upon each finger, a jagged claw stabbed in aggressive arches into the mud.

It stopped in its hunt for her, and stood on its hind legs, revealing a bare, muscular chest that was more like the chest of a man than that of a wolf. Scarred, dark skin stretched thin across sharp curved ribs. Its flesh sank between the bones in a rather eerie fashion as though the thing were more of a skeleton than a beast; one that continued to grow long after its skin had died.

A black nose that rested upon a long, snarling snout sniffed the cold air as its eyes continued to dart about in the fog. Her breath was gone as she looked at the beast from behind the veil of bramble.

“I know you’re here human.” Its voice startled her nearly out of her skin. The thing could talk! It was not a voice like that of a man but rather harsh and raspy like the grinding of stones. It gurgled rather than spoke.

Its eyes slowed their scan and it stepped forward. Green orbs focused on her, and shivers coursed through her limbs as its hand ripped at the bramble.
It snarled at her and two hands slammed into the mud upon the ground. As its eyes scanned her flesh, she felt a warm trickle down her leg, as it took another step.