One of the many chapters about a boy and his magical heart. |
The head moved lazily to adjust itself properly with hair swinging loosely from side to side, similar to curtains billowing gently in the wind. The hair was dishevelled, giving the impression of weeks, even maybe months of neglect. Scodric could hardly make out his face, partly from the ambient darkness but also from the fact that the head was looking downwards. It remained inert, not moving, merely standing there as if time froze. Scodric took a couple of cautious steps backwards. He could not afford to let his guard down. A split-second could make the difference between life and death. Suddenly, the head began shaking violently from side to side, making very unpleasant sounds in the process. Scodric felt his spine crawl. He wasn’t even aware that he was already holding his sword at the ready. Was he competent enough to bring an end to this evil monster? The undead cocked his head, now making its face partially visible. Scodric averted his eyes as if afraid to damage them for looking at ”it” too long. He managed to caught a glimpse of its lifeless eyes, intimidating yet cold. A tingling sensation rippled through Scodric’s scalp. Trembling, he forced himself to look at its face once more. The face was so innocent, seeming to belong to someone no older than him. There were no blemishes to be seen. Its face was pretty much flawless. A nasty smile formed on its lips, baring pearly white teeth. What the hell is this?, thought Scodric, shocked. It started moving towards him. Its gait was peculiar, reminding Scodric of a poorly-made marionette. It had great difficulty walking, but appearances could deceive. For all the hunter knew, this being could be a speed demon. Still smiling, the zombie raised its left hand. Scodric prepared himself for battle. He concentrated on his left eye and activated his special ability. Using the Miracle Eye was probably the best weapon he had at his disposal. The eye revealed an aura that was invisible second earlier. The zombie was oozing with spiritual energy. But why wouldn’t it attack? With his left hand was holding its sword steadily, his right stole into his Toarkus pouch, rummaging for one of his potent exploding potions. He found one and caressed it with its fingertips. Already in an alert fighting stance, he pulled out the potion and hurled it fiercely at his quarry as suddenly as he had pulled it out. The twin flask shattered and exploded, sending a warm,pleasant shockwave at every direction. The zombie was enveloped in blue flames with a slight tinge of red. Had he managed to finish “it” off? Probably not, because this was far easier than he had expected. He pulled out three more flasks and threw them again at rapid succession just to be on the safe side. Normally, he would have preferred using the Frostburst, but dealing with an opponent as dangerous as this one, it was simply too risky. He caught a glimpse of red rushing straight at him. He dodged it, missing only by a few inches, all thanks to the miracle eye. |