Blood Moon Chronicles: Book 1: Beneath the Blood Moon - Cover

Blood Moon Chronicles: Book 1: Beneath the Blood Moon

Copyright© 2012 by James Howlette

Chapter 12

Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 12 - Davik is a young man, with a past filled with tragedy and pain. He returns to his village to pick up the pieces, and to find the creature that killed his family. Will he find it, before it finds him? Is he ready to find out the secrets finding the creature would reveal?

Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Fiction   non-anthro   First   Oral Sex   Petting   Size   Big Breasts   Slow   Violence  

The arrow went right through his Adam’s apple, all he managed was a gurgle before falling forward. The sound he made must have reached his comrades, as I heard them increase the speed of their approach. When he had hit the ground, the arrow was pushed even further through his neck, causing a spurt of blood to escape the wound. I could see that the arrow had pierced his spine, near the base of his skull. Within moments, he stopped breathing; a large puddle of blood was oozing out around him. His left foot was twitching in short little spasms, the last ticks of life leaving his body. I knew I only had a few moments before his friends would show up. I could hear them only a few meters away. I needed to move into a new position, one that would hide me, but I also needed to see how many others I was dealing with. I looked at the trees around me and found what I hoped would be the perfect vantage point. I climbed down from my perch to where the tree limbs were overlapping and began to make my way towards my new perch.

I hopped across three trees before I was able to reach the vantage point. I only had seconds, I quickly climbed up the limbs to the perch high in the tree. I had just gotten into position when another of the lackeys showed up. I kept still as he looked around, as I did not want to make him suspicious. Once he had scanned the trees, he began to look along the ground. I took this opportunity to grab my bow, as well as an arrow. He saw his friendís body and rushed to see if he was still breathing. There was no chance of that, the kill had been swift. He grabbed the arrow and pulled hard, so much so; that he fell over. The arrowís removal allowed the blood that had been stopped from escaping, to be released. It sprayed upward, covering his face and shirt with his friendís blood. I could see the anger swelling in him. He rose and screamed for the others to join him. I did my best not to laugh at his anger and his lack of smarts when hunting. The first thing you are taught is to never reveal your position. Your prey could flee, or it could know where you are and choose to attack. After a few minutes, I heard the thumping of two or more people approaching at a run. It looked to be four more lackeys: Brant was taking no chances, sending as many as he could spare after me.

From my perch, I could make out some of them. I had opted to make it difficult for me to see, so that it would be harder for them to notice me. I was lucky that I would still be able to let loose an arrow from this position if I needed to. What I could make out perfectly was what they were saying to one another.

“The son of a bitch got Harlo. I am going to kill him, slowly! We need to fan out, the tracks end here,” the tallest of them said, “if you find him, call for the rest of us! He is too dangerous for us to fight alone!”

I could not help but find their fear amusing; I had not expected to have that kind of effect on them. Even better, their separation would make it easier for me to pick them off, one by one. It looked like it was time for my hunt to begin, and the large one, I would save for last.

I studied each of them, the tallest was their leader, he was bulky, but it was not muscle. No doubt he liked to spend most of his time, sitting with a flagon of mead in his hand. I began to wonder if the reason they had taken so long to arrive was because they had been waiting for him to catch up. I would need to take care of him from a distance: he could be real trouble in close quarters. Next to him was a skinnier fellow, shoulder height to the big one. He was lanky, but there was a fair bit of muscle on him. I recognized him as a runner of Brant’s, which explained his stature. I would need to take care of that one swiftly, before he could get away. The next two looked identical, were maybe five foot nine, and both were rather pudgy. They looked to have manure stains on their clothing, suggesting that they worked at the stables. I could not tell if they would be a danger until it came time to end them. The last of them was also the shortest, however he had as much muscle as I had. I could see an expensive sword at his waist. No doubt he was one of Brant’s personal guards, working to protect him and his home. I would have to treat each one properly, if I underestimated them, I would end up like Harlo over there.

They continued to talk, however they whispered whatever they were discussing with one another. I waited for them to start going in separate directions; the only two who did not split up were the twins. They were heading in my direction, making them my first targets - out of sheer convenience. I let them walk by my perch - I had to wait until everyone was more separated before I started the task of hunting my new targets. Silently, I followed them, moving from tree to tree until there was a fair bit of distance between the twins and the rest. I would need time to escape into hiding if one of my targets was able to call out. Slowly, I continued to move from tree to tree, making sure that I did not make any sound or movement that would be considered unnatural.

I had perfected this hunting when I was in Fardun. It had taken most of my childhood - and many mistakes - to perfect. The main issues were the risk of a branch breaking under my weight and noise that would sound like something other than birds or small critters were in the trees. It had taken me nearly six years to perfect how to adjust the weight I placed when I stepped. I had fallen many times, but after two years, I was able to effectively move around without risk of falling. What took longer to perfect, was making sure the sounds from the tree would seem normal. If a tree starts to drop an exorbitant amount of leaves for no reason, that is a sign, and game tended to run off. As well, the sounds of thumping in the trees would also cause game to flee.

Once I had mastered tree movement, I had begun to kill large numbers of game, which is how I had kept the village well fed. Nearly every family had enough meat to last a week, as well as the hides to use for whatever they needed. Now, those skills were proving more effective in hunting my would-be killers.

After nearly two hundred paces by the twins, I felt that the others were far enough away that I could begin. I nocked two arrows, another skill I had worked hard to perfect - unfortunately, it was still in need of work. In most cases, I only hit one of my targets and grazed the other. I made sure to have a third arrow in my hand should one miss. I steadied my breathing, felt for the wind, lined up my targets, and released the two arrows to their intended targets. As I released them, I knew I had made a grievous error, the arrows would not travel far enough to hit them. As I readied my next arrow, I felt a breeze build up from behind me, and blow from the ground upward. It pushed the arrows farther, and to my surprise, helped them hit their targets better than I thought.

Both men fell over, not a sound uttered by either of them as their lifeless bodies fell to the ground. They never even knew what had hit them, as the arrows had pierced them both through the back of their skulls. As both twins hit the ground, I realized that the arrows had gone right through and struck the tree. Each arrow had brain matter embedded on the shaft and blood was dripping from them. One of the arrows had an eyeball on it, a white puss was dripping from it. The bodies slumped over one another, the blood pooling beneath them.

These two were easy prey, but I might not be so lucky with the rest. I would need to keep my guard up and my wits sharp when I dealt with the others. I began to listen for the next nearest target, hoping that they had not traveled too far out of range. I would return for the bodies when I was finished with the others. I heard an unnatural noise from the south, and I began making my way in that direction, since that was the only direction, I was able to hear movement from.

After a few minutes, I was able to pick up my new target’s audible curses: he seemed to be about one hundred and fifty paces away. I picked up the pace as I made my way through the tree line as quickly as I could. I could hear that my new target was walking away from my current direction which would be beneficial in getting the drop on him. As I approached, I saw the reason for his curses. He was running as fast as his fat legs would take him, pursued by a Frokar Tiger. This Frokar was larger than most wolves, and it looked hungry for fresh meat. The tiger had carefully herded the lackey into a no-escape position, and from my spot, I could see the scene play out. He had pulled out a weapon of some sort - It looked like a sword - and was swinging it at the tiger whenever it got too close. I could see the panic and fear in his eyes as he started yelling for his friends to come help him. That was my cue to handle this now, as my other two targets would be arriving here soon.

With a smile, I decided that I would give the tiger the opening it was looking for before the rest of the lackeys arrived. I drew my bow and set my aim for his right leg, just above the knee. I steadied my breathing, let loose the arrow, and watched as it hit - pierced deep in his thigh. A deep piercing scream filled the air as he fell to the ground, unable to stand up on that leg. The tiger saw that he was momentarily distracted and took the opportunity to attack. The lackey saw the tiger moving in for the kill, and frantically slashed his sword at the tiger. It jumped out of the way, and with blinding speed latched its jaws on the fat lackey’s sword hand, just above the wrist, along the forearm. With a sharp twist, the tiger broke his arm, causing another piercing scream to fill the air.

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