Deer flocked around the cabin.

  Why can’t I just kill animals, like these? Gorv peered out the window. You know, to satisfy the bloodlust.

  ”I don’t make the rules,” his dark passenger said.

  The surreal feeling of talking to his axe was still new, but Gorv suspected it would be lasting for a long long time. The strangest part was, naturally — or unnaturally — the God, cursing him with supposed long and grim life. A life of slaughter. A life of death. To act like some unjust reaper of souls, simply to prolong the life of whatever had taken hold of him — and taken hold of Dragon. The injustice was driving him up and down the walls, and it knew it. If it at all cared was another thing entirely.

  The rules? I thought you were ’the almighty God of the abyss’. I’m sure the ’rules’ are yours to both make and break, no?

  ”Woodsman, you’re catching on. I’ll leave it at that.”

  ’Leave it at that’? You’re a God, of sorts, Gorv paused. Yet, you’re afraid. Of getting exposed by the one person you have completely exposed yourself. You’re such a hypocrite, you’re making me cringe.

  The voice did not respond. That alone made Gorv feel the weight of defeat, when it should’ve had the opposite effect. There was no understanding it, no reasoning with it. He felt the emptiness just crush him from the inside.

  Stepping away from the window, the blissful framing of deceit, a glance went to the bed. Quickly he looked away, for he saw the price of his deal with the abyssal thing; Dragon. She was a changed dog. All because he had listened to his bloody axe at that bar. She was sleeping then, but her teeth had found a new, unfitting, length. But what most made him draw away his eyes from her — was her eyes. Open. Black. The rest of her new look, he dared not spare a single thought to. His only wish was for Dragon to remember him, and for himself to do the same. Though, he could no longer be sure of that. Hard to be sure of anything.

  ***

  ”More!”

  The axe awoke Gorv, drenched in sweat. Another night filled with nightmares. He’d had enough of those while awake lately, and there was no sign of them stopping, in either state.

  Curses. I dreamt sweet, compared to having you at-

  ”I am always by your side,” it said, garrotting Gorv’s ghost of a spoken sentence. ”Take your dog. We’re leaving.”

  Leaving where, you vague lunatic?

  ”Wherever humans dwell. Or, you know, creatures of thoughts and mind. Thinkers. Yes, thinkers,” it blurted out.

  Oh boy…

  ***

  To go west, they had to head north first, to reach the main road. A road used a lot for commerce, back when the dwarves ruled the mountain and were supplied by their kin from the western lands. When humans conquered Mt. Braxius, ’The Omen’ — Gorv’s grandfather, among them, the dwarven supply road was naturally cut dry.

  Tell me again, what is the name of the city we’re heading for? Gorv asked, never having been far along that route for his entire life.

  ”Dir’Hall.”

  Dir’Hall… I’ve heard of it before. Isn’t that the great dwarven mine?

  ”City. It’s their biggest city, within reasonable distance, for your fatiguing legs,” it mockingly said. ”Though, it is famous for the mine, I’ll give you a point there… but I will deduct that point, since you confused that name for a hole in the ground. A fine hole. Not one to be given false names. Where-are-your-manners?”

  I’m not here to play games, but to kill, so who cares about the names? Gorv sped up his steps, forgetting there was no escaping.

  ”Who? Who? One minute I think you’re catching on and the next you’re acting like a- augh- blegh- a child.”

  Gorv had not heard those vomiting sounds since- Well, that day, and night, he did not want to think about ever again.

  ”I need blood. Can’t you urge yourself away, and be like Jin used to?”

  Are you saying Jin wanted your dark powers? Gorv asked.

  ”Wanted my- Of course he didn’t,” it said, sounding puzzled.

  That only made Gorv similarly confused.

  ***

  It was day seven, since leaving the cabin. Gorv was sweating, wondering if it was the worst possible route to take, dressed for the toughest climate on the planet. Although, the desert dwellers might’ve had something to say about that. Gorv excerzised the thought of himself wearing their, surely, thin and light garments. His nose let out a puff. It was still cold enough that his well conditioned breath turned white, and faded to the sky.

  A group of some twenty children, ages about seven to thirteen popped their heads free of cover, only a few meters from where Gorv walked his grim looking dog. Orphans. Thieving such. Though, before any type of leader kid got the chance to open his, or her, mouth, they all followed the youngest few in between the densely growing trees, as they had begun screaming for their lost morhers — all at the sight of Dragon’s ghastly appearance.

  Gorv spared them all a single look to each side of the road, all while keeping his pace. Sure, he was surprised to see them, but he was never really surprised by anything anymore, comparatively speaking.

  ”Gh! Graawh!” The axe’s God seemed to battle its own throat, judging by those noises. ”Aaaa- I didn’t see them coming.”

  How in the Three Hells do you see? Gorv stopped and stared, first at nothing, then he saw the melting treetops, as spring began to introduce itself earlier than he was used to. Unusually warm. Reminds me of the worst day of my life.

  ”Tee hee hee. I feel so guilt tripped.”

  A moment passed in a calm song of waterdrops, dissolving on the piles of snow and the patches of moss all around them.

  Answer then.

  ”Oh, if you actually spoke, this would be my moment to say; ’Don’t you know when to shut up and take it all in?’.”

  Answer me, or I will skewer my eyes out with the tip of the axe.

  ”Had I had hands… mouth, and a stomach, I would have gladly sat back to enjoy that piece of art. Ever thought of taking lessons in theater? I’m almost certain they’ve never seen anger quite so believable.” Laughing, vomiting, or who knows what came from it, it echoed that impossible echo, out in the open.

  With trembling — quaking — hands, Gorv stood silent. Then he took a long breath, releasing his fingers from the shaft of oak. The metal hit the rocky road with a clang, bounced once, clanged again, then lay still as a bandit in ambush. He dared not look back at it, not even once. Soon after, Gorv ran, ran like he was trapped in his deepest nightmare — because truly, he was. And, in true nightmary fashion, he fell. No idea how. His hands saved him just in time before he ate the cobbles. Before missing a beat, he ran again. And again, he fell.

  The- The ground. It- it- it’s moving, I can swear by it!

  It was just like he imagined clashing waves, how difficult a sailor must have had it on the vast ocean.

  Metal on rock. A long piercing, scraping sound, cut by irregular thudding. Gorv turned his head happily as a lady about to be mugged. It was the axe. Those two eldritch teeth-holes had a couple of, what could most accurately be described as, spider legs, but with an impossible number of joints — all the while a black cloud engulfed the blade. As hints of light glinted in the deep of that- that thing, he realized what exactly he saw, through that dark fog — The abyss. Such as he saw it — clear as day — in his treacherous cabin.

  Oh my God, what are you? Gorv shot to his feet.

  The axe clattered flat against the road. He knew it wouldn’t let him go. But there it was. No dark cloud. No spider legs, or whatever the Hells.

  Dragon did not flinch. She merely looked at him, with those empty eyes, like he was the crazy one.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  I don’t know what your deal is, Dragon, but I don’t like the new you.

  She turned her gaze and found a pissable tree next to them.

  Fuck, is this my life now, he worriedly thought, as he wondered if Dragon would still answer, when their lives depended on it. This was the big question. After all, Gorv chose the darkness, to save her life.

  Reminding himself the ground was no longer infested by jelly-jam, he arose to his feet, looking at the oh so still axe.

  Why me? he thought. I tried to do good. Tried hard, all my dumb life. Now life just turns on me at every corner — damn, every straight even.

  Not thinking straight, more so upside-down or backwards, Gorv found he had already bent the knee and picked up the axe. It hurt this time. Though, he wasn’t sure if it was all in his head.

  I’m losing it.

  Dragon stood where the road peaked, a lot further ahead. She used to wander off alright, but never like this. It was too far, and she seemed hell-bent on a mission. Not playful. Not sniffing. Nothing. She had kept a steady pace and then just — waited. Body forward. Head back. Just quietly awaiting her master.

  The chills came, prodding, haunting Gorv.

  This is not you. Gods help us.

  A distant laugh, deep in his mind, it tore at him, like he was made of thin paper. He shook his head and instinctively opened his mouth to banish all of the pain. Of course, he expected no sound, and no pain to go with it.

  But — sometimes, when life seems to want you dead, it gives life anew. This, this was such a time.

  Sound did come, and he would never be the same again. No words, but an indescribable baying, like a thousand hounds, as if standing in a mad uncontrolled contest along the horizon. Dragon, who looked like a mad beastly abomination of times beautiful and forgotten, cowered in fear, turned and strutted to him, as if scolded for the first time of her life.

  ***

  Eventually Gorv, still in chock, reached road’s peak. His sighthound, or whatever one would label her as then, patrolled beside him.

  So that down there is Dir’Hall?

  Fresh plumes of smoke billowed thick in the morning air. Gorv counted seven such pillars.

  Are they-

  Bong!

  A bell, sounding deep as a mountain treasure, echoed — and continued its echo, grimly, against that fell, dark, ominous wall, surrounding the dwarven stronghold.

  …prepairing for war?

  The surface level of the city looked broken, as shards of glass. In the middle; the gaping hole. Chaotic in its craftsmanship, yet structured at the same time. Sharp edged buildings framed an opening fit for demonic passage and sacrifice on any world, making actual hellgates jealous.

  Maybe this is one of the three? Gorv could not resist thinking.

  As all kinds of preconceived notions of this place wrestled each other, Gorv noticed a few dots, moving out of the main gate, where one of the fires spewed its toxic fumes. One of those dots must have had pipes like an opera singer. The voice reached them, up on that peak, yet it was deep as the mine itself. More dots faded into vision, and soon enough; there stood a horde — the dwarven horde, welling out of that gate like their time had come to seek reckoning upon the world.

  Been through so much, I don’t recall why we’re even here.

  The smell of burning embers hit them, as the winds had little else to choose in ways of direction.

  The road branched off to their left, and the way to a different adventure was tempting.

  Dragon looked up at Gorv as they began to move — straight, towards the awaiting legion and the almighty drums of war. He would need cunning this time, unlike the messy time at the Golden Pig.

  You and me, facing Dir’Hall. Who’d have thought such a stupid thing?

  Dragon growled, eyes poised down the valley, as if ready to try out new teeth.

  They evolved, at least, Gorv thought, oddly impressed by the length of her excitedly dripping canines.

  ***

  The slabs of stone beneath their feet made less of a sound, as they appeared more smooth the further down they went. The smooth paving got wider, and soon it stretched many houndreds of meters. Almost as if swarms of soldiers were meant to tread that steep valley, by the regular.

  Dots turned to little individuals. Two dwarves shot ahead on their mounts.

  ”Let me do the honours.”

  I thought you’d gone to sleep.

  ”We creatures of the void never sleep.”

  Not yet, perhaps. Though, I’ll find a way.

  ”You humans,” the axe paused. ”Well, some of your kind anyway, do not exactly lack resolve. For that, a bit of credit is due, at the very least.”

  Spoken like a true undercutter. I like you best when you don’t exist so much.

  Darkness, if only for a fraction of a moment, pulsated from the blade, startling man and dog to an equal amount, even feeling a strange kind of pain, deep in the mind. The instict was to drop the axe, but the dried up and bloody, scabbed knuckles, closed his fingers right back, clasping shut over the hilt, as the axe did not move. When something is unaffected by gravity, that’s when you know it-

  Horns sounded off, piercing through every bang of the drums. The rattling armor of thousands upon thousands of greaves hit the cobbles, beginning their march towards them.

  It struck the woodsman, the wide valley was devoid of wooden branches, trees, trunks or stumps — Impossible to hide.

  Smart little race, the dwarves.

  Thoughts of admiration never quite left his mind, as they also passed many ledges, small ones, shaped perfectly into the slope, so as to not alarm anyone ”visiting” the place. That is, until it would be too late.

  Be on your guard, old friend. I can smell the ambush. The axe was drawn, grip tight.

  Those dots down in the deep had turned to shapes of walking metal with big beards, fluttering about in the wind. The drums were joined by a synchrinized chant, in a foreign tongue.

  Hey, axe-creature. Gorv looked around for any type of environmental advantage. Sure, he had the high ground, but alone, with his dog? It felt a bit staged, possibly for something unexpected to happen at any given moment. Is this really something we should be doing right now?

  Only a wheezing sound came back to his mind, as a reply, on the verge of that familiar, crazy laughter.

  Oh my god.

  ”You called?”

  No not- Not like that. Get out of my damned head, you inbred freak. Now, what in the devlish puss is going on down there, Gorv pondered, as a bigger creature emerged from the gate, squeezing through it, clawing itself to the outside. Uh… What in the-

  Dragon started making uncomfortable noises, stopping in her tracks.

  The clawed monstrosity un-hunched and stood up straight.

  Uhm. What is it doing now? Gorv also stopped.

  It stood straight alright. But before long, it continued, bending backwards. It screamed, as if it tortured itself. It bent to a point where its head rested on the ground between its feet, arms spindly, hands gripping the ground before its inside-out looking body.

  I’m not going down there. What is that thing? Did you know about any of this? I thought the dwarves were reduced to ashes in this world, after the war. Gorv raised the axe before his eyes, but no explanation was offered. He lowered the weapon again and turned to his hound. What should we do?

  He made sure she knew from the expression he wore, tired across his face, what he really meant.

  Dragon whimpered and then barked. She sounded like herself again, which was a great relief.

  She barked again, this time forward facing — not normal sounding. His heart sank, for the hundredth time, give or take a couple.

  Then she howled. It seemed unending.

  You don’t need to alarm them, Dragon. Gorv was astounded. You must be out of breath soon, or you’ll collapse.

  Next, Dragon’s noise got raspier, thicker — deathly sounding.

  Alright, alright! Let’s move then. The sooner I die, the better for my health. So they moved. One hundred meters. Two hundred meters. I must say, I don’t see our endgame here. Three hundred meters.

  The dwarves kept a good pace on their end, getting louder and louder.

  The disjointed giant crept, awkwardly, scraping, hitting its head against the cobbled soil every other step. If you could call, whatever that thing moved like, ’steps’. It banged hard fists against the ground, seemingly in frustration over its own existance.

  Poor thing.

  ”Poor thing?” axe finally said. ”That reincarnated demon is attoning for its past life’s sins. Poor thing? Usually, the bigger they are, the worse sinners they were.”

  Past life? What in the three Hells-

  It began to cackle in his grip, as the blade seemed it couldn’t help itself, but to fart out some of that deep space smoke.

  ”I will let your mind puzzle this riddle in whatever time you need.” Its smoke retracted into those tiny holes of the blade. ”I hope you won’t object, dearest man of the cold woods.”

  Apparently this ’past life’ ordeal played part of some bigger picture — if things could actually get more intense in Gorv’s life. If there was one thing he did not need, it was more worry, accompanying his anxiety.

  So, what happens now? Seems to me we’re strolling to our deaths.

  ”No. No, this is no time to die — but to live, like never before.”

  O… kay.

  Zing! Swoosh!

  An arrow. And another.

  He threw himself and Dragon leaped behind hostile, unmanned, cover.

  ”Oi! You go ’round! Flank!”

  More sodding dwarves. Returning home, apparently.

  ”Same thing, crustbeard,” came an insult. ”’Tis why you go first!”

  ”Big lad! Chop his knees!” a flanker yelled — It sounded like many.

  ”Sixxxtyone of them,” according to the axe.

  How can you know?

  As absurd as it sounds, the axe drew a breath — an inhale of frustration.

  Nevermind. What happens now? Can’t go either way.

  ”No? You’ll love this, ’Iceman’.”

  The axe God presented a presented a trickle from its two holes in the blade. As if plucked from the vast beyond itself, this liquid clashed with the ground in some form of chain reaction, whereby it ended as a plume that was all too familiar to Gorv and his companion.

  ”Walk. Retreat, though I do not usssually opt for the option.” It spat, somewhere in its own realm, maybe. Who knew how this mad director worked around the rules of reality.

  Walk?

  ”I swear captain… Biggest human I saw in a long time. He was here, hound and all,” sounded a puzzled dwarf.

  ”We all saw it, calm yourself.” Their leader had a row of horns spiking from the chin of his helm. ”Careful lads. I believe there’s magic about.”

  Gorv and Dragon circled the platoon, hidden in plain sight, keeping the distance of some five meters at first.

  ”Quiet,” said ’Chinhorns’.

  Seven meters. Nine. Ten.

  Snap!

  Fucking twigs.

  ”There!”

  The platoon faced the right direction — or the wrong one, from Gorv’s read of the situation.

  ”I’ll try what I can muster. I would rrreally need more blood. Anyhow, look mean ok?” said the axe.

  Mean?

  ”Who am I kidding? Just be yourssselfff,” it said, strangling itself, or something. ”You are a natural. Oh, and dog; try and smile. Smile away, as you like.”

  What in Vantirium and the great-

  As if prodded by a thousand needles in their ballsacks, the dwarves screamed. Some fell on their backs, sprawling. Some ran into each other and then fell.

  In the end, none dared remain.

  What did you do?

  ”I let myself go a little. Trussst me, it is sometimesss… best not to- gjaah! Not to know. Let us just say it was-” It tantrumed a violent coughing spree. ”Where was- Ah, yes. It was simply a trick of the light. They saw you as more. They saw doggy here as fit for Hell. They heard sounds that should not be remade.”