—— ? ——

  Stupid freaking cold!

  Stupid freaking rabbits!

  Stupid freaking gods!

  STUPID FREAKING USELESS KAZOO SUMMONING GARBAGE BOON ASS SKILL!

  Simon's breath came in ragged heaves, his side throbbed where a creature’s teeth had sunk deep.

  With every dodge and every movement, sprinkles of blood scattered across the new snow as he retreated from the onslaught.

  He dodged another mutant bunnie's leap towards him.

  Every single thing about this entire situation sucked.

  Simon realized an extremely important fact.

  Whenever he punched or kicked, it landed like wet noodles slapping concrete. He had tried to pin the stupid creatures with some of the mixed martial arts he had learned in his past.

  Nothing.

  All he would get were sharp claws or teeth removing chunks of flesh Simon sorely needed.

  As if the universe had dipped the creatures in oil, rolled them in butter, and then given them the dexterity of a caffeinated chipmunk.

  The first time it happened, the creature slipped from Simon’s grasp, nearly costing him a digit.

  After several more ineffectual exchanges, Simon’s mind finally caught up.

  Varrax’s Curse.

  —- WARNING —-

  > You have been cursed.

  > Curse: Damned

  > Type: Divine - Prohibition - Martial Domain

  > Source: Varrax the Unyielding

  > Duration: Permanent.

  > Effects:

  > You are barred from all martial advancement paths.

  > You are unable to channel martial energy.

  > While affected you will be unable to use martial weapons or weapons of war.

  > Additional Restrictions:

  > This curse cannot be removed by anyone other than the source deity

  Sometimes a door closes. Other times, a vengeful deity nails it shut and sets the hallway on fire.

  ——————————

  “YOU OFF-BRAND-PROTEIN-POWDER-NAMED ASSHOLE,” Simon roared.

  Simon desperately dodged as the second mutant bunny catapulted towards him from his side.

  After failing to tackle or lock down the little assholes, he had changed his tactics to defense.

  All he needed to do was continue to avoid their attacks and get out of the open and to the trees.

  There, he could use the trees and boulders to gain an advantage against the two creatures.

  He was doing well. He was halfway to the trees despite the searing pain.

  Simon was desperately willing himself to stay standing. He wished he could get a moment to breathe. Simon wasn’t sure if he would even be alive if it wasn’t for his ‘Moment of Grit’ ability.

  The best he could remember was, as long as he had the mental capacity, he could stay standing.

  Seconds had dragged into eternities of pain, accented by fresh blood dripping down him and an icy chill seeping through the holes in his once pristine clothing.

  The world had gone back to being moonlit right after he had killed the first rabbit. Simon was forced to squint and focus everything he had to keep track of his attackers.

  He was only a few steps from the treeline and had been successful at limiting injuries when the aurora returned.

  Wow… it’s so gorgeous… Simon thought, entranced by the snake-like ribbons of pink and green. His retreat faltered. Against his better judgment, he stood rooted, gaze locked on the shimmering sky.

  By the time he realized something was wrong, it was already too late. Pain exploded in his shoulder, sharp teeth tearing into flesh.

  “Wha… What?!” he gasped, stumbling.

  His mind was blurring. Vision spinning. Simon could see the darkness closing in.

  NO!

  Simon dropped and rolled. He could barely see. His vision had pin pricked into insignificant points.

  But he knew the next attack was coming.

  His shoulder lodged passenger slipped off of him.

  Simon just kept rolling.

  Co… me… ON!

  The fluffy snow tumbled into his clothing, stuck to his face, and stung his wounds, sending fresh waves of pain.

  “AGHRAGH!” he gave a barbaric yawp then coughed up blood.

  The waves of pain brought his mind back from the brink of the abyss. Simon’s mind boiled in anger.

  NO NO NO! He mentally screamed.

  As his resolve hardened, his senses whooshed back to him. It was like he had been in a dark room and someone had turned on the lights.

  He had a horrible feeling. Acting on instinct, he stopped rolling, placed his hands below him, and shoved as hard as he could.

  Pain rocketed through him and fresh blood spilled, but his muscles came thorough.

  They propelled him upward, and he managed to catch himself with a clumsy back step.

  The two blurs of fur that landed in the recently abandoned depression chilled Simon more than the arctic wind.

  Less than a second from death.

  The bunnies had slammed into each other, overly eager to pounce and devour the bleeding human. They were a tangle of limbs and scratching.

  Simon took a sickening fluid filled breath and then reached for his skill.

  The pulse of energy rippled from his chest.

  “Come on… come on!” he hissed through clenched teeth. “Something good…”

  The rabbit creatures had almost untangled themselves.

  With a pleasant Shhhk-shhk, a pair of maracas appeared

  One in each hand.

  Simon blinked at them.

  The rabbits blinked at them.

  The world seemed to hold its breath.

  Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

  Simon gave the maracas a hopeful shake.

  The rabbits twitched.

  “Oh, you have got to be kidding me.”

  The first launched at him.

  Simon fell into the echoing steps on instinct. He twisted, fresh blood poured from the motion, but he ducked low and–without thinking–smashed a maraca sideways into the incoming blur of teeth and fur.

  A sharp CRACK-shhk rang out, and the bunny met maraca.

  To Simon’s shock, the impact threw the rabbit sideways, sending it tumbling into the snow.

  It went end over end and then stopped, unmoving.

  Simon stared at the maraca.

  It was still intact.

  A grin broke across his bloodied face.

  “That’s more like it!” He yelled, voice hoarse and wet.

  The second rabbit hissed and crouched down.

  Shhhk-shhk came the sound as Simon motioned the bunny to come.

  It launched off the ground.

  Simon stepped, dodging to the other side, and brought both maracas to bear.

  A satisfying THUD-shhk! sounded as he caught the creature in its midsection and grounded it.

  Squeaks and maraca sounds filled the frozen landscape as Simon beat the evil creature into the snow.

  With a final CRACK-shhk to its head, the creature ceased to move.

  Simon was on his knees, victorious but struggling to breathe. He coughed and tried to clear his lungs. The pain had fled for those few precious moments, but now it had returned in full force.

  He snarled and clenched his bloodied teeth. He refused to pass out.

  Looking down at the creature that he had bludgeoned to death, he shivered.

  Creepy bunny.

  With that thought, his mind snapped to full attention, and he quickly scanned his surroundings.

  He couldn’t see any movement, but that didn’t mean he was safe.

  The icy wind blew and made him shiver. Multiple holes in his clothing leaked freezing air and chilled him to his bones.

  Simon examined his surroundings as he took off his gloves and peeled his coat from his body.

  Underneath he found a previously verdant green long sleeve shirt. The silky material was soaked in blood.

  As quickly as he could, Simon stripped the shirt off, grunting in pain as it dragged across his wounds.

  He scanned again and only saw movement from the shimmering snow twisters in the moonlight.

  Simon ripped the shirt into strips of silken cloth as he tried to remember his first aid training. It had been years ago, but the concepts were simple enough.

  The numbing cold played hell with his hands as he pulled the makeshift bandages tight. His skin stung from the bitter cold, but it kept him aware and sharp.

  Simon kept pausing to look for any more ambushing bunnies.

  His teeth chattered and his body shivered as he finished the last makeshift bandage.

  With relief, he pulled the drenched coat back over his body. His wounds stung, but he would manage.

  Before putting his gloves on, he tore the remains of the shirt into as many strips as he could.

  I hope I won’t need them…

  Now that his wounds were no longer actively bleeding, he assessed what he had.

  Strips of cloth, three dead mutant rabbits, and two maracas.

  Simon looked around for his new favorite instruments of bunny slaying, but couldn’t find them.

  Oh. Right. They disappeared.

  He felt dumb, but also sad. Despite his initial shock and outage, the little shakers had done a great job.

  I need something better to fight with…

  Simon looked at the stiffening corpse of his foe.

  Oh?

  —— ? ——

  Simon’s deliriously concocted plan of violence ended horribly.

  Rabbit corpses as improvised whacking devices?

  Failure.

  He had gathered the two nearest bodies, then hobbled painfully back to the first one he’d killed.

  With torn strips, he slung a pair over his shoulder and gripped the third like a macabre, stiffened mace.

  After several minutes of limping towards the distant lights, a fourth bunny attacked.

  Simon was confident. He had seen the bunny hiding and was confident he had the upper hand in this battle.

  Then the damn aurora lit up the sky.

  Simon stared in wonder, like the little green aliens in Toy Story.

  “Oooooooooooooooh,” “Ahhhhhhhhhh,”

  The bunny did not share his appreciation of the celestial beauty.

  With a blur, it launched towards him.

  “Wait–!” was all Simon managed before pain blossomed from his thigh.

  “AHHH! You fluffy little demon!” he shouted, swinging his corpse-mace in a wild arc.

  Right as it was about to bean the stupid thing in its fluffy head, the mace jerked violently in his grip, wrenched free by unseen force. It landed several feet away in a poof of snow.

  That half-second was all the bunny needed. It twisted, claws raking his shin as it kicked off and darted into the snow.

  “Dammit! Stupid sky! Stupid demon-bunny! Stupid CURSE!” Simon howled, staggering back.

  Fine.

  He called on his skill, power surging.

  “I summon thee, my mighty —” he shouted, just as the instrument popped into his hand.

  “Kazoo! Of course! Why not?!” he muttered, bravado draining.

  Somewhere in the snow, the bunny chittered. Simon swore it was laughing at him.

  “Yeah, laugh it up, you little shit,” he growled.

  He raised the kazoo like a dagger and scanned the snow, eyes sharp.

  There.

  It was coming.

  The snow blasted outwards as the bunny rocketed towards him.

  Simon stepped in, stabbing the kazoo straight between its eyes.

  “HA!” He roared as it squeaked and dropped.

  “I. Am. Bunny. Slayer.”

  The next fight would prove that using his growing supply of rabbit corpses as an improvised shield… was also not a viable strategy.

  It came faster than expected. Two white blurs shot from the trees.

  Simon, thinking himself clever, swung one of the limp bodies up as a shield.

  This did not go well.

  The attacking bunny smashed straight past the improvised meat-barrier. The corpse slipped from Simon’s hand, replaying his attempts to pin the creatures earlier.

  “GAHH! WHY?!” He shouted while trying to remove the creature intent on turning his arm into sausage.

  With monumental effort, he shook his injured arm hard enough to dislodge the creature.

  Bonus! His erratic shaking had worked as a dodging tactic for the second bunny.

  “Okay. Okay. New plan. Less thinking. More kazoos,” he muttered as he triggered the skill again.

  Pop.

  A cow bell appeared in his hand

  “Oh yeah! I can work with this.” Simon grinned.

  The second bunny lunged.

  CLANG!

  CLANG!

  CLANG!

  Simon swung with wild force, the heavy bell catching each bunny mid leap.

  You know? Going airborne is a horrible tactic.

  The sharp rings reverberated across the snowy landscape.

  Also… not a great tool for stealth. Shit.

  He had almost finished with the two bunnies when a third appeared, drawn in by the welcoming dinner bell.

  It snuck up behind him, completely taking Simon off guard.

  But fortune smiled on the poor fool, revealing to him the path. The way of the bunny slayer.

  The creature from behind landed on his back and bit down deep...

  Directly into one of the frozen corpses still slung over his shoulder.

  Simon froze for half a second.

  Then grinned.

  “Oh, you messed up, little demon,” Simon cackled. He pulled at the corpse in the front and slung the bunny to the ground in front of him.

  CLANG!

  The cowbell came down in a brutal arc, flattening the bunny mid-squeak.

  Simon stood over the mess, chest heaving, arms shaking.

  Summoning willpower from deep within, he breathed and stomped over to the last twitching bunny.

  CLANG!

  Simon grinned as he looked at his newly gained bodies.

  “Shield? No. Mace? No.” He lifted one of the battered corpses by its hind legs.

  “But I have been shown… the way,” he proclaimed.

  He dug into his pile of cloth strips, working with frantic energy. A few awkward minutes later, two bunny corpses were strapped to his chest like some grotesque form of body armor.

  “Behold!” he gasped, swaying slightly from blood loss and adrenaline. “The Bunny-Slayer’s Cuirass!”

  Simon eyed the other scattered corpses.

  “I shall become… the harbinger of bunny doom,”

  One by one, he lashed more of the bodies to himself. No pattern. No reason.

  “I… need… more…” Simon muttered, voice raw.

  He stumbled forward in an awkward, lurching gait—armor jostling with each step—as he continued his mad march toward the distant lights.

  —— ? ——

  It had been a quiet night. Like every other quiet night.

  This shift was a joke.

  Rellin hated it.

  This entire thing was meant to encourage ‘harmony’. Originally, guards from different factions or races were supposed to be on duty at the same time.

  The townsfolk feared that if only one group guarded, then they might try something funny.

  It made sense at the time.

  Until everyone realized there weren’t that many guards. That meant a crafter would have to stay awake until the ass-crack of dawn. Or, god forbid, a council member.

  Suddenly, Varnholt became a unified force. There was no strife. Harmony reigned.

  The council nodded their heads and proclaimed that the distrust was over.

  Except they didn’t get rid of the standby watch position.

  They just removed the need for crafters to occupy it. The policy of having different factions and different races was lifted. Huzzah!

  What a load of crap.

  Now, Rellin had to sit in a cramped antechamber, sip lukewarm sludge, and stare at a wall.

  He shifted in the creaky wooden chair, tugged his cloak tighter, and glared at the cold stone like it owed him money.

  He muttered curses under his breath

  Then the silence shattered.

  CLANG.

  The bell.

  Rellin leapt to his feet and nearly tripped over his table.

  Jorik had rung his bell.

  He was out the door.

  CLANG.

  Rellin raced to the stairs.

  CLANG.

  Three bells. Something was approaching the gate.

  He burst into the gatehouse, his boots hammering the stone.

  “What? What is it?!” He shouted to the older man.

  Jorik didn’t turn. He just pointed with a shaking hand.

  Rellin followed the older man’s finger to the enchanted viewing glass. He leaned in and scanned the snowy night.

  Outside, something moved.

  Was that…

  “... is that… a man?” he whispered to Jorik.

  “... Hard to say,” Jorik muttered.

  They both stared as the man staggered towards the gate.

  He was covered in bodies of Aurora Hoppers.

  “Gods,” Rellin breathed. “They’re tied to him.”

  Jorik gave a slow nod. “Armored himself in corpses.”

  “No one’s that cold,” Rellin said. “No one’s that crazy.”

  But even as he said it, the figure moved into clearer view. Dozens of stiff little bodies lashed across chest, arms, legs. One wrapped around his throat like a scarf. One split open, twisted into a grotesque helm.

  He was almost at the gate.

  —— ? ——

  — AUTHOR NOTICE —

  > Thanks for all of the follows, favorites and comments!

  I hit 69 followers and 69 comments today.

  Nice.

  ~TheBusyBard

  Harmony is offered, growth is earned, Limits are unknown.

  ——————————