Of Blood And Fire by Ryan Cahill (best classic books of all time .txt) 📕

In the panic, he had forgotten about it; fear had concealed the pain. Now, as his heart settled, the pain came rushing back like a rockslide. First a bear, then an arrow, then… Uraks.

He looked over the bodies of the fallen creatures. They were almost human, if not for the greyish leathery skin, the red eyes, and the jagged yellow teeth.

He turned his focus back to his friends. Calen had his hand at the back of Dann’s head. Dann’s eyes were closed.

“Dann! Wake up!” Calen shook him back and forth, gently at first, but more aggressively when he got no reaction. For a moment, Rist’s stomach sank.

Dann’s eyelids flickered. “Ugh… stop shaking me. Curse you. What happened? Did I get it?” Dann’s voice was hoarse, as if waking up from a long nap. Thank the gods.

Calen collapsed backwards, dropping Dann’s head as he did. Dann let out a sharp groan as his head cracked off the tree trunk.

Rist needed to sit down. He needed to sleep. He felt like he could barely hold his eyes open.

“Curse you, Calen,” Dann groaned, rubbing the back of his head. His eyes fell to the bodies of the two creatures, lingering on the larger, its back a muddled mess of melted skin. “What…. what happened?” Fear laced his voice.

“I don’t know,” Calen said. “One minute it was standing over me, its axe raised up over its head. Then there was a flashing light, so bright I could barely see. Then… it collapsed. Dead. That wound on its back.”

Rist nodded. “Yeah, I woke up to Calen calling me. Both of them were on the ground.”

A pang of fear rushed through his mind. Had Calen seen what he did? What did he do?

Dann nodded and exhaled loudly. They sat in silence for a few minutes. The sounds of the forest echoed in the background.

“We should probably get moving,” Dann said, a steely look on his face. He pulled himself up to a seated position. “If we’re going to carry one of these guys with us back to The Glade, we need to start moving now to get there before the sun sets tomorrow.” Dann’s words hung in the air for a second.

“Bring one of them with us?” A look of disbelief crossed Calen’s face. “Why in the void would we want to bring one of them with us, Dann?”

Dann shrugged. “Well, nobody will believe us if we don’t, and they need to know they are out here. And it’s our chance to pass The Proving – and become victors of The Hunt. Nobody is bringing back anything worse than these guys. Uraks, Calen!”

Calen said nothing. His mouth tightened into a thin line.

“But… what are they doing here? Uraks haven’t been seen anywhere near The Glade in at least two years, not since—” Rist saw the look on Calen’s face and didn’t finish his sentence.

“I don’t know, but for whatever reason, they are here,” Dann said. “We need to bring one back. Well… maybe just the head?”

Rist couldn’t hide the look of surprise on his face. “The head?”

“Well, I figure the entire body is probably too heavy for us to carry – or even drag. We could fit the head in one of our bags. Kind of just makes sense, really.” Dann spoke with a matter-of-fact tone; it was clear that he had already decided this was the best course of action. He had always been that way. Once a decision was made, Dann Pimm’s mind was like stone.

Dann got to his feet without waiting for a reply. He hobbled over to the two corpses; his hand held to the spot on his chest where the Urak had kicked him. Rist glanced over towards Calen, who had remained silent during the entire discussion. Calen always withdrew into himself when anything to do with Haem was mentioned. Uraks definitely fell into that category.

“Are you okay?” Rist placed the palm of his hand on Calen’s shoulder and lowered his head to look him in the eyes.

“Yeah… Yeah, I’m fine.” Calen shrugged off Rist’s hand and got to his feet, making his way over to Dann. Rist sighed, sitting there for a moment before standing up and joining the others.

“Which one?” Calen said.

“Huh?”

“Which head are we taking?” Calen’s voice was cold, void of emotion.

Dann didn’t seem to notice. He folded his arms as he pondered. “Well, I’m thinking the smaller one. I don’t think the bigger one will fit in any of our bags, and I don’t fancy holding a bloody head in my arms the entire way back to The Glade.”

“Okay. Well, get it done, and let’s get moving, then.” Calen didn’t wait for a response. He just walked away and sat in silence on a nearby log.

Dann turned his head towards Calen and then back towards Rist, unfolding his arms. “What’s his problem?”

Rist raised a questioning eyebrow. “You don’t see how fucked up this is? Not to mention… Haem?”

“Oh…”

“Well… Get it done,” Rist said as plainly as he could. Then he turned and walked over to join Calen on the log.

They sat there listening to the forest until they heard the loud thump of metal sinking into flesh. Calen winced at the sound. Rist felt his stomach lurch again. A grunt was followed by another thump. A few moments later, Dann stood in front of them, blood seeping through the fabric of his bag.

“Didn’t really think that through,” he said with a shrug.

“You never do,” Rist said.

As they set off into the forest, Rist looked back at the bodies of the Uraks. The axe, now wet with fresh blood, lay beside the headless body of the smaller creature. The gemstone set into the axe blade seemed to give off a red glow as the twilight sun faded over the horizon.

His eyes dragged over to the body of the larger Urak and the gaping wound of seared flesh on its back. The unnerving sound of crackling skin still wafted through the air. He looked down at his hands