Hello beautiful people! Tis Blogbattle Tuesday and I am just now sharing my results...probably because I have just only written them :P Anyhow I thank you for sticking with the story all these weeks. The GENRE:Science Fiction the KEYWORD:CAVE. To read more tales by other dedicated and talented blog battlers, you can do so by clicking HERE. To read the first installments of this tale scroll down to the bottom of this page.
Into the unknown: End of Man of Grace
The stink of Walter’s dried blood clung to his nostrils. Even beyond Earth’s atmosphere he could still smell the animal. It was the one negative mark of watching him draw his last breath, especially since the scent mingled with that of his mother’s blood.
Things had gone to plan, mostly anyway. The point was Walter was dead, the giant race had crowned Mog as their only Alpha and had boarded their long abandoned war crafts to head for destinations beyond the lands on which they had trespassed.
Earth was safe. The nightmare was over…also mostly.
Walter had played right into Mog’s plan. His blood lust had gotten the best of him, his hunger for some need to be acclaimed a hero had driven him beyond the point of being a liar and a nuisance to deadly especially to himself.
Why he had believed Mog would have actually have left his mother alone, why he believed Mog was not finally onto him, he did not know. It didn’t matter.
Grace was supposed to be his bait, lure Walter in while Mog waited for him. He was to ambush him, tear his head from his shoulders the very moment he made ready to kill Grace. Walter had skirted around the subject of killing Grace for a month or so after telling Mog his truth, his lies. I would kill her if I were you. You should just kill her. Do you think you can look at her after what she’s done to you and not kill her?
He’d sang the song too much, so much that it was a wonder that it took Mog crying in Grace’s embrace to realize what Walter intended to do. He cut himself some slack for his naivety. For a Giant of 27 he was still an adolescence. He still needed guidance. He needed his mother and even in his attempt to protect her he had not been able.
Walter was dead, yes, but not because of Mog.
Grace had deviated from the plan, the glint in her eyes should have clued Mog to her true dealings. Even until that moment she was a mother bear fiercely protecting her cub. But Mog had not realized what she was about, not until Walter’s knife had tasted of her blood.
By the time Mog had sprung upon them, Grace had been baptized in her own life source. Mog nearly caved in upon himself at the sight of her.
Walter had been quick but not quick enough. A combo of “three stitches” as Grace had called them when she had taught Mog to hunt, had been dealt Walter; a thorough slide of the knife across the neck, stab to the side, and a slice to the inner thigh ensured a quick kill, though messy.
Grace had moved like lightening when Walter came upon her armed. She stitched him well, but it had cost her. Mog winced as his mother’s shocked panting replayed in his ears.
The war craft shuddered breaking into another zone of space snatching the hateful sound from his memory’s ear. Mog checked the faces of his tribe, his heart somehow knitted to theirs upon his becoming their Alpha. They were well. Better still, his mother was well, sleeping soundly just beside him the cut upon her scalp that had cried blood like a rushing river was the only thing that gave evidence that she had been harmed.
A smile crept across Mog’s face even though fear tickled his heart. His mother had come with him left her home for him. She said he was her home.
He gently touched her shoulder. He did not know what lay ahead of them. He did not know what his home planet was like or what it would mean for his mother, a human, to tread upon such soil.
He took heart in knowing that she wasn’t the first of her kind to do so and should peace in his home planet be found between the men who’d invaded his home planet, and the Giants who remained, she would certainly not be the last.
I hope you enjoyed this tale. It was a gift for me to write it. I did not see this dream I had one random night, blooming into a short story with the bones to become a full-length novel. I certainly didn’t see the last few lines above, coming to realize that the giants invasion was more like retaliation. Were humans the first to strike at them? I don’t yet know, but I will keep you posted once I have the time to really cultivate the roots of this story. Until then, thanks for reading! Next week we are aiming to do a bit of Western…that Genre has been horribly neglected. I aim to challenge myself by showing it a bit of love.