The Death Knell Falls

1

The crashing sound of the waterfall was nearly deafening in the small cave that sat behind the cascading wall of water. The cave had a small shallow pool at its mouth before being replaced by hard, damp stone that stretched back to a lichen-covered wall. 

Puddles of water littered the floor, alongside clumps of moss. There was a small pile of discarded fish bones on the floor next to a huddled form. The sound of eating was interrupted as another fish carcass was discarded onto the pile. The Survivor leaned back against the wall. He had given up trying to find a comfortable position to sit and had instead distracted himself with his meagre meal. 

The Survivor had been on the run for four days now since the attack on his village. Four days of running, hiding and surviving on what little food and sleep he could manage. The night was coming and he had been desperate to find refuge before he received his first piece of fortune since that terrible night. Just as the day was coming to an end he had stumbled upon the waterfall, and more importantly, the cave hidden behind it and had quickly taken advantage of the situation. 

After finishing what little food he had been able to gather he reached into his leather bag and pulled out a large, bundled scroll of parchment. He gently opened it up and unrolled the first section. This scroll was incredibly important, even more so since the attack. The scroll contained the history of the Survivor’s family, going back sixteen generations. It chronicled everything they had done, and all they had achieved, it was their legacy. 

The Survivor could still remember the desperation in his Father’s eyes as he thrust the scroll into his hands and told him to run, to get to safety, and to protect the scroll. This scroll was all he had left of his family since the monster attack that destroyed his village and killed everyone he knew. 

The Survivor shivered as he rested the scroll on his bag. He winced as the burn on his arm brushed against the cave wall. He wanted to continue working on his entry to the scroll’s history. The events of the attack. What had happened, his Father’s brave fight against the monsters, the Survivor’s escape, and his encounters with the monsters over the last few days. But he was so tired. He had barely slept since the attack and his wounds were causing him great pain. He hadn’t worked on the scroll since the previous night. Before he barely managed to escape the monsters again. 

2

“I don’t understand why you waste time with that scroll after everything that’s happened.”

“What do you mean?” the Survivor asked incredulously. “It’s more important than ever that we record what has happened.”

“If you say so,” replied the Coward, “I would rather use the time to sleep.”

The Survivor had stumbled across the Coward on his third day on the run. He had spent the entire second night darting from cover to cover in the forest, avoiding groups of monsters as they growled and cried out in the night. As a result, he was exhausted. He had found a much thicker part of the forest, far from the haunting sounds of the monsters hunting him, and had tripped over a tree root and fallen down a small ledge, right on top of the Coward sleeping in the undergrowth. 

They had both been so startled it took a moment for either of them to realise the other wasn’t a monster and in fact, was exactly like them. At first, the Survivor had been so relieved to find another person from the village. But his new companion had quickly quashed his enthusiasm. The Coward hadn’t been pleasant when they lived in the village, and the attack hadn’t improved his disposition. 

“Don’t you want people to know what happened to the village? To our families?” the Survivor asked. 

“Kid, we will be lucky to get out of this alive, especially now you have led them right to my secret hiding spot,” replied the Coward. 

After they had realised that they weren’t monsters, the Coward had immediately told the Survivor to leave and accused him of leading the monsters to him. Thankfully, he calmed down once some time had passed, but wasn’t beyond throwing out the occasional jab. 

“Besides, I didn’t have a family left in the village. It was just me. That’s why I got out of there so fast,” continued the Coward. 

The Survivor looked up from his scroll. The Coward was strangely proud of his desertion at the start of the attack and took great pleasure in telling the Survivor how he had fled at the first sign of trouble, despite being one of the village’s night watchmen. 

“You have to look after number one,” finished the Coward with a grin. 

“I can’t believe you ran instead of trying to help,” the Survivor said. 

The Coward’s grin quickly faded. “Oh yes, because you clearly stayed and helped didn’t you?” he asked sarcastically. 

“That’s different, my Father told me to run, to protect the scroll,” the Survivor replied as he held the scroll up. 

“‘Daddy told me to run’, that’s the best excuse I have ever heard,” the Coward said, his grin returning. 

The Survivor sighed and returned to his work. 

“What are you writing anyway?” asked the Coward. 

“I’m recording the attack,” replied the Survivor. 

“Why don’t you tell me about it? I wasn’t there remember,” said the Coward. 

The Survivor paused and looked up into the canopy of the forest. He had actually been finding it hard to turn the horrifying events of that night into words for the scroll. But as he looked into the Coward’s face, he found the words were there. The Survivor talked for the rest of the day in a toneless narrative, his voice only breaking from emotion at the end. The Coward didn’t interrupt him, and neither did the monsters.   

3

It had been the Survivor’s Name Day, and it had been perfect. He had spent the day working with his Father. What had used to be a chore had become something more special. This year, the Survivor would finally be old enough to become an apprentice. And he wanted more than anything to continue working with his Father. 

While Father and Son worked side by side, the Survivor’s mother and sister were busy preparing the meal for his Name Day celebration. They were going to have his favourite. What should have been one of the happiest days of his life turned into a nightmare. 

The monsters had attacked at night. In the children’s stories that the Survivor had grown up on, the monsters always attacked at night when it was hard to see. But this wasn’t a children’s story. 

The Survivor had been startled awake by the screams and, for the first time, the sounds of the monsters. The terrifying barking and growling, the shouts and yells. The Survivor panicked and rushed out to find his Father. 

Amongst the desperate calls from all over the village, the Survivor thought he could hear his sister crying. He looked around desperately but all he could see was the Alchemist being chased down by two monsters. One smaller, on four legs, rapidly pursued the Alchemist and grabbed his leg with its teeth-filled maw. The Alchemist fell while the monster continued to clamp its teeth. Another monster, which stood taller on two legs, stepped forward and plunged a long sharp weapon down into the Alchemist’s abdomen while he cried out in pain. 

The Survivor panicked and turned and ran from the horrifying sight. He didn’t get far before he collided with a farmer who was desperately looking around. The Survivor fell backwards as the Farmer continued to hurry while rapidly turning his head. The Farmer cried out as two monsters stepped forward from the night brandishing fire which they quickly used on the Farmer while he shrieked in pain. 

The Survivor couldn’t believe his eyes. He had never seen such horrifying sights. There was fire everywhere. Many of the taller monsters were armed with fire and were using it to attack anyone they could find or simply setting the village alight. 

The smoke was choking, the night was blinding. The Survivor continued to cough as he blindly stumbled, looking for his Father. Looking for anyone who could help. The terrifying sounds of the monsters continued, mixed with the screams of those who were falling to the monster’s fire. 

Out of the smoke came the Survivor’s Father. The Survivor’s heart soared. Everything was going to be ok now. But the fear returned quickly when he saw the fear and desperation in his Father’s eyes. He noticed the burns on his body and realised that his Father was holding one hand to his side in pain. 

“Father, are you ok? What are we going to do?” the Survivor asked. 

“Son, listen to me, there isn’t much time,” he replied. “Take this, it’s our family’s scroll. You need to protect it,” he continued, “you need to run, deep into the forest. Hide during the night and run during the day.”

“What? No. I want to stay with you,” the Survivor cried. 

The Survivor’s Father quickly slapped him before grabbing his shoulder. “You are a man now, start acting like it.”

The Survivor rubbed his face before taking the scroll and placing it into his bag. “I promise Father.”

“Good lad, now run, head for the forest. Remember, run during the day, hide at night.” His Father said. 

“Come with me Father, we can go together.” The Survivor pleaded. 

More figures emerged from the smoke. Monsters. Both the Survivor and his Father saw them. 

“Go, Son, I will hold them off,” his Father said as he turned to face the monsters. 

“Father,” the Survivor called out. 

“Go!” he yelled back before charging into the monsters. 

The Survivor turned and ran in the direction of the forest. He clutched the bag holding the scroll in his hands as he ran. He would do what his Father asked. He would protect the scroll. Protect it with his life. 

4

He thought the Coward was asleep. The noises of the forest seemed deafening now that he had finished talking. Night was truly upon them both as they sat in silence deep in the woods.

Just as The Survivor was about to pick up his scroll and continue writing the Coward said “There, you have told me. Do you feel better?”

The Survivor started, “Why would I feel better?” 

“You wanted to get it off your chest I assume,” replied the Coward. “Maybe you wanted me to know the horrors I missed by running.” 

“That wasn’t what I was trying to do,” The Survivor answered.

The Coward grunted and settled into the ground ready for sleep. But just like the previous night, the Survivor wasn’t going to be sleeping. Before either of them could truly close their eyes the haunting sound of the monsters broke the peaceful noise of the forest. The terrifying barking and growling of the monsters carried over the wind. 

Both the Survivor and the Coward were on their feet, the Survivor only pausing to ensure the scroll was safely in his bag. That delay saved his life. As the Coward took off running, four of the smaller monsters darted between the trees after him with startling speed. As the Survivor turned to run, several of the larger monsters burst into the clearing, each wielding pointed weapons and brandishing fire. 

The Survivor dived for the small gap between the monsters in an attempt to escape. However, one of them struck out with its fire, burning the Survivor’s arm. He yelled out in pain, causing the monster to stagger back. Another dived forward and thrust its long spear into the Survivor’s thigh, causing him to stagger. He quickly recovered his balance and ran. He ran faster than he had ever before. 

The monsters chased him, but couldn’t keep up in the thick forest. The Survivor stopped by a tree to catch his breath. He couldn’t run anymore. Not another step. His chest burned. He looked down at the wounds on his leg and arms, as well as numerous smaller scrapes. He could still hear the sounds of the monsters. The calls, the growls and suddenly, the cries of pain of the Coward. They had caught him. The Survivor realised that actually, he could run more. 

5

The Survivor twitched in his sleep. The deafening sound of the falls had kept him awake for the first half of the night. He had finally been able to drift into restless sleep after crying, the desperate yells of his Father mixed with the dying screams of the Coward still echoing in his mind. 

A frown formed across his face as a familiar sound carried on the cold air, disturbing his shallow sleep. A sound that now horrified him. His eyes flicked open and he quickly sat upright. That sound. 

The Survivor strained his ears desperately. The sound of the falls echoed around the chamber. Seconds passed as the Survivor held his breath and just as he had started to relax he heard the sound again. The sound of the monsters. The barking and growling, the shouts and calls. They had found him. 

The Survivor stood up and looked around desperately for some kind of salvation, but there was nothing in the cave to help. Suddenly, they came, bursting through the wall of water covering the cave’s mouth. Dozens of them. Some of the smaller monsters lunged forward on leashes around their necks, spittle flying from their furious maws as they barked and growled at the Survivor. Others stood taller, holding the same weapons used to kill his family. Despite the rushing water from the falls, some of the monsters had even been able to bring the dreaded fire. 

The Survivor cried out and thrashed his arms out at the monsters desperately. One of the smaller monsters lunged at the Survivor, its teeth gripping his forearm, scraping his stony skin. He desperately tried to shake it off as one of the other monsters stepped forward brandishing fire. The Survivor raised his other hand to protect his face. The light of the torch illuminated his yellow eyes, causing the monster to step back, shocked. 

Another monster moved forward and struck out with a three-pronged weapon, piercing the Survivor’s chest. 

“Finish him,” one of the monsters cried out. 

“Get the torches,” another cried. “Tis the only thing that truly kills em.”

The Survivor pleaded as he dropped to his knees, his stony skin scraping on the cold wet rock of the cave floor. 

“Please, please just leave me alone,” The Survivor cried out as his right hand gripped the wooden shaft of the monster’s weapon. 

“End it quickly,” cried out one of the monsters, “I can’t stand its bellowing.”

The Survivor looked up at the group of monsters that stood around him and realised it was no good. The anger on their monstrous faces was clear. Why do they hate us so much he asked himself before closing his eyes and accepting his fate. The cave echoed with the pained cries of the Survivor as the monsters used their fire, just as they had with his family. 

6

The cries of the troll that they had pursued for the last four days echoed off the rock walls before dying out as it collapsed onto the floor. The villager who had stabbed it with his pitchfork looked down at it. 

“Damn Trolls,” he said before spitting on the ground. “They don’t half take some effort to put down.”

“That one wasn’t so tough, must have been a young’un,” said another man while he leashed one of the dogs that they had used to track the troll. 

“Is it the last of em though?” asked another of the villagers. 

“Aye. Won’t be causing us any trouble now,” replied the first as he stood heroically with his pitchfork.

The group of villagers gathered up their improvised weapons and torches, leashed their dogs and prepared to leave the wet damp cave and step back into the bright sun. 

“We are lucky we caught it during the day, Trolls are tougher at night,” one of the villagers said while he took an extinguished torch in one hand and a small hammer in the other. 

“No, no,” interrupted an older member of the group. “It’s the sun that hurts em. Blinds em and makes their skin soft.” 

The two continued to argue as they left the cave. Many other villagers spat on the ground as they looked at the corpse of the troll before leaving the cave. 

The last of the townsfolk to leave the cave turned back to look at the body of the troll they had chased all the way from its village. As he turned to leave, his eyes were drawn to a rolled-up scroll of parchment on the floor near the troll. He picked it up and opened it curiously. The entire scroll was covered in strange glyphs and pictograms. He was surprised by how elaborate it was. He looked back at the mouth of the cave to ensure no one had seen him pick up the scroll before he rolled it back up and pushed it into his satchel. Maybe it was worth something he said to himself as he hurried after the group.