Dust to Dust: Monster 08

Bleed

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It was a massacre.

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The grasping arms of the golem scratched at the terrified wolves, pulling any they caught into the monstrosity's gaping mouths. On contact with squirming flesh a mouth would clamp down and retreat into the scorching interior of the mud pillar, dragging the doomed creature along with it. Inside the belly of the best the canines were torn asunder, making use of the materials they dropped to reinforce the chaotic mess that currently was the golem's body.

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In a trudging, sliding motion, the abomination advanced further, assimilating any wolves it made contact with. The Alpha let out sharp barks, leading its pack in their time of crisis. It wasn't long before the remainder of the wolves were in formation in front of the Alpha, but the toll the fight had taken was obvious. Large gaps permeated the formation, gaps that now-dead comrades surely used to fill. The visual reminder of their loss further enraged the mourning wolves, and the less disciplined rushed forward to avenge or rescue their packmates.

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They did not.

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With barely any of the pack remaining, the Alpha barked out further orders, and his remaining troops gazed at him in confusion. There was discord in the ranks, but it was cured by a venemous growl from the dominant black wolf. All the wolves besides the Alpha took off in different directions, tails between their legs.

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They were no longer a pack. No honor or camaraderie, only their lives intact.

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The Alpha, stoic as always, leaped down from the tree and prowled towards the rampant golem. Unhurried even as the branches and stones cut into him he calmly walked with purpose. The sticks barely scratched his fur, the stones barely dented into his muscle. There was nothing threatening here. Simply an upstart monster to be killed, as happened so often in the forest. A mutation, an aberration, countless times had something risen up and challenged the Alpha, and countless times the Alpha had prevailed.

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He needed no pack for his work, his cleansing of the unique. They would only get in his way. He had banished his pack every time an aberration had grown too strong, since they would only feed it. Moving from pack to pack, the Alpha had traveled and guarded these woods since the first grove sprouted from the dirt. It would not fail now. Not against so disgusting a creature.

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With this experienced determination in mind, the Alpha leapt at the golem, tearing into its midsection. All was chaos as the wolf and mud mixed in furious battle with no apparent strategy. Great claws of ebony shattered stone and sheared wood on contact, gouging out great chunks of dirt and throwing them to the ground. Moving at a practiced pace, the Alpha slowly dug his way towards the center of the golem, knowing the only way to stop the fight was to destroy the core.

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However the golem was not actionless in this time. He had been preparing for the wolf's unstoppable charge, and had laid a trap worthy of such a mighty foe.

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Shards of rock numbering in the thousands were all stored at ground level of the mud pillar, all as sharp as knives. Some were drawn into the vicinity of the glowing core, where they were used to shave off molten copper. The molten copper was funneled down into the razor stones, coating them in golden resilience. After being cooled by a gout of cool mud, the weapons were prepared.

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When the wolf was digging his way through the golem, the trap was sprung. The store of copper razors were whipped into a whirlwind inside the golem, then spun around the wolf.

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The Alpha's hide was shredded by the onslaught, and his muscle fared no better.

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Once the cyclone of metal and mud had ceased to churn around the wolf's limp body, the golem slowed the rotation and came to a standstill. The Alpha's once proud composure was no more, his body broken by the machinations of the monstrosity.

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All it was now was a matter of time. The Alpha would bleed out.

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Knowing his fate, the Alpha gazed upon the aberration that bested him. It was a short fight. It was a dirty fight. It was a fight for survival. It was a good fight. Not letting his foe take any more of his attention, the Alpha gazed elsewhere. Up in the tree, where he once perched to watch his pack take on the golem, was a bloodied and torn brown wolf pelt. He had taken it once the fleeing golem had dropped it, for it was something very dear to him.

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He hadn't cared for other wolves since the beginning of his stewardship of the woods, but the current pack had worn him down over time, their affection overcoming his stoicism. Gazing up at the brown pelt, he closed his eyes and thought of the one that used to wear it so gracefully. The brown wolf had broken his spirit long before the golem had, and she had done it in the best possible way.

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A wolf's howl reverberated through the forest, its mournful wail so sad that even the sky stopped its downpour in reverence.

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In this dead silence where no irreverent sound could trespass, the forest witnessed the passing of the Alpha.

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A black wolf pup raised its head from a warm nest in the pack's abandoned community cave. Hearing the heartbroken howl that permeated the air, his eyes misted, filled with thoughts of a future that would never be. Raising his full body off the bedding, he prepared for the task that was now his.

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The forest needed defending, and the guardian was allowed no sleep.

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I think I need a therapist ._.

Extra chapter tomorrow