“By the divine,” Albey weeps as he collapses to the dirt of the clearing. “By the divine… it’s too late… my fate is sealed.”
There are more prints. A lot more prints, bigfoot prints, made by more than one pair of big feet. They track across the clearing from all directions, even from behind the cabin, but they do not lead to the door. They center around the mark left behind by Albey’s ass when he sat and smoked from the pipe before embarking on his second expedition.
‘Smoke with caution in little pulls only when a fire is burning.’
“They’re drawn to it,” he whispers, wiping the wet dirt from his maw. “The smoke of The Flower, they know it and crave it. That’s why… by the divine, the woman knew it all along.”
Dozens of them were here, they invaded his territory when he intruded upon theirs. Did they know? Did they come out of retaliation, or were they hoping to win a meal? A quick snack, more like, for the woman they slaughtered was husky and Albey is wiry and scrawn’, he would be to them what the mustard greens were to him: roughage, nothing more and nothing less.
“She did the research, she heard the noises and the screams of the wolves dying… but still she sought them out.”
They did not try to get into the cabin, because they knew it would be empty. They slaughtered the forest bride, used her for all she was worth to them, then kept her like a trophy, like their evil deed was some sort of sick accomplishment. But the smoke of The Flower still bloomed from the clearing, so they had to come and investigate. The monsters had no other choice, they came and they saw what there was to see and were Albey here… by the divine, if Albey stayed here… he’d have been
“conquered,” Albey says, putting his thoughts into word. “They’d have slaughtered me like a pig and pleasured themselves with my corpse… they…”
Albey strikes the ground with his fist.
“They’re evil. Blasphemes. Viler than Gobon himself. Tomorrow is a day of War and surely they will be back. They know The Flower is here and the sun will soon set; if they have not yet detected my presence in their home, they will at any moment. And tomorrow they will come back to take me to their nest… but I will be ready.”
Albey rises to his feet, gripping the dagger tightly.
“I will be ready when they come, and I shall stare into the face of fear! Ka shall spin in whatever direction it may, but on the eve’ of War I shall prevail! This I promise!”
Albey stomps his foot, then screams into the violet sky.
“I shall prevail over these bipedal daemons! This I promise! To you, Iuqon, to you, Ram’rl, I promise I shall prevail!”
The last light of the setting sun wilts below the treeline.
“I promise I shall prevail!”
This has been the last subchapter of the fifth chapter of The Face of Fear, a novel about bigfoot written by the writer in Untitled Bigfoot Project. Here is everything you need to know about it:
I’ve written a few other books, too. Click here to see the list.
The Hillside Commons has a Facebook page. Here’s that.
If you’re there, hypothetical reader, thank you for being there. From this day on, we move forever forward~