The Essence Carrier (continued) - By Johnathan Evans - Anime - http://maxpages.com/johnsficpage/Essence_carrier

The group of dead guys however was very different. I figured in my minds eye (because I had no real way of looking) that these weird guys had to have carried SOME sort of weapons with them. It seemed only reasonable to hope, I mean, these guys looked as though they had died fighting, not running, which is what I most defiantly would have done if I’d actually seen this snake before I got close to it. I also thought I’d remember seeing Glittering objects on the ground as I was running forward, but at that I could not be sure and was worried that I was about to risk my life on Wishful thinking.
I would only have one chance. One chance to maybe succeed and live awhile longer or one chance to fail miserably and probably die before I had the chance to realize I was dead. One chance before this snake thing caught on to my developing plan, which involved a great deal of dumb luck, and killed me anyway. Just one chance.
My plan, which wasn’t all that great of a plan I now admit, was to wait for the one moment when the snake decided to just attack me, and dive off to the side reaching for whatever weapon/object I could get my hands on, (as long as it had a pointy end, I was set) the I would swing my thereto unknown object and stab or slash or hit the snake with it. I wasn’t thinking about what would happen if I couldn’t find something that would actually hurt the thing, or weither or not I would actually have time to use it IF I managed to grab a hold of something. My plan had holes so big that you could drive through it, but I was set and I was going to try this come hell or high water.
Hopeful, in the near-final stages of my elaborate and amazing plan, the snake would over-reach itself in the attack and I would be able to beat on its unprotected neck. If this managed to succeed I would have just one shot to either seriously wound this creature, or to kill it and be done with it. One clean shot to a creature that was at least three times bigger than I was and tough enough to take out a group of people with little or no harm to itself.
Perhaps it was no wonder that I felt I had been pushed to a desperate act like this, but this was the only plan I had and it was most likely the best chance I had to come out of this alive.
So I stood there, concentrating as hard as I could until it felt like every fiber of my being was being forced into this one brief moment in time. This one last moment that I was sure of my mortality, the moment where my entire life would be decided in a flurry of movement and blood like the crest on a mountain, where I could easily totter either way. Only this was no mountain and if I fell one way I would be facing the oblivion of my own imminent death. This moment I was practically living for, this face-off, this contest of wills, this rebellion against the seemingly inevitable fact of my own death.
I would not, cannot and shall not ever give up just because I’m afraid of the consequences; it is simply not in my nature to so.
“Make your move ugly. I haven’t got all damn day.” I managed to say in a rather calm voice that surprised even me, and managed to illicit a gasp of surprise from my “Friend”, who was some distance away by now. I supposed he had figured that I had died of fright or something because of the long period of silence, but I wasn’t too concerned about him at the time.
So I concentrated even harder than I had before and I slowly became aware of a slight humming that was coming from the snake. This humming seemed to be very low key and I was lucky I managed to hear it all with the wind blowing somewhat loudly through the tall grass. The humming however allowed me to catch sight of something else I hadn’t seen before, a miniscule movement in the snakes upper torso that looked as though the snake was shifting it’s weight back on forth on either side of it’s body. This confused me at first but then I remembered something I learned from a boozing instructor once; he told me that muscle movements in the chest and arms could foretell any attack or movement. Someone who is skilled at this technique can literally predict what attack that is going to be used on them and can counter accordingly and it could even be used to detect a feint.
Even though this snake was not a human, I figured that the concept was still the same. The snake was shifting it’s weight back and forth because it was still deciding where it should attack me from and I had to pay attention because I would only have an instant to judge where the attack was coming from and be able to dive off to the other side.
To make matters worse, I had a sense that the snake was well aware that I planned to dodge it when it attacked me and was trying to lure me into a trap by feinting me to dive into the direction it was going to lunge at. I cannot say how I knew this but I was defiantly certain of it. Maybe it was in the way the corners of its over-large mouth were slightly turned up at the end, in the sly and sadistic grin of a movie villain. Maybe it was the feeling of dismissal and pride that this thing seemed to emanate out of it’s pours like some sort of bad perfume mixed with B.O. Whatever the hell it was, It helped me to realize that this thing knew what I was planning and simply didn’t consider it worth worrying over.
God may know how long I stood there, sweat dripping down my face and making my eyes sting, but I certainly do not. Time had literally stood still for me and the only thing that mattered to me was to come out of this alive. Everything seemed trivial, pointless, compared to the looming threat to my life. I wasn’t acting out of fear mind you, more like a desperate urge that I must not die like this; alone, beaten and ignorant of the world around me.
I was focused and pissed as hell, so when the thing finally did decide to lunge at me I was able to foresee it in time. I quickly dodged to my left while the snake shot past the spot where my head had been only moment before. My hands fumbled on the ground while I looked straight upward at the snake’s face, which expressed a combination of rage and surprise, before my hands managed to grab hold of a wooden shaft lying near the ground. I had turned by hand to thrust it upwards just as the snake turned towards my prone form and was opening its jaws wide.
Other than the fact it was wooden and circular, I had no idea what I had grabbed. So it came as a complete surprise to me when the snake let out a blood curdling high pitched roar and rear back on its tail, A long spear jutting out of one of it’s great and fear-inspiring eyes. A strange combination of blood and an odd jelly substance trickled out of the hole where it’s eye had been and in the briefest of moments I had to look, it turned it’s other eye towards me and gave me a pleading painful look, The it reared up again, creamed once more and began to fall heavily forward. I barely managed to get out of the way in time.
It died there soon after, Writhing and squirming on the ground. I watched with a dark fascination every second of this creatures demise. The moment I was absolutely sure it had died that cold anger suddenly flew out of me and I was left feeling hot, sweaty and exhausted. Every fiber of my being seemed to be shaking like mad and nothing I could do would make it stop. I was on the verge of passing on.
I heard a scramble of movement behind me that made me cry out and jump about a foot off the ground. When I turned to look I saw that it was my new “friend” and he was staring at me stupidly with a look of shock that I have yet to see another human being duplicate.
“How…… how…. How did you…”
But that was all I heard. I was swimming once more into darkness and this time I was welcoming it with open arms
Everything was spinning. Not that I could really see anything with my eyes closed, but everything was spinning none-the-less. You know that feeling you used to get as a child when you would spin around in circles a lot, that feeling of nausea and the way things seemed to keep moving even though you’ve stopped? This feeling was like that: only coupled with tumult of sounds and a damp chill that seemed to work it’s way into my very bones.

I wasn’t entirely awake yet, I guess a part of me really didn’t want to wake up, but I was aware of these things. The sounds came from some sort of gushing water nearby and a group of voices talking not very far from where I was laying. The importance of this fact didn’t hit me right away and during the first few moments of consciousness all I was able to do was to lie there and listen to the up-down rhythm of those voices.
I was awake by then but I was feeling so nauseas I was afraid that if I opened my eyes I would most likely puke. In addition, I felt shaky all over with waves of heat and cold rushing over my body like someone who is in the grip of the flu or some other similar sickness. Sick was how I felt but I guess some part of me knew that it wasn’t a serious thing because I made no effort to try and go back to sleep and that seasick/spinning sensation slowly began to fade.
Presently, I was able to start making sense of some of the voices around me.
“You were foolish to bring him here.” A mans rough voice said. His words were reproachful but his tone was indifferent as if he didn’t care much one way or the other and yet there was something underneath his voice, something that is very hard to describe. He sounded indifferent but there was something else in that tone, some sort of tremor or warble that SAID one thing but seemed to suggest a half dozen others. It’s sort of ironic that I only noticed it then, recovering from whatever sickness had taken me, then later when I was actively a part of their group.
“I couldn’t just leave him there to die. If he hadn’t stumbled onto the chrishnark it would have caught me. It was already tracking my scent.” Another mans voice said slightly defensively. He sounded young, and nervous as if he wasn’t sure he had done the right thing.
There was silence for a minute, Intense, reproachful silence, as if the first man had decided to punish the second by simply looking at him as my own father used to sometimes to do me when I was much younger. It’s a stare that I think most parents or other individuals in a position to teach learn. It’s a look that seems to say, “ Go ahead. Quail before me. Cry and whine and admit every mistake you’ve ever made. Say your wrong and say your sorry because we both know you are.” It never mattered if you WERE wrong or not, this look was the ultimate test of guilt. If you trembled or shook or cried… then you were guilty, end of story.
It was during this silence that I opened my eyes and got my first look around at the place I was laying. I was no longer in the fields, that gentle, warming breeze had vanished seemingly without my ever knowing it was gone, and instead of a bright blue sky smiling at me I was facing a sort of rough ceiling made out of a strange red material.

well. i've got writers block and i haven't worked on it in awhile. but if anyones has ideas or suggestions i'ld love to here them
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Page Updated Fri Oct 10, 2003 3:17pm EDT