Emily and Roger had been stumbling around the planet trying to fulfill their mission. But things didn't seem to be going to plan. Emily walked with a slight limp, and Roger held his injured arm.
'Those monsters deserved to die,' Emily mused. Trying to focus her anger on their earlier attackers rather than on the useless partner that trudged beside her. 'Ryan's so much better.'
'Wait, why am I thinking about Ryan... that letter, it's the heavens themselves.'
The creepy gargoyles had attacked them from their perches on the deserted building they stumbled upon two days into their mission.
Luckily, the gargoyles were of lower rank, and Emily was able to cut them down with her green saber, leaving Emily and Roger sore and somewhat injured.
After the gargoyle attack, Emily and Roger begrudgingly continued their mission. At this point in their journey, they were too tired to speak. They were heading back to the meeting point. Emily was tired and hungry. Earlier that morning, they agreed they would only take breaks if absolutely necessary. She felt like she needed a long break with a huge meal and a hot soak in a tub.
As Emily wobbled on some moss, she was about to call out to her... interesting partner when he slipped on the moss and tumbled on the ground, slicing his hand on a sharp rock.
"Roger got hurt!" Roger exclaimed, taking a healing pill from his sack and popping it in his mouth.
Distracted by the fall, neither one heard the rustle of the trees behind them.
A strange feeling crawled up her neck as Emily gave Roger a helping hand.
"Roger, thanks, Emily," Roger said, turning his hand over to check the healing process.
Emily whispered almost under her breath, "I think we are being watched."
"Roger understands," Roger whispered back.
Roger and Emily slowly looked around, trying not to show any fear.
A howl rang through the air, followed by several other howls that encircled the duo in a cacophony of malice.
"Roger," Emily muttered, "We have to make it to the trees. If they attack, I will try to hold them off while you climb."
"Roger understands," Roger replied as they slowly began moving toward the nearest set of trees.
Another howl, now closer, stopped them from moving.
"Head in that direction," Emily said, pointing toward a cluster of large boulders halfway between them and a different clump of trees. "We may have a chance if we hide there. Go!"
They ran, and just as they reached the rocks, they heard several growls, and the air wooshed around them.
They dove into a crevice between the stones, Emily's saber flying in an arc around them, swinging in a circle above her head.
A wolf-like monster with black fur and a frothy, foaming maw leaped out of the woods as the circling saber sliced through its Achilles tendon.
A crying howl boomeranged around the forest, and a spray of purple blood erupted from the wound.
The wolf slunk back to the forest, gnashing its teeth in fury.
ραпdα nᴏνɐ| сom "Rrrooggerr allmosstt noo mooreee Rooggerr," Roger said, his voice coming out in shaky spurts.
Emily peered out, her forehead and eyes extending out from the safety of the boulders. She sucked in, her breath sounding like a whoosh of wind on a stormy night.
Three ragged black wolf beasts were circling their stone hideout. One of the wolf beasts seemed larger and wiser than the others. That wolf caught Emily's eyes.
The wolf's eyes narrowed, showing only the red pupils. The wolf barked and shifted her head, signaling the other two wolves to attack.
The two beasts flew through the air, their long yellow fangs gnashing as saliva dripped down the wolf's mouth. They leaped on the boulders jumping and avoiding the saber slicing through the air.
Long bands of slime covered Emily, the saliva loosening her grip on the saber. Grabbing the slippery handle with both hands, she was able to keep a hold of the end, but this caused her to falter, her balance thrown off.
She slipped just as another bark howl came from a distance. Her saber hit the rock, bouncing down and crashing to the ground. Emily and Roger bent to pick up the saber seemingly lodged in the crack and felt fangs grab their necks and drag them out of the boulders.
Screaming and flailing, they tried to attack the beasts with their hands and feet, but they were no match for the agile, strong beasts. The wolves dragged them in front of the queen, waiting for instructions.
Crying with fear and pain, Emily and Roger stared at each other, knowing this was the end. Emily had just enough time to initiate an instinctive cry for help on her heavenly screen as blackness enveloped her, and she knew no more.
The pack of three caught up with the limping wolf. They darted through the trees, deeper into the forest, and raced in and out of the trees, down through jagged breaks in the mountain while dragging their prey in their dirty fangs.
Emily and Roger felt nothing as rocks and trees shredded them. They couldn't see that their bodies were slamming and bouncing off any obstacle in the pack's pathway.
They had no idea they were thrown into the lair alongside three sleeping pups, awaiting their limbs to be torn and eaten. Their bodies going to be feasted on. Fueling the wolfpack for several days.
===
The duchess screamed in disbelief. "My girl is dead! My girl is dead!" Wailing at the top of her lungs, the Duchess threw anything she could get her hands on. The priceless volcanic vases bounced off the walls, the cushions went flying, knocking off a whole shelf of handmade glass butterflies, and the side tables were overturned, sending lamps, books, and knickknacks flying.
Volf ran to hide under the large balsam wood table, traumatized from the events of today. Tail tucked under his legs, ears flat, he lowered his head to the floor, his eyes never leaving the duchess.
Still wailing, the Duchess flung open her pantry. She grabbed cookies, chips, and the priceless chocolates she was saving for gifts and began shoving the food in her mouth.
Volf's eyes lit up, and his head raised a bit. He was always in the mood for some extra food.
Chomping, spitting, and throwing, the Duchess, fell to the floor weeping. Surrounded by mostly empty packages, the Duchess rolled around on the floor, hands and feet flailing, not noticing the chocolates painting her clothes and the chip and cookie crumbs crushing in her tangled hair.
After about an hour, the Duchess lightly brushed herself off and got back into her chair.
Volf began helping the Duchess out by cleaning up the pile of food in the kitchen. For a moment, he took his eyes off his master, and hearing a scream, he frantically dodged to the side, almost dying from the plate of croissants that the Duchess towards the cupboard.
The Duchess curled up on the chair, softly crying and moaning, "My girl is in trouble, and there's nothing I can do!"
Realizing he needed to console his master, Volf gave the floor a few more licks before he headed over and laid his head on his master's hands.
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