Dante was left alone at the base of a large oak tree covered with moss. Wherever the silence was overwhelming. No animal could be heard, nor the wind caressed a leaf. He rested his back against the trunk and whispered softly
– Where are you big bastard? –
His instincts told him he had to be very close, but could not see anything. The stillness enveloped everything
– You think you’re smart you? Wait till you see what I have reserved for you –
Years of stalking and ambushes had instilled enough to know that the best way to flush out someone was simply to make him believe to be discovered. With a steady hand then he pulled an arrow from his quiver, nocked it and chose a target at random
– You are mine, you son of a bitch –
Threw the dart in the middle of a low bush: it did not matter whether or not there was there behind his opponent, the idea was simply to give him my nerves so that you betrayed
– You can not escape –
A second shot directed him in the middle of a gray area created by some broken branches
– You got it dirty lousy? I can see you. Next, what are you waiting? Bring it on! –
Hidden behind the roots, Curzo cast nervous glances, constantly checking the firing mechanism
– Why did not put him in this lousy hole? With all the moisture that is here, it will end the dust bathe and bachelorette shot –
His thoughts were interrupted abruptly in a low voice by the screams of anger Dante
– Now what does he do? He speaks for itself and shoots arrows at random? What kind of the ideas running through your head? –
Curzo had never been a type of action: he had spent a lifetime behind his small desk, filling endless piles of papers and writing down the most important documents with the selfcompiler. That’s all. Did not even notice the shadow that stretched silently behind him, nor had any inkling when the air whistled and large sword came down on his neck. Dante was, however, to hear distinctly the dry noise
– Curzo Damn, I told you not to breathe … –
The head of Curzo dangled by the hair by a large gloved hand. A towering warrior, covered by a thick armor red as blood stared. Two eyes blacks as the night seemed to enjoy from behind the helmet that covered his entire face, and a long fur cloak completed the figure. In his right hand a large and serrated sword shone with violet hues, while blood dripped from his thick edge.
Dante reacted immediately. He drew a third arrow, took aim and released the shot in a few moments. She Is, however, remained motionless while the dart flew hissing at him; Then, with surprising agility for such a huge amount, he dodged at the last second, disappearing behind the trunk
– Bastard! –
Dante prepared a new blow, as his hands began to tremble for the adrenaline. The giant figure appeared out of nowhere on his left. Instinct made him turn in time and throw the shot straight into one of the eyes of the opponent. These animal let out a scream, she estraendosi the dart and leaving a blackish substance and stringy. Dante stepped back, away and incoccando another arrow
– Now bad idiots, NOW! –
Thundered two shots: the first bounced on the thick armor plates, producing a spark vermilion, but the second perforated metal at hip height. From the hole began to gush other substance black and thick as mud. It is moaned again, like a raging bull: wielded the sword with both hands and charged in turn Dante, twirling the weapon in a deadly maelstrom.
– Die, damn son of a sow –
Dante threw a new blow with precision in the leg of the warrior, between the joints of the knee, trapassandogli limb and producing a muffled sound, as if instead of the tip of the meat had gone through jelly. He is not slowed, but began to falter while two gunshots reached him in the chest.
– You’re die-hard, true disgusting pile of shit? But let’s see if you can digest even one of these –
Beno quickly loaded the bullet that kept from the inside pocket of the coat: long nearly double the normal and steel tip, was usually used against armored targets. He closed the breech of the gun, pointed the barrel sternum enemy and fired the shot. The recoil sent him flying back, between the branches, but the bullet opened a huge gash in the armor, piercing the figure of the warrior as if it were made of butter.
to be contined…
G.G.Vinciguerra, translated by Francesco Costrini (Copyright Monasterium Album)