11 June 2012
Feather looked around.
The forest's mist seeped about her ankles.
It was eerily quiet.
Too quiet, as the cliché went.
At her back, her rapier rested against her spine: a welcome comfort. In her left hand, a short knife quivered, ready for action. In her right, nothing.
Somewhere, a horn sounded.
Screams.
Shots.
Probably death, but Feather shook it off. She needed to concentrate. Survival. It was not a game.
Feather closed her eyes. She let all the trivialities escape her conscience. She let go-
And, in one fluid motion, swept her rapier from its sheath, meeting her surprise attacker's sword with a resounding CLASH!
It was a boy; dark haired, dark eyed, grim mouthed. He held no remorse on his face. No hesitance.
Hopefully, neither did Feather.
The battle was a short one. Swift jabs upwards and whirling blocks to avoid blows to the knees and stomach.
The first weakness: a cut to Feather's cheek. She felt blood: hot trickles down her cheek and dripping onto her neck and beneath her collar.
The cut had made the boy reckless. He was sure of a win now.
He was decapitated within a moment: after a false lunge quickly accompanied by a true one aimed at Feather's left side, Feather used his excess momentum to let him fall.
His head thumped soon after, cleanly cut.
Ragged breath.
Panting.
Feather lifted a slim-fingered hand to her lips and wiped away the sting of blood.
And, shadow-like, she moved deeper into the forest.
Opuss Battle Royale. • Opuss № I