i wrote this a little while ago but never finished it, you can see it on my myspace profile.
Writing Stories
Current mood: bored
Havent written a story for a little while, tell me what you think !!!!
WARNING, THIS STORY CONTAINS STRONG VIOLENCE
Predator: Blood Lust
By Greg
Part 1
Southern Denmark 894 A.D
A mighty man covered in bloody furs and carrying a huge battle-axe trudges across the windy snowfields of Southern Denmark. He is Feving, a Viking chieftain. Fevings bearded face is red with dried blood, as is his long wild hair. Behind him, in the distance a great fire burns, releasing a great black mountain of smoke into the cold white sky. The great fire is a pyre for the fallen dead, there has been a great battle recently.
~~~ Flashback~~~~
Feving stands with a group of armoured men, they are the chieftains of the tribes of the south. It seems the Germanians are forming around Baldirs Plain, they look to crush us, take our land to expand their domain said Feving, he looked to his country men, We cannot let this happen, our brothers fight the Saxons on their island for the glory of Odin, we shall defend this country till the last man. The chieftains nodded their heads in unison, it was decided, the tribes would unite and crush the Germanian threat.
The Viking army assembled at the edge of Baldirs Plain, behind the cover of a great snow covered Forrest. Feving rode a great steed alongside the chieftains, they stopped before the gathering army and dismounted. Feving walked to his tent and began to strap his armour on, walking over to the weapons rack now fully armed he took a great battle-axe and a broad sword, he strapped the sheaved sword to his belt and headed outside.
The snow-covered trees of the Forrest swayed in the wind, as it brushed the snow to the ground. A figure stands hidden from sight, watching the amassing Viking hoard as it prepares for battle. Feving prepares his horse, he straps the battle-axe to the saddle and prepares to mount it. As he does he glances towards the trees, something catches his eyes, a ghost like figure Odin Feving mutters to himself, he looks closer, the figure has vanished.
The Germanian army forms ranks across the plain, they are well-organised Feving thought to himself. A man stands next to him, he is his blood brother GrÃmr. The men are ready Feving, lets send them to hell proclaimed GrÃmr, Aye brother, for Odins glory Feving replied. Feving turned to address the Viking hoard FOR ODINS GLORY! he boomed, the men cheered and began to march towards the enemy.
The Germanians advanced, their mounted warriors met Fevings troops on the snow covered plain, cries of agony filled the air as the white snowy plains became awashed with red blood, the armies met, the sound of metal against metal was deafening, warriors from both sides fought against each other like savages, bodies and blood covered the snow, men fell to each others swords and axes yet the blood bath continued.
Feving found himself out numbered by Germanians, he charged his mighty steed towards them but it was cut down by a mighty swing from a battle-axe. Feving fell to the floor dropping his broad sword, quickly he unstrapped the battle-axe from the fallen horse and began swinging it wildly against the enemy, gutting one and decapitating another. More Germanians came, swarming like locusts, Feving in a bezerker rage kept swinging and killing his foes, a group of Vikings lead by GrÃmr made a charge towards Fevings position, cutting down many of their foes in the process. GrÃmr leapt from his horse towards a Germanian soldier, his eyes wild with fury, his sword met the soldiers neck killing him instantly, GrÃmr raised his sword and let out a roar, as did the rest of the Vikings as they continued their bloody assault against the Germanians. Feving and GrÃmr met on the battle field, a large group of Germanians closed in on them, Feving holding a sword in one hand and his battle-axe in the other readied himself, as did GrÃmr, the Germanians lead by one of their Generals raise their weapons and began to strike. Feving and GrÃmr were outnumbered, the Germanians had the upper hand In the distance only a handful of warriors from each army remained, the snowy plain was now a blood soaked battlefield as bodies of the dead and dying awaited the Valkeries from Valhalla. I know today I have earned my place among my fallen brothers in Valhalla Feving said as he pulled his sword from a Germanian soldiers fallen body, he glanced up as to hear GrÃmrs reply, but there want one, we was on his knees holding his stomach, the Germanian General stood before him holding his sword just above GrÃmrs head, he lunged it down with force, instantly killing GrÃmr. Fevings eyes grew wild and angry, he unstopped his armour and threw it to the ground If I am to die this day, I will dies as a warrior he said to the Germanian General, Feving took the battle axe in both hands and charged towards the General, swinging upright towards his head. The General just managed to avoid the Battle-axe falling back to the blood soaked snow, Feving turned towards him and drove the axe deep into his chest armour, the General gasped as Feving lifted the battle-axe for another strike, this time he drove it down with greater force, killing the general.
Feving walked towards his fallen blood brothers body, from the trees the mysterious figure watches his every move. It seems Feving is the only survivor of the battle, he heads back to the camp and gathers some oil to burn the bodies of the fallen. He lights a fire and heads off, towards home. The Germanians are defeated but the casualties for the Vikings are too great, he must return home and send message to the King, to the south can be prepared for another threat from the Germanians. From the trees the mysterious figure still watches.
~~~~ End of Flashback ~~~~
Feving approached a bank of trees and a stream, he knelt before it and washed the blood from his face, pillows of smoke are still visible in the distance. From the trees Feving is still being watched, the ghost like figure starts to slowly move towards him, Feving stands and picks up his battle axe, he turns to follow the stream towards the hills in the distance. The watcher stands before him in the distance, again Feving thinks he is seeing ghosts of the fallen, he walks up stream towards the ever-growing sight of the hills.
The watcher is standing on a cliff edge above the trail Feving is following; silently it begins to close in on Feving, Feving stops and turns. Before him stands the ghostly figure, Fevings eyes grow wide as he tries to speak, the words came My lord Odin, was I to die on the battle field.. The ghostly figures body begins to spark and crackle with electricity; Feving looks on amazed but corpses himself, clenching his battle-axe with both hands. What now stands before Feving is The Predator, an enemy unseen to any battlefield on this planet. The Predator raises his arms from its side, clenching its fists two foot long razor sharp blades appear from each gauntlet, Fevings grip on his battle axe tightens, Aye Demon, so this is how I enter Valhallas halls? Feving readied himself as the Predator approached
