And how long has it been since I last wrote a good story? Too long.
The following post is part of something that may go nowhere, like another story from a Crap Mariner weekly short story comp. Or it could go somewhere.
The Great Lord of The Worlds leapt from the cliff, his previously shining golden yellow armor tainted a dark ochre with the blood of a horde that had proven he was far from immortal, his hand clutching the dagger the witch had supplied him with.
Wielding it had come at great cost - the metal, which glowed eerily in the darkness and even through the coat of ichor from many victims, sapped his strength as long as it was within his reach. Many a night, he had examined it closely by the firelight, his fingers and eyes tracing their way along its myriad curves, an artifact alien to the forces of Goodness that he served, and yet he was leery to cast it aside, for had the Prophecies not foretold that only such a blade could wound the Beast of The Eurides?
The Beast of The Eurides hadn't noticed his falling approach... He smiled as he fell downwards, letting out a cry of victory. The Beast blinked and stopped munching on a fallen comrade in her toothy jaws, then glanced back with its feral yellowed eyes.
The dagger found its mark, wedging itself between The Beast's shoulder blades. She roared half in pain, and half in surprise as the lush blue fur that had turned even the sharpest blade aside like feathers time and again suddenly failed to provide protection when she needed it most. This ambush was far different from all the previous ones... it hurt. It hurt very badly. The Beast of the Eurides shook herself angrily on all four paws, trying to dislodge the irritant that had taken root on her back.
And The Great Lord Of The Worlds fell away. The dagger had taken its toll on him all these weeks, and the weakness was showing. He coughed into his hand, examined the dark redness in his palm. Blood. He had seen plenty of it ever since this war started, but he hadn't seen his own in a long time.
He stood up and frowned, eyeing the Beast as she writhed on the ground, the dagger poisoning her very lifeblood even faster than it had poisoned his, short of breath. "Ha. Made you look, you wretched feline-"
And so a god died. Well, most of a god...
So much pain.
Need to get away from it.
It keeps getting further and further in.
Need to get away from -