Small Realities

Inside the mind of Lance Schonberg

Thorvald’s Wyrd 082

Even blinded by pain and fear, the flailing giant might land a lucky blow.  Thorvald approached the creature with caution, giving the other, now attempting to struggle to its feet, a wide berth.  Slow steps brought him behind its head and he raised the steel axe.

His first blow bit deep into the giant’s throat, spraying a curtain of dark blood into the night and across Thorvald’s face to suck heat from his flesh.  The giant bellowed, trailing to a gurgle as Thorvald wiped the sticky blood from one bearded cheek.

It took three more swings to sever its neck.

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