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Double-Blind CH32
🕑 Added 2022-02-26 01:14:42 +0000 UTCA bolt shredded through the wolf’s coat, leaving a line of red across its shoulder. A graze. Not nearly good enough. If my crossbow’s enchantment was going to have any discernible effect, I needed to start landing hits center mass. Which would be easier if the creature wasn’t so god-damned fast.
Massive, quick, probably horrifically strong.
It charged straight at me. My crossbow whirred, my senses elevating to the point where time seemed to slow down, yet it was nearly enough. There could be no fumbling, as I had on the other floors. A single mistake would mean death, or grave injury, which—in a situation like this, was much the same.
I multitasked. A tendril of <Probability Spiral> aimed at the trunk of a dead tree that sat directly between us. I wasn’t confident in using any of my abilities on the wolf directly. Whatever the reason for the wolf’s resistance—elevated intelligence or something baked in—The psychic backlash from <Suggestion> was significant, and I wasn’t certain if probability spiral would react the same way. An ear-shattering crack rang out over the clearing, and a ring of wood around the tree visibly fractured. The damage occurred higher up than I expected, causing the section of the tree to fall more slowly, more in time with the charging wolf.
I loaded the bolt, taking aim. This needed to hurt. The wolf was clearly intelligent, but it was enraged, trying to end this as soon as possible. Unfortunately for me, if I didn’t find a way to divert its aggression, it probably would.
I kept the bead of the crossbow slightly above the wolf’s chest, exhaled slowly, and pulled the trigger.
Bullseye. The bolt sunk deep, and the monster let out a roar. It was still cognizant enough to jump backwards from the falling tree, but now there was an obstacle between us. I’d bought myself some space, but not much. I needed more. Somewhere high up with elevation. But there was nothing around us but trees and snow. And I didn’t trust myself to climb a tree while a bear-sized wolf was breathing down my neck.
Look at how the tree fell.
Because of how the trunk cracked higher, the tree had fallen at a right angle, forming something of a ramp. If I got up enough speed, I might be able to launch off it, hoisting myself in the branches of something nearby.
The wolf had recovered from the falling surprise and switched its aggression for a more methodical, predator-like stalk. If anything, it appeared to be giving me far too much caution, considering the size difference. The wolf sniffed at the tree as it circled.
It put together that the tree didn’t just fall on its own.
It was equal-parts problem and benefit. If the wolf was familiar with magic, it would likely give me a much wider berth. Unfortunately, it would probably realize something was off when I didn’t eventually start hurling fireballs around. Doubly problematic if it was smart enough to understand what my power actually did.
We circled the fallen tree, counterclockwise. All-the-while, I studied the wood dubiously, trying to guesstimate whether it would stay in place, and whether I was confident enough in my agility to actually make this happen.
The beast broke darted right in a thundering sprint just as I reached the fallen end of the tree.
No choice. Go.
I cast probability spiral on the tree again, this time with the firm mental image of it staying in place, then I grit my teeth and stepped onto the log, hands held out on either side as I initially balanced. My boots gripped easily, and I found that the movement was more straightforward than expected. I lowered my arms slightly and began to sprint up the dead tree. It creaked but held my weight.
The wolf wasn’t having any of it. It collided with the tree, massive jaw open, plunging towards my ankles. I leapt over it and nearly lost my balance.
Not enough momentum.
Despite <Born Nihilist’s> warning, I kept moving, trying to regain speed. I was quickly running out of log, and the low-hanging branches that had appeared to be an easy jump seemed dangerously far. I crouched down low and leapt with everything I had, hands outstretched.
I latched onto the branch with both hands. And it felt my stomach flip as it started to crack under my weight. I looked down to check for clearance and wished I hadn’t. The winter wolf pacing beneath me, waiting. It panted, a string of saliva dripping down its mouth.
Just as the branch fell away, a vine shot out of my sleeve, wrapping around the tree itself. Sharp pricks of pain radiated around my chest as I swung along the trunk of the tree, reaching for anything that could give me traction until I found a foothold, propelling myself into the crook.
I heard a snarl beneath me and looked down. The wolf was displeased, having its dinner snatched away at the last moment. I had an almost irresistible urge to give it the finger.
Then it bent down low and leapt. A flash of <Awareness I> was the only thing that saved me. I shifted backwards. Its jaws pulverized the branch I had just been leaning on, shattering it into oblivion.
A single bite would end me.
Unbalanced but angry, now, I shot three more times, focused on peppering the beast, hoping to build up the cold drain. My first shot missed, threading the needle between its legs into the snow. My second and third shots landed, one in its shoulder, the other nestling in the skin of its neck.
Its coat was dyed a deepening tint of red in three patches now. I was doing damage, but not nearly fast enough.
The wolf darted back, circling back only once it was back nearly where it had started, over its fallen brood, visibly growling. I loaded another bolt cast probability spiral on it, aimed high, and fired, hoping to catch it with an arcing shot.
Only the wolf was watching. I saw it visually track the bolt, stepping aside.
Is she… getting a feel for my range?
That was absurdly intelligent behavior for an animal. Which led to the further realization. She didn’t just have an understanding of my range, but my rate of fire as well. As soon as I fired the shot, she sprinted towards me, picking up speed and jumping astride the log. It cracked under her weight instantly, but she kept going.
“Lash the branch under my feet and hold on!” I yelled at Audrey, sending her a picture with <Suggestion>
I fired another two bolts, struggling with the crescendoing panic that roiled beneath my title. All I could think about was the amount of damage this thing could do if it caught me. There had to be something more I could do, something I was missing.
Even with my emulated combat skill, using the dagger was an absolute last ditch measure.
<Probability Spiral> wouldn’t go off in time.
<Suggestion> was almost more dangerous to me than it was to the wolf.
If I gave the crossbow bolts enough time, it was possible the effect would add up, but time was something I was quickly running out of.
For just a moment, as I was reloading the crossbow, my gaze flicked to her frozen pups. They were still in a cuddled heap, unmoving. Everything she’d done up to this point had been brutally efficient, but tracking back to her pups had been unnecessary. It spoke to something else beyond her intelligence.
Regret?
But my time to strategize was coming to an end. The tree broke with a crashing explosion of wood. The wolf leapt off it, and, using the stump as a stepping stone, propelled itself directly towards me.
An unnatural calm settled over me. This was probably my last chance at this clear of a shot.
I aimed the bead of the crossbow, calculating trajectory. Then fired.
The bolt landed at an angle, destroying the wolf’s right eye. A headshot. But not enough to kill.
Its body was still angled and taut, diving straight towards me.
I threw myself backward, relying on Audrey’s vine and makeshift harness to catch me. It was a smart wolf, but still a wolf. It wouldn’t be changing trajectories in midair.
Which was, coincidentally, my last thought before iron jaws clamped down on my shoulder.
Comments
Well, ya gotta feel bad for whatever killed her pups.
fbt
little did he know, it was a thrust-vectoring VTOL-capable wolf...should brought some SAMs.
Monus
Thank you!
Scott Frederiksen
Whoopsies! Good thing he bought some potions!
