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Kjell of Vittra: Neverberg Nights

A Guildhall posting bounty for an unheard of creature. The pay is nothing, but Kjell can't stand to see another child snatched from the streets. The job is his, and so is the creature.*Kjell- Norse name pronounced Schell.

By Eric B. HunterPublished about a year ago 14 min read
3

The streets of Neverberg were silent as the city held its breath. Waiting for another kill. Kjell walked alone through the muddy goat paths that intersected the city. Still, no sign of the creature.

The guildhall posting was vague. People reported missing and never recovered. Not even a corpse. The job had only mentioned a small bounty, but it was of special interest to Kjell that the monster died.

No more little girls missing in the night.

So he prowled the streets after sunset. Long after the bravest citizens were safe behind shuttered windows and bolted doors. Searching for the creature without a name.

It wasn’t until the night of the blood moon that he caught the creature's trail.

The air was crisp and mists swirled around Kjell’s ankles as he kept a steady pace, walking his plotted grid. He heard a scream that cut short and bolted, sprinting towards the sound of peril in the darkness. His boots sent pools of water spraying with each crashing step.

He was familiar with the side streets of Neverberg like they were his own home. So many nights watching. Waiting. Moving like vengeance through the night, he wound his way to the spot where the cry had come from.

Skidding to a halt, he unhooked his greatsword from his back and dropped his hood. The cool night air prickled along his neck as he surveyed the small courtyard. He took a knee, brushing away the mists that clung to the ground. The district clock struck twice, sending shocks into the night and shivers down Kjell’s spine.

Drops of blood lay on the ground like morning dew. Still round. Still fresh.

A clink came from behind followed by the skittering of a clay tile falling from a roof. Kjell swung around to see a lanky shadow leap to the next roof and out of sight. A limp form was tucked under one arm like a sack of flour. The creature.

Kjell gave chase.

The creature cleared the space between buildings with ease. Each landing, it scrambled to keep its footing while Kjell kept a blistering pace on the ground below.

A shadow cut across the moonlight. Kjell felt the scars on his hand tighten with the anticipation of the kill. He skidded around a corner and down another alley. He didn't look up now, he knew where it was, could sense its magic and where it would be. He was on its scent like a hound. No escape for you now.

He stopped and listened, slowing his breathing to hear the night. He pulled a knife from his belt and cocked his arm back. A breeze ruffled his hair as he waited in the silence.

Clink, clink, clink, from above.

The creature shot the gap and Kjell threw. His aim was true and the knife sunk hilt-deep into the creature's side with a thunk then a screech.

It landed on the other roof and abandoned its quarry to grip the smooth tiles. It failed, skittering backward and falling to the earth with a scream as tiles crashed down around it. Its prey remained on the roof, a motionless silhouette jutting out against the light of the full red moon. Kjell hoped whoever it was would live, but he had more immediate problems to worry about.

He squared himself as the beast uncurled its long arms. Leathery black skin stretched from its elbows to its hips. Fine charcoal fur covered the rest of its repugnant body. Little of its human features remained. Two slits for a nose, razor teeth and crimson eyes replaced any humanity it had. He only had a moment before it launched itself at him. It glided on half wings, its elongated fingers stretched towards his throat.

Kjell never flinched. The magic in the creature thrummed in the air, leaving wisps of black light surrounding its aura. Whatever this was, if it had been out in the city before, it had escaped his senses. Few monsters could do that. He zeroed in on where the aura glowed darkest, the creature's heart, and knew it was vulnerable. He sidestepped the lunge and swung his sword up as it passed. The massive blade tore through bone and sinew, removing its arm at the elbow.

It shrieked, forcing Kjell to cover his ears, leaving himself open. The beast saw its chance and kicked him with its long, lean legs, driving the air from his lungs. He flew back, crashing through a shop's shuttered windows. He landed in a pile of linens and thanked the Gods it wasn’t an armory. Rolling to the side, he bounced to his feet to avoid the follow up attack.

The creature tore through the splintered remains of the shutters. It clawed at him with its maimed right arm, unbalanced and desperate to end the man in the deep grey cloak.

He charged the beast, ramming his steel-plated shoulder into its face. It's head snapped back, throwing it further off balance. He let go of his greatsword, the blade too long and a liability in close quarters, and pulled twin dirks from his belt. The creature swiped at him, its claws coming down with razor fury. He caught the creature's hand with his right blade and drove the left into its heart.

The beast shuddered and let out a screech that rattled the floorboards. Kjell felt blood trickling from his ears and grit his teeth. He refused to let go of the dirk as the creature shifted on his blade back to its human form.

Kjell stood in the linen shop with an auburn-haired youth, the creature gone. His blade protruded from the youth's heart and his severed fingers lay on the floor. The shop owner came down from his room, a lantern swinging and casting long shadows on the walls. His wrinkled old face froze in terror at the sight of violence and he stumbled back up the stairs.

Kjell heard the man a moment later, slamming iron across his door and screaming from his window. "Guards! Murder! Murder!"

He dropped the boy and clutched the amulet at his chest. He gave a silent prayer, kissing the visage of the Gods that give him the power to stop evil. He wondered at the cost to his soul. If destroying darkness could balance the scales for him. At what point do I become more evil than what I hunt? Only a boy, damn the Gods.

Kjell retrieved his throwing knife from the boy's ribs, collected his sword and pulled up his hood. He jumped through the window, cutting out into the red moonlight and hurrying away from the scene. The old man had been squinting, so he was unlikely to identify him. He didn’t want to wait for a battalion of the city guard to arrive with all the racket the shopkeep was making. He was no use to anyone thrown in a cell and didn’t want to have that much time to think.

He made his way to the guild hall to collect his pay. The woman who posted the bounty had been there every night when he returned. Two months of waiting, and always with a desperate look in her eyes. Always clutching a red handkerchief and looking like she’d been crying. The boy's auburn hair and freckled face left no doubt who he was. How long has she known her son was killing innocents? He wondered what she hoped for each night. For him to return and tell her he found nothing but empty alleys, or for tonight, when he would tell her it was over.

He pushed the solid oak door. Cheers and groans from a dice game to the left met him. He walked past them, no one paying him any mind. No one noticed the flecks of blood that speckled the trim of his cloak or the dark shadows cast over his hooded face.

She sat in her usual space at the back, hidden from the normal traffic. She looked up from her hand ringing and her lips trembled. Kjell went to the counter and ordered two meads. He heard the woman try to stifle a sob. Did the hole in her heart get bigger when I shoved the dirk between her son's ribs?

He took the tankards and sat across from her, his back to the door, and set one in front of her.

“Drink,” he said.

“How did you fair tonight?” she asked.

“Drink,” was all he replied before lifting his own tankard to his lips. The tangy, sweet liquid warmed his belly as he gulped it down. He set the drink down and stared at the woman. Her eyes searched for a clue in his expression, but found no solace there. He remained silent until she took a drink, a sip, then said, “I found the creature.”

Her puffy red eyes widened and the corners of her mouth bent down. “And have you come to collect the bounty?”

Kjell felt he hadn't seen the woman until now. Her pallid skin and dark sunken eyes from no sleep. Sharp cheekbones from days of not being able to eat. He wondered how he hadn’t noticed before. She's haunted.

His throat tightened, the duality of his punishment, of his righteousness, striking home. The creature needed to die, he knew that in his heart. His vow to Lenore and her tiny broken frame ensured this monster's demise. But this was no monster for her, this was her son turned into wickedness. He nodded, unwilling to allow the doubt in himself to creep into words spoken. The choked back sobs let loose as guilt racked her. Guilt spurned forth from her decision to call on the grey cloaks. Intensified by the relief she no doubt felt knowing her son wouldn’t take any more lives.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Gelina.” Kjell murmured, but the aggrieved mother couldn’t hear over her wails. She was drawing attention, and it was time to go.

Kjell stood from the table and turned. The cluster of gamblers stared at him from under furrowed brows, their game forgotten. He raised a hand to assure them all would be well, and he hoped it would. Before he could lower his hand, the door creaked open and the owner of the linen shop shouted, “That’s him! That’s the murderer!”

Fuck.

He turned and ran past Gelina. Another welcome overstayed, he thought as he dove through the plate glass. Boots thundered in the tavern and no doubt he had destroyed his chance at redemption by fleeing. He had seen these situations play out before. What did a few more wanted posters matter if he kept his freedom?

He ran down the street, picking his way down the tangled alleyways and keeping in the shadows. The occasional shout came from behind, but he had gotten some distance from his pursuers.

Hope was blooming as he made it to the stables without incident. But hope is a fickle thing, and it wilted when the alarm bells sounded.

The stable hand’s eyes grew wide as he noticed the blood on Kjell’s cloak, and drew in breath, hoping to scream for help. Before he could let loose, Kjell drove his fist into the boy’s sternum. Knocking the air out of him as he crumpled. The boy fell into the mud and horse filth, gasping, but unhurt.

Kjell jumped into the saddle and spurred on his silver sorraia mare, driving into the night.

The moonlight cast shadows everywhere. He was moving faster, but the stomping of the horse was deafening in the silence. The pounding hooves would echo through the quiet streets for leagues.

With the streets empty, he could push his mount into a canter. They raced past shops and shuttered windows at breakneck speeds, both breathing hard. He pushed to the North, almost making it to the edge of the city and the mountains surrounding Neverberg. Almost.

A light flashed in the corner of his eye, and he managed to duck as a fireball the size of an apple went hurdling past his head. The fringe of his hood smoldered and he brought his horse to a skidding halt. He dove from the saddle and landed with a knife in hand.

Another ball of fire rocketed past where he would have been. Kjell threw his blade into the darkness of the alley from where the ambush had sprung. No more fire came, but there was no way to know if he’d found his target. Whoever lurked in the darkness sat still, making no sound.

The air in the alley began to shift, and Kjell saw the magic. Magic drawn from the air and into an orb caressed by long fingers in the dark. He unhooked the massive sword from his back and charged the alleyway, hoping this was a single mage. It would be his luck tonight to have a cabal waiting for him in the shadows.

The mage finished drawing the magic from the air. The swirling light turned into a ball of flames and were cast at his chest. Kjell held his sword in front of him. He caught the sphere with the flat of his blade and dispersed the fire around him. The runic enchantments etched into the blade working without fail to repel magic. The wall of fire surrounded him, the smell of his singed hair burning his nostrils, but he kept his momentum. He caught the mage off guard and slammed the pommel of his sword into the arch of his large nose. Crimson mist sprayed across his face and he knocked the gangly sorcerer into the muck. He curled into himself, whimpering as he clutched his broken nose.

A sharp whistle from Kjell brought his mare running. He mounted without her slowing, keeping his sword out and at the ready. He hoped the mage would be alright, he didn’t need any more trouble and hadn’t wanted to hurt the man.

The squat wood buildings turned into tall pines as he thundered out of the city. As the darkness of the canopy swallowed him, he slowed his mare to a walk. The guard had no jurisdiction outside the city limit. He doubted the people would lead a search party when they thought the creature still hunted them. He could breathe a bit easier now, and patted his mount on the neck. “Good girl, Daisy.” he said, and she nickered back to him.

“This isn’t what I signed up for, girl.” he said to her. “I wanted to rid the world of monsters, so no one would end up like Lenore…but someone turned that boy into that creature.” He took a deep breath, trying to quell the storm inside him. After several breaths, the clip clopping below him and Daisy’s gentle rhythm soothed him. He stowed his blade in the saddle scabbard and lifted his hood onto his head. “We need to find out who’s responsible.”

Clouds cut across the red moon as Kjell plodded deeper into the mountains. The death of the boy weighed heavy on his mind, but the city was too frenzied to search for the culprit. Who could have done such a thing? Who was the boy in contact with before the transformation?

He clicked his tongue and Daisy came to a halt. He turned in the saddle to look back down the dark path at the faint twinkling of lights in the sleeping city. Gelina would have answers

“Shit.”

He clicked his tongue and steered Daisy off the path to make camp. In the morning, he’d head back to Neverberg to find more answers. For now, he needed rest and to contemplate his next moves. The creature’s dead, but the real monster’s still out there. No more missing children.

Continued in:

‘Kjell of Vittra: No More Children’

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About the Creator

Eric B. Hunter

E.B. spends his nights crafting stories. He hopes to portray people as they are, flawed humans capable of great and terrible things.

See more and sign up for his newsletter at:

https://ebhunterauthor.wordpress.com/link-in-bio/

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Comments (2)

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  • Isa Ottoniabout a year ago

    I LOVE Kjell adventures! Perfect!

  • Aphoticabout a year ago

    The perfect cocktail of horror and fantasy! I’m glad there is more of the story to come. Absolutely loved it and can’t wait for the next part!

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