The Original Prologue
The many chairs and tables stood neatly. Their surfaces shined and placemats sat before each chair. Everything was ready for the next day’s customers. There was a slight whir of an air-conditioning fan, left on by a forgetful employee. All was calm and quiet until someone smashed through the glass front and came crashing down on to one of the tables and rolled to the end. Freya heaved herself on to all fours wondering whether the fall would have been broken a bit more if the table had snapped beneath her.
A huge lumbering beast smashed more glass from the frame as it moved itself through, barely fitting. It was some hideous cross between a gorilla and a troll, perhaps with some bulldog mixed in. It stood on two bowed legs and one arm almost reached to its knee, the other ended in something vaguely fist shaped which almost reached the floor. The mass at the end of its arm had no discernable fingers and was several times larger than the hand on its other arm. Its head was the size of a beach ball and had a small patch of hair at the top. Two fangs stuck up from under large lips that hung down at the sides.
Freya turned her head to look at it but, her lengthy hair got in the way. With grace she hopped down to the ground. She rubbed her hair at the top of her head roughly to get rid of any glass. She looked at her hand not sure if the red marks were blood or red hair dye, she had only had it done that morning. She picked a piece of glass from her palm deciding it was most likely a mix of both. Freya studied the beast and her new surroundings. Between them stood several tables, she had been thrown far. The table she had landed on was one of the longer ones the reason she hadn’t fallen off. Behind the beast, back outside was her sword. Damn.
The beast put one foot forward to stand at an angle then it swung its deformed fist in a wide arc bringing it down to the ground with force. Though the hit was strong Freya wasn’t anywhere near it. But physical contact wasn’t the aim. From the place where the fist hit purple magic moved in a line towards Freya. It appeared as strangely coloured flames, as if the hit had set fire to a line of gunpowder. As it moved across the ground it flung chairs and tables out of the way. Freya dived to one side landing on her stomach and rolled over to face upwards. She drew an invisible cross with her hand in the air creating a magical shield as a broken table flew at her. The table bounced off the shield leaving Freya intact. The magic flames continued until they hit the back wall that cracked under the impact.
Still on the floor Freya dropped her hands to end the shield spell. In her new position she peeked through the furniture legs to see the creature snort and sniff loudly. It took two heavy footsteps forward and sniffed again as if searching for her scent. Freya shifted in to a crouching position and began to move silently towards the beast, plan in mind. She didn’t stop to watch him, trying to be quick but the sniffs and sounds of movement were enough to know where he was.
She had stopped close to him, pausing when he began smashing everything nearby. He had obviously caught on that she must be underneath one of the tables. Freya looked outside to her sword. She pointed at it and the sword lifted off the ground without a noise, she then opened up her hand as if reaching for it and it began floating towards her in a smooth motion.
The beast still stood nearer to the front of the restaurant. Freya looked away from the sword to keep an eye on him. This loss of concentration was a mistake. The tip of the sword lightly tapped a chair leg as it moved. The small noise was enough to make the beast move his attention to what was behind him.
Freya’s mind worked quickly and made the decision. The sword now whipped in to her hand, too quick for the beast to follow. She moved with speed towards him and as he still looked behind she pierced the sword through its belly at an angle, driving it upwards. Blood poured down her front. Mixed with the smell of the beast’s odour it stank horribly. Red ribbons of smoke extended from the hilt of the sword, floating up and around the beast like a bird’s claw about to grab its prey. The ribbons wrapped around the beast tightly. Cracks appeared on its skin as if it was the earth being attacked by an earthquake. Then it crumbled and Freya stood before a pile of dust and dried blood. The grains of dust and blood rose up to the air forming a shape familiar to Freya. It moved in to zig-zag shape like lightning then seemed to pour in to nowhere until it was all gone.
Freya removed a used bit of tissue from inside her jacket and wiped the sword clean. She had meant to replace the cloth she used to use, tissue tended to tear and leave bits of itself behind. She looked about the room. It lay in ruins, shattered furniture, scattered and broken crockery from the table tops. A cracked line of fake wood floor tiles smoked and glass was everywhere. Freya replaced the sword in to the sheath at her back, hidden in a hockey stick bag. She sighed and crunched across broken glass to leave for the outside.
A huge lumbering beast smashed more glass from the frame as it moved itself through, barely fitting. It was some hideous cross between a gorilla and a troll, perhaps with some bulldog mixed in. It stood on two bowed legs and one arm almost reached to its knee, the other ended in something vaguely fist shaped which almost reached the floor. The mass at the end of its arm had no discernable fingers and was several times larger than the hand on its other arm. Its head was the size of a beach ball and had a small patch of hair at the top. Two fangs stuck up from under large lips that hung down at the sides.
Freya turned her head to look at it but, her lengthy hair got in the way. With grace she hopped down to the ground. She rubbed her hair at the top of her head roughly to get rid of any glass. She looked at her hand not sure if the red marks were blood or red hair dye, she had only had it done that morning. She picked a piece of glass from her palm deciding it was most likely a mix of both. Freya studied the beast and her new surroundings. Between them stood several tables, she had been thrown far. The table she had landed on was one of the longer ones the reason she hadn’t fallen off. Behind the beast, back outside was her sword. Damn.
The beast put one foot forward to stand at an angle then it swung its deformed fist in a wide arc bringing it down to the ground with force. Though the hit was strong Freya wasn’t anywhere near it. But physical contact wasn’t the aim. From the place where the fist hit purple magic moved in a line towards Freya. It appeared as strangely coloured flames, as if the hit had set fire to a line of gunpowder. As it moved across the ground it flung chairs and tables out of the way. Freya dived to one side landing on her stomach and rolled over to face upwards. She drew an invisible cross with her hand in the air creating a magical shield as a broken table flew at her. The table bounced off the shield leaving Freya intact. The magic flames continued until they hit the back wall that cracked under the impact.
Still on the floor Freya dropped her hands to end the shield spell. In her new position she peeked through the furniture legs to see the creature snort and sniff loudly. It took two heavy footsteps forward and sniffed again as if searching for her scent. Freya shifted in to a crouching position and began to move silently towards the beast, plan in mind. She didn’t stop to watch him, trying to be quick but the sniffs and sounds of movement were enough to know where he was.
She had stopped close to him, pausing when he began smashing everything nearby. He had obviously caught on that she must be underneath one of the tables. Freya looked outside to her sword. She pointed at it and the sword lifted off the ground without a noise, she then opened up her hand as if reaching for it and it began floating towards her in a smooth motion.
The beast still stood nearer to the front of the restaurant. Freya looked away from the sword to keep an eye on him. This loss of concentration was a mistake. The tip of the sword lightly tapped a chair leg as it moved. The small noise was enough to make the beast move his attention to what was behind him.
Freya’s mind worked quickly and made the decision. The sword now whipped in to her hand, too quick for the beast to follow. She moved with speed towards him and as he still looked behind she pierced the sword through its belly at an angle, driving it upwards. Blood poured down her front. Mixed with the smell of the beast’s odour it stank horribly. Red ribbons of smoke extended from the hilt of the sword, floating up and around the beast like a bird’s claw about to grab its prey. The ribbons wrapped around the beast tightly. Cracks appeared on its skin as if it was the earth being attacked by an earthquake. Then it crumbled and Freya stood before a pile of dust and dried blood. The grains of dust and blood rose up to the air forming a shape familiar to Freya. It moved in to zig-zag shape like lightning then seemed to pour in to nowhere until it was all gone.
Freya removed a used bit of tissue from inside her jacket and wiped the sword clean. She had meant to replace the cloth she used to use, tissue tended to tear and leave bits of itself behind. She looked about the room. It lay in ruins, shattered furniture, scattered and broken crockery from the table tops. A cracked line of fake wood floor tiles smoked and glass was everywhere. Freya replaced the sword in to the sheath at her back, hidden in a hockey stick bag. She sighed and crunched across broken glass to leave for the outside.
