Tales of the Myth Hunter

So he sat, his eyes fixed on the dank, murky waters in front of him.

As the water lapped against the shore lines at his feet, his mind began to sink into the foggy lake. His eyes growing more and more dim, though the sunlight pierced the dense clouds.

He could see them, the faces of the lost. Their eyes peering up at him through the seemingly bottomless lake depths.

"You knew they were here, eh?", a voice echoed in the distance.

"Of course." he said aloud.

"Then why are you still here on the shore?"

"We both know the answer to that question, don't we?"

"Aye, I suppose we do.", the man grunted as he knelt down at his side.

"Tell me, Merrick, tell me why they're here.", the young man asked.

Merrick sighed, his eyes locked to the same lake.

Merrick was a middle aged man that lived in the nearby village. Most would go to him to handle beasts and critters that pestered their local crops or homes. He was a gruff, muscular man known to be the woodsman. His hair was short and dark, his face covered in a long beard and mustache. Though most in the village were small, he stood out due to his height and size.

He was also known to be a paranoid man by many of the locals. He would spend most of his time in the woods near the lake, stating he was protecting everyone from the lake itself, though outside of a few disappearances over the years, the village was mostly peaceful and quiet.

"Do you know what a Grindylow is, boy?", he whispered.

"Old wives tales, of course. Scaly little creatures that drag children to the depths of whatever local lake or river their parents didn't want them mucking about in. Nothing more then an old superstition.", the young man scoffed scoffed.

"An old tale, yes, but superstition? No.", Merrick raised to his feet.

He stepped closer to the shore past the young man sitting on the lake bed. The waves slapped the shore, gently pulling dirt to and from the shoreline. Winds began rustling the nearby trees, causing ripples across the water.

"Grindylow's aren't as small as the stories tell. Nor do they prey on children alone. They're large, lumbering creatures, yet quiet for their size. Their scales as strong and coarse as a crocodile. Their forearms, long and muscular. Their hands large, with razor sharp claws to grip and tear. Their eyes are sharp and precise with a golden hue. Their mouths long, with powerful jaws. Tails, long and powerful. Able to swipe men off their feet, but their legs..." he paused, "Their legs are what make them so dangerous. They have incredible leg strength allowing them to jump like a frog and run fast as a horse."

There was a moment of silence. The young man sat silently, fear gripping his throat as he sat on the lake bed. The leaves rustled as the gusts of wind tore through the trees.

"That is why you're here.", Merrick said.

He turned his head to the young man, staring at him intensely.

"You know how true the tales of old are", he stated.

The young man sat quietly, his eyes still fixed on the murky lake. The hair on the back of his neck rose as the water seemingly began to ripple and roar.

"You're the hunter they whisper about, though you don't choose to be. A young man known to slay creatures once thought to be nothing but myth and legend.", Merrick praised.

He laughed heartily as he crossed his arms.

"That's why you're here and not in those waters, myth hunter," Merrick scoffed, "Because you know they're real and you've been able to sense them ever since you stepped foot into my little village."

The boy sighed, his brow furrowed and frustrated.

The waves began to crash against the shoreline as the water gurgled and churned. The faces the young man could see faded to faint golden orbs glowing in the water.

Merrick pulled his logging axe from his side, gripping it tightly with both hands.

"I'm going to ask you to leave now." the young man spoke, cold and harsh.

He slowly rose to his feet, his eyes bright and determined.

"You'll have a better chance if there's two of us.", Merrick challenged.

Sand fell off the scabbard of the hidden long sword strapped to the young mans lower back. He slowly reached for the hilt and unsheathed the blade. Sunlight bounced off the sword, reflections dancing among the trees.

"Now that I think about it, I've never seen them come out in broad daylight before.", Merrick shuddered, "And the beasts were ugly enough in the dark."

The young man stepped cautiously towards the shoreline and planted his feet, holding his blade with both hands.

"Here they come.", the young man warned.

A host of grindylow burst from the water, creating a large wake behind them.

Merrick stumbled a moment and clenched his jaw while the young man stood stern and focused.

The creatures roared as they raced through the water at them.

"Nine.", the young man whispered.

Two leapt from the water, their claws aimed down at the young man.

He slid is body sideways, thrusting his sword upward, slicing through both arms of one, sending it to the ground. The other's claws dragged along the blade as it drifted past him and skid across the sand.

A third launched itself at Merrick, it's jaws opened wide. He quickly raised his axe and grunted as the teeth sunk into the handle, pushing him back through the sand. He quickly pulled out a skinning knife and sunk it into the side of the creatures head, throwing it to the ground.

The young man dashed towards the second grindylow that launched itself at him, his feet kicking sand behind him. The creature howled as it launched itself directly at him. He dropped his body, sliding beneath the creature, thrusting the sword into it and opening the creature up as it crashed along the shore and into the water behind him.

Two more burst from the shoreline and charged the young man.

Merrick quickly took out the skinning knife from the killed monster and hurled it at one of the charging creatures.

As the knife took down the one, the young man quickly deflected the claws of the other. He spun his body, pushing himself behind the grindylow. His sword cleaved it in two.

The sixth dove back under the water and rushed towards Merrick. It's movements were swift and hidden by the already turbulent waters of the lake.

As the other three burst from the water and charged the young man, Merrick turned to help him.

The last burst from it's stealthy swim and lunged it's claws into Merrick's side, throwing him to the ground.

The other three pushed the young man back into the nearby woods. He quickly dodged and deflected each swing of their claws. The creatures used the trees to pounce off of, throwing themselves at him with incredible speed.

As two closed in on him, he deflected the claws of one, slashing down on the second. The third lunged past him, using it's tail to knock him to the ground. He gasped as the force of the impact knocked the wind out of him. The creatures snarled as they continued their onslaught.

The young man twisted and rolled his body, narrowly dodging each swipe and stab. He coughed and choked as he tried to catch his breath. Any attempt to raise his sword was knocked away by a strike of their claws.

The young man clenched his teeth and threw his body aside, barely rolling to his feet.

His breathing was heavy.

The two remaining grindylow growled as they watched his movements. Their tails flicking and swaying.

The young man gripped his sword tightly, his feet firmly planted on the ground.

The two beasts howled as they charged at him.

As he raised his sword, suddenly a thunderous roar burst from the woods and Merrick leapt out of the brush, his shoulder cocked and ramming into one of the grindylows knocking it to the ground.

The young man snarled as he dashed forward at the other. It lunged it's claws at him as it howled.

His body shifted to the side, narrowly missing the claw. With his sword raised, he swung down removing it's head in one stroke.

He remained still for a moment, hunched over as the creature collapsed to the ground. His breathing was ragged and deep. Sweat streaked his mud and dirt riddled face. His sword stabbed into the ground to keep him upright.

A deep breath filled his lungs as he stood up straight.

He glanced over to Merrick.

Merrick winced as he held his side the grindylow pierced. His back propped up to the dead one he knocked away and killed.

The young man stretched out his shirt and wiped the blood of the creatures off his blade.

"Will you live?", the young man asked.

His eyes went back to their cold distant stare as he cleaned the blade.

"Aye, I think so", Merrick groaned, "Bastard got mostly meat."

The young man slowly slid his sword back into the scabbard. He turned and headed into the woods.

"Wait!", Merrick shouted as he struggled to his feet.

The young man paused, his back still facing the damaged woodsman.

"What's your name, boy?", Merrick asked.

The young man looked to the sky. The clouds rolled across the deep blue sky. The winds still swept through the trees, coolly kissing his skin.

"I'm no one", he answered.

The young man looked straight and into the brush. The faint sound of howls and cries echoing in the trees. He took a step into the brush and vanished into the woods.

Merrick gasped as he clenched his bleeding side. He made his way through the woods, using trees to prop himself up to rest. As he reached the village, he collapsed on the main road.

A local man helped him to his feet and to the local healer to mend his wounds. As he lay on the mend, he told the locals of the creatures they fought. The monsters that hid in their lake. The young man that appeared to rid the village of them.

The villagers cleared the bed of that foggy lake of the creatures. Their claws and teeth and skin taken and used to make trophies to place in their hall. A new song of the stranger and the foggy lake took root in that town.

And without even giving a name, the legend of the Myth Hunter grew evermore as his travels continued.

So there the young man stood

With his back against the wood

And his stare piercing deep beneath the waters

Then foul monsters came

Their claws and fangs to blame

For the missing folk and loved ones pulled for slaughters

He drew his mighty sword

For no fame and no reward

He hacked away the hungry, scaly squatters

Back to the woods he fled

No heading to his stead

The Myth Hunter protecting sons and daughters