Behavior Report 27

Dearest Love,

Something was watching us when we filled our canteens in the river. Something tall and broad. Earl caught sight of it first and pointed toward a cave cut into the quarry walls. Darkness reigned within it but an outline of some being was clearly drawn.

Earl started to move but I grabbed him and said, “Don’t move. No sudden movements. I don’t think it’s seen us.”

“Wha … wha … is it?”

“I don’t know but stay calm and stay low. Let’s back up, slowly and get behind one of those stone houses.”

Earl breathed heavily as I screwed the cap back onto my canteen. Each twist along the threads felt like an eternity of the loudest possible sound of metal scraping on metal. We stepped back slowly, foot by foot, staying hunched over and staring at the cave entrance.

Suddenly, a rock flew out of the cave at tremendous speed and landed in the river just short of our location. Water exploded into a spray that blocked our view of the being. Another stone hit closer before we could react, followed by another, and another.

“Run!” I yelled.

But before we could do anything, one of the stones hit directly in front of us, breaking into smaller pieces. Shards grazed my arm. I heard a “Thwunk,” and Earl was gone from my side. Several more stones came crashing and splashing all around me, but I paid no mind, I needed to help Earl.

My Love, be careful if you’re reading this to Junior.

Earl was hit directly by one of the stone shards. The right side of his chest was flattened. His right arm and leg were broken and twisted in several places.

Instinct took hold.

I ran to my friend, grabbed his good arm, and dragged him into the river amidst stones exploding all around. Earl’s eyes were shut. He didn’t appear to be breathing.

“Get him into the river!” Lieutenant Talbott’s voice yelled from somewhere in my head. “That’s his only chance!”

Water splashed about my thighs as I pulled Earl further into the center of the river. His body sank. I grabbed his Schmeisser and held onto Earl with one hand while pointing the machine gun toward the shadowy being with the other.

The stones stopped flying.

The Schmeisser’s iron sight stared into the cave’s darkness. I didn’t fire. I didn’t know where to aim because all the shadows in the cave blended into one massively large fear-inducing blog of darkness.

Unexpectedly, a baritone voice rolled out from the darkness like a freight train rumbling through a tunnel. My Love, please forgive my translation.

The voice said, “Were bist doo?”

I didn’t understand and replied by yelling, “Leave us alone.”

“Oh. Amerikaner oder Briten?”

This I understood and hoped that somehow it would be our saving grace.

“Amerikaners.”

“Ick has sah Amerikaner” 

Footfalls resonated a haunting cadence through the cavern’s depths until the monster emerged from the cave’s shadowy protection. He stood a staggering ten feet and was about as half as wide. His appearance mimicked the fading crescent moon, a complexion ethereal yet rugged. Sunbeams danced upon his ashen hide, illuminating sinew and brawn in a play of light and shadow. A shirtless torso showcased the symphony of muscles and pulsating veins beneath his parchment skin. Gauntlets encased in shards of honed steel wrapped about his hands and forearms, appearing all too eager to rend and tear.

Bloodied chains of various lengths hung from a broad, worn leather belt. Shackles meant for smaller, more normal sized wrists jingled at the end of some of the chains. Spears and hooks and spiked balls hung from the rest. And if the gauntlets and chains were not enough, the giant walked in boots shielded by armor and more sharp steel shards. Each step he took sounded like a bag of broken glass being dropped from a second story window.

“Bear ite dich darauf vor zu sterben!” The giant said.

“Just leave us alone!”

The giant slid on an iron helmet fashioned in the likeness of a skull, with eyeholes resembling the hollow sockets of mortality. Gleaming teeth, carved like sharpened pearls, etched a horrific smile of terror upon the helm’s facade.

“Go away!”

The giant then unsheathed a mace from a scabbard slung over his broad frame and initiated a pendular motion, akin to a farmer reaping wheat with a scythe’s graceful arcs.

I swore and aligned the sights of the Schmeisser onto the giant’s heart. My finger found the trigger’s embrace and pulled.

Nothing happened.

“It’s not loaded!” The words left my mouth via a hopeless whisper. “There’s no time to load the magazine.”

I tossed the Schmeisser aside.

The giant continued walking toward me, slowly.

I thought about using my rifle, but eight bullets didn’t seem enough to take a giant down. Instead, I unsheathed my sword. Hope. Not courage. Not instinct. Nothing but hope clung onto the sharp edge of my sword that was a mere toothpick to the giant’s mace.

Between nervous breaths, I said, “Frank Kaplan, the monster slayer,” to build up my confidence. I repeated the sentence over and over.

I began to calculate how I could strike. ‘Go for the mace first. Hopefully, the sword will slice through just as it did with the rocks in the cave. Then swing back at his hand. Cut off a few fingers. The distraction and pain should be enough to open him up for a final strike in the center of his chest.’ Swing left. Then right. Then push forward with all my might.

Within ten paces the giant raised the mace above his head to bring forth a downward strike instead of continuing his reaping. My entire plan was ruined.

Suddenly, Surplis appeared next to me and said, “Dodge his strike by jumping at the last moment. Okay? He’s going to hit the ground and that’s going to leave himself open before he can recover. All you gotta do is swing your sword upward like you want to hit the biggest homerun of your life.”

The giant came within two paces and reached further back to build up strength for his strike.

“Hold!” Surplis yelled.

Then, the giant made his move.

“Now!”

Just as the mace flew down, I leapt to my right and immediately lost my footing from the concussion of his weapon hitting the ground. I quickly gathered myself into an attacking position but before I could turn my body to strike, the giant swung his hand and slapped me. His palm was as wide as I was tall, which meant his open-handed slap felt like crashing into a concrete wall. No description could aptly illustrate the pain I felt. Frank Kaplan, the monster slayer, was more like Frank Kaplan, slayed by monster.

My body flew and fell upon the quarry ground like a trash bag of old chicken bones. My legs broke the fall first followed by my face. Searing hot pain flowed like lava over my legs, wrapping around the muscles and eventually melting through to my bones. Were it not for the safety of my helmet, I was certain that my skull would have been severely dented. Instead, my nose felt as if it was missing. I didn’t dare reach to examine any of the painful extremities.

All the clarity leading up to the battle was lost amidst the ringing inside my head. Surplis disappeared. Earl felt like a memory. I lost the grip of my sword somewhere during my flight. I was no better than a dead battery. And in that moment where pain and shame held me down, I heard the most humiliating sound a man can hear.

The giant laughed.

Not a little chuckle, but a deep belly laugh that rolled along like a fog. Between the heartier laughs, he said and repeated, “Steh auf!”

I was in no state to roll over. I couldn’t. The pain was too much. My face rubbed against the ground as I tried to steal glances toward the giant and where I left Earl. The giant’s footsteps scrunched on the stone and grew louder and louder as he came closer.

“Steh auf!”

Instead of picking up his mace, he allowed it to drag against the stone, creating a tooth-grinding squeal that chittered through my unbroken bones.

“Steh auf!”

I could hear the river nearby. Voices inside said, “Crawl. Move toward the water,” but my body ached in disagreement.

“Steh auf!”

My view from my crumpled position suddenly became dark from the giant’s shadow. I tried to turn my head, but the physical pain was too much. I also didn’t want to witness my final moment on the Earth.

“Jetz worst du sterben!”

I heard the mace make a final scrape against the stone and then continue to sing as the giant raised it over his head. Pain shot up from my legs.

‘Frank Kaplan, the monster slayer.’

I couldn’t breathe.

‘Frank Kaplan, slayed by monster.’

I closed my eyes and waited for the final blow. My heart thumped softer and softer. Time slowed to an absolute crawl. I knew that if the mace didn’t finish me, my injuries would. I waited for my death.

Then, before the mace came crashing down and with the last remaining vestiges of my life, I heard the unmistakable ring of my sword as if it were pulled from the ground.

“You leave my friend ALONE!” Earl yelled.

My Love, I know you won’t believe this, but I could hear the sword’s blade cut through the air. I don’t know how that’s possible. But the very fabric of all that surrounds us was sliced. And before I could grasp what was happening, another sound, like a knife cutting through a ripe watermelon occurred. There was a snap and a tearing of flesh, followed by a gasp of air.

The mace clanged to the ground.

Sunlight bore directly upon me as the shadow fell in two different directions.

The next thing I remember is jolting awake underwater. Cool currents flowed over me. I felt no fear. I didn’t need to breathe. Miniature sparks tickled my limbs as if hummingbirds were hovering over me and repairing my broken bones. Were it not for the memory of Earl’s story, I would have panicked, but I stayed under the surface until I felt ready. How does one feel ready while submerged under a magical river? Surprisingly, one just knows.

I sat up and found that the river was not deep. I could comfortably sit with the water flowing about the middle of my chest. There was no need to gasp for air. There was no need to wipe the water from my eyes. My baptism was the most liberating sensation I had ever felt. All the aches and pains were gone. I was washed anew and ready to move ahead with my purpose.

“Feeling better?” Earl said from the shoreline.

“How long …”

“Just a moment or two.”

“The giant?”

“Dead.”

“How are you?”

Earl laughed and said, “Never been better.”

I stood up and found that my clothes were not wet. My hair was as dry as if I were stuck in the middle of the desert.

“Weird, isn’t it?” Earl said. “I still remember the first time that it happened to me. You’re never going to feel better than you are right now. You’ll never feel stronger.”

“What happened?”

“I saw the giant hit you and then … I don’t remember. There was a crash, and you were collapsed on the ground and I … I … just lost control. The next thing I remember was your sword in my hand and rushing toward the giant.

“You were maybe three feet away from the river … you weren’t going to get to the water, and I knew … I just knew that you were going to die if I didn’t do anything.

“When the giant was just about to hit you with his mace, I ran and swung the sword as hard as I could.”

“You got him good.”

Earl laughed. “Maybe a little too good. Guess I don’t know my own strength.” He pointed to two lumps on the ground, separated by blood.

 “Thank you,” I said and then hugged him.

“We stick together.”

“And keep our heads—”

“We’ll do our best,” Earl interrupted. “I’m not sure we need to keep that second part anymore. We’re in a territory that no one could anticipate.”

“We stick together then.”

Earl slid my sword into the sheath on my back.

I smiled and said, “You’re going to need to reload your Schmeisser.”

We gathered whatever we left behind in our battle and began to walk toward the cave. Darkness prevailed, but we wanted to see if there was anything hidden inside that could fulfill one of the many promises.

Before we could get too close, something moved within the shadows, and we stopped. The figure was small. Then several other figures appeared against the darkness. Earl quickly dipped into the pouch of ammunition and frantically began to load the magazine. I pulled my rifle and directed the iron sight to the first figure. More and more figures appeared until there was at least a dozen. The shapes formed into sharper images in the shadows that eventually stepped into the sunlight.

“Oh my god,” I said. “They are people.”