A hero/villain piece

The night is cold, the sky a black, star-spattered canvas. The remains of a crescent moon hang low, obscured by a line of skeletal trees; their branches dance in a breeze. 

The Hero shivers, drawing his cloak tighter around his shoulders. Though he’s surrounded by sleeping friends, his chest is tight with loneliness. The fire burns low, but as the party departs at dawn, there is little need to stoke it. They will be gone before the sun breaches the horizon. They should be on the trail now. The Monster that plagues the region doesn’t sleep, so why should they? The fact that any of them are able to sleep at all is a wonder to the Hero. Every one of them had seen what the Monster is capable of. It is why they’re here, in the middle of a frozen wilderness. Someone had to put a stop to the Monster’s rampage. Someone had to be worthy of the songs of old.

Sighing, the Hero looks at the faces of their companions, the weight of his decision suffocating him.

A barn owl screeches, the sound harsh and desolate in the dark forest. The Hero jumps, and one of his companions mumbles and rolls over. Under normal circumstances the sound would comfort him. It’s a sound of his home and childhood. But tonight it reminds him of the promise he made upon setting out on this venture. Tonight it fills him with dread.

A log shifts in the fire, casting a soft glow on his love’s face. Of all the company, he is going to miss them the most. 

A rustle comes from behind, a branch breaks. The Hero knows it’s time. Standing quietly so as not to disturb his companions, he walks into the darkness. 

The Monster is there, waiting for him. Four eyes glow yellow, its upper body and long, double-jointed arms covered in blood; claws and fangs shine like obsidian. 

“Little human comes to me,” the Monster rasps. Its eyes flick over the Hero’s body, searching for something. “Without claw or fang. Foolish little human.” The Monster takes a step forward, surprised when the Hero holds his ground. Too much is at stake for cowardice. 

“Aye, I come,” the Hero murmurs.

“A Monster wonders why.”

“To bargain.”

The Monster throws its head back and laughs, chitinous gurgling sound that sets the Hero’s knees shaking.

“Little human is foolish to think a Monster will bargain.” It sits back on its haunches. “But a Monster is curious. A Monster has never had little bargain human. A Monster will listen.”

“If I give myself to you, you must swear to leave the people in peace.” The Hero’s voice is strong, despite his terror. “If you leave, I will come with you and protect you from others.”

“If  a Monster doesn’t?” The Monster hums, amused. “If a Monster eats little bargain human?”

“Then my death wish will be the destruction of you and your ilk.”

Wary of the Hero’s confidence, the Monster considers.

“A Monster agrees with little bargain human. But a Monster has condition.”

“What?”

A gleam comes into the Monster’s eyes.

“A Monster gets to eat part of little bargain human!”

The Monster lunges at the Hero and pins him to the ground, talons piercing his shoulders. Saliva drips from its fangs as it lowers its mouth to the Hero’s stomach.

“WAIT WAIT WAIT!” The Hero’s voice is shrill enough that the Monster stops and glares at him.

“Why? A Monster is hungry. Little bargain human prevents a Monst–“

“I can help break your curse!”

Silence stretches between the Monster and the Hero. The Hero strains to hear if anyone in his camp has woken up, but he hears nothing over the pounding of his heart. 

“A Monster says nothing about a curse.” Its expression becomes confused and, dare the Hero think it, hopeful.

“Little bargain human knows stories.” The Hero says. “Little bargain human knows secrets.”

The Monster sits up, retracting its talons from the Hero’s shoulders. The Hero winces, but doesn’t cry out. 

“If…” The Monster begins, voice husky. “If a Monster takes little bargain human, little bargain human helps a Monster?”

“Yes,” the Hero breathes. 

“A Monster has to ask why little bargain human will help a Monster?”

The Hero fights the lump in his throat for a moment, unable to speak. 

“Because even Monsters deserve a chance at redemption.”

The Monster studies the Hero, something like sadness creasing its face. After a moment it shakes itself, lips curling back over its fangs. 

“Fine.  A Monster will not eat little bargain human tonight. If little bargain human lies about curse, a Monster eats?”

“Fair enough.”

“Fair… enough…” The Monster replies, pleased with itself for being so agreeable. Suddenly it sits up, sniffing the air. “A Monster must take little bargain human. Yellow eye comes, and little bargain human’s humans come.”

The Monster lifts the Hero with ease, carrying him before its chest.  The absurdity of the situation hits the Hero like a fist. He can barely keep from screaming as spindle legs devour the distance to the hills. 

“Monsters aren’t the only ones that crave forgiveness,” he reminds himself bitterly. Glancing around the Monster’s side he imagines his companions waking up, realizing he’s gone. He can’t avoid thinking about pain his love will feel.

Guilt drowning his fear, the Hero whispers an apology to his companions and prays that he is not mistaken.