Autumn's Ravage

by Phil Armstrong

The night on the ledge passed without incident, each man took his watch and the monk’s prediction of safety proved to be correct. The Karcon was outnumbered facing a battle scene that would place him at a disadvantage, which gave the men the luxury of elevation, darkness, and a narrow rugged approach to the ledge. The Karcon had decided to wait until sunrise to initiate the fight, when he had the advantage of dawn’s light, a burned out fire, and the blinding rays of the rising sun at his back, blinding his enemies eyes. The men were pleased to have conquered the night and began to wake from their slumber. As the sun’s strong rays started to clear the treetops its welcoming warmth flooded the rocky ledge. The Chief watched as the men took it in turns to relieve themselves by urinating over the rocky ledge. The monk smiled for he knew this would drive the Karcon crazy with the scent of humans drifting through the clean crisp forest air.

  Within minutes the rocky ledge was now fully immersed with the early morning rays of the rising sun. The monk nodded at the Chief, as he reached under his robe to feel for the handle of the sacred knife of Princess Athena. The Chief shuffled to his feet and sauntered casually over to Raj and Dan. He squatted while reaching to feel the axe of his forefathers; the blade stained with crushed Corrian ferns, held in place by his leather belt. “Get on your feet, and get armed, the Karcon will be coming soon, real soon.” The worried looks quickly exchanged meant he was serious. Raj slowly grabbed his weapons, and loaded the clips to arm them. Dan casually walked over to the weapons bag, and began to arm himself with guns, clips, and knifes. The mining men had noticed the activity, and weren’t falling for it - no matter how subtle their movements and activities had been.

  Tom walked from the edge of the ledge holding a large semi-automatic weapon suspended from his shoulder by a large thick green strap. “What’s going on boys? Why are we all armed to the teeth?”

  He’d barely got the word ‘teeth’ out of his mouth, when a movement occurred so quickly it was hard to see, and shocked the group of men into action. A large dark mass had stealthily crept up the narrow path and was approaching the ledge. The sun’s blinding rays had disguised the Karcon lying motionless behind a large jagged boulder; he’d waited for the right moment to strike. Tom Jantz was the first casualty. He had no time to raise his weapon, or even fire off a single bullet in his defense. The Karcon had leapt forward, swiping his large paw across the neck of the hapless man. Blood sprayed the dark colored rocks; the force of the blow almost severed Tom’s head clean off. He was knocked backwards with so much force, that the chief of mine security quickly disappeared over the edge of the rocky ledge, falling to his certain death on the jagged rocks below.

  The Karcon turned menacingly to face the startled men, rising effortlessly onto his hind legs. The beast stood about nine feet tall, his dense, dark fur, covering his muscular frame. He growled and snarled at the men, hoping to scare them. The beast had long pointed ears, laying flat against his head in an aggressive manner. He snarled and shook his head, saliva dripped from his long, large snout. His lips were pulled back tightly, exposing his impressively large pointed teeth. The beast paced before issuing a warning, a deep loud growl, which echoed through the mouth of the cave; he opened his jaws, snaked his long tongue around his mouth, before shaking his head wildly and stomping his feet into the hard rock. The beast had large black inset eyes, which glared at the men in an unforgiving way. The sun had crested behind him, blinding the men and making the edges of the beast’s considerable frame a blur. Kevin was the first to react; he reached for a weapon, and fired numerous shots deep into the beast’s chest. The sound was deafening as round after round hit the animal. The Karcon absorbed the bullets, but a whizzing sound behind the animal indicated they had passed straight through, and were flying into the valley below. In a rush of blood to the head, Kevin advanced towards the beast, firing constantly. The Karcon retaliated to this annoying threat. Faster than anyone thought he could move, the large animal charged at Kevin, sinking his teeth into the man’s neck, and tossing his lifeless body high onto the rocks, at the side of the entrance to the cave. The shooting stopped and the beast rose to pound its unharmed chest.

  The monk kept his gaze firmly locked upon the Karcon, but whispered to the others, “The Karcon absorbs negative violent energy, its like food to him, and it only makes him stronger. Dan was petrified, and quietly moved closer to Raj. “Don’t shoot him,” instructed the monk. He felt for the sacred knife of Princess Athena, still in its sheath attached to his belt. The monk calmly stepped forward from behind the dying fire to face the beast, and his destiny. He’d travelled far for this moment, and had dedicated his entire life’s training for this one selfless act of courage. The monk removed his robe, pulled out the knife with his right hand, and assumed the Monkey pose, from the Kedden style of martial arts. For a big man Kaan was elegant, powerful, and nimble. The monk hoped the Karcon would attack, bringing him close enough that he could strike him with the sacred knife.

  The Karcon was wary, he’d seen the weapon being drawn, and he was intrigued by the unusual pose his next opponent had adopted. He growled his displeasure, and fell to all fours where he could move, strike, and maneuver, with more agility. The Karcon approached warily, walking cautiously in an imaginary circle, and keeping his distance, as he sized up the monk. The men stood frozen, as they watched the monk’s courageous act of confronting the beast. The dark shaggy fur glistened between the Karcon’s shoulder blades, as the sun illuminated the back of the impressive beast. Occasionally the monk would adjust his weight, while holding the Monkey pose, and taunting the beast. The Karcon didn't rush into accepting the monk’s invitation to engage, for he knew this foe would prove more challenging than the two simpletons before. The beast growled, and swiped his considerable paw outwards in a warning gesture, but the monk would simply back up elegantly, and re-adjust his stance. This dance continued until the Karcon saw an opportunity. The monk adjusted his weight, shifting from one foot to another, and the Karcon made his move. He lunged forward swiping his clawed paw in the direction of the monk’s abdomen.

  The monk had anticipated this strike, and moved gracefully through the Monkey pose to avoid the blow. He transitioned into the sacred Snake pose, allowing him to wield the knife and strike the beast hard with its cutting edge. The monk was surprised by the intelligence of the Karcon, for he’d anticipated this move. The paw swipe was merely a rouse, to reveal the monk’s plan. The swipe was half-hearted, and quickly withdrawn, allowing the beast to lunge forward with his other paw. The monk thrust his knife forward with a cutting motion narrowly missing by inches but he only managed to cut thin air. The beast rounded on the monk with a full-fledged blow, dragging his razor sharp claws across the body of the monk, who received the force of the blow. It ripped into the monk’s flesh with searing pain, followed by the force of the blow, which propelled the monk into the air. He landed forcefully onto the sharp rocks, and lay motionless, bleeding heavily from the deep abdominal wounds. The sacred knife was knocked from his hands and lay in the dirt, glinting in the rising sun. The men were stunned, as the Karcon snorted a satisfied grunt, as if to recognize his victory.

  The Karcon’s head was turned in the direction of the stricken monk when the Chief decided that was his opportunity to catch the beast off guard, and fulfill his destiny. He reached for his axe and raced towards the unsuspecting beast, with the sharp edge of the axe raised high in the air. The Chief’s plan almost worked, as the beast admired his victory and gloated over the fallen monk. The Karcon saw a flash of color from the decorative beads adorning the Chief’s jacket. He rolled to the left throwing his heavy frame to the floor to avoid the blow. The axe’s sharp edge hit the dirt-covered rock as the Chief missed the Karcon by the narrowest of margins. From there, it wasn't much of a contest, and the beast knew it. The Chief was old, and well past his fighting prime. The beast stomped a large paw onto the forearm of the downed Chief snapping the bones and liberating the axe. The Chief recoiled his shattered arm back in pain, as the ax
e remained embedded within the dirt; it’s decorative handle pointing to the sky. The beast felt sorry for the old man, and admired his bravery. He slapped him hard with the outside of his large paw, propelling the Chief into the rocks, like an irritating insect. The force of the blow, and the hard landing, knocked the Chief unconscious, as he lay strewn across the rocks.

  The Karcon stepped over the axe and approached the spent campfire. Raj and Dan cowered behind the flimsy protective embers, “We mustn’t let him enter the cave,” shouted Raj.

  Dan picked up a weapon and instinctively fired it at the beast ignoring the monk’s instructions. The bullets whizzed through the beast, and exited with no effect. Dan had a look of pure fear etched across his face, “What can we do?” he shouted, in desperation. Raj reached for the monk’s bow and arrow. Perhaps the old ways were the best. He raised the bow, and let the arrow fly, straight and true. Just like the bullet before, the arrow passed cleanly through the Karcon adding to its anger and energy. The beast rounded the pile of embers at the mouth of the cave. Raj and Dan had backed into the cave’s entrance and were now trapped.

  Raj had exhausted his options. Traditional weapons were useless, and they were no match for this beast, in a good old-fashioned fight. He felt sorry for Dan, and he knew this was it; they were both going to die unless he did something. The beast approached cautiously, but he could smell fear and sensed victory. Once the beast had dispatched the two amateurs, he would be free to enter the cave, and activate a portal to connect with his realm. The fight between darkness and light, good and evil, would be changed forever. On all fours the beast approached, his dark emotionless eyes flicked between the two men standing before him. Raj suddenly had an idea, “I’m going to attack, and when I do, I want you to run like the wind. Run around him and don't look back, he wants the cave; he’s not that interested in you. I want you to save yourself, you hear me?”

  Dan felt guilty about running away, but he was so scared he couldn’t come up with a better plan that might save them both. Dan nodded his acceptance, as words refused to form in his dried out mouth. Raj stooped to grab a large branch still protruding from the embers of the fire. Its end was charred and glowing, like brilliant red rubies embedded in the white ash that coated the branch. As he waved it in front of the Karcon, small pieces of ash filled the air. The beast backed up while it calculated its next move. Dan edged himself to the opposite side of the cave’s mouth, readying himself to make a running move around the beast, when the opportunity presented itself. Raj used the charred pole like a pike, to thrust and jab at the beast, trying to keep him at a safe distance.

 

  Raj waved the branch with the burning embers frantically in an attempt to distract the Karcon. Dan waited for his chance to bolt but the beast knew what Raj was attempting to do. Raj tried to coax him to one side, to create a space wide enough for Dan to run through. The Karcon was mean, he wanted the cave, but he wanted to end the fight with two more victims. “I’m sorry I got you into this mess,” shouted Raj, prodding the glowing stick towards the snout of the great beast.

  Dan sized up the beast and wondered how they were going to survive. How could they defeat this evil monster? He prayed for crimson butterflies to appear and a reprieve that would offer a chance to stop, plan, and re-group. “We’re in this together,” shouted Dan, wishing he were anywhere else. Dan tried to maneuver to the open space, but the beast kept clawing at his path to freedom and escape. The Karcon had angled them together where they would have to fight their last stand. Dan felt cold and very afraid. What could they do? Raj continued to wave the charred stick in the faint hope that it would provide some protection. He raised his arm out to the side in a protective way to shield Dan. Dan slipped his considerable frame behind Raj and acted like the frightened boy that he was.

  Dan had never seen such a creature, full of hate, anger, and rage. This was a beast created to kill, and feed on fear. It was a perfect killing machine, indestructible. Dan felt something on his ankle; he’d kicked a weapon lying on the ground. If he was to die, he wanted to go out fighting. Dan picked up the weapon and held it aloft. A thought raced through his mind; what if he shot at the eyes or the head. It would be a difficult shot but the beast was close enough to try. “Stay behind me,” snarled Raj, trying to protect the boy. The Karcon advanced sensing victory. He faked a swipe of his large paw and got the reaction he’d hoped for. Raj instinctively lunged forward with his stick only for the Karcon to swipe at it with his other paw. The protective stick flew from Raj’s grip, as the force of the blow connected. He tried to recover, but stumbled to the ground as the stick flew through the air and shattered upon the rocks. They were now exposed and vulnerable.

  Dan knew he couldn’t wait any longer; he had to act, he had to try to kill this thing. This could be the end, and he didn’t want to die. A vision of his Mother’s smiling face flashed through his mind. It shocked him as she never smiles, and he’d remembered just how happy she’d been this last week. It was the happiest he’d seen her in years. He raised his weapon and squeezed the trigger unleashing a volley of bullets upon the advancing Karcon. They whizzed through his chest as he let out a deafening roar. It stopped the advancement of the Karcon, but he remained as menacing as ever. Dan lifted the barrel of the gun slightly where the bullets ripped into the great beast’s throat and upwards into the snout.

  Dan was lucky, with Raj on the ground, one of the bullets pierced the eye of the Karcon causing him to recoil, and shake his head in an annoyed growl. He ducked and dived to avoid the hail of bullets, clearly annoyed at the pluckiness of his weaker foe. Dan pressed the trigger, and tried to aim for the eyes. Black blood seeped from the wounded eye but the beast remained. The eye darkened and the wound healed instantly. For a few seconds the beast had been hurt, but suddenly two things happened which changed everything.

  Dan squeezed the trigger and the deafening noise and the violent vibration of the weapon ceased; he was out of ammo. The beast immediately recognized the silence, and proudly altered his posture to stand tall. His eyes were now gleaming, healed, and focused upon Dan. This was the moment. The Karcon would make him pay for inflicting pain, and he would spare no mercy in taking this spiritual cave. He straightened his back, pushed out his chest and opened his long muscular arms wide, exposing his razor sharp bloodied claws. He lowered his snout and glared at the two men, enjoying the fear he induced and the imminent victory.

  Raj positioned himself in front of Dan like a shield, he covered his head with his arms, in a protective, yet submissive gesture. Dan stared at the Karcon’s head in a defiant last stand. Dan suddenly noticed the faintest glint of the sun’s reflection bouncing off a metallic surface, between the Karcon’s pointed ears. It was enough to draw his attention to the strange sight.

  The Chief’s sacred axe rose majestically, and plunged into the back of the Karcon’s skull. A dark ominous cloud poured from the beast’s head wound, like a swarm of black bees filling the air. The darkness streamed upwards into the clouds emptying the form and mass of the ferocious animal that stood before them. He fell onto all fours, seemingly losing his strength. He howled loudly, but this time it was different. It wasn’t the enraged, angry, vicious, howl of a predatory beast. This was the howl of pain and suffering; a defeated animal, knowing his time had come.

  The great beast screamed in pain as his entire hulking frame evaporated into a dark ash cloud that blew away in the cool morning breeze. Transfixed upon the shriveling beast the men raised their eyes to see a figure stagger forward through the dust filled air.

  It wasn’t the Indian Chief, for he lay injured and motionless upon the jagged rocks. It wasn’t the mine guys, for they’d been torn apart, and were not going to survive the brutality of their attacks. It wasn’t the monk; they could see him lying unconscious and badly injured, strewn across the rocks. Who was this strange figure? As he brushed aside a dark swirling cloud in front of him.

  As the air cleared, the men squinted in the strong sunlig
ht trying to focus on the stranger standing before them. He staggered slightly, and wiped the sweat from his brow using his shirt’s sleeve. With his face hidden, his uniform became clear, and a familiar patch sewn on his shirt revealed his identity. His timing could not have been any better, with the beast stunned by the bullets, his vision weakened and his anger clouding his judgment, the courageous Sheriff had stumbled across what he thought was a massive bear.

  He knew his firearm was not loaded, a precaution he’d taken for the last year, not trusting his drunken state. He never told the people of the village, because they didn’t need to know. He’d seen the axe and courageously attacked the giant beast, striking him with a full blow to his skull. A mixture of adrenaline and fear had propelled the drunken Sheriff to leap into the air and strike the beast with all of his strength.

  What happened next was a complete shock to the Sheriff, he’d often hallucinated, but this seemed so real as the large Bear simply evaporated in front of his eyes. Looking stunned, the men caught the Chief before he crumpled into a drunken heap onto stone surface of the ledge. “You’re a hero,” shouted Dan.

  “What the hell did I just see?” said the Sheriff still confused.

  Raj took over, “A very large Bear, you fatally injured him. He rolled off the ledge.” Raj winked at Dan.

  “He evaporated,” said the Sheriff, rubbing his head.

  “Don’t be daft Sheriff, he fell wounded over the ledge, and you’re a hero, thank you for saving our lives.” The Sheriff reeked of whiskey, but basked in the adoration and praise.

  Raj ran over to the Chief to see if he was alive, he was badly wounded, but he was regaining consciousness. The monk was barely alive but in a bad way.

  “How did you find us?” inquired Dan, excited to be alive.

  “I’d been drinking and I couldn’t drive home. I went back to the hotel to sleep in my car, after I had breakfast at the Diner, and overheard you guys talking about the lookout point and the hunt. I slept it off, and followed your route the next day. I saw the truck and the jeep, and I knew about this ridge; my Father told me about this place when I was a kid. He told me it was a sacred Indian place. I heard the growling, and the shots, and figured the hunt was in full swing. So I followed the sound. I passed the body of Tom Jantz at the bottom of the ridge. I take it they both didn’t make it?”

  “No,” said Raj, returning to the conversation, “and yet you still came to help us. You’re either stupid or really brave. I want to thank you for being really brave, and for saving our lives.”

  The Sheriff puffed his chest out, and imagined the praise he would get when he returned to Autumn. The men managed to carry the injured out from the brush and loaded them into the waiting vehicles. Both were rushed to hospital, where unfortunately the monk succumbed to his horrific injuries, but the Chief recovered. Dan had the presence of mind to retrieve the axe, and the sacred knife. The Chief kept both artifacts in case the Karcon, or any other incarnation of evil, returned to Autumn.

  The men used the Dream Cane to make one last return to the Village of Autumn. They attended the parade, thrown by the village to honor the bravery of Sheriff Kevin Jones and the memory of those that had died. The Chief recovered, and attended the parade. There was an unusual air of mystery about these events, which still entertains the village-folk to this day. The story was riddled with disappearing bodies. The monk named Kaan; his body was admitted to the village morgue for two days before it seemingly disappeared into thin air. The bodies of the mine men were never found in the forest, but the locals blamed the Wolves and Bears, as the likely culprits. Finally, the body of the great Bear was never found. It’s not uncommon for a mortally wounded animal to hide while they die. Other predatory animals could have disposed of the body or, as the urban legend now states, the great Bear still roams the forest, waiting to return and ravage Autumn once again.

  The wounds on the monk and the Chief, substantiated the story, but what made the story interesting to historians, was the disappearance of the famous hunters Barnes & Colder, shortly after the event. They never made it back to the Grafton Hotel, or their office in Laran City. Some say that the Bear was so ferocious that the hunters retired instantly, and became recluses in a warmer country.

  The Sheriff used this terrifying experience as a catalyst to quit drinking, and to reorganize his life. He later married Annie from the diner, lost a lot of weight, and pulled his life together.

  Everyone had a theory about the village stranger Kaan, and the hunters. Each version of the story was embellished; some even believed they were Aliens from another world! The Village of Autumn never paid the missing hunters; instead their story was incorporated into the annual harvest play, to honor the fallen, and the heroes of that day. Sheriff Jones was always portrayed as the ultimate hero, and he smiled every time he saw the annual harvest play re-enacted.

  The Indian Chief died a few years later, he never fully recovered from his injuries, but not before he passed down the real events of that day. It was the new Chief’s job to preserve the real story, to stay vigilant against the threat of evil, and to keep the Axe of the Waishee tribe, and sacred Knife of Princess Athena safe.

  The Sheriff had led the parade, dressed smartly in his newly pressed uniform. He was confident, sober, and looking relaxed. The Chief rode at the rear of the parade; smiling to the crowds he suddenly caught a brief glimpse of Dan and Raj, standing to the rear of the appreciative crowd. He waved at them momentarily, as they seemed to evaporate right in front of his eyes, surrounded by a spiral of crimson butterflies. “Tugnars,” murmured the Chief, “from another dimension.”