Hare of Misfortune

Mind in a strange familiar haze between clarity and mania, Rachel smiled at the cool air that tickled the hair on the back of her neck as the sapphire and alabaster moons broke through the canopy, bathing her in contradictory energy.

Time stretched and flashed by in the blink of an eye between each action as she moved from group to group of goblin scouts; her cold pursuit through the ominous forest was liberating as the bright azure rays embraced her.

Whistling as she stalked the crying and whimpering goblins through the night, loving every agonizing, panicked twitch that came from their muscles, Rachel reveled in the hunt, losing track of time.

Yet, it wasn’t as if she couldn’t remember what she did or the goal pumping through her veins in her methodical approach. She made sure to let these creatures know she wasn’t in their forest; they were in hers, and a few had to be left alive to spread the story.

Rachel slipped through the night like a ghost, her swift movements leaving a gust that whipped up leaves as she moved to less dense areas to soak in the celestial bodies’ light, which cast a cold tint across the scenery.

It was as if the forest itself held its breath as she continued to explore her new abilities under the watchful gaze of the two moons. She felt oddly jovial under the lunar rays as she watched the unusual creatures dash for their holes or brush to hide, her whistle silencing the woods.

A slight smirk lifted the corner of Rachel’s lips as her chest shook with silent laughter; she had been leaving a trail of bodies for the goblin leader to find, welcoming him to follow the carnage to meet her and set the tone.

Two goblins scurried across the ground—the last of their troupe of five that she’d easily outpaced in a wide circle, waiting behind a tree to set the mood; if she was a myth in this world, she had to start it right.

Drawing in air, she let the same foreboding whistle penetrate the still night while pausing for a few seconds. Each pant and droplet of sweat that hit the ground quickened her blood, ready to ambush them as the goblins tripped and fell on their faces.

This was so much fun, but it wasn’t necessarily the fear she smelled from the creatures that made her heart thump—on the contrary, the hunt itself would be tedious—no, it was the challenges she placed on herself and the stage she was setting with their boss that drew her anticipation. It was the rare instance when she saw a goblin hear the whistle that foretold their deaths but chose to face her regardless instead of running.

Stepping out from behind the tree, she saw the creatures’ lives flash before their eyes as they viewed her illuminated figure and glowing red eyes.

Ceasing the sound, she tossed the horn one of the goblins had fumbled and dropped in their previous encounter, making them flinch as it hit the ground; one had almost lost their trousers in the whirlwind that was her assault. ”Go ahead, blow it.”

It swallowed, tentatively reached down, and released the call, making Rachel smile. ”Perfect. Now...who is going to run first—you?”

Rachel caught the neck of its friend when it dashed to the left. It wasn’t even hard, gripping the tiny, wriggling thing and lifting it off of its feet to dangle in the air; it wasn’t as if their path was random, either.

She threw it at a leafy area that didn’t reverberate in the same way as its surroundings with their footsteps; the goblin screamed as it fell through the pitfall trap, landing on spikes below.

”You tried. You’re all so...weak when alone or when you can’t lay an ambush. I guess there is a reason people in this world do find it troubling to deal with your kind, though,” she mused, letting the goblin stumble to the foggy zone that would lead back to the direction this tribe had migrated from, according to the information she’d gathered.

”I really hope your boss won’t disappoint me,” she sighed, walking to the pitfall trap to stare down at the evidence of previous use.

The goblin was still alive, gagging and rasping for help, no doubt, as it processed its death, holding onto the sharpened stick that had penetrated its gut. It seemed things died a lot slower from some wounds than some movies portrayed.

Her focus turned south, letting the chilling vibes of the sheens of light cast from the dual celestial objects soak through her skin; she noticed a pale blue-and-white glow emanating around her. She felt invincible, which, oddly enough, wasn’t exactly a good feeling.

He’s still not upset or in a rush... Rachel hummed to herself, following the path of the goblin champion as he moved between the areas of brutalized goblins, observing her work. Maybe I need to change my tactics... Shit.

Rachel’s mouth drew in upon hearing Anthony enter her ears’ range again; it appeared he’d handled his side of things while she tried to make this conflict with the goblin boss more appetizing, yet a sudden idea made her smile, and she instantly accelerated into a sprint. Surely, if something would get this bigger goblin motivated, it would be invading his home.

Slowing near the cave entrance, Rachel held her hands behind her back and started her whistle, daring any goblins nearby to challenge her; word had gotten back to the lair about the slaughter, which was why the boss was on the move.

Her call was met with goblins ducking behind trees and running into the tunnels to warn the others that the hare had made it home. She passed through the outer perimeter, walking past the petrified goblins that had seen her crush their friends, their blood still wet on her fists, cheeks, and front.

She bypassed all the traps, sharp eyes and ears tracking every twitch in the area; her whistle came to a stop when an arrow was shot at the back of her head from an archer in a tree. It whizzed past her neck as she tilted it to the side, half turning to stare up at the petrified creature that had thought itself wholly hidden.

”Most of you are already that terrified of me, hmm?” she softly asked, standing just outside the abyss that led to deep tunnels underneath the earth.

Anthony was cautiously making his way to the area, and Rachel could understand why now that she could hear everything within the caverns below. There were hostages; worse, they were children. Yet, for some reason, she wasn’t thrilled to go rescue them; the hero could do that.

”Boring. If all of you attacked, maybe I’d be forced to get serious, but I suppose most goblins are cowards.”

Sighing, she found no enjoyment from the throng as they all inched around her to run into the tunnel. Eight goblins from the scouts she’d encountered managed to make it back to spread the news, yet not one had the brass to engage her again.

Her ears shot straight up as a shrill, much louder horn sounded a hundred meters north. It was a hidden cave entrance that appeared to be their emergency exit; they were letting all of the other goblins in the area know the home base was under attack, or maybe not, considering the goblins around the forest changed course, running uphill.

Are they retreating? Goblins really are no fun... she internally grumbled, putting her hands on her hips and turning in a slow circle to face the cave again.

Her ears drifted forward, listening intently to the chatter of snarls, whimpers, and cries that echoed through the tunnels.

I guess Anthony has another quest to rescue the kids... Why did they keep them alive? she coldly thought, studying the goblin’s decorations with a hint popping into her mind.

Human clothing, human skulls, elven-like strung-together ears, and bony fingers piled up in purposeful piles outside like some art statement drew Rachel a vivid picture of how these creatures lived. Children were likely a delicacy—even among humanoid meats—considering the twelve unique, muffled whimpers she heard deep inside, waiting to be savored.

Her eyes rose to the clearing heavens, bright with celestial wonder; she didn’t want to leave the sapphire moon—if she did, Rachel instinctively knew she’d start questioning her actions again, and there was a time for that, but that wasn’t now.

”When did I get such a twisted soul?” she whispered to herself, chin still lifted to the sky as her eyes shifted to the left, acknowledging Anthony when he saw her through the trees; it wasn’t hard, considering her glow. I have a lot to unpack when this is over.

Anthony’s spear rested against his shoulder, bright-green irises scanning the still woods for danger or traps, which he had so far skillfully dodged, proceeding with care, unlike her.

”Took care of the goblin ambush?”

”Uh, yeah, it wasn’t a huge deal,” he muttered, sweeping her appearance with tight lips. ”Huh. Well, you look like you’ve had quite the night; I’m...guessing that isn’t actually your blood, right?”

Showing a charming smile, she held up her wrists, showing light cuts that had already congealed. ”Funny story; my blood has turned white! And I’m guessing you’re here for a new quest to rescue the children?”

Anthony forced a laugh, focus drifting between the grizzly aesthetic of the goblin den and the arrow sticking into the ground near her. ”Probably triggered by you... I think it’s safe to assume you’ve got everything mapped out with those big ears. So...figure things out?”

”Not entirely, answering both questions,” she shrugged, finding her arm behind her back as he approached, keeping a distance so she didn’t have to look up at him. ”The cave messes with my ears a bit, but it isn’t a big deal.”

”Uh-huh.”

He studied her for a few seconds, and Rachel stared back, wondering what thoughts were going through his head. She was covered in goblin guts, after all.

A shower would definitely be needed when they returned.