by Katherine Napier
The playful streaks of light in the distance let him know the faeries were here, so he stopped to observe. He saw two sitting in the trees to his left, and then he realized he was standing just above his goal. There, discretely looking like a tree stump, was the door to the goblins lair.
He slid his dagger from its sheath and crept down to the door. Claw marks on the left made it clear the direction it opened and as he pulled, the smell was there, the smell that was on his mother, his father, his sister. The smell of death and rot and saliva. He slid inside and let his eyes adjust to torchlight.
The cave opened up to a larger area and he stood at the edge of it, listening. He heard snorts and growls coming from the right, so he slid along the wall in that direction, just enough to catch a glimpse. There were two normal and one small, sitting around a bowl of meat with great focus. He was upon them in an instant, plunging the dagger deep into the biggest of them, then sliding it out for the next. The next largest hesitated, turned towards the smaller one, and that’s when he slit its throat.
Unbelievable pain shot up his left leg. The last one was biting him, and it made a sickening sound when he smashed it with his right foot.
Clawing sounds, and the cave door slams.