DISCLAIMER: This story was written and published in 2012 and has been kept up to show the writer’s growth. It is not intended as professional quality
It was the most important event in Miguel Madison’s life….finally some of the most famous historians had agreed to meet with him to discuss groundbreaking evidence of a lost era of history.
One by one they filed in. All of them dressed in business suits. The smell of fresh newspaper filled the air. A long moment of silence ensued. The tapping of a pencil was heard and long sighs filled the room for a while. After a few moments of silence one of the historians stood up and cleared his throat.
“Mr. Madison….you may start now.”
Madison ran his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Yes, yes.” He stammered and he clambered for a chunk of bone he had dug up. Dirt caked the bone, and Madison held it gently. He held the bone out to the crowd as if to offer it to them.
“Does anybody recognize this part of the body?”
Another long moment of silence ensued. Coughs were heard and finally Madison spoke again.
“It is my theory,” he mumbled, “that this bone belongs to an undiscovered creature. The date of the bone however is unknown.” He paused for a moment to turn his attention to a chart. “The bone seems to be part of a period of the Dark Ages unknown to us…”
“Get to the point.” An old historian grumbled, obviously angry.
“The point is there is a period of time unknown to us…it is my belief that this bone came from a creature of legend….a goblin.”
Snickers cracked the silence of the room. Finally and old and decrepit old man stood. “You expect us to believe,” he stated firmly, “that you think a fairy tale creature existed at one point in time without any record.”
Miguel bowed his head, “it’s not a theory.” He mumbled.
“Bullshit!” Another cut him off. “you waste our time with this shit?” he cursed.
“Wait!” Miguel pleaded, “please I have a hypothesis that can back up my—.”
Yet the historians paid no heed. They filed out one by one. Grumbles of anger and wasted time were heard. Finally Miguel Madison found himself alone in the huge empty room. The ensuing silence was maddening. Alone with his thoughts, Miguel Madison could do nothing but reflect….reflect back to the important date of 1315.
The wind howled like a monster in the night. Rain pattered down carefully upon the faces of King Arthur, Merlin and the fabled Goblin Hunter. Lightning cracked in the sky providing the trio with momentary light. Thunder roared overhead drowning out many noises.
King Arthur turned to the Goblin Hunter. “You expect me to believe,” he stated firmly, “that there are Goblins in my kingdom.”
“Yes.” The Goblin Hunter stated angrily. “I’ve told you that six times now.”
Arthur let out a chuckle. “Such talk is madness. Goblins are a thing of legend. They do not exist!”
Merlin stepped in and grabbed Arthur’s hand, “My Lord,” he stated, “You must believe him.”
Arthur jerked his hand away angrily. “Don’t tell me you’ve fallen into this madness as well! Has the greatest sorcerer had a spell cast upon him?”
“It’s the truth!” The Goblin hunter objected. “The Goblin King is on his way! Camelot will fall soon.”
Arthur paid no heed to the warnings. He simply marched back in the direction of his castle. “Nonsense.” He muttered. Rain dripped down off his helmet. “Camelot cannot fall.”
At last Merlin turned to The Goblin Hunter. “Apparently I did not gift you with any persuasive ability.”
The Goblin Hunter turned away, ashamed. “I just wish I could convince him….” His voice trailed off.
Merlin rested a gentle hand on The Goblin Hunter’s shoulder. “My Goblin Hunter,” he gently told him, “if Camelot is to fall…so be it. You have eternity to convince the humans of the impending danger…I trust you shall do so.”
All at once, Miguel snapped back to reality. Apparently in his daydreaming he had wandered off to his car. He slammed the car door shut behind him. He paused for a moment to reflect. “Merlin, oh Merlin.” He said to himself, “Where are you now that I most need you.”
Miguel tried to start the car but to his own surprise the engine stalled. Miguel heard a knock on his window. Miguel cast a apprehensive glance to his broadsword on the seat next to him. Stealthily he clutched the hilt. He slowly rolled down the window to see a strangely garbed man in linen. When he spoke his voice was that of oil mixed with gravel. “The King sends his regards….Goblin Hunter.” The voice hissed.
In one fluid motion the creature lashed out! He reached through the window throwing his large hands around The Goblin Hunter’s throat. His skin was that of cracked granite. “Your days are numbered.” The creature warned. “The Invasion is coming.”
Miguel slid the hilt of the sword out from its sheath. In one fluid motion he thrust his broadsword forward penetrating the creature’s stomach. It shriveled away in pain giving Miguel enough time to take the offensive. He leapt from his car and gave a mighty swing of his sword. “AWAY WITH THEE, GOBLIN!” he cried. The Goblin backed away with surprising swiftness for one his size. In a fluid motion he clutched a sword of his own and raised it to parry The Goblin Hunter’s block. Memories stirred. His life as a boy began to come to mind.
The house had been ransacked for reasons unknown. His Mother stood in a pile of blood, her face unrecognizable. The ten year old future Goblin Hunter stared with soft warm blue eyes.
The magician Merlin approached him from behind. “I feel sympathy for you.” He stated. “I have gone through similar ordeals.”
The young boy turned to Merlin. “Can you make them pay?”
Merlin let out a small chuckle. “My dear boy, I can’t make them pay…but I can aid you in your quest to do so.”
Tears swelled up in the young boy’s eyes. “Then do so.”
In a swirl of light a fine mist began to sliver into the room. “One million lives.” Merlin stated, gesturing with his hands. “The strength of ten. The intelligence of Kings….” Words were chanted unknown to any language, and the boy found himself transformed—.”
A sharp pain in the Goblin Hunter’s shoulder pushed him back to reality. The Goblin twisted his sword in his shoulder causing the Goblin Hunter to fall to his knees. A barrel role saved him from beheading and a swift gesture blocked another strike by the vile creature. Steel scraped against steal when the swords withdrew. A loud clang was heard as another stabbing attempt was parried. On and on it continued. The Goblin Hunter finally realized he could not out fight the creature. Instead he opted for something more subtle.
A quick sidestep sent the Goblin farther than intended. Off balance The Goblin Hunter sent his blade above the creature’s eyes, blinding him. With another swift combination of movements the Goblin had fallen to the floor.
The Goblin Hunter spat in the face of his foe. “Scum!” he cried. He lunged his sword into his opponent’s heart. Green blood oozed from beneath the Goblins’ traditional battle garb. The same blood filled his mouth and he let out a cough. “No one….” He slurred, “no one will believe you…It has been….ten thousand years…still you are shunned….the Invasion…will…come…” his voice trailed off and he stopped breathing. Slowly but surely the Goblin crumbled to dust.
The Goblin Hunter stood silent with the remains of his prey. His brow furrowed and he looked upon the remnants of his enemy. Determination filled his voice. “They will believe me…they will believe me…” he repeated the words over and over. “…eventually….after all….I have an eternity, don’t I?”