Chapter 10: Chapter 7: Rabid Rabbit Rumble

Chapter 7: Rabid Rabbit Rumble

 

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"For centuries, for millennia, you've done nothing but watch, passive and useless, decaying, like a crumbling statue. Aide us, ancestor, in our time of need, or condemn your offspring to annihilation" ~ From: "Histories of The Fall" by Horace Taemon Kai.

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Flying through the air, the beast’s outstretched forelegs reached for Logan’s face.

 

It was a rabbit-looking creature, but the proportions were all wrong: the animal was the size of a medium dog—a husky, or a retriever. Its legs were too long, spindly things bound with sinewy muscle that thinned down below the knee before ending in small feet with razor sharp claws several inches long.

 

Its head was large and angular, tall ears protruding from the top behind small, glistening beady red eyes that bore holes into him with rabid hunger. Its mouth was open, two pairs of long white teeth glistened, promising to tear his flesh.

 

Logan was still catching his breath when the beast attacked. He hurriedly raised his sword in front of his face for protection as he scrambled to his feet, but he was too slow. The rabbit soared towards him faster than the sword could defend. Its claws scored the flesh of his forearm, cutting out long gouges as they slid across his skin.

 

The pain was hot fire, valleys of torn flesh screaming and burning. Blood filled the gashes and began streaming from the wound, dripping down his elbow and into the dirt. The pain made him drop his sword, and he flung his mangled arm sideways, casting the creature off.

 

He bent to grab the fallen sword with his left hand, panicking as the rabbit regained its footing, faced him, and began loping forwards with ferocious speed. Blood, his blood, matted its white fur, staining it with a sinister pattern that matched the beast's bright red eyes.

 

This time, he was ready for the attack. Calling on every ounce of mental fortitude he had, Logan ignored the pain in his arm and held the sword in front of him, keeping it low. Bending his knees slightly, he clenched his jaw shut as the rabbit leapt again, ugly teeth snapping at him.

 

He anticipated the jump and dodged out of its path. Pivoting so the flew past him, he whipped the sword upwards with as much force as he could muster. His dodge hadn’t succeeded entirely, but as the rabbit’s outstretched claw clipped his right shoulder, the sword connected from below, slicing into the soft, unprotected skin of its underbelly.

 

He staggered backwards, spinning from speed and weight behind the glancing blow. This time however, he’d made sure to keep hold of the blade.

 

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When its forelegs hit the dirt, they gave out, and the rabbit skidded on its face to a halt. It was still alive. With its entrails pouring out into a wet, bloody mess where it lay, the creature hissed at him ferociously as it tried in futility to get up.

 

He stalked towards the creature with slow, measured steps, cautious of a sudden attack. When he was just a few feet away he broke into a dash, veering to its side, trying to get an angle on the fallen beast’s head. The rabbit managed a last bout of strength and stood, rising to its hindlegs and snarling at him.

 

He ducked a wild swipe, loaded his weight onto his right leg, and lunged up at the rabbit, sword outstretched. The point penetrated the rabbit’s throat, passed through its neck, and protruded out the other side.

 

They fell, man and beast, backwards onto the ground. Logan had fallen on top of the rabbit after losing his grip on the sword. He lay atop the animal, clothes covered in its blood, trembling. He rolled off of it, sword forgotten as he lay on the dirt and nursed his injuries. His right arm was a disaster; the shoulder was ruined, and from his elbow to the wrist red channels ran like riverbeds. The pain was the worst he’d ever felt in his life, and he breathed sharply through his teeth as he removed a bandage from his inventory and hastily began wrapping his arm.

 

How had this happened? Weren’t rabbits supposed to be starter mobs?

 

This thing had only used one type of attack but had almost killed him. He'd beaten it though and managed to survive, barely. He looked at his arm which throbbed in agony.

 

"Are you okay? That looks like it hurts! To think you humans kept these things as pets on Earth, crazy!" Mikey said, his concerned tone lasting for only a few words before it regained its normal, chipper tenor.

 

“I’m fine,” he replied through gritted teeth then added, “I think. And that wasn't a normal rabbit. Do you really think we'd keep these things in our houses?"

 

He got a sudden mental image of Mikey shrugging, hands raised and a dumb grin on his face that seemed to say he wouldn't doubt it of humans.

 

Logan touched the blood on his shirt.

 

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