|
|
“Ian!” his father cried. “God of mercy! Ian!” They all came galloping towards him. They were shouting cheers of triumph. Ian sat motionless. His head hurt and his nose stung from the stench of the thing’s remains. His blade had been true. It had severed the thing’s head, or at least its main head, neatly. The men moaned in disbelief when they seen the carcass. “Thy God in heaven, what cursed entity would have created such an abomination?” “Tis the work of Satan, as I said,” cried Franz as he ran towards the men. “I told you all of the nature of the beast! Now God may grant us peace.” Ian’s father placed a hand on his shoulder. Even though he could not see, Ian felt the pride swelling in his father. “You have done well my son. You have done well.” From
then on Ian accepted his handicap and even embraced it. His life
hardly strayed from the norm but he found adventure in a different
arena…his mind. And as for that fateful day when he slaughtered
the beast, he somehow grew grateful that he was without sight.
For perhaps the creature sensed his dead eyes, thus hesitating
long enough for him to act. He had met God’s challenge and
passed with flying colors. *** THE END ***
|