IMP

Chapter 2: Okan

"Eliat make pawn of you too."

He looked closely. They were two. He needed to be sure. He didn't know why they reduced. Was

that some new level of prank? He couldn't be sure. He needed to affirm. He was done hiding behind

the tree. He needed to face whatever time would toss at him. Whether or not he had done anything

outta his bound back in Eliat, in the underworld, he didn't care. Twasnt some big things to be puked. He

wouldn't be the first and neither would he be the last. He wouldn't make he seem as though he was the

worst thing in the context of being. He dumped the thought, else he would be jilted by pain. He did what

was considered grievous, but of course he would point tons of leaders and others who had done what

was worst than his. He had read about some. He had met some in his guts. While he still plied the

route of the abyss, he would make confetti of his curiosity. He was used to it. But that was not the time

to make guesses or prune hypotheses. Business needed to be dealt with and he could handle it. Of

course he would.

He travelled his eyes again. At that moment, he was sure that only two of them were there. Of

course he had no idea what had happened to the remaining. He had fought and fought that his hands

almost made isolation of themselves. He knew that he yet had to train his tail. They could help him

more. But he wasn't sure if that would be necessary. He wasn't sure if that would be of great

consequence. He was only sure of the fact that, after getting rid of the two before him, he would be free

from the spells of the underworld. But sooner or later they would track him again, but of course he

would be ready for them. He had ever been and would ever be. Fighting the Centuars was not a mill

around his neck. They were nothing like the Satyrs. The Satyrs were crazier and ruthless. He knew if

they were the ones to be fought, he might give up. He considered closely as they moved towards

him,damn! Twas a Satyr and a Centuar. Were they the survivors? Did the remaining return to the

underworld. He needed to fiddle with their rage and buy time. Two at a time wouldn't be a cake. He

knew that quite alright.

"You two survivors? Wanna be heroes? Won't you return to momma and be breastfed?"

He knew what would happen. He watched them looked into each other's eyes. They should be

annoyed. They should be pissed. And that was all he needed. He could play with that feeling. He would

make it bulge. He would prune their ire and make it ooze pain. He knew how to play around words. He

knew how to feast on what they despise. That was what he had been using against them. But that time,

it seemed as though twouldnt work out for him. It seemed as though the trick wouldn't foster a fruit. He

hadn't thought twould go that way. He hadn't had a successful thought in a long time. He had just been

living. Escaping from one world to the other. Fighting under the water was the worst experience he had

ever had. There was an advantage to it actually, but the disadvantages were outta this world. Damn! It

could be very murderous. Imagine having to fight a lanky shark alongside groups of Centuars. He even

had no idea how he had survived the odds, but probably time had tested him. He was hale, was sane

and would keep on track. That was all that mattered.

The two hideous creatures moved towards him. He knew running away wasn't an option. He would

even be a crooning coward to do that. He would never ever. He remembered what his father would

always say. Die by fight or fight to die. He hadn't understood what those meant. Probably his father

meant to say that he should fight till death. But he realized that his semantic stance was defected. That

was not what his father meant. He realized what he meant to fight to die. The eager one wishes to die,

death runs away from such. Why wouldn't poor death? Everyone would cower before him. Everyone

would crumble before him. Everyone would fall before him. Everyone would quake before him. And

then a stray being? He wouldn't quake, fall, run before him? How daring such could be? Such wouldn't

be daring for naught of course. Hence he would quake for the person and run as far as possible from

such. And it had worked for him. The keener he dared death, the farther he did run from him. He would

prick that. But the creatures were ready to trade few words.

"Return to Eliat and be saved from the sword of Aikon! Even your mother await your return."

The Satyr picked from where the Centuar dropped.

"You father sent his pleasantries and wished for you to return in a haste. He's dying of meeting

you." Published by Nôv'elD/rama.Org.

Of course he knew what they were doing. He knew what they were capable of doing. He wasn't in

for their hooey. He had never been and wouldn't start being. Total claptrap, hogwash, balderdash and

he obviously could say it to their face. Of course he did.

"Meatheads. Try again later."

Then the four-legged came charging at him. Centuars did think themselves ruthless, but they truly

were the least bits of faker skins. He could say that over and over again. He ducked the blow she

tossed and twirled his tail across her body. Twas above her tits he caught. He sank the blades in the

tail in the innocent tits and forcefully dragged the tail across the tits free. The Centuar dropped and

melted into apt atmosphere. Twas then himself and the Satyr.

He watched the Satyr danced by and hit him in the jaw. How quickly a Satyr could disappear. That

was exactly what he feared. He fell on the earth as the Satyr came sitting on him to suck his tongue but

he threw his face sideways and did nod him in the throat. The Satyr stood and staggered back with

back to him as he leapt on his back and wrang off his neck. He dropped and watched the psycho melt

also. He hadn't thought twould be that.

Then he took few steps forward to be sure where he was on that part of the world and whether or not

Intruders were still present.