Friday 28 September 2018

Tig's Adventures: El Chupacabra.



The pungent stench of goat was heavy in the air, and the blood covered Chupacabra standing over Tig didn’t help the aroma. It snarled, tail whipping through the air – deciding whether to eat him…to drain his blood…to harness his organs…Tig couldn’t remember which one Boyrahn had told him was most likely. Right now, it didn’t seem to matter – he was going to die either way. The Chupacabra raised his scaled hand, eyes glowing red, ready to tear him apart.


The crowd cheered. King Joolloot egged the monster on. Tig rolled to the side in a whirl of dust from the arena and crawled desperately towards the weapons table. The Chupacabra snapped his tail through the air once more and the whipping sound urged Tig on like a jockey’s horse. Hysterically crying, Tig couldn’t see much of the weapons table, but he could only hope he was crawling in the right direction.


Three sharp points ripped through his shirt and the heat of blood mingled with the sweat on his back. Agony blazed through his bones - the adrenaline only made Tig more terrified, but before the Chupacabra could stab his claws through him one final time and drain him of all his blood – Tig rolled around, screaming and kicking wildly in a hopeless attempt to keep the monster from drinking him dry. A foot hit the Chupacabra through the jaw, and it staggered back long enough for Tig to scramble closer to the weapons table. His heart wasn’t in it. He was dead. DEAD! No number of muskets or throwing knives or broadswords would save him. He was a farm boy. Not a soldier. Certainly not a Monster Librarian. He couldn’t even write!


The Chupacabra whipped him with his tail with such razor-sharp force Tig’s cheek bled. He knocked over the weapons table with one final cry and a crash of weapons hitting the arena floor – but it was too late. It was hopeless. The Chupacabra was before him once more. Fangs dripping with blood and salivated with hunger. Eyes glowing. Sweat brought a gleam to his patches of scales and a matted damp to his long thick hair.

“Eat him! Eat him! Eat him!”

The hungry growl of the monster rumbled over the chanting of the crowd, Tig’s only hope was to drown the sound out with his tears and cries of agony.

The Chupacabra scratched him again and Tig began aimlessly picking up the weapons that had fallen next to him - throwing them at the monster. The Chupacabra tail wrapped around his neck. Tig threw a roll of rope and missed completely.

“Eat him! Eat him! Eat him!”

The Chupacabra punctured his skin, three claws on one side of his chest, three claws on the other. Tig threw a mace at the monster, it hit his shoulder and broke the grip of one of his hands – but it didn’t last long. Both sets of claws were soon upon him again.

“Eat him! Eat him! Eat him!”

Tig bled.

“Eat him! Eat him! Eat him!”

And Tig bled.

“Eat him! Eat him! Eat him!”

And he bled.

He threw a throwing knife that scratched the monster’s shoulder, but nothing changed. Tig just felt more light-headed. He whacked him with a staff, and the grip of the tail left his neck, but the three-pointed grip draining him didn’t flinch for a second.

“Eat him! Eat him! Eat him!”

The crowd was going wild as Tig was devoured before them, the Chupacabra looked down at him, the hunger in his eyes being sated by the second. Tig threw more weapons at him, finally landing on a musket that he whacked him with repeatedly - with all of the little strength he had left. It did nothing but annoy the monster, occasionally making him lose grip, but when Tig’s finger found the trigger – the world was split with a shattering bang.

The audience went quiet. The Chupacabra let go – red glow fading from his eyes and regressing to a hazel that was hauntingly human. Tig stared up at the bullet hole going through the monster’s neck in disbelief – the Chupacabra seemed just as shocked, stumbling where he stood for a moment or two before collapsing to the ground. Tig suddenly realised he could stand, the monster was off him, and he scrambled to his feet without much thought. Sniffing through his tears, he raised the musket again. Screaming like a madman, he swung it over and over again into the still body of the Chupacabra, far too shaken to ever believe that it would really be dead.



The crowd got passed their stunned silence and followed King Joolloot as he erupted into applause, even if there didn’t seem to be a lot of heart in it. As if they were disappointed they hadn’t seemed the monster eat the farm boy. Tig carried on screaming and bashing the Chupacabra with the end of his musket without paying much attention. 

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