Neon nights

• Brendan Allison, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2004

Neon Knights


Heavy pounding. Ceaseless and consistent, its pattern was the only sound audible above the onslaught of rain. Unlike the erratic beatings of his heart, every resonating crack seemed almost purposeful and thoroughly decided yet fell so quickly that it seemed impossibly natural. As suddenly as the storm above it had appeared with an aura of despair and demise – called by the approaching darkness. With it had disappeared all signs of life, all signs of hope. Felt rather than seen, like a hungry leech it had fed upon its ignorant prey, sucking the souls fire and leaving only primitive instinct for comfort.
Then the chase began, like a lion hunting mice – it would ultimately succeed, only time would offer any trace of mercy.
Weary and cold, his soaked body shivered and convulsed as he desperately clung to the hysterical horse – bolting in blind fear. Unable to see more than a few feet ahead he was forced to trust his mount’s directions and instincts. Yet as he looked into the mare’s fearful eyes he grew doubtful of its reliability – sensing as much as feeling its body’s readiness to collapse. He knew the beast had been pushed too far, and feared that at any moment its heart would die. And then he would be alone.
He risked a glimpse behind, distinguishing nothing but a panorama of deep shadows – untrustworthy and unwelcome. He knew his stalking spectre could have overrun both man and beast long ago, yet it had not once dared approach any closer. This did little to calm his fear. Did the figure behind him enjoy this pain? Was it playing games with him? His rage was short-lived at the prospect of angering such an entity and its consequences. Slowly seeping in, fear was joined by a strong sense of confusion – the spectre had done nothing to harm him, how could he even be sure it still followed? Draining the last of his bravery from unknown reserves he shifted his weight and turned around to examine the shroud behind him.
His questioning soul would be the end of him. Unbalanced and slackened, when his mount suddenly tripped from an unseen quarter he was sent flying to the hard barren earth. Pain filled his every thought, clutching his shoulder gingerly he winced as a flare went through his body. He soon forgot his discomfort. Listening intently he could no longer hear the heavy thunder of his pursuer.
Suddenly looming from the darkness a tall grand figure, shining a heavenly hue of gold thudded into view. Difficult to gaze upon, the only feature he could discern was a strange crest detailing a dark and elaborate blade, before twenty pounds of pure steel separated the sinewy flesh of his neck.

***

When the sky turned pink from the slow rise of the morning sun the only sign of disruption was a headless mummified corpse lying next to a beaten path, and a strange, empty, ornate sword sheath glinting in the foreign light.

Brendan Allison
Year 10
Carmel Catholic College
Thornlands 32060000