A branch snaps and she barely has a moment to register the movement through the trees. A giant blue fist slams into the soft earth where Jameson stands. When the fist rises, there is nothing left of the man but red tendrils of gore that extend like webs between the blue fist and the ground.
‘Jesus fucking Christ.’
She scrambles up the ladder and into the cockpit. Her fingers dart over the controls, lighting up the dashboard in moments. A deep whine starts in the engine. She doesn’t bother with pre-flight checks. A glance up and she sees the long nose of the troll poke through the treeline. It inspects its own fist as if seeing for the first time and ventures an exploratory lick across the smear of red across the side of its palm.
The canopy is still lowering when she feels the lurch that comes with touch-off. The troll turns its head to look right at her. It starts to pace forward. She’s twenty feet off the deck, about chest height with the troll, and she starts to rotate the nose towards the advancing creature.
The troll lets out a strange, low roar and lifts its bloody fist above its head. The nose overextends and she readjusts. Her thumb squeezes the button on top of the joystick. The cockpit vibrates with the force of the autocannon spooling up and letting rip. The tracers flash through the air and tear through the blue midriff of the approaching troll, sending up a spray of pink mist and chunks of blue flesh go flying. The troll looks more surprised than anything. Her eyes widen as the shadow of its massive, limp body looms over her.
Paddy Dobson
16th May 2021