It was a dark, cold night, and Andrew was slipping through the trees, barely visible. Over the past year, he had mastered his techniques. Now it was his apprentice exam, to see if he could get into the Plague fighters. The Plague was an organization of beasts, or more like souls. They were ruled by a shamanic ruler, named George. He had integrated monsters and demons souls into things like bracelets and swords, forming an over-soul of a demonic beast. The beasts looked like they had scars all over their faces, and they only had a mouth, with sharp fangs for teeth, but the face otherwise was nothing. And as Andrew thought about them, he shuddered, but then he concentrated at the task at hand. He had been trained with only knives and swords, for the time being. As he ran through the trees, not making a sound, he heard something behind him, but it was just a faint sound of leaves being brushed. He looked behind him and saw nothing. Then, he heard it again, a little bit louder this time.
But it was at that moment that he made it across to the open clearing, where guards were posted, they wore thick, heavy armor to protect them from any weapon hitting them. There were exactly five of them, and he had five throwing knives. So he slipped out into the clearing, staying low to the ground. Then he got up for a split second, took his knife, and threw one. It landed in the man’s chest plate with a satisfying thunk. He crouched down, for a split second then stood up while he spun round to get some momentum. He threw his second knife and it just barely missed the guard by a foot. But Andrew had a second knife ready. The first was just a distraction, and he hit his target strait on. He hit the other 2 guards with amazing speed, but he was out of knives. Worried that the guard would turn any minute, he ran three feet from one of the guards, did a cartwheel, and grabbed his knife in the process, and spun around and threw the knife.
Now, he thought, he must get his other knives and get to the woods. “Never leave valuable equipment behind; it may save your life.” The phrase echoed in Andrew’s head, as it had been drilled into him for the past year. As he picked up the knives and ran to the forest.
As he entered the forest, he felt this eerie feeling, like something was watching him. As he got farther into the forest, he heard that strange brushing sound again. Andrew turns around and looked for the source of the sound. Then he saw it, a small flicker of movement that caught his attention. He automatically reached for his knife, but a low, dark, evil voice stopped him. “Who dares to try to harm the Plague, for his penalty shall be death” it seemed to say as a hooded figure stepped out of the shadows, with a gleaming sword. Andrews mind was racing! The Plague, the sword, he didn’t know if this was part of the exam, but he didn’t think so. He did what his gut told him to do, and drew his sword, a bad mistake. The Plague saw the movement and intercepted, by shooting a light blue, magic like flare that paralyzed his right arm. Andrew was in shock. “What was this thing?” is what his mind asked itself.
Andrew heard a buzzing noise that made him twitch. He was distracted and the Plague lunged at him, swiping his sword in an arc, slicing Andrews arm. He screamed in pain, but he realized “Pain, I feel pain!”
That was strange as he understood that the arm paralyzing was a psychological matter, and he felt confident. He grabbed the sword with his left arm, shaking with fear. He took a clumsy swing at the beast. With his non-dominant arm, he was in trouble. The sword cut through the Plague like nothing, because there was nothing to cut, the Plague just seemed to be air.