The King's Vault - Chapter 5 - The Memory

If you haven’t read the first four chapters, then please, do so here:

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

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My fingers ached, balled in tight fists. The thud of my heart slammed my throat. Thoughts swarmed like sharks, circling, thick and furious, smelling blood in the water.

I barged through people, returning home from a night on the drink. The moon hung high, casting a rare brightness on the streets before winter. Beautiful, but I barely saw it. Just like the man who I slammed my shoulder into.

“Watch where yer goin’, almos’ knocked me clean over,” he slurred. “Ya hear me? Oi,” he called after me, and his footsteps grew louder in my ears. He tugged my shoulder back and grabbed me, stopping me in my tracks. My eyes met his chest and I crooned my head up. His eyes were as black as pitch, small and beetle-like. They gleamed, lifeless and glossy. A jutting, large jaw protruded out from his face and his nose was large and bent and twisted, like a tree that had survived many lashings from stormy winds.

“Get your hands off me,” I growled, and turned, trying to shrug him off. His grip grew tighter, and he squeezed my shoulders.

“I said, watch where yer goin’. ‘Pologise, now,” he slurred. Ale thick on his soupy breath. I slammed my foot down onto his. He yelped like a dog and felt for the pain. He hopped up and down, and, aiming for the largest part of his face, I reared back and swung, landing my strike clean onto his jaw. Bone on bone. Like I’d strike my hammer onto hot iron. A crack emanated. He groaned and folded forward, hands fumbling and finally clutching his stiffened jaw. He tried to call out to me, but his words were muffled by ale and pain and the inability to move his mouth properly. I stormed off, hands still balled in fists. Fingers aching. Whole body trembling.