How Far Is Freedom?

Last time, Ben rescued his pet cockatrice and ran from Monty.  This week, well, since there weren’t any suggestion I’ll make something up on the fly.

Branches snatches at Ben’s shirtsleeves and whipped against his face as he ran.  His hands clamped around his cockatrice.  Sweat dripping down his face and stung his eyes.

Ben slowed.  Gasping for breath, he looked over his shoulder.

No one chased him.

Ben sank to the leaf-strewn ground and collapsed.  He sprawled out in the small clearing and soaked in the sunlight.  Its warmth radiated throughout his tired body.  He closed his eyes.

The cockatrice squirmed in his grip and cried.  It nibbled Ben’s fingers.

Ben swore and released his pet.  “What the crap?”  He glared at the cockatrice.

“He’s finally turned on you.”  Monty glided between the trees like a ghost.

“How long was I out?”  Ben gaped at the old man.  “You weren’t behind me.”

Monty twirled his right hand.  Vines broke their strangle hold on nearby trees and wrapped around Ben’s limbs, lifting him into the air.  “You said I needed to run?”

Ben sputtered.  “You’re a wizard?”

The old man crashed through the undergrowth, heedless of the noise he made.  He stood beside himself.  Snapping a finger, the mirage vanished.  “You’ve no idea what you’ve done.  How long I’ve waited for this moment.”  He grinned.  “A cockatrice, born to a local boy too stupid to kill it.  Do you realize what this creature means?”  He reached toward the cockatrice.

It snarled and flew away, high into the tree branches.

“Fine.”  Monty spit onto the ground.  “This creature can show me the way to the dragons.  Once I find their treasure horde, I’ll be the richest man in the world.  Richer than God.  Richer than Donald Drumpf.”  He shook his head.  “You don’t understand the power dragons have.  They don’t understand.  They waste their days drinking.  They could rule us not simply terrorize us.”

Ben grimaced.  “You’ll never win.”

“No?”  Monty raised an eyebrow.  “I’ve got you.  You’re pet will save you soon enough.”

“Never.”  Ben scowled at the old man.  “I won’t let him.”  He tilted his head back.  “Fly!  Fly far away.  Don’t let him catch you.”

Monty snarled and snapped his finger.  “That was foolish.”

A vine wrapped around Ben’s neck.

Ben choked and gagged.  “Leave…run…I’ll…”  His face turned purple.

Up in the treetop canopy of the forest, the cockatrice warbled.  Its eyes fixed on Ben.  A fly landed near its hind legs, but the cockatrice barely noticed; it tilted its head to the left and studied its master best friend.

So, what do you think will happen?  What do you want to happen?  Was it too short?  Too long?  Too unfunny?

Yep, that’s right.  I’m soliciting comments and suggestions.  I may even use them.  No matter how wacky, zany, nerdy, or weird.  No matter how serious, fanciful, or sci-fi.  It’s a choose your own adventure.  You choose what happens next.

About bkreuch

I like to read, I like to write, and I like to make people laugh.
This entry was posted in Ben's Hen, Humor, Writing and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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