Make Me Feel Again ♕ Geralt Of Rivia

seventeen .

G E R A L T

High pitched screeching echoes through the hallway of the abandoned castle. I've already made first contact with the Striga- a fucking ugly looking thing. It had broken through the iron chains I'd brought with me in an attempt to keep it contained as if it was a thin piece of string.

Ostrit has probably fallen prey to the creature, not that I particularly gave a shit about what happens to him. But now that I lay here, one floor below where I originally was, having broken through the stone floor above to keep myself from meeting the same fate as my fellow Witcher who was laying in a salt-filled coffin in Triss' lair.

I push myself to my feet with a grunt and glance out the window. The impact of falling down a floor had knocked me out briefly and the sun is just starting to peek out by the looks of it, though it's hard to tell considering how dark it is down here.

Creeping silently around the area, careful not to startle the Striga, I make quick work of sealing off the entrances to the room.

Blinking a couple of times to let my eyes adapt to the dark, I try to track the Striga's movements without drawing any attention to myself.

I hear a loud shriek right behind me just before the Striga knocks me off my feet and into a pillar behind me. I feel the air leave my lungs from the impact of its attack as I try to fight the princess off- a challenging feat, considering that I've lost my sword in the midst of falling a storey down.

The Striga makes a break for the exits immediately, but my wards withstand its savage attacks. The shrieks it lets out are ear-numbing and I try to drown them out while keeping an eye on the creature as I reach into my pocket, pulling out an iron knuckle- my last resort.

Since the goal is to not hurt the Striga, fighting on the defensive makes this all the more challenging.

Growing frustrated with not being able to escape, it finally turns its attention on me. I brace myself for the long battle ahead as the Striga lets out a loud cry. The Striga creeps forward towards me, wailing and screeching.

Just as it lunges towards me, I notice a ball of smoke manifesting itself between us. The air around us grows colder and I feel the bite of it as it prickles against my skin as it grows bigger, slowly taking shape until it looms over me. A Ker, right before my very eyes.

Its glowing red eyes set its sights on me, staring right at me as if they could see into my soul, and I guess, in a way, it could.

Then, as if it'd deemed my soul not worthy enough for its claiming, it snaps around, its eyes set on the Striga- two monsters face to face.

It was hard to tell which one would make it out alive, but there wasn't a doubt in my mind which I would be willing to sacrifice if it came down to it.

Dark tendrils of smoke wrap themselves around the Striga, but still, it doesn't stop its attack, clawing and throwing itself at the Ker, not stopping till it gets the taste of blood.

The smoke slowly starts to encase the Striga like a blanket, draping itself over every inch. Just before it manages to completely encases the creature, the Striga screeches, tearing itself from the Kers' clutches, sending the harbinger of death rearing back into the wall behind it.

Its black form starts to dissipate, before it reappears behind the Striga, its red eyes piercing through the dark space.

The two monsters clash against each other, meeting each other in the middle in a battle to the death.

I stay back, prepared to intervene if need be. I know better than to put myself between two creatures known to leave nothing but death in their wake.