Monday, November 07, 2005

The Monster Fighter

She stood, tense yet relaxed, her hands flexing. She watched them come up over the rise, low moans rising and falling in a macabre chorus. Every part of her was screaming to run straight at them, take them all out in a whirlwind of fire and razor-sharp steel. She primed her wrist-mounted flamethrower and drew the sword from its sheath at her hip, but she stayed where she was. They wanted her to rush in and let them set the battlefield. But she was smarter than that. She may only be five years old, but she'd been fighting monsters since before she could walk.

The gang of the undead came closer, and she checked the seam on her brain helmet. It was securely fastened to her battlesuit, which meant the zombies wouldn't be feasting on her tonight. And if she had her way, they wouldn't be feasting on her parents, either. She spared a glance for the black cat at her side.

"Ready, Loki?"

He looked up at her with a brief, "mow", then began to paw at the ground, anticipating battle.

She hefted her weapons, setting herself in a fighting crouch, and waited. She'd chosen her position carefully, so as to force them to come at her in smaller groups. The location would prevent them from surrounding her, and she would be able to--

The shrieks came from above her, causing Loki to hiss, fur standing on end.

"Vampires," she growled. She didn't look up. Her helmet did more than just protect her brain, it contained an array of sensors that were already giving her the number and positions of the attacking flock. They'd circle a while, letting the zombies tire her out before swooping down for the kill. Fortunately, she'd designed her battlesuit to be impervious to a vampire's fangs. She called it her blood suit. Her daddy helped her make it.

She pressed a button on the handle of her sword and a long wooden stake protruded from the base. She gave the vampires a good look, so they'd know what they had coming. She smiled as they howled in anger.

The first of the zombies made it to her position and she prepared to leap into action. A war cry rose in her throat and she swung her sword in a great arc, slicing the zombie's head in half. She leaped aside, blasting the next with her torch. She raised her sword for another strike and--

"Sage! Time to get ready for bed!"

"Aww, Mom! I'm fighting zombies! And there's vampires!"

"Well, you can fight them tomorrow. It's bedtime."

With a slight pout, she pulled the plastic bowl off her head and dropped her toy sword on the floor. "Oh-kay," she called. She looked down at Loki, smiling. "Fight more monsters tomorrow?"

Loki looked up, mewed, and proceeded to clean himself. Sage took off her leotard, put on her pajamas and went to go brush her teeth.

5 comments:

Chris said...

This one goes out to my little monster fighter, Sage Ember Wichtendahl, who is five years old today. :)

Sar said...

Happy birthday little warrior Sage! You keep your daddy as young as he wants to be. :)

m said...

you know, it's so hard for people to believe that this ACTUALLY HAPPENS to your kid! this is no story, but something that happens on some random monday. happy birthday to my little cupcake, and this is a phenomenal birthday present for her. i hope you read it to her in her new room and in her new bed. she'll love it.

purplesimon said...

Happy Birthday Sage.

A sweet story and I hope little Sage is proud of her daddy.

Reminds me of the best bits of Calvin and Hobbs. I loved that 'imagination' thing and you've encapsulated it well in this short story.

Brilliant.

Kat said...

That was great.

Happy Birthday Sage! Five is a great age.