Originally published in Old Moon Quarterly, Volume IV.
She sheathed her sword in the scabbard on her back and dug her bleeding fingers into the grooves of its scales. Pulling herself up, she gasped at the stab of pain in her bruised and fractured ribs. The scales rough against her calloused and torn flesh but she climbed, digging her toes into the spaces between scales. Blood flowed from the beast like a river, but its body still breathed. She climbed a mountain of flesh, the surface rapidly expanding and contracting.
She panted along with its great body as she climbed higher and higher into the thin mountain air. The sun bright and hot but threatened by rushing clouds. The wind ripped at her tattered cloak and battered straw hat, both fastened round her neck. She dug her fingers and toes in, held her breath while pressing herself tight against the warm body of her kill. Blood dried beneath and inside her nostrils and every breath was agony.
Standing on the beast’s great chest, she limped towards its head. A landscape of undulating flesh beneath hard scales and soft feathers. Sputtered lungs and a hammering heart beneath her feet rattled her body. Staring down at its enormous snout, at the jaws that could hold her body a dozen times over, she swallowed hard and exhaled loud. Her body swelled against the tears and cuts and bruised bones. Her steps came light and her head flooded with images of what would greet her at the mountain’s base.
“Human,” its breath burst hot from its panting jaws, its voice deep as the roots of the mountain.
“I’m here, monster,” her voice like tempered iron.
It laughed. Losing her footing, she groped for balance in the shifting, dying body. She pulled her sword from its scabbard, the black metal scorched by the great beast’s blood. Gripped in one hand, her other hand spread wide for balance, the sword’s weight causing her shoulder to scream in hot weariness.
“Human,” its voice crashing like thunder against her ears. “Why have you come?”
“To kill the mountain monster.”
Laughter came like an earthquake, convulsing the giant body. She tumbled and rolled to her feet while stabbing her sword into its chest. The laughter transformed into a howl. “You foul little monster!” the beast’s voice shattered. “I dreamt of this day and of you, caustic pest! You once shouted my name in joy and worshipped me as your god! You once sent your priests to me as sacrifice! How long has it been? The moon lies to me from this high.”
Using the sword as an anchor, she stood again, “The gods don’t die.”
It snorted, “Say my name.”
“We don’t name monsters.”
Laughter rolled from deep in its deflating chest but only came as a long drawn exhale, “It’s been so long. You’ve all forgotten. Forgotten who you were. Your dawn was my twilight and the sun’s been setting for so long. So very long. Even the mountains only crumble now. I hear it. Its bones creaking, cracking, and turning to dust tumbling down to the earth below.”
Her brow furrowed as the beast spoke. Its long jaws clacking and its tongues fluttering to make human speech. Dozens of eyes stared up at her while dozens more stared off into the sky, to the mountains near and far. Its two huge blooded tusks protruded from both sides of its jaws. The horns caught the sunlight and flashed in rainbowed colors. The wind ripped over its enormous body, dragging against her tiny human form and the bloodheavy clothes she wore. Lightning blinked far away and thunder clapped against the darkening sky as the sound of distant rain crashed.
“Tell me,” she said.
The beast’s heart slowed beneath her feet and its lungs filled with its own blood. Its voice wet and thick, “They called me Oklololompo. Hundreds of your short lives must have passed under that name. Then I was only Lompo for a hundred more. Now you tell me I am nameless. Only a nightmare for the descendants of those who worshipped me so long.” It coughed and spat blood. “Tell me, human. Tell me your name.”
“Vinshya.”
“What does that mean?”
Vinshya pulled her cloak and straw hat tight against the blustering wind, “It’s only a name.”
Oklololompo snorted and gobs of blood flew into the air, “You have all forgotten.”
The rain came in sheets, battering against Oklololompo’s flesh like a thousand drumming mallets. Vinshya pulled her hat lower and sat on Oklololompo’s chest, hands still clutching her sword hilt.
“Human,” Oklololompo shouted against the storm. “Kill me if that’s your task.”
Vinshya counted Oklololompo’s breaths as the storm raged past them.
“Human, are you still there? I see nothing but the dark.”
“Say my name,” Vinshya shouted.
“Vininsiya,” Oklololompo said through gasps.
“Close.”
“What joy is there in watching me die?”
The rain ran in rivulets from her straw hat. Her eyes closed, she focused on her breathing.
“Tell me, Vininsiyaya. Tell me what they say of me.”
The cracking lightning was the only response.
“Please, cruel killer. My life is yours. Only tell me. Or kill me. End this pain. I had never known such pain as this. Not only my body. But death. I see the darkness crowding my vision and I want to run. Flee. Escape. Escape this darkness. This pain in my soul.”
As quickly as it came, the storm drove past them, leaving them wet and cold. The stink of decay already thick in the thin air. Flies swarmed towards Oklololompo’s severed limbs strewn across the plateau.
“Human?”
“They have forgotten you, monster.”
Oklololompo whimpered and convulsed, “You are cruel. What have I done to deserve cruelty from my killer? Is it not enough that you watch as I rot? My deathreek is so strong it’s solid between my teeth. Its taste clogs my throat.”
The buzzing of the flies, the moaning wind, the whimpering Oklololompo, and the sun peeking through the blanket of clouds. Vinshya stood and pulled her sword free of Oklololompo’s flesh. Blood oozed from the wound and clung to the black blade. She flicked her wrist, a slash through the air, sending the blood from the blade.
Now clean but for the scorch of the blood, she gripped the hot blade with her free hand. “You will die and I will watch you until your hearts and blood no longer live.”
“Coward.”
“To kill a god is to curse oneself.”
Oklololompo laughed raggedly, “I thought I was only a monster.”
“All gods are monsters.”
“What will you do with my body?”
Vinshya cocked her head to one side, “I lied to you before. That’s not my name but it’s what I’m known by. It was given to me by people very far from here. Across the mountains and the ocean. My name is Laioa. Its meaning doesn’t matter but it is beautiful. Like you, the name given me is who I have become.”
“Before I was Oklololompo I was still me.”
“But you were a different you, just as Laioa is not Vinshya.”
Oklololompo’s gasps were wet and bubbling in its chest, “Humans.” It snorted. “Word games.”
Vinshya said, “You’re no longer Oklololompo or Lompo. You’re the monster of the mountains. The demon of winter. The nightmare of mountain children.”
Vinshya covered her mouth and nose with her cloak to block the pungent stench of death. The flies buzzed and the wind calmed.
Oklololompo sneezed a spray of blood into the air, “Tell me something beautiful, human. Let me know beauty before I die.”
“No.”
“Cruel. So tiny but so cruel. I will die with only the memory of your sting and the severity of your words. The horror of your eyes watching me bleed. Is that why you remain?”
Vinshya sheathed her black sword, “They say the gods see the future in their final moments. That those who hear them will see where their road ends.”
Oklololompo’s voice came weak, “I see nothing but the darkness. I have no future to give you. I would curse you but I can’t seem to care. You are cruel and small and your curse is to be human. No, there is only darkness. Everywhere. Death.”
Vinshya jumped down to Oklololompo’s neck. Her feet sunk into the soft flesh until they struck the spine. Oklololompo made a clicking noise and choked under her weight. Standing in the shadow of its immense skull, she stroked the underside of its jaw. The soft feathers and those matted together by blood.
“You were beautiful, Oklololompo. Goodbye. I am the scourge of gods and none will know your story.” Vinshya’s words dripped from her lips as a whisper.
Oklololompo exhaled long and blood flowed from its ears.
Vinshya jumped down to the rocky plateau and limped to its ear. The canal was wide enough for her to climb inside. She stepped in and spoke the meaning of her name.
The sun began its descent beneath the spines of the mountains and she made camp in the shadow of Oklololompo’s dead body. She used its feathers as kindling and ate one of its cheeks as a feast. The powerful stench of its rotting body and the swarms of flies filled her dreams. Her dreams of darkness. Of a road leading nowhere, lined by the dead.
In the morning she made her way down the mountain to collect her reward.