It is night in the forest, late fall. What few leaves remain on the trees are fire-red in the moonlight, holding on defiantly even as the chilly wind threatens to cast them to the ground. All things, you reflect, must end — even yourself.
This is not a comforting thought as your feet crunch on the forest floor, the sound echoing in your ears, perked for any threat or sound. This late in the season, most animals have retreated to their burrows for the evening and the air is still. The wind stings your eyes, tears welling up.
You shouldn't be feeling this terror. The thing probably doesn't even exist. Unferth has been skittish lately, ranting and raving about some monster that ate his companions, but King Hrothgar's authority is unchallenged, and he says it's a myth. You trust him, not just because he's guided your clan through worse times than these, but because he's your father.
Something's wrong. If asked, you couldn't describe why, but all of a sudden it's too quiet. Like every leaf and cricket were swallowed up by the darkness, leaving you alone to face whatever it was they're fleeing from. All you can hear is your breath, loud in your ears. You stay like this for a while, body tense, hand on the pommel of your sword. Your brother's sword, while he was still alive. Yours now, the thin blade the only thing that separates you from the dangers of the woods. You stay there so long your legs go numb.
At first you think you're imagining it. The tickle at your nose, a scent that burrows deep inside your head and fills you from irritation. A deep, angry annoyance at its source — a source you can't even see. You've never smelled anything like this before, and the resentment building within you almost makes you sick.
Slowly, silently, instinctively, you adopt a fighting stance. Your sword sticks in its scabbard in the cold, but a gentle wiggle loosens it. The rune-marked steel shines in the moonlight. Tonight, you will make your father proud. Tonight, you'll slay the beast that has been terrifying your clan for weeks. You are Freya, shield-maiden of Clan Geat!
The beast approaches, its feet crashing through the underbrush, its vile smell getting stronger. It exudes from the monster, pouring between the trees, galling you to your core. You raise your sword, ready to strike. Then you hear it — its cry, it's shrill, horrible song, echoing out in the glade. You hear it and all hope leaves you, shrouded in the mist of obnoxious gas.
"EMPATHY, EMPATHY, PUT YOURSELF IN PLACE OF ME!"
Star Trek: Voyager S01E11 — Heroes and Demons
Adventure Time S01E21 — Donny
Adventure Time S01E22 — Henchman
