A clearing appeared after he hurried out of the forest. He gazed upon a small town full of wooden homes and people mulling about. All doing different jobs, speaking, and chuckling. Darak was hidden behind not only shadow from trees, but he was also on top of a hill. Looking down at all this action. He saw a horse-drawn carriage. He took a moment to just watch the citizens of Germany go about their day. He heard some speaking in English dialect, which meant he could go down and interact. Or die trying. His stomach rumbled.
The monster walked into the tavern. Every single patron stopped speaking. All wide eyed, gazing upon the brown, furry beast in their presence. A roaring fireplace sat in one corner of the pub. Darak waved politely to the terrified people of all ages. All are crowded in this extensive building. He put his hammer down in the corner, trying to soften his tough exterior. Darak stood at the bar and rested both hands on the table. No one who was standing at the bar was standing there now.
“Can I get you a drink, sir?” The old, bearded bartender wearing a button-up shirt and a vest cleared his throat. The old man craned his neck, he met the light blue eyes of the minotaur. He had never heard a German accent. He made sure to pay attention extra carefully. “Darak would. Also, food please. Thank you.” His voice was unmistakable. The beast nodded. He was given a mug full of cold beer. “Your meal will be out soon sir, anything specific?” Smiled the bartender. “You choose.” Darak sipped his drink. “Excellent. I promise you’ll love it, good sir!” He rushed to the back area of the bar, heart pounding. Afraid that if he messed up this meal, it would be the last thing he ever cooked. Upon a whiff, Darak’s belly grumbled deeper than before, smelling the scent of meat and potatoes wafting from the kitchen close by.
A woman with a slightly rounded belly and broad thighs took her seat. Fearless of the non-human beside her. “So, what’s your name, handsome?” She smiled as she rubbed the minotaur’s arm. “Darak. Cannot stay long. Looking for human.” He ate his meal slowly as soon as it was brought to him.
The woman frowned a bit. “You mean… you don’t want my services, darling?” She flashed a single, beautiful and large breast at the minotaur, who went wide eyed for a moment. “Darak sorry.” He patted her hand briefly while eating a meaty stew with the other. He noticed an old scar on her cheek. Probably some crazed, sexual maniac had given it to her. “Well honey. I’m Matilda. If you change your mind.” She stood from her seat with a small smile. The woman wanted to kiss his cheek but decided against it. She couldn’t help but stare at the bull. How huge he was, how fluffy. How nice it would be to be held by him. A thin, older man stormed over to Matilda, he came down from a large wooden staircase where rooms could be bought. He gripped Matilda’s wrist harshly. Wearing a black coat. His gray hair was thinning, and his eyes were full of darkness. “You need to stop ogling this beast and get to screwing. Is he a paying customer?” He didn’t attempt to hide his anger in front of the patrons of The Rat’s Nest. He pulled her to a corner roughly and away from the bar. “No, Mr. Wayne. Well, not yet.” She braced herself for a smack across the face. He had hit her many times before. Yet she never got used to the feeling of abuse.
The minotaur’s ear flicked, hearing the shouting going on. He finished his meal, stood up and glared at the old man speaking rudely to Matilda. An orange fire blazed behind him. On either side of the man were two leather seats and a large rug. Matilda’s body looked tense, her eyes read sadness and despair as she felt a lump in her throat.
Wayne felt a shadow upon him. Someone large, tall, and bulky. His head tilted as he met the light blue eyes of a brown minotaur. His muscles flexed, his fists balled. “Can I help you, sir?” He let go of the woman’s wrist, she then hurried away in fear. “You no touch her. Ever again.” The angered bull’s nostrils flared as he spoke in a brooding tone. With one hand he gripped the old man’s jacket and pulled him from his feet. He lifted him into the air with ease. Like he was a doll meant to be toyed with. “You’re not a man! You’re not an animal! What the hell are you?!” He yelled as his legs squirmed. His two pale, boney hands gripped the wrist of the beast. “You leave.” Darak roughly planted Wayne to the ground, he felt a leg muscle tear right below his knee. He clutched the tendon and whimpered. His voice is no longer full of anger, but full of fright and intense pain. “Alright! Alright! I won’t! Just please don’t kill me!” He slowly stood and limped out the door. His leg would hurt for a few days after.
The tavern erupted in cheers as the patrons ran to the minotaur, hugging him and patting his back. The bartender smiled. “He’s been abusing the workers of this tavern for a month! Thank you! You are truly a heavenly being! Whatever you are!”
Darak was a bit startled, but he certainly didn’t mind the attention. “Uh. Okay.” He said as he sat back down at the bar, surrounded by a legion of new fans.
Read Full Story: https://www.wattpad.com/story/333597572-darak-7-night-of-nosferatu
Art by: Ruby Kila
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