The hunted hunter

Damien descended into the dark town, axe clenched tightly in one hand, and a lantern lifted in the other. The light burned low, dispelling the darkness only a foot or two in front of him, but it was a vital tool that would give him a moment's warning before inevitable death rained down upon him. He could smell the iron in the area - the putrid smell of aged blood, spilled and mixed into the mud beneath his feet. The beasts that had invaded the town had been hard at work, slaughtering the citizens. He had some work ahead of him to repay their actions.

Cautiously, muffling the sound of his footsteps through the use of bandaged feet, Damien advanced along the streets, knowing that his lantern and its light would draw attention to himself. Though he could not see the monsters he had to fight until they approached, they would be able to see him far in the distance. This was the reason he wished to dampen the sounds of his steps - not to hide his own approach, but to make it easier for him to hear the approach of his prey.

Claws scratching against the stone of the buildings were what he heard first. Giant birds, scrabbling at the stone, knowing there there were a few more pieces of meat on the inside just out of reach. The windows had been shattered many moons ago, sealed up during the day with new brick and concrete, then covered with wooden slabs in hopes that by the time the birds clawed through those, the concrete would have dried. It had taken a few attempts to get that to work.

When he heard the clawing stop, accompanied a moment later by the single flap of wings, he knew there was at most fifteen seconds before those claws would be around his torso, tearing into his skin and turning him inside out in an instant. He stood still, waiting for the first thirteen seconds. Then he swung his axe hard, up and over his head, and just as he saw the claws appear in his light, his axe bit into the beast's gut, and its blood spilled over his body as the corpse fell uselessly to the ground.

He had to pull out a second match to relight his lantern after the blood extinguished its flame. He was almost thankful that the first beast he encountered had covered him so fully in blood. Its scent now masked him, and as the countless beasts that remained in front of him approached, they may hesitate or slow as they approached and smelled the blood of their brethren on him. Not because they recognized that he had slaughtered one of their own, but rather because the scent suggested that his meat was gone and without worth.

He wiped the edge of his axe on his pant leg, removing some of the blood that ran along it. He wanted to ensure that it would keep making clean cuts. Otherwise, his blows could be the one slowed. And he didn't have time for hesitation if he wanted to make a dent in the hunt.