Page 13 of Ragnar

The only thing that seems to faze Ragnar at all is the waning sunlight. He gets closer and closer as the shadows lengthen until he is standing right beside me, his eyes glued to the entrance. I’ve been so worried about finding medicine, I haven’t truly been paying attention to the sounds outside of the store. Now that I have paused, giving up the search? Goosebumps rise all over my body.

The sounds are faint at first, but the more I focus upon them the more I begin to pick out individual horrors. The scraping of something in the parking lot, an occasional grunting noise. A loud crash somewhere in the distance. We are not safe here and now that I am aware of the falling shadows, a sense of urgency fills me.

Opening my mouth to say something, Ragnar shakes his head to silence me. With a flick of his wrist he draws me to my feet, handing me my weapon. Without a word he hauls me into his arms, cradling me against his massive chest. Questions threaten to tumble out of my mouth, but I clamp my lips shut, needing to trust that he knows what he is doing.

We stand in silence for long agonizing moments, his scent enveloping me until it feels like it is seeping into my pores. A snuffling sound from right outside the door sends shivers down my spine that have nothing to do with the cinnamon scent enveloping me and everything to do with fear. Feeling my shivers, Ragnar tenses, his eyes laser focused upon the door.

“I sssssmell humanssssss.” An eerie voice hisses, the sound drawn out until it echoes creepily around me. A squeak of alarm escapes me when I am unceremoniously dropped from Ragnar’s arms. He shifts in an instant, nearly touching the drooping ceiling tiles with his sail as he roars out his rage, his body standing protectively over mine. I'm damn tired of this and it is only day one of our search.

“Interesssssting.” The voice murmurs before my newest nightmare steps through the entrance. Somewhere between a snake and a man, the creature is an amalgamation of the two. From the waist up it is a man with green scaled skin, below the waist it is a snake with a massively long tail that curls as it stops to stare at us. Ragnar roars again, stepping forward to place himself between me and the Naga. This monster I at last have some frame of reference for even though it is not a fairytale creature. It is a very real alien. An alien with its sights set upon me.

Despite the situation, my fear dissipates as I consider the beast before us. He is significantly smaller than Ragnar and his hesitation means he knows it. The tentacled monster before had no sense of self preservation. This one does, which means it is smarter than the last. It may not be bigger, but intelligence can be dangerous. I match the beast, glare for glare.

“I’m not on the dinner menu, get lost.” I shout, hoping to throw it off. Its eyes widen before it grins to reveal massive fangs. Wracking my brain, I try to remember if Nagas are venomous or not, but I didn’t pay attention to Bethany’s many rants about her favorite monsters back in the day. A mistake I am paying for now.

“Who sssssaid I intended to eat you, female? You have other ussssessss and your sssscent callsss to me.” It hisses its words, making me feel icky. Does every monster want in my pants? What even is this? Fear morphs to anger now as I move to stand beside Ragnar. He vibrates his displeasure at me, trying to use the fluttery sensation to warn me back. I ignore him.

“Sorry dude, I’ve already been claimed. Fuck off.” Ragnar emboldens me, giving me the ability to flip off the nasty snake thing. It's not like he can do anything about it.

“Come to me. I would pleassssse you.” He tempts, trying to sound enticing but only comes off as creepy. It makes my skin crawl. Have I been hiding away in a bunker afraid to be eaten, only to find out that it’s a world full of monsters that would fuck me into tomorrow if I’d let them? This isn’t a reality I considered and I’m not sure it's much better. An image of the tentacled thing pops into my mind and I shake myself. Okay so not all of them want my puss, the rest might still want to eat me.

“I’m good. No thanks. I’ll stick with Ragnar.” I murmur, my confidence waning in the face of this newest development. My words only seem to enrage the snake man, his green eyes blazing in the growing darkness as he slithers closer, as if drawn to me.

“Come to me, female!” He roars, his words laced with venom, a threat. Having had enough, Ragnar lunges forward, snatching the beast up in one fell swoop. A scream escapes as the fight commences and I stumble backwards, straight into my ball of floof. Floofy, my cute nickname for the nuisance, yelps before skittering away from the fight. Seeking shelter from the writhing bodies that destroy what is left of the store.

Taking his lead, I follow into the darkness. As a precaution, I pull my pistol from my belt. My rifle is long forgotten in the fray and I don’t wish to die trying to find it. The hissing and snarls are deafening as I escape further into the store. To my absolute joy, a hallway appears up ahead.

Flicking the flashlight on my gun to its brightest setting, I cautiously turn the corner, scanning the darkness. Nothing jumps out at me, and I am thrilled to find three doors in front of me. All of them are somewhat intact, which is a good sign. One is clearly marked as a storeroom and the other two are restrooms. Forgoing the bathrooms with the worst of the doors, I march straight to the wholly intact storeroom door. Cautiously I crack it open, and tears of joy roll down my face as I investigate the nearly untouched room.

As soon as the door is shut behind me, the sounds of battle are muffled. Deep down I know that Ragnar will win but the need to escape the violence has driven me to hiding. Around my feet, Floofy runs in circles, yipping quietly as I step further into the room.

One half is a break room with counters and a sink, and the other half is a storeroom. My eyes light up as I recognize some of the products on the shelves. Resisting the urge to run over and search through them, I move back to the door. Leaning my ear against the cold metal I listen for sounds of the battle.

Only a few muffled grunts come through and then it falls silent beyond the barrier. Intently I try to catch sounds of Ragnar, guilt filling me at the prospect that he could have been injured but there was nothing I could have done except distract him in the cramped space. I did more to help by getting out of the way than I did engaging in the situation. It is a foundational skill taught to us in our training to become a deputy. You don’t always need to be in the fray. Sometimes you do better in the background securing the scene.

“Regreee. Safe?” The words are loud enough to come through the door, pitched so that they would sound like a question. My heart squeezes at the pain I can hear in him, already picking up on the small nuances of his stilted words. The need to see him, to see if he is alright drives me to open the door.

“Reggie is safe. Ragnar safe?” I ask, needing an answer. Self-preservation keeps me standing in the doorway, my barrel pointed down the hallway to illuminate the growing darkness. Floofy weaves between my feet, chirping with worry.

A dragging noise greets my ears, coming towards me. A horrid smell seeps into the hall, burning my nose and my light hits a green tinged liquid that drips from the doorframe. Ragnar’s injuries from his first fight bled green. Ragnar’s blood. The coppery, rancid smell suddenly makes terrifying sense and a lack of answer from Ragnar drives me from my place of hiding. Protection be damned.

Rushing from the hall, I burst into the store and immediately fight the urge to empty my stomach. Blood coats every available surface, dripping macabrely. Any products that were left have been destroyed. My eyes scan the darkness, following my light until they fall upon Ragnar.

Covered in the green blood, he stands above the obliterated body of the snake. No longer in his monstrous form, he is hunched forward. He gulps in air until his body fairly shakes with it. Greedily my eyes scan him, taking in every inch of him. The iron-like fist around my heart lessens when I see no outward sign of injury.

“Ragnar safe?” I ask again, stepping around the mess as best I can until I am standing in front of him. He doesn’t answer me this time either, nor does he meet my eyes. Stepping closer, I angle my face so that I can see his eyes. The fist of fear grasps me once more and I put my hand on his scaled cheek, tilting him up so that what little light remains can shine on his face. His eyes are glassy and unfocused, staring right through me. “Ragnar?” I whisper, noting that he doesn’t act like he hears me.

Floofy joins us, sniffing all around Ragnar and it's then that I realize how tenuous our position is. We are surrounded by blood in a world full of monsters and darkness is falling. Either we move to a safer place, or we both die. An insidious thought whispers through my mind, that I could leave him here. Rid myself of this whole business and live my life the way I have been for the past three years.

I balk at the thought. Though we have been together for such a short time, my life can never go back to the way it was before Ragnar. Something has shifted, something has changed. I still can’t promise that I will become his wife, but I did not lie. We are…we are friends, and friends don’t leave each other to die. Ragnar touches something deep within me that I’m not quite ready to face but I’m also not willing to let it go.

Floofy gets my attention when it begins to whine, sniffing around Ragnar’s hip. Letting my hand drop from his face, I point my light where Floofy is sniffing. Horror makes me gasp. Two large puncture wounds mar his obsidian scales. My light moves to the obliterated body, glinting on the fangs before turning back to my monster. He’s been bitten. Damn it!

A rumble in the distance reminds me of our tenuous position while a river of panic runs through me. We must move. Tears of frustration fill me as I try to get Ragnar’s attention once more, only to be met with that glassy stare. It bothers me to my core. Desperate now, I grab at his arm. The immovable force that is Ragnar jolts forward, stumbling into me with just the one small tug. In his smaller form, he is still at least nine feet tall. I shouldn’t be able to move him at all. It is sure sign that he is worse off than I thought.

Testing it, I move towards the hall and tug Ragnar once more. Just like before he jolts again, his claws scraping across the floor. Little by little I move him like this. Tug, shuffle. Tug, shuffle. Each time we are closer and closer to the storeroom until finally I get him into the hall. Another rumble in the distance makes me jump, sounding far too much like a growl for my comfort.

Crying now, I get behind Ragnar and shove with all my might. He tumbles forward, almost falling to the ground as he stumbles through the doorway into the safe room. Running after him, I wait for Floofy before shutting the door and bolting it tight. Hopefully the scent of all the blood will hide our own long enough for Ragnar to get better. The alternative isn't even worth thinking about.

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