Welcome to this week’s installment of many micro stories, ranging in length from 100 words to 500 words.
With each story we hope to deliver a little whimsy into the lives of our readers.
LAST MAN RUNNING
Erald ran faster than he’d ever run before. His heart was pounding in his chest like some prematurely buried person frantically beating the underside of a coffin lid to be let out.
There was nothing but death in all directions as he jumped over the charred remains of his fellow soldiers. Horses bolted as they tried to escape the remains of burning carts still fastened to them. Supply crates burned and barrels of water boiled while the fabric of the provision tents took flight, singeing into nothing.
With only one survivor running for his life, the battlefield had gone silent, save for the whooping of the great beast’s wings flapping in the air behind him like ship sails in the wind.
The beast inhaled loudly; a sound he’d been educated on in the short-lived battle behind him. He stopped and crouched into a ball on the ground like a hedgehog some child had poked with a stick. The terrible roar of blasted fire unleashed overhead and ahead of him. He felt the heat but was surprised to find himself still alive. When he opened his eyes, there was a long track of flames ahead of him, where he should have been running. The dragon had been a slave to its own momentum and was making a wide turn to correct its miss.
Erald started running again. “What do you want?” he yelled. “You’ve already won.” He began to wonder if the creature had some strict last-man-standing rule concerning battle. Unsatisfied until there was no one left on the other side to contest the victory. “I yield,” he offered, as the red-scaled flying furnace circled around to pursue him again.
His eyes fixed on the edge of the field where the fringe of the nearby forest awaited. Though little more than a great cluster of firewood to the thing chasing him, it would at least be not so open as the terrain beneath his quickly stomping feet.
Another loud inhale had him drop and roll to his side as another fiery trail blazed ahead. This time the creature had to fly high before it could turn around to avoid the tree line. Erald quickly rose again and fled into the cover of woods.
Running between the trees, he felt the ground shake as the beast landed to pursue him on foot. Though young and healthy, he wasn’t convinced his legs or heart could take much more. He needed to find somewhere the beast could not follow. Somewhere to lie low. He spied a ditch, loosely covered in branches and leaves, and curled up within it, covering himself and thanking the gods it wasn’t some trap full of spikes.
He breathed a sigh of relief before the heavy steps of his pursuer stopped nearby. As he groped about the little hiding hole, he noticed a small collection of large eggs, all covered in scales.
“Of all the places to hide…”
At least now he knew why both armies had been incinerated.
Barend Nieuwstraten III grew up and lives in Sydney, Australia, where he was born to Dutch and Indian immigrants. He has worked in film, short film, television, music, and online comics. He is now primarily working on a collection of stories set within a high fantasy world, a science fiction alternate future, often dipping his toes in horror in the process. With over eighty stories published in anthologies, he continues to work on short stories, stand-alone novels, and an epic series.
A discovery writer not knowing what will happen when he begins typing, he endeavours to drag his readers on the same unknown journey through the fog of his subconscious.
If you enjoyed this story you can find it and more in the Hawthorn & Ash 2023 anthology.
Iron Faerie Publishing 
Wonderful ♥️
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