Leroy's Writing Space

It was a day like any other in the village of Little Midtown, give or take a few cows. Farmer Higgins was rather upset to find that his small herd had become even smaller during the night. Theft was uncommon in these parts, and for much of the morning it dominated local gossip, at least until lunchtime. That was when miners from the nearby quarry burst into the town square, as fast as their legs could carry them. Doubled over in town square, they had quite the story to tell.

Something was in the mine, they said in-between breaths.

Something terrible.

It was eight, no, ten feet tall. It had claws like razors, or short swords and eyes that glowed red, or a dark shade of yellow. The tale varied slightly depending on who told it. The miner who had the best view of the beast had not returned to talk about it, and those who survived him, mostly by running faster than he did, gave many conflicting stories about the horror that had befallen them.

There was one thing they could all agree on. There was a big monster, deep within the Little Midtown mine. And it was a big problem. The village depended on the mine’s ore. It was quickly decided that something had to be done. The monster had to go.

A militia was quickly formed at the mine’s entrance and disbanded shortly after. One ferocious growl, echoing from the mine passageways, was more than enough to send the villagers into flight. They regrouped, a few miles away, and decided that something had to be done. Preferably by someone else.

“A professional,” declared the Mayor. “We’ll hire a professional! Post fliers to every noticeboard in the county. A bag of gold to whoever slays the mountain beast.”

Heads nodded enthusiastically. A professional would do it! Someone well versed in the art of monster slaying would rid Little Midtown of this beast. The fliers were drawn up and the word was spread: One hundred gold pieces for the head of the Little Midtown Mountain Monster.

The response was immediate, and promising. Monster slayers, bounty hunters, mercenaries and adventurers poured in from all over the region. The best of them left soon after. The rest were not so lucky.

“Fear not good people!” said one adventurer. He smiled wide as he hefted a huge longsword over his shoulder. “I’ll have this beast in a snap!”

The village watched him disappear into the mine. They heard a snap, alright. Several, in fact. They also heard a scream, a shriek and a ripping noise. Then they didn’t hear anything.  

The bounty posters stayed up.

The next to enter was a young woman, who wielded a long bow over her back. “Trying to take on a beast with a sword?” she snorted. “Amateur! Let me show you how a professional handles this.”

She checked her quiver, tied her bowstring, and entered the mine. The villagers listened carefully, but couldn’t hear the sounds of battle, or anything else really. After a few minutes, the young heroine came back out. Her quiver was empty. So were her eyes.

“I’ve just remembered…” she said quietly, “… that I’m leaving.”

She left Little Midtown twice as quickly as she had entered it.   

Another dozen adventures visited the town. Three of them lived long enough to leave again. None of them slayed the mountain monster. Just as the villagers were about to lose all hope, there came one morning a most unusual sight.

A little girl, all on her own, save for a small backpack. She marched into town and made right for the Mayor. “Is this Little Midtown?”

“It is,” said the Mayor, a little perplexed. “What brings you here?”

“You have a monster. I’m here to slay it. Is there is there still a bounty for its life?”

“You?” The Mayor looked the little girl up and down to confirm that, yes indeed, she was simply a little girl. “You want to take on the Mountain Monster?”

“If it pays enough. One hundred gold pieces, right?”

“Yes, but…”

“Splendid. Where is it?”

“Now just one moment,” blustered the Mayor, “who are you?” 

“I am Emily Priggs,” said the little girl, “Where is the monster?”

“In the mine, just down the path,” said the Mayor, “but… hey! Wait!”

The girl was already gone. She marched down the down the pathway, towards the mine. The Mayor tried to call her back, but she didn’t listen. The townspeople did, however, and soon the Mayor had a small crowd following him as he followed Emily Priggs. Everyone and Emily was soon standing before the mine entrance, the villagers keeping their distance. They all wondered what the little girl was going to do.

 “Surely, she’s not going in?” said one.

“If she does, she’s certainly not coming back out,” answered another.

Emily took no notice of them, instead studying the mine’s entryway. “Is this the only way in?”

“It is,” said the Mayor. He had to cup his hands around his mouth to speak to her. “But you can’t seriously expect us to let you…”

“And the monster comes out every night?”

“Yes, every night,” said the Mayor, “and snatches a pig or cow, not that we’ll have much of either soon enough.” What would happen when the livestock ran out was of serious concern to the locals. “But all the same…”

“I have a solution,” said Emily. “But first, I need a reassurance.”  

“Assurance?” The Mayor shook his head. “What kind of assurance? What do you need to be assured of?”

“The payment conditions,” said Emily, “one hundred gold for whoever kills the monster, right?”

“That is the deal,” said the Mayor.

“And how the monster dies is of no concern to you?”

“None at all, I suppose…” said the Mayor. Neither he, nor the townsfolk, could understand what possible difference it could make. “But…”

“Alright then,” said Emily. She drew a hatchet from her pack and, to everyone’s horror, marched straight into the mine.

No one made a sound as everyone strained their ears to hear the tell tale signs of battle. The keenest of ears might of heard a faint thumping noise, but nothing more.

“Is she actually fighting it?” said someone.

“If she is, she’s doing a damn good job,” said someone else.

“How can you tell?”

“It’s been a few minutes, and she’s still going.”

“Quiet now,” said the Mayor, “something is coming.”

Everyone shrank back at the echo of approaching footsteps, but it was Emily Priggs who emerged from the mine. She was alive, albeit a little dirtier than before.

“All fixed.” Emily dusted her hands.  

‘What do you mean?’ was what the Mayor was about to say, but the collapse of the mine shaft entry drowned him out. “What have you done?” he said instead.

“I weakened the supports of the mine, and they have collapsed,” said Emily. “The entry is now blocked, and there are no other ways in or out of the mountain.” The townspeople were silent. “In a month,” continued Emily, “or so, you will have your mine back.”

“A month?” said the Mayor. “Why a month?”  

“That’s how long they take to starve.”

“You’re going to starve it?”

“No, the hunger will.”

“Well, I mean,” the Mayor didn’t quite know what to say. Part of him was appalled by the idea. “It’s hardly heroic.”

“It’s not heroic at all,” said Emily, “give me my money.” The Mayor didn’t do this readily, so Emily continued. “Do you prefer theatrics or your mine. I could dig it out again for someone to kill properly, if you would prefer.”   

Within ten minutes, Emily was on the road again. She was one hundred golden pieces richer, and Little Midtown had their mine back.

THE END