Data and Magic

The wait was both frightening and agonising, with the running footsteps getting louder and louder, combined with the noise is snapping twigs and rustling leaves. Whatever was running his way, made no attempt to hide it and was in a full-on sprint towards William. With what felt like minutes, William continues to hold the branch tightly, waiting to swing it with all his strength at whatever was running at him, wishfully hoping to knock it out in one blow.

Suddenly, a creature burst from the undergrowth, screeching as it charged. It was small, barely reaching his waist, with mottled green skin and large, pointed ears that twitched nervously. Its beady black eyes, filled with malice, were fixed on William. It wore a tattered leather jerkin, more patches than garment, and wielded a crude club – more like a thick stick, really – with surprising ferocity. A wave of recognition washed over William, despite the surge of adrenaline that flooded his system. Though this was the first time he had ever seen such a creature in the flesh, he knew what it was. In his many hours spent devouring fantasy novels during his youth, losing himself in worlds of magic and monsters, he'd read countless descriptions of creatures just like this. Small, malevolent, and often found in forests, lairs, or ancient ruins, they were almost always referred to as goblins. This creature, with its green skin, pointed ears, crude weaponry, and undeniably hostile demeanour, fit the description perfectly. It even resembled the illustrations he'd seen in some of the more lavishly produced editions. He'd always found a certain escapist pleasure in those stories, a way to momentarily leave behind the rigid logic of his data-driven world. Now, faced with a real-life goblin, the reality was far less appealing.

The goblin lunged, swinging its club wildly, its movements jerky but surprisingly quick. William reacted on instinct, fuelled by adrenaline and his enhanced physicality. He sidestepped the attack, the club whistling past his ear, a near miss that sent a fresh wave of fear through him. He swung his own branch with all his might, connecting with the goblin's arm with a solid thwack.

The creature yelped, a high-pitched, almost comical sound, its grip on the club loosening, but it wasn't enough to knock the goblin out. Far from it, the goblin was relentless, driven by a primal aggression that seemed out of proportion to its size, a ferocious intensity that belied its diminutive stature. As if it wasn't injured at all, sustaining no damage from the earlier attack on its arm, the goblin came at him again, faster this time, its beady eyes narrowed in fury.

William parried another blow, the force of the impact jarring his arm, sending vibrations up to his shoulder. He was stronger, yes, but the goblin was agile, a creature perfectly adapted to this environment, and surprisingly strong for its size. He danced back, trying to keep the creature at bay, using his longer reach to his advantage, circling, looking for an opening.

William knew that the longer this fight dragged on, the more of a disadvantage he would be in. The goblin, having constantly lunged in for wild attacks, wasn't even out of breath, it looked like it would just keep attacking till it wore William down. William on the other hand, while appearing to have the upper hand, was fast running out of stamina and already panting heavily. Knowing he wouldn't be able to last much longer, William swung the branch towards goblin hoping to strike a decision blow. 

He managed to land another blow, this time on the goblin's shoulder. The creature stumbled but didn't fall, its momentum briefly checked. Any animal who had been hit twice and hurting all over, would normally think twice about immediately attacking again and more likely to considering running away with its tail between its legs. But the goblin is anything but normal, taking a moment to steady itself, it snarled, its eyes burning with fury, a low growl rumbling in its chest, it prepared to jump into the fray again despite its wounds.

Then, in a flash of movement, the goblin darted forward, lower this time, feinting left before lunging right. William was caught off guard, reacting a split second too late. He felt a sharp, searing pain in his left leg as the creature, instead of using its club, bit down hard. The bite was hard enough to draw blood, William feeling a warm liquid oozing down his leg.

He cried out, more in surprise than agony. It was like being bitten by a small, rabid dog. He stumbled backward, losing his balance and falling heavily to the ground, the breath knocked out of him. The goblin, still latched onto his leg, began to thrash its head, causing more damage to the wound, trying to tear into the flesh like a wild animal.

Panic surged through him, raw and primal. He had to get it off. He raised his branch to strike, but hesitated, momentarily stunned by the ferocity of the attack and the warm blood soaking through his trousers, staining the forest floor a dark, crimson red. This momentary pause, a flicker of indecision in the face of brutal reality, gave the goblin the upper hand. With a snarl, it released his leg and launched itself upwards, aiming for William's exposed throat, its crude club raised for a final, decisive blow. Its eyes gleamed with what could only be interpreted as triumph, as it prepared to deliver the killing strike.

Knowing the next attack from the goblin could be the end, William struggled with all his might, managing to push the goblin with the branch from an awkward angle causing it to roll over and away from William. However, it was but a moments reprieve, as the goblin quickly got up and raised its club preparing for the next attack knowing that its prey was on its last legs. As William got up, he knew that things looked grim, and that his next move might be his last, but he didn't give up, he wouldn't give up, he needed to think quickly to give himself the best chance to survive in this cruel new world.