Michael stood again after being knocked down for the umpteenth time. A quick glimpse over to
the altar confirmed that Mary was gone, where to, he could only guess. He wiped a drip of
blood from his lower lip and picked up his sword that had been knocked from his hand, again.
He turned back to Donald; who still revealed no sign of any exhaustion, whereas Michael was
way past that stage. He got to his knees and then to his feet using the sword as a support.
Donald held his sword down with the tip touching the floor; his free arm hung down by his
side. To Michael, it seemed that all the wounds he had inflicted on Donald were non-existent;
there was no sign of any injury anywhere on his body. Sure the robe had been ripped in a
random pattern of straight lines, but there was no blood. Does this guy have any blood?
Moments later, Donald lifted his sword and sprung forward, Michael did likewise to
counteract his attack. Their swords clashed in another ferocious volley and with each contact
Michael felt his strength wavering even more. He had to think of something fast, because he
could not keep this up for much longer. He knew he should not have tried bluffing Donald when
he lied about knowing who he was, but at least he got his attention away from Mary and now
she appeared to be free and away from the danger. Something inside him smiled, but he could
not allow it to distract him.
Another clang and Michael was forced down to his knees. He wanted to stand back up, but
every inch of his body cried out in exhaustion. He glimpsed at the altar and spotted Mary"s
head bob up and for a split second their eyes met. She was scared. But in that brief exchange,
as he looked into her deep brown eyes, his heart melted just like the day they first met.
***
It had been a clear sunny day in the local park. Mary had been feeding the park ducks, minding
her own business. Michael had just taken his mother"s dog for a walk before work when he had
spotted the most beautiful woman he had ever met. He had not been coy on his approach to
her. Whilst the dog ran around chasing pigeons, he stood next to her and was pretending to
look at the ducks in the pond.
“Fine day,” he said.
Her surprise was clear on her face as she turned her head. From the corner of his eye he
could see her beauty was even more radiant than he had first thought. Her deep brown eyes
were mesmerising and put him under some sort of spell, which forced him to look at her. She
smiled showing the little dimples in her slightly tanned cheeks and a sparkle in her eyes. Her
teeth were perfect and her lips sumptuous, he immediately wanted to just take hold of her and
kiss her. “Sorry?” Her voice was as sweet as honey.
He stammered slightly and had to blink a few times before his brain and mouth worked in
conjunction, “You"re gorgeous,” he said thinking of a million other things he should have said
that would not have sounded as corny. He cringed inside.
She smiled again that same sweet smile and thanked him before returning to the ducks and
finishing off her bread. Michael could do nothing but continue to stare at her, “you"re staring
now,” she said finally, brushing her long black hair back over her shoulder.
“Sorry, I just can"t seem to take my eyes off you.” He wanted to turn away, but could not.
She turned back, “I"m Mary, please to meet you.” She stretched out her hand and waited for
Michael to respond. He did, slowly.
“M…M…Michael.” Her hand was soft and warm. He felt tingles at every nerve in his body.
All he could think about was kissing her forever. Then, all of a sudden, a wave of water from
the pond covered him as his mother"s dog jumped in chasing the ducks.
***
A high-pitch scream pierced Michael"s ears shaking him back to reality. He refocused on
Donald who was charging with his sword raised. Grabbing his own sword with both hands, he
mirrored Donald"s attack. He took a deep breath, and crying out at the top of his voice, charged
with all his might in Black Donald"s direction.
Donald swung hard. The swords chimed and Michael lost grip and his sword went flying
across the room, where it crashed into the wall. Michael felt the pain in his hands. That
momentary strength he had mustered for that final charge was all but depleted. All he could do
was watch Donald recover from his swing and decide what to do with him. He allowed his arms
to fall haphazardly down by his sides and fell to his knees. Pain stung his knee caps. His head
pounded in agony as if Donald was knocking him with a metal mallet. His eyes were burning
like fire and his mouth dry as a desert. His heart ached through strain; a pain that throbbed up
and down his left arm. A brief thought had him thinking he was suffering a heart attack, a quick
death, at least, but sensibility kicked in and he realised it was muscle ache. Sweat and blood
matted his hair and covered his clothes from the numerous wounds he had suffered. It’s alright;
it will be all over in a moment. At least he tried believing that, but knew that Mary would be left
alone to defend herself against the beast, and that made him angry.
He tried to stir up more energy through his anger, but failed. And just as he yearned for
more strength, Donald spoke, “I will not kill you, today. You may still prove useful in the coming
days when I roam this Earth.” His voice was deep and low; totally unrecognisable from the
headmaster"s. Michael felt it pierce his mind as easily as if it were a needle going through
cotton fabric. It made him cringe. He wanted to grab Donald"s voice box and pull it out, but
knew that was not going to happen. He had to admit it, he was defeated. Mary was defeated.
He had allowed Mary to be killed. “But for now…” Michael felt Donald"s clenched fist smash
against his head like a bulldozer hitting a wall.
Michael"s body flew through the air and landed on top of several dead bodies. Raising his
head, he looked around, for what use it would do him! The sword lay on the stone floor,
plastered in blood, not too far from him, but just outside his reach. He had exhausted all his
resources for strength preventing him from moving closer. He felt so very tired.
His eyes were becoming heavy, through the pain and the tiredness. His eye lids began to
flutter shut. He used his last ounce of strength and thinking of Mary fought hard against them.
He was about to lose her forever, he needed to tell her that he loved her.
