The sword plunged in, sliding through the unarmored flesh like a hot knife through butter. The youth leapt back with a shout of victory.
A vast, clawed hand closed around his waist. "You know," said the monster, as the youth struggled, "there's a reason that spot doesn't get covered with armor. The reason is a secret. You want to know it?"
The youth gasped, turning red, then purple.
"It's because that spot isn't vital at all." The monster popped the youth into his mouth and chewed. "God, I love the video game generation," he said to no one in particular.
The Shoveller Of Widdecombe Ditch (Trad.)
11 hours ago