Chapter Three: Taylor. Terrible Smells Don't Speak Well

Here is Chapter Three of Evils: The Other Four by DarkCyberWolf.

Terrible Smells Don't Speak Well
Maybe my troubles began when a weird girl gave me a toy sword. Or maybe it was when I encountered the big guy. Or, maybe it was when the whole town took on a nasty odor. Since the smell happened first, I'll start with that.

The town smelled nasty. I can't even describe it. Try taking Brussels sprouts, leave them out in the sun for a few weeks, cover them in (used) kitty litter, stuff them inside a basketball player's sock, and spray the whole thing with a skunk. You might come close to the smell.

I was walking with my hand under my nose for protection when I saw her. She noticed my smell-shield and looked at me. "You smell that?"

"Yeah," I said. "How could anyone not?"

She looked around nervously, as if worried we were being overheard. She took a sword from her pocket - not a real sword, but one of those foam Nerf-type things. "Here, take this. Use it if it starts to smell worse."

Before I could say something like "Um," she disappeared. I looked at the sword some - an awesome weapon. That's when the already nasty smell grew even worse.

Standing near me was this huge, hairy guy who sniffed the air. "Noolev leero," he said, or at least something that sounded like it. Then he saw me and came rushing.

I barely had time to react. He smashed a huge fist toward me, which missed by a few millimeters. I remembered what the girl had said - use the sword if it smelled worse. Well, this guy certainly smelled nasty. I held the sword in my hand and swung it at the big guy.

Not even close. It sort of hindered that the sword was like four inches long. But, somehow, dark red blood oozed from the big guy's chest, as though the sword had actually struck.

Clearly, the big guy just thought it was a fluke. "Not be defeated by puny Tyr child! Circle snake strong!"

This guy needed work on his English skills.

He jumped at me, perhaps hoping to crush the life out of me. Instead, more blood came from his back, as though he'd been stabbed clean through his body.

He coughed up more blood until he disintegrated in front of me. "Good work," the girl said, and I realized she'd been watching me. "That weapon really suits you. Now it just needs a name."

I held the toy sword in my hand. Only now did I see that there was a second blade, longer, thinner, and sharper than the first. So thin I didn't see it before. This is what had stabbed the big guy. "How about, like, Hidden Strike or something."

She smiled. "Sure. Falinn Verkfall is a great name. Before you ask, that's Hidden Strike in Old Norse."

Not exactly what I'd asked, sure, but still. Falinn made it seem like a vicious slayer. And Verkfall just sounded wicked.

"So, you gave me this weapon and I killed ... whoever that was. Just tell me - who are you and what do you need from me?"

"My name is Layla, third of the warrior class of Thor. And, if what the troll said is true, you must be part of the warrior class of Tyr, god of warfare. A gift from one of the Norse gods is pretty much the only way to see trolls, as well as other monsters. Therefore, what I need is for you to come back to Ný Ragnarok so that both of us can survive."