Evil Awakened
Tony Lavoie 

Defeated, they fled from the field where their foes

Slaughtered still. Never song would be sung of their deeds;

The battle was lost. Beyond the bodies of blood

Kin and friends did they flee; they were few and forlorn.

Deserters they weren't, for the captains were dead.

No hope did they hold that they’d haul through alive.

So they fled with their lives still their own, little more.



Grey rain as they ran mired the earth round their feet.

To the hills they escaped. Harbor there did they find.

In a cave, damp and dismal, their breath did they catch.

Four they were, and forsaken. No friend had they left

On their enemies’ home. They’d be hunted and killed.

So they feared, but that fate would not be, for the future

Held fortune unknown: yet great fear they would feel.

But for now they did stay, gathered strength, and took stock.



Their starships destroyed, their weapons were drained,

Power packs depleted, plasma armor they shed,

Dead weight it now was, no more help to the weary.

Dark was the cave, dread and dim were their hopes.

Torches they made, trees nearby gave their timber,

Flowing oil from the ground fueled the fire of their brands.

In light cast by the torches the cave they explored.

Far it stretched, gently sloping, and slick with foul slime

That abounded; with their embers great care they thus took,

Lest spark set the grease ablaze.



Then a pit they espied,

Deep and dark, dismal, damp. Steps descended its wall.

There they conference did hold, care to take, for their cave

Would be found, and their foes would then enter and finish

The fight; forward their only escape down the pit.

So said the First Officer, Wolfram of Earth.

No coward, he craved battle-corpses to make.

Not to run but return with reinforcements he vowed,

To eradicate the evil infesting this world.



But Saesrith Sea-Strong, Centauran and swift,

To foe-slay she desired, if their strength would allow

Before grim death claimed them, to delay not the battle

She begged, so that song would be sung of their slaying.



“No tale will be told,” said old Taleric tale-spinner,

Sirius-born, renowned singer of songs.

“No battle-tale ours - who will be left to sing?

We may glory win ere our gore stains the ground,

But no one will know of our deeds. None remain.

Yet downward may also be death--God decides.

Our fate will befall, whichever path we now follow,

But no chance at all have we hope of behind;

Forward only our hope falls, be it faint and far off.”



Then Wolfram spoke, saying, “For me this shall be:

I downward will go, death will dare, or escape.

Not one of you there will I force. Seek your fate,

Beside me below or by blaster behind.”

So saying, he swiftly descended the stair.

Not one stayed behind; they desired to be free,

But an army they weren't, that too well did they know.

To retreat first their plan. To return strong their goal.



Dark their descent, the light dim from the torches,

And slippery the steps were, slime-coated, unsafe.

Slick pitch the slime seemed, and the stench of it sour,

Making stair-travel treacherous. Slowly they went

Till at last they reached bottom, there breath did they catch.



A room there below, the walls blackened and burnt,

Smooth and circular stone there surrounded them soundly.

On the floor lay black puddles of pitch. Wolfram prodded

One such with his fire. In a flash it took flame,

Orange fire turning blue, flaring up in their faces.

The flame-heat reached out; they retreated a step.

Blue it burned for a time, back to orange then turned

Ere it dwindling died.



“Do not drop your torch,”

Droll Wolfram decried. No desire did they have

To do so. So great care did they take with each torch.



A doorway they spied, into darkness it led,

But the light from their lamps lit beyond it the way.

A road then revealed--straight it ran through the rock.

"This is thus now our path," said Orion's son Tharbold.

"This road will we roam, till its end do we reach.

Straight and solid it runs," said brave far-seeing Thar.

Then the chamber they fled, setting fire to the fuel.

So their foes would be foiled; none could follow them now,

Nor our heroes escape. Their sole exit they closed.



A long time did they travel, their trek made them tired,

But then stopped, of a sudden in stupor, wide-eyed,

For a city they spied, reaching spires to the ceiling

Of the vast and wide cavern they now ventured within.

Long dead but once living, now lifeless and falling.

Made of plastic and rock, plexi-steel and cold plasma,



Hope sprang in them then, for the city held promise,

The technology old but the time not too ancient

To discourage a search for a slug-thrower, or else

A lost blaster and power packs, or live plasma armor.

Thus armed could they ambush their enemy's lines

Once the flames died behind them, their foes then pursuing.

But though thorough their search, not a thing did they find.



Hope removed itself then, but the road straight ran on.

With the city behind, barren tunnel ahead

They trudged through the gloom. But a terror they woke

In the buildings behind, ancient beast now reborn

From age-long cryo-sleep--evil dark, alien-made.



Four arms and six legs, with each slaying-limb tipped

By three plasma-hard claws, arrow-sharp, primed to kill.

Armored body, serpent neck, but more sinister yet

Was its head, human-like, with deep hate in its eyes.



Keen night eyes did spy them; their scent it knew well.

Thus stirred, it moved silent and swift on their trail.

Created to serve, many centuries before

To work in the mines of this world, airless pits.

Strong as steel, made to serve, but it severed its bonds.

On its masters it turned, tearing flesh from tall bones

Until trap it they did, with cold-temperature beams.

Then they buried it well--never would it awake.

So they thought.



But the thanes of three armies, escaping

Beneath the dead world, broke its slumber, woke beast-hate

And hunger and madness. Thus with malice now followed

The creature, its soulless eyes cold, with great care.



Bone-tired, they camped in the tunnel, their torches

Burned low, and no oil-leak lent fuel for their light.

From the shadows surrounding flew death in a swipe

As the beast took brave Tharbold, red blood bathed his shirt.

His dire screams awoke them, his death they did glimpse.

Then silence descended, Orion's son lost.



"These tunnels are haunted," said Taleric a-tremble.

"Some evil new enemy empties our hope.

For soon in deep dark will our torches depart us.

Haste now we must make, ere our murders we meet."



"Then we flee while our light holds," said Saesrith, still weary.

"And we trust hunger sated to leave us in peace

For a time, but this tunnel must end soon, or truly

We are lost with our brother. Heaven help us to live."



With dim torch-light to guide them they took to their heels then

But soon heard behind them the sound of the beast.



Through their heart-pound they heard it, the throb of its limbs

On the floor of the tunnel, fast-moving and fierce.

But hope lit their future--a hole found to freedom

Surrounded by stairs that ascended its walls.

A twin to the entrance, a circular stair-pit.

The torches then failed them, good fortune that was;

For knee-deep they floundered in foul black oil-pitch.



But a spark still in Wolfram's lit torch stayed, not stopping,

And Wolfram, high-holding the wood overhead

Then hurried the others before him, high-climbing

His task now, the beast to entrap down below

In the flame-pitch; his spark would set fire to the fuel.



But Taleric fell, his tale-weaving thus ended.

His body was broken by baleful-eyed beast.

Then remorse for their friend the survivors felt keenly;

Far-reaching had Taleric's fame so run free.



Setting claw upon stair did the creature start climbing.

With a look of pure venom did Wolfram let torch fly.

With a roar of revenge did the flames rally oil.

With a cry of defeat fell the creature, afire.

High the blaze burned around it, and bitter its cry

Filled their ears with foul pain, before flame bade them flee.



The heat drove them skyward. The smoke teared their eyes

Until finally, wearied, forlorn but now free

Did both Wolfram and Saesrith at last see the sun,

And before them, its hull shining brightly, a friend-ship.

Down the ramp reinforcements then ran to their rescue--

Regulan friends and Orion’s brave fighters.

Thus were they saved, though their losses felt strongly.



Cannon blast sealed the hole, then they boarded the ship,

Sped over the peaks, enemy pin-bolts ignored,

And blasted the cave there, not kenning the creature--

Once the fire died around it, its wounds healing fast--

Made solely for mine-work, would worm its way free.


Note from the author: It should come as no surprise to those familiar with the epic poem Beowulf that Evil Awakened was directly inspired by that masterpiece. I have read several translations of Beowulf, both prose and verse, but my favorites have always been those that made some attempt to maintain both the alliteration and the rhythm of the original. I have made the same attempt here, little realizing when I set out on this road just how much effort would be involved. I hope, therefore, that you will forgive the occasional line which falters in regard to alliteration, or doesn't quite maintain the meter of the whole. I welcome any suggestions the reader may have to improve any line in the poem. -TL

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About the Author:
When not writing alliterative epic verse about evil alien monsters, Tony Lavoie writes science fiction and fantasy in prose form. His short stories have appeared here at Digital Dragon Magazine and at MindFlights. His first novel, The Ballad of Scabbard Pete: On the Seas of Hell, is currently available for a limited time as a free eBook at PaperGizmo.com.

 Tony can often be found hanging out at ChristianWriters.com (his username there is LavoieA), or, feel free to follow him on Twitter.  Incidentally, the PaperGizmo.com site mentioned above has lots of additional information about Tony, his writing, and his other hobbies. He'd love to know what you think of his stories.  (He'd also like to stop referring to himself in third-person, but he can't have everything, now can he?)