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Description
The monk ran through the castle dodging all of the arrows that were shot. The snipers in the watchtowers aimed for him as he crossed over the drawbridge. The church-bell rang over and over, sounding it's deadly, ugly gongs to alert all archers in the small city. The monk rounded the second corner and ran uphill to the next watchtower. One particular arrow howled as it crashed straight down, leading it's target. Only a couple meters away from impaling the monks head, his eyes darted straight at it and it changed course forty-five degrees to the right.

The clouds in the night sky rolled over the moon, leaving the rest of the snipers with less chance of hitting their target. The monk ran at speeds no human had ever accomplished. Even so much as to outrun a horse below the wall with an archer mounted and firing up to the monk. On and on the monk ran up the wall to the top of the castle; the top of the mountain. Thousands of arrows lined the brick walls now. The friar outside the church blessed the monk as he dashed up the castle wall.

Finally, the monk could stop running: he wasn't panting, nor was his heart racing. It was as if he had taken a light stroll in the brisk night air. He faced the mountains beyond the castle and waited for the archers to surround him. They notched the arrows on the bows and stretched the wires. The bows creaked as they tightened. They waited for their commander to take the first shot, or shout a command, or signal the kill in some way.

"Friar Thomas has had his chance to save you, demon. Now, the king has sentenced you to hang by the neck at high noon. You will comply or you will die." The Commander said.

The monk smiled. He was still gazing out at the mountains. Then he spoke. What he said was not uttered in any language the archers could understand. Maybe some kind of Latin or Aramaic. His voice was low, inhuman, and almost guttural.

"Death is only the beginning."

In one swift motion, the monk spread his arms and lept over the wall. When the archers hastened to check where the body landed, the monk had disappeared.

Description
The monk ran through the castle dodging all of the arrows that were shot. The snipers in the watchtowers aimed for him as he crossed over the drawbridge. The church-bell rang over and over, sounding it's deadly, ugly gongs to alert all archers in the small city. The monk rounded the second corner and ran uphill to the next watchtower. One particular arrow howled as it crashed straight down, leading it's target. Only a couple meters away from impaling the monks head, his eyes darted straight at it and it changed course forty-five degrees to the right.

The clouds in the night sky rolled over the moon, leaving the rest of the snipers with less chance of hitting their target. The monk ran at speeds no human had ever accomplished. Even so much as to outrun a horse below the wall with an archer mounted and firing up to the monk. On and on the monk ran up the wall to the top of the castle; the top of the mountain. Thousands of arrows lined the brick walls now. The friar outside the church blessed the monk as he dashed up the castle wall.

Finally, the monk could stop running: he wasn't panting, nor was his heart racing. It was as if he had taken a light stroll in the brisk night air. He faced the mountains beyond the castle and waited for the archers to surround him. They notched the arrows on the bows and stretched the wires. The bows creaked as they tightened. They waited for their commander to take the first shot, or shout a command, or signal the kill in some way.

"Friar Thomas has had his chance to save you, demon. Now, the king has sentenced you to hang by the neck at high noon. You will comply or you will die." The Commander said.

The monk smiled. He was still gazing out at the mountains. Then he spoke. What he said was not uttered in any language the archers could understand. Maybe some kind of Latin or Aramaic. His voice was low, inhuman, and almost guttural.

"Death is only the beginning."

In one swift motion, the monk spread his arms and lept over the wall. When the archers hastened to check where the body landed, the monk had disappeared.