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The Iceman


“We must move now.” Otzi said waving his arm signaling the others gather themselves. “But we have just got our first share of the beast, wouldn’t you like some?” Otzi looked at the slaughtered deer, it’s eyes frozen in fear as it had died. “Just a handful, they’re gaining on us.” He replied looking into there trail, there were only nine left of there clan. They had been tracking them for a month now, after Otzi’s men had killed one of there children in a brutal battle over food. Otzi dug his rotten teeth into the bloody muscle of the deer. He looked into his trails once more, only to see small black dots on the tip of the horizon. “Put out the fire!” He yelled gathering snow to smother it. The men looked up at him from their meal, and paused. “There coming! They’ve caught up!” Signaling to the horizon. They jumped up and tossed there meat into the dark woods. “Get your weapons, clear the area we can’t outrun them now, we must attack.”

“What are we to do with the rest?” One of the young men asked pointed to the half eaten deer. Otzi thought circling around and stopped at the sight of a cliff. “Leave it.” He replied with a smile. “Everyone! Up there! Quickly, by the time the sun reaches the tops of the trees they’ll be here.” They all began to run, with a hundred pounds of gear with them. “On the ground!” Otzi exclaimed. He rapped himself with the woven grass coat and waited with the others. “What will happen when the see the dear?” One asked Otzi. “You will see.” He replied. The cold snow pierced there bare legs. They continued waiting, finally the sun reached the tops of the trees. “Draw your arrows.” Otzi whispered to the others. The other tribe appeared. Otzi fired the first shot, missed his target which appeared to be the leader and hit a young boy in the chest. He fell to the ground, blood staining the snowy white blanket. They all began to fire, hitting woman children and all.

The Iceman

Otzi signaled two of his men to follow him into the woods. The three carefully dropped down the rocky mountain and landed safely at the bottom. The remaining men of the tribe were well into the woods, so Otzi and his men followed. They finally came to an opening much like the one they had made the ambush at, there was no one in sight. Suddenly they heard a horn, a deep below coming from the ridge of the small hill side to the right of them. An arrows rained down from the hill side, the enemies had a plan of there own. One pierced Otzi’s shoulder, he howled in pain and fell to the ground, his head hitting a large rock beside him as he fell.

Blood poured from both of his wounds, Otzi dug his thumb into the arrow head trying to expel it from his body ripping out hundreds of veins in the process. Suddenly a huge boulder came hurling outward from the cliff, the two men jumped out of the way in time. But Otzi could only stare helplessly as his death approached him. With several cracks the boulder hit the ground. Blood spraying 3 yards from the impact. Otzi had died, and his men thought in silence before rage took them. One of the men snatched Otzis knife away from his now even colder hands. They charged up the cliff mercilessly slaughtering every living being in there path.

The rest of the enemy clan had fleed, they had lost 14 men, woman, and children. They had three wounded which they had abandoned. Otzi’s tribe gathered around him, set down his blood soaked knife, and the two arrows he had killed the enemy with. They gathered up the wounded enemies, lined them up against trees. And took turns shooting them in the head. They gave these people to the Gods so that when Otzi joined them he would not be alone.