One shot prompt: Geralt thought he had beaten them all, but there's always one last fucking drowner. And today was a bad fucking day for that to happen.
Okay I didn't proof read this so please excuse any grammatical errors. Enjoy!!
Geralt grunted as he plunged his silver sword into the last drowner. It crumpled to its knees and fell face-first into the filthy water.
He sneered at the foul corpse. The scent of rotting fish leaked from its open wound. Geralt sheathed his sword, silently promising it he would clean it before the days end. He wouldn’t be able to handle the stench for much longer.
Geralt sighed as he looked amongst the fallen drowners, searching for any slight movement. But they were all dead. “Good riddance,” he muttered, stretching his neck.
He had only just cleared this area out a few days ago and just when he thought he could stroll through it carelessly, a fucking drowner pounced at him through the thick shrubs. His anger, perhaps it was actually annoyance, had reached an all time high today. He looked up at the rising sun. And it was only dawn. This was already not Geralt’s day.
It was time to move onward. Follow through with his original task. The lovely Keira Metz asked for some herbs that grew in the swamps nearby. And of course, Geralt said yes.
Geralt looked ahead, sensing the herbs were closer than he realized and took a step forward. His foot squished in the mud and sunk further and further. The swamp filth climbing up to his calf.
“This is great.” Geralt murmured to himself. “This is just great.”
He yanked his foot out, the mud clinging to his boot, and stepped elsewhere. His foot began to sink again but Geralt moved quicker. He would run out of this swamp if he had to.
Geralt sensed something behind him and whipped his head back. A bird flew off.
Geralt grunted and turned his attention forward, but the great witcher was too slow. His mud sodden boot clipped a patch of twigs and he sailed forward, the brown water awaiting him.
But he balanced himself with one hand, the warm water seeping down his tunic as he pushed himself upward. Once he was upright and stable, Geralt closed his eyes. Trying to calm himself and lower the boiling annoyance that was beginning to build up too much.
He heard water splash behind him. He shot his eyes open and tilted his head slightly. Waiting for another sound. Suddenly, the smell of fish penetrated his senses, and he whipped around so fast that the ordinary man would’ve puked.
Geralt already had his sword out and the drowner before him screeched, its fins glistening with the murky water.
“Are you fucking kidding me,” Geralt said to the drowner, as if it could understand him. “I thought I killed all of you.”
The drowner screeched again and took a step forward.
Geralt rolled his eyes. “Let us be done with it.”
He wasted no time for the drowner to lunge and swiftly transverse the swampy terrain, partly wondering why he had such trouble earlier, and sliced upward, cutting the drowner in two. Just like that.
Geralt sneered at the drowner as it’s faltering screams felt like heaven against his ears. “Couldn’t even hold up a fight.”
Geralt sheathed his sword yet again and turned around, finally heading toward the herbs that Keira so desperately needed, in her words not his.
He couldn’t wait until he was out of this swamp. He couldn’t bare to deal with another drowner for a long fucking time. The filth that littered their guts had almost even Geralt puking. He would not venture to this area for a very long time. Even if Keira needed something else. She could get it her –
A shriek in the distance yanked Geralt out of his thoughts and he tore his eyes away from the ground, he would not trip again, and looked up. Just on the cusp of the swamp, partly hidden behind the trees was a fucking drowner.
Geralt’s eyes twitched and his lip curled in disgust. He huffed out a breath and stalked toward the drowner, but he didn’t go all the way. He made a sharp turn halfway and waltzed up to one he had slain earlier. It’s head feet away from the already rotting corpse. Without taking away his gaze from the drowner who had taken a curious step out, he kicked the drowners head and it flew through the air.
Geralt didn’t care where it landed, it made no difference to him. Not as he screamed with hours, days, months even worth of annoyance.
The drowner took a step backward, pausing just for a moment, and turned back, sauntering further into the woods.
Geralt sighed loudly, his throat now raw and glared at the swamp.
His nose pricked as he tasted a familiar scent on his tongue. He didn’t even bother looking behind him.
“What was that?” Keira said, her voice filled partially with concern but he could feel the smile on her face.
“I’ve had a bad day,” Geralt grunted.
“I can see that.”
“Why are you here?” Geralt turned to face Keira, her blinding blonde hair a stark contrast to the ugliness around them.
“I needed your help with something else. I was unable to acquire the stone I needed.”
Geralt tried not to sigh. “And why not?”
Keira wrinkled her nose. “Well, it’s holed up in an inhabited cave nearby.”
“What exactly lives in it?”
Keira pursed her lips and in a small voice that only Geralt could hear, said “Drowners.”
