Alex’s Last Meal (deleted scene from Hinterland Legends, Book 1: Alex Ascending)
It was an epic feast. The scent of one hundred different dishes fought for attention from Alex’s olfactory nerves. It was a feast for the eyes as well. The massive banquet table was barely visible beneath the food resting on its top and seemed to almost bow under the weight of it. In front of Alex sat a towering stack of steaming apple flapjacks glistening with sugar and savory spices. Peeking out from behind the cakes was a roast adorned with vibrantly colored vegetables, fresh herbs and a dark brown gravy that made Alex’s mouth water. To the side of the roast sat an enormous bowl of bright red strawberries. Each one at least twice the size of Alex’s fist. He couldn’t believe his eyes. . . He loved strawberries! He grew them in his garden at home, but they never seemed to grow any bigger than his thumb. From somewhere he caught a whiff of roasted yams and maple syrup; another favorite. It made him nostalgic for Thanksgiving at home with his family. He looked for a seat on the rough wooden bench—it was a crowded table—and found a spot, although not quite wide enough, between two bizarre creatures.
To the left of the space was a tall, thin, grey-skinned, four-armed being with one eye and two mouths, both filled with too many jagged teeth; its four arms working overtime piling food into its ravenous mouths. To the right of the narrow open seat was a dingy-white furry creature that resembled a dog but sat as tall as a bear and had arms like a man. It wore the ragged clothes of a warlord who had long ago lost his army. Alex wasn’t sure which was more intimidating, but he did know he was hungry enough not to care. The over-sized dog growled lowly at Alex as he pushed his way into the seat. He noticed that the furry thing had several bracelets on each wrist, each dangling a small chain from it. The bracelets—wait, no, handcuffs—had worn away at the fur, leaving red abrasions in its place.
This was no place for a fifteen-year-old boy, all of 100 pounds of him standing at not quite five feet tall. He glanced from the giant dog’s powerful wrists to his own; thin and bony. One might even think frail and weak at first glance.
A spread like this should have been one of the most joyous occasions of Alex’s young life. And it would have been if not for one little problem—it was to be his last. In fact, it was the final meal for every one of the dozens of occupants of the enormous table.
Alex brushed his wavy chestnut brown hair out of his eyes and reached for a strawberry, which he clutched in his hand like a baseball. It had been so long since Alex had eaten that he didn't even mind when his first bite into the sweet soft, flesh let loose a stream of sticky juice running down his chin, dripping onto his shirt. He quickly devoured the fruit then tore off a chunk of roast with his hand—since no utensils were in sight—and gnawed at it hungrily. The tender, savory flesh fell apart in his mouth as the rich, smoky meat flavor danced on his tongue, accompanied by a wonderful flavor bouquet of clove, fennel, garlic, onion and sage. He carried on eating as much as he could until he was nearly full, being sure to stuff as much extra food as he could fit into his pockets as well. For his last delight, Alex chose a golden-brown bun which was covered with an avalanche of powdered sugar, a sprinkling of pecans, and drizzled with honey. As he leaned his elbows on the table to get hold of the treat, a giant furry hand covered his own. The canine creature clearly had his eyes on the same dessert. Its ugly face entered Alex’s personal space and uttered a deep, guttural grunt as slobber dripped from its pungent, sloppy jowls onto the table.
“Rude!” Alex exclaimed.
“Mine!” the beast answered, its voice hoarse and booming.
“I don’t think so, I saw it first!” Alex couldn’t believe the words coming out of his own mouth. Not one week ago, he would have quickly backed down to one of his peers over something way less important. He was sick of backing down though, even if this is one time when any observer would say that he most definitely should swallow his pride and let go of the dessert. . . even though there were at least twenty more of them on the table.. Something inside of him would not let him cave, though. A new, overwhelming urge to confront any challenge and not yield no matter how dire the circumstances.
Alex felt his bones strain as the furry hand began to tighten around his. The dessert was smashed and falling apart between their fingers, yet they fought on over this inconsequential treat. A metacarpal bone in Alex’s hand snapped. He yelled out in agony and tried in vain to pull his hand back as hot tears streamed down his cheeks. The beast stared at him with death in his eyes. Alex was now seriously regretting his misguided bravery in this possibly-mortal quarrel over a baked good, yet still he felt a profound drive to continue the woefully mismatched fight. Just as he thought he would be pulling a skin-bag full of bone fragments, of what had a moment ago been his hand, the creature's grip suddenly went limp. Immediately after, the monster itself slumped and fell backwards to the ground with a thundering crash. Alex clutched his injured hand in anguish. A cold sweat formed on his brow; he felt dizzy and nauseous from the pain. On the other side of the now-open seat, he saw a girl. She was a plump young woman with alabaster skin, sparkling emerald green eyes, full pink cheeks and a gently sloping nose, which was round at the tip. Long auburn hair tied into two thick braids draped all the way down her leather-clad back. She winked at Alex and quickly concealed something sharp into a long, narrow pocket on the left thigh of her leggings. Alex mustered a weak smile and a nod through the pain and managed to get out a labored “Thank you” to the girl who, even in his tortured state, made Alex’s heart swoon at the mere sight of her.
But let’s back up a moment. How did our hero find himself in this predicament? How did a puny, once-timid child of fourteen short years end up facing off with a deadly, ferocious dog-man in a strange land? It all began in the woods behind his grandfather’s house. . .
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