When he was a boy, Titus Morgan went on a call with his father who was a volunteer firefighter at the time. It was a car accident involving two cars and a semi that had lost it's brakes. One of the cars had a family in it. There were no survivors in this accident and all Titus could remember was the blood. There was blood on the pavement, on the rock wall next to the interstate, and one of the cars seemed to be painted in it. Through his experience, Morgan had never seen anything quite so gruesome in his life.

Until Now.

Quiet feet slid along the ground as Titus came up to a small outcropping of rocks that made a shallow cave. It may have went back twenty or thirty feet and was tall enough to where Titus could touch the roof with an outstretched hand. He could see the back of the cave so knew he was relatively safe that nothing was inside. Trees had been knocked down and scooted away creating a small clearing roughly thirty feet in all directions of the small cave. The striking feature was the blood.

Blood in all it's shades from the brilliant fresh crimson to a dried and flaked brown were splashed against the walls in horrific displays. Titus had no doubt in his mind that this was where the troll had taken refuge. Bones were splintered and split along the ground as Titus made an uneven path towards the mouth of the outcropping. Marrow had been sucked dry from the bones, a trolls favorite meal, and left discarded along the ground. Skulls dried brown in the daylight and mud (Titus counted twelve) were stacked in a pile next to the entrance as he neared. The stench was nearly overwhelming as he remembered to breathe. The stink of dead flesh, decay, and the swamp mixed to create a stomach emptying odor. He had pulled his P14 out as he grew closer with the XM500 on his back. If the thing was in there he would have seen it by now, but so far he had seen no sign of anything living in the area.

He had followed the tracks from the accident to here, which was a few hours ago. In that time he had heard helicopters above him, spotting one as a major news agency. The sounds of all those choppers overhead in that little stretch of woods made for a good cover of any sound Titus made. Titus had taken his time, checked and re-checked to make sure he was following the same trail. Though the foot pattern was unmistakeable, the Mississippi mud had a way of confusing any tracker. Nonetheless here he was in the direct path of danger. The home of a creature of legend.

That's when he heard it.

The sound made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end and sway. His breathing changed to a rapid pace for no reason as he heard it. It was faint at first but the sound was a low chortling, like what large reptiles would do on Discovery. It was also a sound that you would never hear in the woods of Mississippi or ever again, which meant one thing, the troll was coming back.

Titus moved back out of the cave, taking the same path he took in and then looked down. The rag of ammonia was still on his foot. It was a neon sign as far as he was concerned at that moment. Come on over for a free Titus buffet!!! He bent down and ripped it from his foot, tossing it on the skulls and then took off in an opposite direction than when he came in. He cleared the makeshift wall of trees and then knelt down, nearly on his stomach as he watched the clearing. Titus had seen a lot of things in his time as an executioner, magic, mayhem, murder. What came out of those woods made him question every decision he had ever made that lead him here.

It was well over nine feet tall and was slumped over, moving on all fours like a gorilla. The skin of it was gray and rocky which Titus would later theorize started the myth that they turned into stone during the day. The troll was muscled and humanoid, though it's arms were longer than they should to account for quadripedal movement. It had a hump on it's back between the shoulder blades like most large bears, making Titus believe that a big rig would have a hard time running the thing down. It's eyes faced forward and the mouth extended out into a snout with large nostrils and tusks that protruded up from the sides of it's mouth towards the sky. Titus hadn't seen that in the video, though he confessed to himself that he hadn't gotten that good a look at the face. It was also very male and stank. The smell of death, decay and sheer rot came in waves over Titus as he writhed in quiet agony. He wanted to vomit, smiling was only slowing down that process as he continued to watch.

The troll had come in the same way Titus had. It was dragging something that Titus assumed was a deer, but could have been anything with fur from this distance. It sniffed at the ground where Titus had put his feet. It had caught a scent, more than likely the ammonia from his boot and was following it towards the outcropping. Slowly, and as quietly as the grave, Titus shouldered the rifle and based it against one of the fallen trees. There was a perfect spot, between two of the downed trees with an opening big enough for Titus to slide the barrel through and still be mostly concealed. The troll continued to move towards the outcropping, stopping once and then looking to the skulls, it tracked the smell to the gauze and lifted it to the flared nostrils taking a large breath through the nose, smelling. Titus eyed the thing through the scope, adjusting ever so slightly, once more with quiet and calm. He took in slow breaths, willing his heart to slow down. His mind emptied of everything but what he saw and that was all. As he watched the thing his pulse slowed considerably. That mattered for only a little bit, until the troll let out a bellowing roar and tossed the gauze away, having enough of the smell of ammonia in it's nostrils. The thing batted at it's nose and then leaned forward, knuckles deep in the soft ground, like one of the great apes and let loose another challenging, rage-filled tone that made Titus twitch. In that twitch something snapped under him. That's when the troll looked right at Titus, and Titus finally saw what death looked like.

Titus pulled the trigger.

The Barrett belted out three rounds towards the troll, with the speed of a fully-automatic. At the same time the troll, with speed only equaled by true supernatural creatures, turned and began to charge Titus. The bullets hit home within the troll but with the turn the troll made, the rounds didn't hit center mass. Three rounds of some of the nastiest bullets created punched into the shoulder of the beast, leaving no more than an inch between them. The rounds did there job, breaking off once it hit the rocky skin and tearing, flesh, muscle and bone. In less than a blink of an eye, the troll shoulder had been reduced to a red mass. It still had some fight in it though.

With the strength of a god, the troll grabbed the tree Titus had found refuge behind and tossed it away. The tree took Titus with it as it was discarded away. Titus flew thirty feet before the ground and finally another tree stopped him. His world turned sideways and then upside down as Titus tried to move. Adrenaline was kicking in as he pulled the P14 and emptied the clip at the monster. Each shot he was sure hit, but wasn't sure if they penetrated the hide. He aimed for the eyes and finally the shoulder which was still raw and exposed. The troll roared again directly at Titus which made him waver. Titus's body begged for sleep, it craved it. He was probably concussed and likely bleeding from somewhere, but Titus was moving so he knew there was no major damage. He may have been dreaming though as he dropped the clip and reloaded, moving laterally away from the thing. It was heavily wounded but still up and moving. Titus pointed his firearm once more at the thing and unloaded the weapon. The troll turned with it's strong arm facing Titus, which deflected most of the shots. The creature, one-handed, hurled another trunk towards Titus. This time he wasn't fast enough.

The trunk hit Titus on the top of the head and caused the world to go white for a moment. He shook it off and aimed his gun towards the beast once more. The urge to sleep was just too much though. Titus dropped to his knees, arm still outstretched with the gun hanging limply out, no longer a threat to the beast. His last thought before his mind shut down was simple.

I hope you choke on my balls.