The Immortal Skier
AN: A very short story written in keyboarding about ego and pride. Note: keyboarding. Bad place and time to write ficcies. Enjoy.
I am the unbeatable skier.
Nothing can best my skiing abilities.
I have scored countless points on the slopes for my incredible speed and control. Not even that stupid hot dog snowboarder can out-ski me. Even the freak trying to learn how to ski could never beat me and my skills. I am immortal...
...Unless it comes to that damn werecreature, the abominable snowman.
My horror began one day with another casual skiing of the slopes: setting the trees on fire, running over the weak skiers, violently disrupting the people in the chair lift... Just another day of hitting the slopes. This was my life.
I caught up to some hot dogger at around 1990 meters down the slope. He proceeded to warn me about some abominable snowman another ten meters down the slope, mobbing pathetically slow skiers and snowboarders.
I laughed. "A snowman that mobs slow skiers? I am the greatest skier on these slopes! Nothing can hope out-run me!" I ignored the snowboarder's warning and proceeded down the slope, setting another shrub on fire as I passed.
Ten meters passed. I saw nothing. Eleven meters. Nothing.
Twelve meters. Something on my left moved. I quickly pointed my skis downhill and sped down, challenging anything that would have thought to attack me. Without any sound, the abominable snowman suddenly appeared and ran by me side. I heard his growl, saw his teeth, and felt his thread-thin arms around me.
At that quick moment, I panicked, wishing that I had heeded the stupid snowboarder's warning.
Damn ego. Damn pride.
In the end, I was eaten, digested, and reincarnated on the top of the slopes, ready to set trees on fire, to run down weak skiers, and to disrupt people on the chairlift.
Immortal once again.
Moral of story: Be careful of overusing pride. And if someone warns you about an abominable snowman down the slope, think carefully before continuing.