Lost in The End Part 11: Tyran vs Acrone, the Final Battle for Survival

Part 11: Tyran vs Acrone, the Final War for Survival

The dead of night was coming to an end. The sun would be rising soon, but you could never envision it—as the debris-polluted sky made night almost entirely black. Tremors of panicked sauropods running across the land miles away shook senses, and churning of intense flame from the nearby forest beat like a drum within—but no drum beat louder, faster and more intense than that of one of the last surviving Tyrannosaurus in this region, Tyran. He stood tall, talons’ entrenched in the rocky plateau, yet still hovered three feet beneath his pursuer—Acrone.

There was a reddish-hue to the sky, as though it was the sunlight reflected off the moon attempting to reach the land—yet unable to amidst the clot of debris that took the place of clouds. Drool seeped from Acrone’s maw, creating a thick stream—before separating and dripping onto the cold and flat rocky plateau—leaving a puddle, of which Acrone’s reflection could be seen from. The snout of the acrocanthosaur was young, but grizzled—scars everywhere, one particularly large one stretching from his chin to his neck. Time seem to pass slowly for them—even though it was moving at normal speeds, as they stared into each other’s eyes—preparing for the inevitable move. Tyran lifted his lips up to bare his tyrannosaur teeth, all of which were 7 inches long—and blunt, built to skip bleeding and break the bone directly.

The young rex’s hatred for Acrone was present in his glare—his brow furrowed, teeth shown, vocalization a low-rolling rumble that would send chills down anything’s spine, and feet firmly spread apart to ensure maximum mobility. All his life he has known Acrone, dreaded him ever since he attacked his parents—and now, at the end of all things here in this wasteland that was once a thriving beauty—they meet, for the final time. This atmosphere, was quiet; the clouds rang with the sounds of nothing. Nothing. No winds to wisp, no rain, no thunder, no lightning, nothing. This world was entirely quiet—perhaps because it was exhausted after a fateful battle that took a place a mere four hours ago, when a young Tyrannosaurus rex and Spinosaurus decisively won the future. But Tyran, nor Acrone, nor most of the wildlife in this area knew or cared about the battle that took place.

Their future, and the future of the world had been preserved—but a personal battle was taking place here. A battle that did not decide the future of the world, nor anything. One that decided simply who of these two animals were to continue living; Tyran, or Acrone. Tyran lifted his leg up and moved it forward, his foot folding like a book as he held it in the air—before flattening like a pancake upon hitting the ground—leaving a deep imprint in the flat plateau, and sending rocks and dust into the air with a loud thud. His footpads bled from the incessant walking he has had to endure during this 1 week journey, only having slept a total of 36 hours out of the entire week of nightmares. Tyran was exhausted, drained, but knew what he had to do whilst Acrone—was another story.

His whole life, this fifteen-foot tall Acrocanthosaurus, one of the last of his entire species—has had to endure pain, and suffering. At the age of six his parent acrocanthosaurs abandoned him, leaving him to fend for himself for the entirety of his life—him now being the ripe age of 16. His mate had been killed in a stampede not too long ago, and now once again he was all alone—albeit it in a hell. His stoic face bears the allure of a grizzled veteran, to which he is, but his young age and trauma contradict this story he tries to tell. At the base of this acrocanthosaur, is a lonely orphan—who has been left to his own devices and now, has to survive an apocalypse no beast could have prepared for.

He attacked Tyran’s parents in an effort to acquire a meal—but he attacked them nonetheless, and injured them deeply—also leading to the deaths of Tyran’s young siblings at the hands of small predators. Acrone’s need for sustenance does not supplant what he did, and what his actions led to happen. There are two stories to this fight, with neither side truly evil; one jaded, and one pure. I don’t know how this will end.

Acrone moved forward, raising to his maximum height—looming three feet above Tyran, who also reached his zenith in height at 12 feet. The two lifted their lips and bared their teeth hissing at each-other, saliva launching from both their maws as their present rage seemed to echo forever—and all could feel it. Pterosaurs in the skies above perched themselves on the highest hills and trees and watched from afar, whilst Acheroraptor and Thescelosaurus watched from holes and hollowed-out logs at-least a mile away. The sky began to grow slightly brighter, yet a soothing chamber of light did not enshroud the plateau—but a cage of blood-red clouds, only brightened by the bleeding fractals of photons that desperately tried to reach the land, yet were corrupted upon touch.

Tyran stood at the edge of a ravine, some 60 feet deep—not worried about falling over as his gaze focused on Acrone, who met it with an equally fierce retort. They stared into each-other’s eyes, Tyran’s sapphire blue scleras and irises coming to meet the dark-green ones of Acrone. Acrone’s tail swayed back and forth, as did Tyran’s, and their blood pressure raised—pumping faster with every second. No knees were buckling, no fear could be felt within these two titanic bodies built to survive. Only the internal beating of their hearts, growing ever so faster as their will to survive amplified their pride. Beat. Beat. Beat. Beat, begin. Tyran lunged at Acrone, his mouth wide open as he moved to clamp onto the acrocanthosaur’s snout—but failed. Acrone dodged to his right, evading the bite and countering with a swift and well executed ram into Tyran’s torso.

The Tyrannosaurus stumbled and nearly fell over from the ram—but that would not be enough to get him on his knees. Tyran utilized the momentum, swinging to his right and slamming his tail to the left straight into Acrone’s face. Acrone moaned in tremendous pain, a loud crack coming from his maw as bones snapped into place and blood sprayed out from the sheer force of the swing. The acrocanthosaur nearly fell over, but maintained his stance—looking back over to Tyran with his mouth agape—but his stare wouldn’t last long, as Tyran was already there; the rex swooped his head down, before swinging the bony crest of his scalp up with enough force to destroy 10 inch thick steel straight in Acrone’s mandible.

Acrone bellowed in pain once more, and utilizing his long arms sliced Tyran on the face—blood dripping down his claws. The tyrannosaur opened his maw, releasing a grunt of pain as Acrone held onto his face with tremendous pressure—not letting go. Tyran shook his head rapidly, trying to break Acrone’s grip—but to no avail. The Acrocanthosaurus riposted Tyran’s strike, retaliating with a direct slam of his mandible into Tyran’s snout—nearly breaking it in two with the blunt force. Had Tyran been any other theropod, his snout would’ve been destroyed; luckily, he is of the strongest land predatory species of them all.

Tyran fell to the ground as Acrone let go, slamming his head once again into the rock, releasing a pained exhalation as he desperately attempted to get to his feet—but failed to, as Acrone quickly placed his right foot on to the tyrant’s back—holding him down. Tyran bellowed in pain, his eyes closed as Acrone increased the pressure output—delivering it directly to the rex’s vertebrae. Tyran opened his eyes; his vision was hazy and blurred, but he could see one thing clearly…Acrone’s left foot firmly placed in the rock. Not for long. The young Tyrant King used his power to lunge forward mouth agape and clamp onto Acrone’s ankle, tibia and fibula—biting down with almost 1000 pounds of force, unable to reach anywhere near his maximum—but it was enough.

Acrone trilled in agony and lifted his right foot from Tyran’s back, favoring his left leg as he held it up in the air in tremendous pain—bloody gashes serenading the soil with the sounds of trickling blood. Tyran quickly stood up and charged Acrone, slamming into him and knocking the two over onto the ground with a massive crash—rocks flying up into the air. Flocks of Pteranodon and nearby Aetodactylus bared their wings and chirped loudly—the screeches heard for miles as many took to the skies to get a better view and others fled all the same.

The two squirmed on the ground, yelling aloud in pain as the fall nearly broke their ribs. Acrone’s raised snout opened and closed rapidly, as he struggled to hurl himself to his feet—desperately trying not to fall over on his sail-spine in fear of breaking it. Tyran, with his muscular yet not overly-bulked body effortlessly found his way to his feet—propelling himself back up to stand, as Acrone still struggled. The Tyrannosaurus panted desperately, adrenaline pumping through his body causing him to nearly hyperventilate, but there was no time to waste! He lunged back into the fray, mouth agape and ready to bite down onto Acrone’s neck.

Acrone finally tossed himself over onto his stomach, preparing to lift up, but before he could even attempt—a row of 57 blunt, bone-crushing teeth impaled into his neck. Tyran bit down onto the acrocanthosaurid’s neck and sank his teeth deep beneath the skin and flesh, nearly scraping Acrone’s neck-bone. Acrone yelled and trilled in incredible pain, his eyes closing instinctually as blood seeped, and then poured from his wound—coating Tyran’s teeth a bright opaque red as he ferociously tried to end the fight here—reaching for his maximum bite-force, but only reaching 2000 pounds.

Before Tyran could continue his assault, Acrone pressured through the pain standing up and shaking his body like a wet-dog, knocking Tyran out of the hold and immediately slamming the right-side of his thin and bony skull into the front of the tyrannosaur’s snout. Tyran backed up, releasing a very deep grunt of pain, dazed after the direct hit, but not out of this; Tyran quickly regained sight, just in time to see Acrone charging once again. The Tyrannosaurus rex knew what he had to do. He curled his left leg inwards and spread out his right…now aimed perfectly to rotate with fluid and powerful force.

Acrone charged, his mind-set was on one thing and nothing else—kill Tyran, defend his pride and prove his dominance over the land. Simple as that—but this clouded his battle prowess, for he thought too highly of his own abilities. The Acrocanthosaurus bolted towards Tyran head on, each step shaking the land for miles and causing small craters in the rocky plateau. Focused eyes on both sides, teeth bared on both sides, adrenaline pumping on both sides, something to fight for on both sides, massive hearts pumping rapidly, booming, thundering through the land before…perfection. Acrone leaned his head down low prepared to bite straight down onto Tyran’s face, but before he could—the young Tyrannosaurus crouched down low and begin to spin to his right.

In that split second…in that instant Acrone realized what he had done—he knew the mistake he had made, but there was nothing he could do. The Acrocanthosaurus attempted to pull back, stopping directly in his tracks with a skid—but it was too late; a heavily muscled tail, swung at the perfect height, power and speed—slammed into Acrone’s head pointblank. The tail collided with Acrone’s face, the sheer force and momentum sending him stumbling to his left nigh-unconscious and directly into a massive mound of clay and rock—collapsing the mound to pieces as he fell directly into it, at-least one ton of force landing on the acrocanthosaur’s back.

Tyran went with the force he exerted like an expert fighter, spinning entirely around with his body in a 360 until he came to stand in the same position he had begun in—only this time with a perfect strike to his name—and his enemy down for the count. The cacophony from the obliterated mound’s rocks falling over onto the ground beckoned birds to the skies as they chirped madly, and caught the attention of pterosaurs who had chosen to be abstinent from viewing this battle; yet, so much chaos has happened over this past week since that terrible rock collided with the land, that even a calamity like this does not draw as big a crowd as it used to.

Tyran swung his tail around his legs almost cockily, trilling slightly, as his feet found their footing and he stood tall once more. The once large rocky-mound was now a pile of pebbles and dust, and had taken with it the great-beast Acrone Acrano—apparently, for he was no more. The dust settled, and the trilling and cooing of terrified beasts silenced—but Tyran’s rapid heart-beat did not. The young rex blinked a few times, snarling as he raised his lips to show his teeth, before settling, and walking towards the pile of debris—some soot coating the portion of dark-green feathers on his back.

Each foot followed its sibling, right then left, right, left, right left…cratering the ground with each step as the earth struggled to contain the massive weight of this tyrant theropod. His tail swayed from left to right, stiffening as Tyran finally reached the debris, and leaned over to sniff what remained. Just soot and the smell of rocks and clay—yet something was off; there was breathing…as though something was prepared to—no. The rocks and dust launched into the air as Tyran stumbled back from the shock, covering his face to avoid the dust. Footsteps rang through Tyran’s head as fear closely followed, and he finally turned back to his right to see a nightmare.

Acrone stood once again, his foot lifting up before crashing down upon a large rock of debris—shattering it to dust as his eyes remained fixed on Tyran. The Acrocanthosaurus continued to look upon the tyrannosaur, rolling something around in his mouth, before opening his maw and spitting it out—a 5-inch long and 3 inch wide serrated tooth falling to the ground alongside a pool of blood. He looked at the tooth for a moment, before turning back to look at Tyran, almost smiling with his grizzled snout—as though he was giving Tyran the impression that his strike was solid, but not enough. The Tyrannosaurus rex stepped back, his mouth agape and body struck with fear as Acrone inched towards him at a moderate pace—having respect for Tyran after that strike.

Respect is one thing…survival is another, and the failure of that strike to seal the deal would spell the victor in blood. Acrone lunged at Tyran as the rex attempted to dodge but failed to in time, his snout held shut by the longer and taller maw of Acrone—who sank his sharp, serrated teeth deep into Tyran’s skin. The tyrannosaur couldn’t even yell aloud in pain, he could only feel it inside as he struggled to escape—violently shaking his head, but much to no avail. Acrone swung his head to his right and let go of Tyran’s skull at the same time, preying on the young rex as he stumbled with loud thuds that echoed into the sky—before being blotted out by the chirps of faraway pterosaurs. Tyran attempted to rebound mid-stumble, swinging the tip of his tail towards Acrone, but that trick wouldn’t work twice; Acrone opened his mouth and closed it around the young Tyrant King’s tail.

Tyran bellowed aloud in tremendous pain as Acrone backed up and yanked with his maw, pulling Tyran to the ground as he nearly tore off the tip of his tail. The young Tyrant King fell to his knees, cratering the ground with a loud thud as he strove to rise once again—but was met with the force of Acrone’s footpads pressing up against his vertebrae with every attempt. Acrone trilled a roar of dominance, swooping his neck down low and clamping onto Tyran’s neck—lifting him up by it and tossing him into a pile of sharp debris. Everyone of the 50 rock fractals sliced, stabbed and poked Tyran’s flesh—causing blood to stream and paint the ground red as the juvenile rolled from his right ribs all the way across his back and onto his belly in a complete 360.

Tyran coughed, more blood coming to spray across the ground in polkadots as his eyes became blurry—and his instincts ran cold on what to do. Acrone loomed over Tyran and kicked him with his right foot, impaling his sharp talons into his sides—pulling them out as they were covered a maroon-red. The Acrocanthosaurus was relentless, bending over and scraping his serrated teeth along Tyran’s back—scraping off large patches of his dark-green feathers and replacing them with scars and more of the red-liquid, as he clamped onto the back of his neck once again and hurled the tyrant to his feet—before tossing him over again.

Tyran bellowed a deep guttural grunt of pure agony as he was hurled down a small hill, tumbling down it—ribs breaking, and small bones cracking as his brain rattled in his head down the rocky slope. He collided with more sharp rocks on the ground, struggling to breathe as the pain was unbearable—but still…with all of this pain that would make anything give up…he persevered. Lifting his feet up and attempting to stand he fought against the end, if he was going to die it would not be a coward’s death—he was to fight until the bitter end, for that was all he had left, and all his parents ever taught him…wait, yes! His parents, that was why he had been searching through all of this nightmare alone, his parents—they were gone, missing.

They had taught him so much in the three years of his life, and they had been so gentle in their care yet now—he didn’t know where they were, and all he had left to survive on was the will he was born with—the will of his bloodline. Not now, even at this end of days at this end of everything—he would not quit here. His pride lay here, in this war. His life lay here, in this battle. Acrone reached the top of the hill slowly, taking his time and savoring every moment of Tyran’s suffering as he remembered his own and adored seeing another feel it. His slightly risen back from his sail-spine cast a shadow that blotted out what little light lit the way for Tyran, the fleshy-covering of the sail-spine enlarging the shadow more than it would have been otherwise.

Tyran looked up at the beast, blood dripping from his gaping maw as he panted—preparing himself for more, but the time to prepare was negligible—as Acrone stormed down the hill and slammed his skull into Tyran’s knocking him to the ground once more. Tyran’s face rolled across the clay as his body went numb…nothing moving—no feeling. Acrone motioned towards him…for everything knew—this was the end. Each foot shook the land as Acrone stood above Tyran, watching what remained of the first beast to ever land a direct strike against him. Tyran’s eyes opened faintly, as he felt just the slightest hint of feeling return to his limbs…his mouth barely moving, his heart barely able to pump. The Tyrannosaurus looked at Acrone from the ground with his right sapphire-blue eye, before closing it, and rolling himself back over to his feet.

His legs trembled, and his lips shook from shock—as he coughed and winced, slowly raising up to his feet, his knees buckling every so often. Yet…miraculously, this juvenile tyrannosaur stood once again—nothing left but will in his form as he closed his nearly broken jaw and stared into Acrone. There was a massive gash on the right-side of Acrone’s snout…and that was all Tyran need to know in order to ascertain he could win. He would fight until his body no longer moved, and then fight more after that…for his naiveté was innocent and beautiful, and everything but him on this damned battlefield knew—this would be the end of the young Tyrannosaurus rex.

Tyran stared into Acrone’s eyes, before tightening his body and raising his neck up as he released a deafening bellow—perhaps proclaiming to the world in someway, “I’m still here.” He lunged at Acrone…with everything he had left. He desperately strove to bite down onto something on Acrone, stumbling as he tossed his neck towards locations he could barely see and attempted to clamp down—but only tasted air. Acrone backed up, acknowledging the will of this beast, and allowing him to use up the last of his power in this final assault. Tyran’s knees buckled and he fell to them, rebounding quickly—and almost drunkenly charging Acrone, his mouth agape as he aimed for his neck—yet failed with the faintest dodge from the acrocanthosaur, sending the rex plummeting to the rock.

Tyran’s mandible bounced up and down as it took the full force of the fall, going numb as it practically cracked—blood dripping from Tyran’s mouth as he closed his eyes and went out cold. Acrone watched, his mouth closed, some blood sliding down his back, neck and lips; he admired Tyran…in a way, yet at the same time did not—for he was the first to ever hit him in such a clean strike. The Tyrannosaurus rex’s eyes opened, as his life nearly ended in that moment—and he teared slightly, not from sadness but just his body not even sure what to do with itself.

Was this…it? Is this where it ends? All of this journey this, coming of age story, is it going to end like this—with no fanfare for this kid that has been through so much? Tyran couldn’t feel his toes or fingers, as his arms hung with no motor function, and his mandible hung—him unable to close it. This…Tyrant King though, still clung to life—rising once again from hell to the heavens, to face Acrone. He’s come this far, at the age of three he’s done far more than most will do at adulthood. Remember the Tyrannosaurus Tyran, as he makes his last stand—in this final battle.

Acrone stood still, breathing in faintly as Tyran looked at him. One breath, a final gaze, the last assault; Tyran closed his jaw and charged Acrone for the final time. The Tyrannosaurus rammed into Acrone, knocking the acrocanthosaur aside as he quickly turned to his left and clamped onto the back of the dinosaur’s neck—in more pain than Acrone as he desperately forced his body to bite down. Acrone was barely phased by the negligible bite-force Tyran was able to use, groaning slightly, before stepping on the tyrant’s left foot with his left and rolling his neck underneath Tyran’s maw—shoving him a way with a fierce head-butt.

One of Tyran’s teeth almost dislodged from its resting place, but the rex payed no attention to it—ramming into Acrone once again as he desperately put up an offensive, but to no avail. Acrone began evading all of Tyran’s attacks, dodging, ducking and backing up—eager to see all that Tyran had to offer with the last of his will. Tyran continued pressuring Acrone, biting ferociously at random spots—keeping Acrone on his toes as he assaulted him with meager, but rapid attacks.

The two fought into a very rocky field of the plateau—continuing to combat each-other, and Acrone beginning to get weary as the tyrannosaur’s assailment was unending. Mid-assault, Tyran noticed a particularly jagged rock lying in the field…his last chance. The Tyrannosaurus clamped towards Acrone’s right jaw, the acrocanthosaur missing, but in the instance as Acrone struggled to rebalance his body—Tyran lunged down to the ground, clamped onto the jagged rock, and hurled it up—slamming it into Acrone’s maw. The rock shattered to pieces from the sheer force, as five of Acrone’s teeth fell out, and half of his snout was covered in blood.

Tyran’s neck hung slightly, as he panted heavily and looked at Acrone as he backed up in unbelievable pain and shock. Two clean strikes. Acrone snorted, shaking his head to knock off pieces of debris from his head as blood streamed down his face and to the ground. The battlefield was quiet, and the usually active pterosaurs ceased their chirps and trills—as the land lay still, and silent. Acrone slowly lifted his head up to stare at Tyran. Two clean strikes, and not another. This is where this story ends. Acrone charged the weakened Tyran. He clamped onto his snout, taking the rex off-guard as he sank his serrated teeth into his maxilla and mandible before pulling back, leaving bloody gashes along the rex’s snout. As Tyran struggled to rebound, his eyes closed, Acrone lifted his skull up to his upper-left and slammed it down diagonally to the lower-right directly into Tyran’s. The rex nearly went down from that blow, clinging to life as Acrone clamped onto his neck.

Acrone mercilessly sliced Tyran’s neck, almost breaking it—before shoving Tyran aside towards the edge of a mesa-like hill they had stumbled onto, the drop easily fatal. Tyran had nothing left, no power left to reach for. Acrone repeatedly rammed into him, slamming his head and then clamping down onto his neck and body parts in vicious combos. Tyran’s jaw hung again…his will failed him. Acrone, the better fighter, clamped onto Tyran’s snout for the final time, digging his teeth in. The Tyrannosaurus let out a final moan of pain, losing consciousness. Tyran looked up, to see the end. Acrone collided his snout into Tyran’s, ending the battle—as Tyran fell to the ground to his left, lifeless, bouncing slightly as he hit the rock, cratering it.

Acrone loomed over the young Tyrannosaurus rex, another notch on his veteran belt. He smirked slightly, respecting the animal and his ability to go toe-to-toe with him. He would never forget him, for all time. Acrone turned away as Tyran’s body lay on the rock—off to new territory, as a new beast.

Part 11 end...