Here's a little story I wrote for my English Class. Sci fi stuff... here you go...
The twin moons Phobos and Deimos stared down upon him as he dashed across the ruddy sand, flying with his feet and leaving clouds of dust with each footfall. Behind him, creatures of an age long forgotten pursued, almost leaping across the tall dunes, and kicking up greater clouds of dust with each bound. A few times, he caught a glimpse. A long thin tail. A pallid carapace. Long limbs. A crooked beak. He was coming across a flat space, there would be no safety, but it was his best chance for survival- he couldn't face them in this terrain. He heard the sand being kicked up from behind him as he slid down the last dune and ran into the open. He drew a metallic white object reminiscent of a stave- the sole thing on his being unsullied by rust, wear, or some sort of damage, including himself. With the click of a switch upon the stave, a bright light flashed from one side, then returned and solidified into a glowing blue mass in the shape of a halberd's head, distorting the air around it with it's heat, and in response to a flash of movement, he held it straight ahead.
One of the pursuing creatures came to a rapid and violent stop upon the glimmering head of the weapon, it shrieked and flailed it's limbs as it sunk onto the blade, mottle green fluid poured out, hissing and bubbling on contact with the blade. The stray swing of a claw scraped his face, and he yanked the weapon from the creature's body before it even stopped moving, as blurs of pale white jumped to and fro around him, each positioning to form a rough circle around him. When they stopped, each one in the open- a pale shape in the dim light of the Martian night, he swung his weapon about, shouting like a madman in an attempt to scare them off, as the single injured creature ceased it's twitching at last, it's body contracting into an unnatural stiff curl. They converged upon him at once, three of them, each with speed too great to properly focus on.
The first to reach him attempted to grab the halberd and rip it from him, a grave folly, for the metal upon the pole was of such perfection, that the beast's claws merely slid down and met their mutilation upon the blade. With his weapon free almost as quickly as it was ceased, a simple thrust seared into the creature and claimed a second kill. From behind, a gangly limb clutched his leg with a force that pressed the muscle painfully to the bone, and sent him to the ground. The claw dug into the calf and rent the flesh, and yet he rolled onto his back, and in a move of desperation, brought down his blade upon the creature, the glowing axe-head of the weapon sunk into it's head, and a single hush of green fluid popped, then oozed out, as the final creature lunged, bringing it's arm down upon the shaft of the weapon itself-snapping the pole in to as the glowing blade evaporated.
It was upon him, intent on tearing him to pieces with it's jagged beak, it beat upon him furiously with it's forwardmost arms. In a moment, it seized hold of his head and took aim for his throat, when with all of his strength, he took the broken end of his now sparking pole, and plunged it into the soft flesh where it's bottom jaw met it's neck, the creature shook, a spasm sent through it's entire body as it hissed and gurgled. For a few moments it continued, before ceasing all movement, then falling limp upon him. With a deep breath and a grunt, he shoved the creature off himself, and struggled to lift himself back up, succeeding despite his bloodied leg. He looked to the pieces of his precious weapon. One side stuck into the throat a creature, and the other still fizzling on the ground. Carefully picking one piece from the sand, and yanking the other side from the beast with a sucking noise and a pop, he caught his breath and focused on finding which direction was north. He scanned the horizon intently… to the east, he saw five more clouds of sand, and heard a distant clicking.