Bunnygirls 2

by Simon Archer

  “But he was just okay with all of that?” I still couldn’t quite piece together the reasoning. “Things just aren’t fitting into place for me quite yet. You’re a Rabbit, and even if you weren’t, you had no real chance of fighting him in a real battle. I’ve only beaten a fake version of him, and I stacked the deck in my favor. He’s a noble Wolf. He used to be a champion challenger, the elite of the elite! Almost every noble I’ve ever met has thrived on Rabbit torture and bunny snacks. He probably got the most of all of that. That is not something that they just give up on request, especially a Rabbit’s request. What, did he accidentally catch a conscience?”

  “Preymeister… saved my life.” The big guy regained consciousness. “I wouldn’t be here… if it weren’t for him. I owe him… all of my strength.”

  “Buddy!” Preymeister the Rabbit got his torso out of the pocket to get a better look at his carrier’s face. “You’re alive! Oh, thank goodness! I mean, the secret is out still, so, you know, that kinda sucks, but you’re alive! You live to fight another day, in a real fight, hopefully! I guess we’ll just have to hope I luck out in this fight, too, so you can still rep me in the future. Or maybe this guy will be fine with you still fighting battles for him.”

  “Sir, please, save your breath,” One of the guards holding him up cautioned, “We still don’t know what that bastard Paw-Paw did to you. We need to make sure you’re alright, and you need rest.”

  “I am not your superior.” The newly revealed ‘Chompfist’ put his feet down to support himself. “You’ve heard the truth from Preymeister. If only I had more faith… in my ability to survive… Paw-Paw’s magic, then I could… have kept the secret longer. And I am more than… alright. My strength returns even now, though… maybe not as fast as I’d like. I am actually glad that… much of this happened.”

  “Can you just clear something up for me, now that you’ve returned to the land of the living?” I requested, “Are you not more bound by your code as a champion of the Regent to treat that incident as just a failed sneak-attack? I’m not trying to convince you to rejoin him, but it’s still hard to wrap my head around the idea that such a powerful noble so close to the Regent decided to betray him like this. I do not want to get betrayed myself, you see.”

  “Do you understand what it’s like to feel purposeless?” Chompfist sat back up in his gurney, quickly regaining his composure. “Have you ever looked at your life and thought to yourself that you had forsaken your greatest passion because you were too eager to reach for it, and now the lie that you had so fervently bought had consumed you when you found out it was hollow?”

  “That might need some more explaining, big fella.” I tipped my head to the side. “I understand the feeling, but not the context. Paranoia’s still flaring.”

  “My greatest love is the struggle of battle,” Chompfist obliged in an explanation, “I rose far above other grunts, slaughtered many Wolves, so I could bask in it. Rabbits were of no interest to me before; I would only eat what I could defeat in battle, so I would go out into the wild for my meals. I had fought so many nobles that I had become a baron of a city far to the north in all but name only. The Regent approached me then, promised me that I would be able to fight great foes if I became one of his champions. He gave me this blessing, and I was eager to see what powerful foes he would pit me against. But as soon as I had fought my first noble, the baron Buckmaul, I was told that my place was to guard this area against all intruders. No intruders ever showed themselves, as no one dared oppose the Regent, or me. I had gained far too great a reputation for any to dare come near, and I was bound to the Regent to stay here. My days were spent merely attending to the droll matters of city life.”

  “So you jumped at the first chance to get out,” I let out a chuckle, “even if it was just a Rabbit killing you in a fluke. It wasn’t a technicality; it was an excuse, a loophole. You hadn’t instigated it at all, so you hadn’t betrayed your loyalties, but you were allowed to treat it as an actual challenge if you wanted to.”

  “When my masseur killed me and brought me back, I remembered the very thing I’d forgotten I loved,” Chompfist himself chuckled, “the fear of death. The risk that made victory all the sweeter. I saw my failed demise as an opportunity to escape my shackles and embrace the chance to fight like that once again. There was one last great enemy of this world that could have given me such a fight: the Regent.”

  “So, you picked a fight with him yourself?”

  “It wasn’t my intention at first,” Chompfist said, “I was honestly more curious what a Rabbit would do as a lord over a city. When his wishes stood completely opposite of the law I’d come to know my whole life, I knew that we’d be facing him if I granted any of them. As the ruler of all, his resources are so vast, and his power so great, that I couldn’t help but feel excited at the prospect of challenging him myself in this way. He called me a traitor when he heard about Preymeister’s new laws, but I felt that the Wolf that he had ensnared had died, and a new Wolf opposed him. And it wasn’t me that challenged him so much as it was Preymeister through me.”

  “You actually fought the Regent?” Hopper asked, “What happened? How did you win?”

  “It wasn’t a victory,” Chompfist the Wolf said, “I had attacked the Mana Crusher, crippling his forces there before leaving when it no longer interested me. I was biding my time here until he had licked his wounds clean and came back with more forces. Had he been Wolf enough, he might have tried to attack the city already, and I could face him in an even more glorious battle than before.”

  “But all of the pro-Rabbit policy changes,” I scratched my head, “The loss of most of your city’s nobles, risking this uprising. Was that all just to rile people up for more battles? You had no troubles with Rabbits as a former noble?”

  “Preymeister’s ideas are so audacious,” he explained further, “they were the perfect handicap. I was sick of gathering strength that meant nothing, but proving that I could gain victory with so little felt enticing. The truest strength was overcoming weakness and shortcomings, to show that the arrogant were reliant on what had made them soft. And it helped to show the Regent that I had no intention of returning to his fold. After a while, I’d actually come to enjoy the company of most Rabbits, especially my new lord Preymeister, so I didn’t bother to fight them. A few had even come to look up to me, and not just because of my height. It was a strange feeling inside. I wanted respect and had garnered fear, but this was admiration. Affection. I’ve never known these things before my death. They wanted to be with me, near me, and it had me wanting to be with them.”

  “Thanks, buddy,” Preymeister said, “You’re fun to be around, too.”

  “But you were still pretending to be the baron, still, even after losing it to Rabbit Preymeister,” I said, “Why the subterfuge?”

  “You think I could have taken on all of those angry nobles?” Preymeister hid his head in the kilt, letting his rabbity ears quiver. “I’d have died before I could have even announced that I was the new baron. I only came out now because Chompfist pointed me out to everyone nearby before we all thought he died. Turns out that he didn’t, but I’m still exposed, and you’re going to kill me, so I’m still not too thrilled about that.”

  “Now that you’ve died and come back yet again,” I looked at Chompfist, “Are you going to say that you’ve been released from Preymeister’s bond of loyalty? Are you going to be an independent I have to deal with?”

  “I have yet to decide on that,” Chompfist chuckled, “I don’t know if I truly died this time around, and I’d hate to admit that Paw-Paw was the one to do the deed. Maybe you can help me to choose. You seem like a very driven sort of Rabbit, though you’re the strangest I’ve ever seen. What are your plans now?”

  “Well, once I’ve taken the barony in a duel with Preymeister,” I looked at the tiny baron, “I’m going to have my men outside the city brought in and help out in restructuring the place. A few business matters, some new rules, as
signing a governor to watch the place, some inventory of the baron’s stuff and Paw-Paw’s, spend a night here, then I’ll take an army out with me to shut down the Mana Crusher. After that, we’ll see what we can do about that Regent and his cabal of asshole nobles, nip this Blood Moon ceremony in the bud before it even has a chance to get off the ground.”

  “Can you make it quick and painless?” Preymeister asked, “Do you mind terrified shaking? I can sit still if that makes it easier for you. Just give me a second.”

  “Do you accept my challenge, then?” I asked in response.

  “I mean, I guess I have to, or--” the little baron’s breath evacuated him as I socked him in the stomach with the butt of my shotgun. Flipping it over, I put the end of the barrel up to his head.

  “I’ll give you a request before you die.” I looked him square in the eye as I put the barrel on his nose. “If it’s within my power and doesn’t go against the greater goals I have, I’ll see that it gets done.”

  “You’re gonna take care of the Rabbits, right?” Preymeister quivered in his sack. “You’re a Rabbit, so you’ve got to understand. You won’t let the Wolves have a Blood Moon here? You’ll keep the bunnies safe, and you’ll treat the hares with a little more dignity?”

  “Is that your request?” I pressed the barrel into his rabbity face, “Is that what you want for this city?”

  “It’s all I’ve ever wanted.” The hare baron’s quivering stopped as his convictions set in. “I was so sick of seeing the cruelty all over the city, and I wanted it to end. If you’re going to keep them happier than they were then, that’s all I can ever hope for in this world.”

  “Do you surrender, then?” I asked him, “Can you accept that I’m going to take all of your belongings, your powers, your pack members, your slaves, and your life, to do with as I please? You won’t fight back?”

  “That’s just the way it is, I guess.” He closed his eyes. “It’s all yours. I’m ready.”

  “Perfect.” I took the barrel away. “Mission accomplished, boys. The city’s ours. Go find the camp and bring everybody in. The bunnies go straight to the castle. Syndicate Wolves, find all of the nobility left in the city, their underlings, and their Rabbits, bring them there as well. I want all of the restructuring and naming done before nightfall. Guards who are still in your suits, go help the syndicate Wolves out. The rest suit back up, brush off, and head to the castle, along with the Wolves and Rabbit groups I didn’t mention. After the naming and restructuring, Most of you’re helping clean the square up, along with the damage I made in the city. You can borrow Beau to help move the rubble, along with most of the other striders. I’ll pick out a few of you to help me inventory all of our equipment so we can arm ourselves and plan an attack on the Mana Crusher without a second wasted. Get a move on. We’re on a clock! If we don’t stop the Blood Moon Banquet in time, I’ll make the next night just as red.”

  “What?” Preymeister popped an eye open. “You’re not going to kill me?”

  “Why would I?” I told him, “You surrendered, you’re an independent baron, and you agreed to give me all of your stuff already. I don’t have to kill you. It’ll just make a mess all over my new town square, along with Chompfist’s clothes. That seems rude to both of you. Plus, I need someone to run this place while I’m gone. How about it, Governor Preymeister? You think you’re up for the task?”

  “Have you been listening?” Most of his body poked out of the pocket, now, showing his tiny blue coat. “I don’t have the chops to be a leader of an entire city! What am I supposed to do when someone wants to fight me or something?”

  “Why would they do that?” I asked, “They wouldn’t get anything. The city’s still mine. You just make the executive decisions in my place. That’s your job as a slave, I guess. You’ll also have some of my boys keeping you safe at all times while you do your job. You’ll speak with my authority, and people will listen if my boys have anything to say about it. And you have everything you need for the gig. You showed me that already.”

  “When?” He put the leather flap over his legs like a blanket.

  “Do you know how many people there are that would think of the good of others over themselves when they’re about to die?” I flicked him on the head. “If they were cherries, there wouldn’t be enough to fill a cup. I can only hope I’m one of them. That’s the kind of rare breed I need keeping order in my place. Just think like that when you make your decisions, and I’ll be more than happy with what you come up with.”

  “Wow.” Preymeister pulled his feet out of the pocket, fully bringing himself out of the kilt. “That’s crazy. I won’t let you down!”

  “But that does leave one matter unresolved.” I pointed the shotgun at the big baron body double. “What’s your final decision, Chompy? You are technically an independent, too.”

  “Fighting you seems like a waste if there are bigger battles ahead.” Chompfist stood up from the gurney. “Now, a Rabbit noble fighting the Regent, that is something I want to be a part of. You have an instinct for war and a heart for glory. I will fight for you to the end.”

  “When there’s no one left to fight, I’ll claim your head myself,” I shook his large hand as a sign of camaraderie, “if that’s what you want, I mean. You’ve said you want to fight more than anything. Eventually, there won’t be any more battles to fight if my vision comes to life, and I’d hate for you to get bored. I’ll have a place for you, too, if you decide you want to live.”

  “If that day comes, I will consider your proposals,” He bowed to me, “though don’t think I will be so easy to defeat, even without my powers. That felonious Gingerclaw, or ‘Paw-Paw,’ didn’t have my instinct or skills to compliment the strength he stole. The body was an extension of my own power, not the source of it.”

  “Don’t go filling your head with air, yet. I’ve already got five ways to take you down, based on what I’ve seen.” I stroked my beard. “Not liking the name Chompfist, though. How about Wallace? It’s the name of a warrior from a legend that I think fits your whole persona.”

  “Very well.” Wallace, previously Chompfist, previously Preymeister, accepted the new name, “As you wish, my lord. I, Wallace, shall give my life for your purpose.”

  “Alright, girls, help me out!” I looked over to Hopper and Tinker, leading each of them with an arm as we walked toward the castle, “I’ve got to think up over two hundred unique names in the next five minutes, and I’ve used up all of my good-to-decent ones already. Let’s brainstorm!”

  21

  Two hours had passed after the restructuring, and I was reviewing the inventory of all of my new stuff brought into the castle’s private study. The whole process was much quicker than I thought it would have been this time around. Nobody wanted to mess with the guy who just took down both the power equivalent of their indestructible baron and the criminal element in their city at the same time, and the nobles all accepted their new roles. The six of them were smart and still living because of it. They’d already shown that they weren’t going to eat bunnies, so I didn’t have to put them through the rigamarole that I subjected Thumperton to.

  “This was among his stuff, boss.” One of the previous syndicate members handed me a journal taken from Paw-Paw’s secret study. “It’s written in some kind of gibberish scribbling. I was told that you could make something of it.”

  “Let’s see if the Hunter has any more secrets to share with us.” I cracked the old book open, seeing that close to half of the pages were rotted away. “Gibberish for you is English to me. Did you find any more pages like these lying around? Maybe crumpled up, in a bin or pot, or maybe a few scraps in the fireplace? Anything you can scrounge up.”

  “We checked all of those, and that’s all the pages we found, sir. Pardon me for asking,” he asked me, “but you can actually read that? I thought it was some magic language.”

  “It’s my native language, actually.” I flipped to the first page that hadn’t been torn out. “I’
ll explain more once I’m done reading. Or not, it might just be confusing for you. Do you have a conceptual idea of parallel worlds?”

  “Can’t say that I do, boss.” He gave me a salute. “I’ll get back to work.”

  “Probably best.” I saluted back, watching him walk back to help with the rest of it while I began my research.

  The first couple entries of the journal were interesting enough if you were a history buff. Interesting perspective on colonial life, and detailed inventory of supplies throughout. The last entry in this journal, however, was the one that really caught my eye. The tone hadn’t left the dreary macabre of war, but rather dove deeper into the powerfully desperate and harrowed:

  Wild Forests outside of Lancaster, Pennsylvania, February 14th 1783rd Year of our Lorde

  By my faith, I have seen unholy sins committed by the beasts of the earth. I write this down now to prove to my own future sensibilities and any who read these pages that I speak only truth. If not in spirit, then certainly in mind and intellect, I was taken to the moment of the Garden, the first bite that doomed mankind to grovel in a world tainted by hell. The parallel was uncanny, and I now truly understand why the crime had been called so heinous, and the punishment so severe. Can salvation reach the heart of a beast? It must if there is to be any hope.

  My tale started a simple hunt. Pest control, more like. The local farms had been crippled by what appeared to be a wolf pack or bear, though they were an aggressive sort. If we were going to keep Lancaster, we’d need their food for the winter. Some of my men wanted to blame the native savages for overhunting their buffalo, forcing the natural predators to pick from our animals. I wasn’t one to tolerate such rumors without the proof we could act upon, lest we join the many dead who had been so foolhardy before us as to believe a dangerous lie. Perhaps these rumors were better than the stories that have been spreading around, now. And yet, perhaps those were more than stories.