Monster Age

by GR Griffin

  Monster Age

  A Fantasy Epic

  In the weeks that followed the barrier’s destruction, everyone thought it was over. Monsters have integrated themselves into society alongside the humans, and peace between the two races has swept the lands. Fleck and their new family and friends have settled in nicely on the surface, and the future has never looked so bright. However, there was one thing nobody counted on. The Underground was not the only realm of monsters to exist.

  Emperor Zeus of the Outerworld – the fabled empire in the sky – orders Fleck's abduction in the hopes of using their soul to unlock an ancient power of unthinkable proportions, which could spell certain doom for planet Earth.

  Fleck, once again, finds themself fighting (non-violently) to return home in this strange land filled with good monsters, bad monsters, and the downright bizarre, all while a hefty bounty has been placed on their head. And the worst thing? They have lost their ability to reach their save file. Fleck has only one shot to make things right. Can they pull it off?

  Join Fleck and company's second journey for the future of humans and monsters, filled with excitement, danger, comedy, mystery, high notes, low notes… and an old friend.

  Chapter 1: The Beginning

  Old. Frail. Breathing slow, laboured. Tired. So tired. Emperor Juhi lay in his bed, barely clung to life – what little he had left. Juhi knew his moment would come, as it comes to all eventually. This was his last stand. He had lived for so long, longer than what nature had intended, yet still he wished he could have had just a little more time.

  The emperor wished that before he left his mortal coil, he could experience the sensation of real grass between his toes, or the soft, authentic sand under his feet. The scent of sea salt and warm grass. Roses and daisies. Only the Earth could create such bounties, Mother Nature as the humans called it.

  Humans… Those violent, primitive beings that knew nothing but war and hate. It had been so long ago, back when Juhi was a young monster – with youthful vigour and the colour in his hair – when he stood on the Earth’s plentiful surface. There was peace. Life was simple. It was the humans who had cast the first stone, destroying his life, along with those of millions more, and for no other reason than because they were different.

  Juhi was among a group who evaded the humans. He watched from afar, behind mountains and trees, as among the hundreds massacred, unable to fight back, his mother, father, and wife were among them. Their pleas fell upon deaf ears as the dusty pitchforks came down. Juhi’s loved ones crumpled to the ground, their bodies turning to dust, souls shattered. Juhi needed several pairs of hands to hold him back as the rage poured through him, which then manifested into grief.

  The remainder of his brethren were rounded up and marched under Mt Ebbot, where they were sealed away. Juhi did not know whether to call them the lucky ones or the unlucky ones. Forced to live out their days buried under the ground, with no light, no moon, no stars, no fresh air, and no hope of escape. An elaborate tomb. A gilded coffin, the mountain its tombstone.

  The concealed faction of monsters, along with the young Juhi and the child of six years who held his hand, fled far away. They had reached the shore, somewhere far, far away from the real monsters, but that was not enough. Eventually, the humans would discover them, and fell them like they did with so many others. Juhi stood on the sandy beach and looked out at the endless blue, and orange sky, and knew that that could have been the last time he would gaze upon it.

  It had been so long since Juhi had felt the earth, and now he was leaving whilst surrounded by fake stone and pink sunlight. The slither of memories of what it felt like was more precious than all the gold in the world. He would love to feel it one last time. Just once more.

  “Father, I’m here,” a monster, his voice deep and fierce, said softly.

  Juhi opened his eyes. There, at his bedside, stood the imposing figure of his only son, Zeus. It was like looking into a mirror. Giant in stature, Zeus had thick golden hair around his lion face. Two silver eyes watched emotionlessly as the final grains of sand dripped from his father’s hourglass. Zeus: Prince of monsters – prince for not much longer.

  Juhi smiled what would be his last. “So, you came to say goodbye, huh?” He chuckled, only for it to come out in a hacking fit. “I didn’t know you still cared…”

  Prince Zeus took his father’s hand. It was cold. “You’re my dad. I can’t stop caring even if I wanted to…”

  “Even though… you hated me for the choices I’ve made… and called me a coward for not acting, for choosing the safety of our people over vengeance?”

  Zeus looked away. “I still stand by what I said, I don’t regret saying any those things, but I’d never forgive myself if I let something like that stop me from seeing you again one last time.”

  Juhi laughed weakly. “Well… I guess there’s no point in acting against you anymore. My position is about to become vacant, as it seems…” He looked back into his son’s eyes. Zeus remained silent, allowing his father to speak his peace. “Our Royal Advisor has informed us… that the great barrier under Mount Ebbot… was destroyed not too long ago. Such power was thought impossible… apparently not…”

  “I already know this,” Zeus said.

  The ailing emperor clasped his other hand around his son’s protruding knuckles. “Yes, Zeus… but there’s something I’ve been keeping from you for so many years… for far too long… A way to free our people.”

  The prince’s expression remained as solid as stone. “That does not surprise me,” he said with a monotone voice. “But why tell me this now, when you’re facing the end?”

  “Because I feared the worst that could come of it.” Juhi’s hands tightened. “You still have the heart of a young man, my son… You act out of emotion, anger. Your hatred of the humans is as strong as the day it was forged, but the revulsion that I feel for them… it is not the same as it was all those years ago.”

  Zeus growled, low, deep, quiet. “How can you view the humans differently after what they did…? To Mother? Grandma? Grandpa? To all of them? It’s unforgivable, inexcusable. I could never forgive them – will never forgive them.”

  “Zeus, please.” Emperor Juhi stared deep into Zeus’s eyes. “I’ve spent most of my life hating the humans… and look where it has gotten me. The last thing I want… is for you to be lying in this exact same spot, regretting the same mistakes I’ve made. I can’t change the past… but you have a chance to shape the future. I can impart… the information to you, but you must promise me… you’ll not act out of aggression or vengeance… you’ll only do what’s best for the empire… what’s best for our people.”

  Prince Zeus knelt down, bringing his silver eyes closer to Juhi’s. “I give you my word,” he whispered. “Tell me, please…”

  With his last ounce of strength, Juhi leaned over. “The Obelisk… The power that holds this empire… contains power untapped… you can unlock it… wield it… change everything…”

  “How, Father?” Zeus asked.

  Juhi drew breath. “There is… a human. They possess… in their soul… a power… Deter… mination…”

  Zeus clenched his eyes shut. “Which human…?”

  Juhi rasped one final breath, then whispered one final word. A name. Zeus heard it, spelled it out, savoured the sound, imagined the face attached to it, then branded it into his memory. For as long as he lived, whether it be a hundred years or a thousand, that name shall never fade.

  He held on to his father’s hand. He held on for as long as he could, not wanting to let go. Emperor Juhi crumpled back onto his pillow, exhaling slowly. Juhi’s cold fingers loosened around his son’s hand, then crumbled. Zeus clenched his teeth tight as the dust seeped through his fingers. His grip so tight that the na
ils dug into his palms, drawing blood. He dared not open his eyes, not yet, knowing full well what awaited him.

  No. No need to hide from the truth. The time was now. Zeus rose to his feet, then let his eyelids open. On the bed lay the dusty remains of what used to be Emperor Juhi. Just like that, his father was gone. The monster that had raised him from birth, taught him how to live, loved him through all of his faults, had returned to dust. Just like that, Zeus was alone.

  Zeus looked at his open hand. The palm was grey with his father’s remains and dotted red with traces of his own blood. “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,” he whispered. He wanted to cry, but no tears came. He had never cried a single time in his life, not even at the lowest moments. He looked back at the bed and felt his hand tighten back into a fist. This was a time for remorse, but all he felt was simmering rage. “Goodbye, Father.”

  From behind, he could hear the tapping soles and clanking plates of the two guards assigned over the master bedroom. Head to toe in shiny, silver armour, and sporting spears that rivalled their burly size, only the best of the best could be deemed worthy of being part of the Monster Military. The two guards witnessed their fearless leader leave this world, and now stood before his only son. They both dropped down on one knee and lowered their heads. “What is your bidding, Lord Zeus?” one of them spoke with utmost respect.

  Former Prince Zeus – Emperor Zeus slowly turned around, his silver eyes drift over his father’s armour, upright in a glass cabinet. A royal, decorative suit constructed from plates of thick metal, complete with a flowing red cape, attached to spike-adorned spaulders and connected with a gold chain. He saw his reflection in the glass, it was a perfect fit.

  Zeus completed his turn until he faced his loyal sentinels. “As my first order of command as emperor, you are to bring me… a human, the one my father spoke of before he died.”

  The guards’ heads jerked up in shock. “A… a human, my lord?” the other guard managed to choke out, staring at his rulers boots. “But… no human has ever set foot on… They can’t know about… We could be powerless to—”

  “Don’t misunderstand me, I know the risks. Every precaution will be taken.” Zeus sounded like the father he knew from countless generations ago. “But this human holds the key to our salvation, and it is imperative that it be brought before me, at once.”

  The same guard swallowed hard. His head lowered back down. “We… we shall do as you ask, my lord.”

  “Good. The human is called… Fleck.” Already, the name brought disgust to his stomach. The young emperor pointed at them with his dusty hand. “Find this creature and bring it to me.” With an affirmative nod, his units rose. They were about to leave, prepared to follow their orders when Emperor Zeus barged past them. “Inform command that I am not to be disturbed. I must speak with the Royal Advisor…”

  Chapter 2: New Life

  Wow. Fleck just had the strangest dream.

  Early morning rays shone through the window, bathing Fleck’s bedroom with golden light, bringing about some kind of photosynthetic rejuvenation to the human child. The birds outside chirped their morning melodies, the prefect alarm on a day like today. Fleck sat up in bed, rubbing the haze from their dark eyes and stretching their stiff muscles. Fleck threw the bedsheet off, but when they went to climb off the mattress, they stopped.

  Lying in the middle of the room, on a clean, white plate, was a slice of Toriel’s famous butterscotch cinnamon pie – second only to snail, an acquired taste for the non-goat, non-monster species. With a smile, Fleck hopped off the mattress. Bare feet sank into the soft carpet as they walked over, grabbed the plate, and then brought it back to the bed. Fleck savoured every bite of the pie. The sweet, moist butterscotch complemented the warm, cinnamon spice, all wrapped in a crumbly base. Today was going to be a good day, they were sure of it.

  As they ate, Fleck contemplated the dream they had just had. They saw… They do not know what they saw. An old monster, crumbling to dust. A giant lion, fuelled by rage. A name being called. Theirs. That was it, and that short list was getting shorter as their brain was purging it from the memory banks. Before they knew it, Fleck was done, nothing but measly crumbs on the plate. Not even rats would find the amount of leftovers fulfilling.

  With the plate in hand, Fleck walked across the bedroom, through the door and into the hall. The cream carpet was new and lush. The yellow paint, fresh and easy on the eyes. It was both amazing and pleasantly surprising just how accommodating the humans were to creatures whom they had never seen in centuries. At that moment, however, the walls were bare, in desperate need of some history; hanging frames and knick-knacks, perhaps a potted plant or two. The Dreemurr family had yet to take snapshots and vacation picks together, but they were being planned.

  Fleck turned the corner into the kitchen. The first thing anyone would notice was its spaciousness, then everything else. The spotless white and black tiled flooring. The perfectly sturdy appliances, all modern and new. Granite kitchen countertops. An oak dining table, complete with four chairs, centred in the centre; Toriel occupied one of the chairs, switching between today’s newspaper and a stack of homework. At least it was a step up from reading about snails.

  Toriel noticed her adopted child as they strolled in. A warm smile appeared. “Good morning, Fleck,” she greeted, peering over a pair of reading glasses. “Did you sleep well, my child?”

  Fleck answered that they had a great night’s sleep, and thanked Toriel for the tasty treat. The human child did not bother to mention the dream, it was neither a nightmare nor a vision – nothing to worry about. They placed the empty plate in the sink.

  At the end of the kitchen was a patio door; immaculate windows showed the back garden. While it was not massive by any means, it was more than enough for their expert gardener to work with, turning a rectangle of grass into a garden fit for a king, full of flowers under every colour of the rainbow.

  “You are welcome. Nothing but the best for our little ambassador.” Toriel turned back to the paper. She tapped a ball-point pen against the daily crossword, pondering about how Sans would love it and how Papyrus would hate it. “Do not forget, today is the day we are meeting up with the others for a picnic.”

  How could Fleck forget? Answer: they could not. They all had planned this some weeks back. Fleck, Toriel, Asgore, Papyrus, Sans, Undyne and Alphys all together to enjoy some quality time in their newly founded freedom. Just like in the Underground, they lived fairly close together, no more than a half-hour walk away from each other. On the surface’s most popular social-media site, Alphys made nonstop updates to her status and had 896 friends, whilst anything Papyrus put up was instantly bombarded by comments from his brother.

  Fleck helped themselves to a small bowl of cereal, something light to leave space for the feast. Or maybe Fleck should not? Some of their pals would not be considered the best cooks on the planet. Papyrus might have experimented with spaghetti and a deep-fryer. Undyne might have burned down a second or third house. No, Fleck thought, their friends had come through many times, and the child trusted that they would do so again. They ate their minimal breakfast, and when they were finished, they headed out of the kitchen.

  “Be ready for ten o’clock,” Toriel called out to Fleck, “We need to be there in good time.” She then placed the paper down and picked up the next sheet on the homework pile. “Well, well, it appears that Monster Kid has certainly improved on their handwriting.” She stared off into space. “And how…?”

  Fleck walked further into the house, into the living room. The floor was dark walnut wood and the walls were burnt umber. Two armchairs and a couch surrounded a coffee table and faced a flat screen television, which currently showed an advert for the relocated Grillby’s Restaurant. The side wall had two fitted bookshelves, filled with the tomes from Toriel’s old home in the ruins.

  There, slumped on the couch, was Asgore; he looked so much different without his kingly attire. At first, Toriel despised the idea of sharing a
house with her ex-husband, but after some tough convincing by Fleck, Toriel reluctantly agreed, but only on three conditions.

  First condition: that Asgore acted as a father figure to Fleck.

  The second condition: that he kept his and her relationship strictly mutual. They were roommates – not lovers or soulmates or boyfriend and girlfriend. Just roommates. End of story.

  The third and perhaps most important condition: that he refrained from calling her ‘Tori’.

  So far, Asgore had succeeded in maintaining two out of three of those terms. Ultimately, the idea for all three of them to live under the same roof was Fleck’s. When Toriel and Asgore asked them why, Fleck answered that it would give them time to mend their relationship, and be more cost effective financially until they can properly get to their feet.

  However, deep down, Fleck knew the real answer…

  “By the way… Fleck. Take care of Mom and Dad for me, OK?”

  “Howdy, Fleck,” Asgore said, taking his eyes off the flat screen. “You’re just in time to catch the network premier.” He patted the space on the couch beside him, cratering a soft groove in the padding. “Take a seat for a bit.”

  Fleck hopped on just as the last commercial ended and the overexcited voice of a television presenter spoke over a red curtain. There was a drumroll in the background. “And now, ladies and gentlemen, for your viewing pleasure, we give you…” The curtain was pulled away, revealing the jazzy title, complete with star-spangled background and sketchy underline. “Saturday Morning Breakfast with a Killer Robot! And here’s your host, Mettaton!”

  The applause signs lit up and the audience erupted into wild clapping as the killer robot – who had never actually killed anyone – stepped on pink high heels into the spotlight. Mettaton waved to his adoring fans, smiling as he brushed back a strand of his luxurious black hair. He strutted across the stage to a vacant armchair, stopping to pose several times, and lowered himself down onto it, crossing one leg over the other. His beloved cousin, Napstablook, provided musical accompaniment with their trusty record turntables in the background.