Warrior: Monster Slayer (The Monsterworld Saga Book 1)
Page 6
I wasn’t scared of the dark, but I didn’t love it either. Walking to my car from work on a nightly basis always made me uncomfortable. Not that anything had ever really happened. Well, except for when a badass motorcycle-riding chick had given me a ride home and then drugged and abducted me, transporting me to an alien planet to fight monsters.
There was that.
“And the screams?” I asked, swallowing what was left of the limited moisture in my mouth.
“Very few of the creatures on Tor can bear the light of the suns. The Dark is the only time they come out from their lairs.”
Wonderful. Monster play time. The high I’d been riding since our stolen moments of intimacy came crashing down under the reality of the world I was now trapped in. I wondered how long Vrill had been in this place. Somehow it didn’t feel like the right time to ask. “But what about the Maluk’ori?” I said.
She crinkled her nose, eyes still closed. “Unfortunately, they don’t mind the suns. The type of troll we faced doesn’t mind the silver sun but will turn to stone under the glare of the bronze one. There are a few other dangers to worry about during the day, but unfathomably more during the Black. Now, please, try to sleep.”
I didn’t sleep, but I stopped talking so she could.
Even safe in the cave, the Black was the longest hour of my life. The sounds of murder and mayhem surrounded us. Sometimes it was dull and distant, and other times so loud, explosions of violence, that the battle must’ve been right outside our boulder.
If the monsters discovered the secret entrance…
I blinked away the thought. Vrill clearly knew what she was doing. She slept like a baby drunk on her mother’s milk.
When the horrific sounds finally became less frequent before fading into silence, I released a deep breath. The muscles that I’d held taut during the entire duration of the Black relaxed. My breathing returned to normal. My heart continued to beat at a faster rate, but eventually it slowed too.
Exhaustion returned and I stared at the red light flickering behind my eyelids. It was comforting, in a way, even if the fuel was the ever-burning blood of the demon horde known as the Maluk’ori.
Sleep claimed me once more.
The nightmares stayed away this time.
~~~
When I awoke, much looked the same in the cave. The red torches danced on each side, casting my shadows in five directions. The wash basin was where I’d left it the night before, near the ‘bathroom’ area. The drinking basin, however, had been moved to a place where it could catch drips from a stalactite extending from the ceiling. The vestibule was almost full, though I was certain I’d drained nearly half of it after my ‘bath’.
Vrill was nowhere to be found. Her armor was gone too.
I took a deep breath, licking my lips, which were feeling parched again.
She’ll be back.
I felt pathetic gaining comfort from that thought, but I did. I’d never been camping or needed to fend for myself in the wild. My idea of foraging was heading to the grocery store and filling my cart. I’d never even been a Boy Scout, though I liked to follow their preparedness motto. How did one prepare for Monsterworld?
By learning how to fight, I supposed, but I’d never even taken karate. All my fights had occurred on a flat screen TV with my fingers and thumbs jamming buttons and twisting joysticks to control my fists and feet and weapons.
As I waited for Vrill to return, I tried to keep myself busy to pass the time. First, I carefully smoothed out the wrinkles on my tiny loincloth, and then washed the blue lion’s blood and dirt off it as best I could. Still wet, I tied it back on. It would dry. Next, I knelt and lapped at the water, ignoring the drips on the back of my neck.
My stomach protested at being filled with something other than the food it grumbled for.
She’ll come back.
Next, I inspected my own body, something I had really had the chance to do on account of all the running from monsters and have sex with a beautiful alien warrior woman. Like a dork in front of the mirror, I flexed one arm, then the other. My biceps were round hills, bulging on all sides. I felt my chest, which looked like one of those pretend muscle costumes. Images of Hans and Frans came to mind. I beat my chest, once, twice. Solid as rock. My abs too. If I flexed my six-pack, I knew I could take a pretty good punch and not feel it. Maybe not a troll punch, but still. I was buff as hell without having to go through all the gym time and protein shakes. The slime cocoon would make millions back on Earth.
I did a few Hulk Hogan poses before feeling dumb enough to stop.
I moved over to the torches, inspecting each one in turn. Killing time. Though I hadn’t noticed it before, each long handle was metal. The tops were painted with glistening black liquid that might’ve been tar. Demon blood. It burns eternally, Vrill had told me.
I sat down, trying to come to terms with the realization that she wasn’t coming back. I shouldn’t have been surprised. But I was. On Earth, I’d never been interested in a one-night stand. My two minor relationships had both lasted a few months, but I’d been ready for them to last forever. In both cases, I’d told the women I loved them. They’d gotten uncomfortable at that point and it had ended soon after.
With Vrill, the foolish romantic part of my brain had believed it was the start of something. How could sex that good not be more than just sex?
Where I’m from, skin to skin contact is how we rejuvenate ourselves, she’d said. So I was like food, or water, something to be consumed. Most dudes might not have a problem with that, but it left me feeling depressed. I finally had a body that women might desire, but was that all I was now? Muscles and a penis?
I rolled my eyes at my own ridiculous thoughts. None of that mattered. This wasn’t some alien dating reality show. This was the fucked-up situation I was in, and if I wanted to survive I needed to stop being such a pussy.
I stood up, flexing slightly to remind myself I was a freaking bodybuilder now. I needed to pump myself up, to prepare my mind and body for whatever Hell the day might bring. It’s possible I beat my chest a few times and grunted like Tim ‘the Tool Man’ Taylor.
Of course, that’s when Vrill walked in.
Because she hadn’t abandoned me.
She stopped short, her scythe-like eyebrows lifting onto her dark brow. Her armor reflected red torchlight. An amused smile flitted across her gorgeous lips. “Don’t stop,” she said. “I would hate to distract you from whatever Earthly ritual you’re performing.”
I felt heat rush to my cheeks. “It’s not a—” I managed to stop myself, because I didn’t have an explanation that would explain my behavior any better. “It’s fine. I’m finished.”
“Good,” she said, “because I brought food. That’s what you need to rejuvenate, right? The last human I met was always eating.”
Any embarrassment I’d felt a moment ago vanished at the thought of food. I finally noticed she was carrying something in her hands. Something long and leafy, ending in a tangle of roots. Wait, not roots. Was that an…
“Animal?” I said, only able to translate my thoughts to my mouth in the single word.
“I call them leafrats,” Vrill said, holding the creature up so I could get a better look. It was small, like a rat, but plumper around the midsection. The leafy stem seemed to grow right out of its back. In any other situation, I might’ve barfed at the idea of eating something that resembled a rodent. Now, however, it looked like the most delicious thing I’d ever laid eyes on. Screw filet mignon or lobster tail. Bring on the grilled leafrat!
“Thank you,” I said. It was one of the nicest things anyone had ever done for me.
“Thank you,” she said with a sly smile. “You rejuvenated me first.”
I breathed in through my nose, in awe. Was she seriously thanking me for the best sex of my life? “Uh, you’re welcome. Anytime.” Yeah, I actually said that. Dumbass.
She handed me the creature by the stem. My stomach growled and I resisted the urg
e to dig into the raw, furry flesh. I didn’t want to get sick. I could be patient for a few minutes longer. I noticed a short dagger sheathed at her waist. Did she have it the night before? I couldn’t remember. “May I borrow that?” I asked, gesturing to the knife.
She shrugged, pulling it out and flipping it around handle-first with a practiced ease that spoke of experience handling the weapon. It was a beautiful weapon, its handle engraved with markings resembling elvish runes from one of the fantasy games I used to play before I got addicted to A-Civ.
“Thanks.” With the dagger in one hand and the leafrat in the other, I sat, trying to determine the best way to skin the thing.
It was another thing I had no experience with. I’d never killed anything. Not even a fish. My parents were…indoor people. I followed in their footsteps. But my gaming characters had caught and killed things, cooking them over an open fire.
I needed to be my characters.
I took a deep breath, visualizing how I would look as a pixelated, muscled character. The knife was my joystick. I began to cut.
The leafrat was still warm. Its neck was broken, which must’ve been how Vrill had killed it. I bit back my disgust as I cut off its head. Vrill squatted near me, captivated by the process. I used her presence as a distraction from what my hands were doing, which wasn’t hard. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see her mile-long legs.
“You don’t need to eat?” I asked.
She shook her head. “Drink, yes. My peoples’ rejuvenation comes from intercourse.”
That hurt a little, because it reminded me that she’d needed me like I needed food. It kind of sucked being food, even as good as the sex had been.
What is wrong with me? I thought. I was certain that ninety-nine percent of other guys would love being food in this context.
“So your people do what we did a lot?” I had to admit the way she spoke so openly of sex was somewhat fascinating.
“The effect of the rejuvenation lasts a while. The last human I met…she compared it to something called a ‘camel’ on your world? Does that make sense?”
In a weird way, it did, although comparing anything Vrill did with the hump-backed, spitting desert creatures seemed wrong on many levels. “Camels can drink substantial amounts of water and store it so they don’t need to drink again for a long time. That allows them to survive in harsh conditions.” I managed to separate enough of the leafrat’s fur from the meat, which allowed me to peel it away from the rest, all the way to the tail. Strangely, it parted around the stem, which was embedded in the center of the meat, like a part of its spine growing outside its body. With the fur gone, it looked like a pitifully small amount of food, but it was better than nothing.
“Yes,” she said, still watching my hands work. “I am like a camel then. I store what we did last night. I will use the energy from it over many days. Last night I was weak. Today I am strong.”
“When was the last time you…” I hoped she would understand the gist of the unfinished question.
“Ninety-six Blacks ago,” she said, not offering any details.
Curiosity was killing me. “With who? Are there other of your people here?” Or was it the human you keep mentioning? I added in my mind. My man-brain created an image of Vrill and a beautiful human woman rejuvenating each other. I fought off the image as I felt a stirring beneath my loincloth.
“Neither,” she said. “The human I met—that was a long time ago. And I’ve never seen another of my kind here. I think the Finder gave up on my race after I escaped.”
The Finder. It was what Eve had called herself. “You know Eve?”
She crinkled her nose in disgust. “She brought me here. Just like you. I survived the Circle. Just like you.”
I remembered she’d mentioned the Circle the night before. Eve and Persepheus had talked about it too. With more context, I understood. The ring of boulders. The cocoons. The monsters. Persepheus had said something about a test when she was speaking to Eve. Just before I ended up in that fracking cocoon, surrounded by death.
“How long have you been here?”
“Three years,” she said.
By the gods… “None of this is new, is it? This has been happening for a long time.” Whatever this was.
“Long before I arrived. Most of their ‘Warriors’ don’t survive a single Black, much less long enough to advance further. Not that they give them any real chance.”
“Advance?” My lack of knowledge made me feel like a toddler learning his ABCs.
“Eve explained the Levels, right? Of course she didn’t. They prefer to throw you in the monster pit and pray. Look, what they—Eve and the Three Goddesses—want, is for you to worship them. To feel the need to be in their presence. To protect them from the monsters. To do their bidding. To go on quests to recover what they need to recover. In return, they offer you advancement. Each time you gain a Level, they’ll cover you in their primordial ooze—you know, that slimy stuff?—wrap you in a cocoon, and birth you as a more superior version of yourself. Or at least more superior in their minds. They gave you the first level-up—from Outcast to Warrior—for ‘free,’ to try to hook you into their system. Assuming you survived the Circle, of course, which most don’t.” She held up a hand to cut off my next ten questions, which were sitting on the tip of my tongue. “Eat first, then I’ll explain more.”
I nodded, having forgotten my empty stomach beneath the weight of all the new revelations. The reminder, however, sent it grumbling and aching once more. “Is it safe to use the demonflames to cook the meat?” The word ‘demonflames’ had sprung to mind just before I’d said it, but it had a nice ring to it.
She laughed. “Yes. Probably.”
“Your certainty is comforting.”
She laughed again, and I realized how much I enjoyed being the one to make her do that. “It was a joke. My people like to joke, though I don’t have many opportunities to do so here.”
It was my turn to laugh. “In between rounds of rejuvenation?”
“My other human companion, Darcy, warned me about males from Earth. Always thinking about one thing.”
It wasn’t untrue…
Given the matter-of-fact manner in which she discussed sex, I was feeling more comfortable with the topic. Plus, she’d already seen me naked. “Do you get the same pleasure from sex as we do? Or is it like eating for you?”
“Do you not get pleasure from eating?” she asked.
Good point. People even referred to certain dishes as ‘orgasmic.’ Hell, my mouth was watering at the thought of roasted rat.
I was about to stab the damn thing and use the dagger like a skewer, but Vrill stopped me. “Darcy learned a better way to prepare the leafrats,” she said. “The leaves are there for a reason. For the rats, it helps them to hide from larger predators. They burrow into the ground so only the stem and leaves are showing. But Darcy discovered they also serve as what she called ‘spices.’ She would cut the stem and remove the leaves, wrapping them around the meat. Cooking it like that made it taste better, at least to her. Plus, she said the leaves gave her added strength, like something called vitamins. She convinced me to try a piece once and I couldn’t choke the stuff down. I don’t know how you eat anything.”
Though it was odd talking to someone who looked similar to a human but without many human needs, it was also refreshing. “Thanks for the tip,” I said, following her instructions. The leaves were broad and long, and each one could be wrapped around the rat’s body multiple times. I only needed three to do the job. The rest I put aside for potential later use. Maybe I could make tea with them. If I could find or make a cup, that is.
Once the rat was prepared, I stabbed it with the dagger to hold everything together, and then held it close to the demonflames.
Immediately, the leaves began to char, though there wasn’t any smoke.
“Not too close,” Vrill cautioned. “These flames burn hotter than those you are used to.”
I moved the
rat bundle back a little, turning it slightly to ensure the meat cooked evenly. After a few minutes, a delightful aroma wafted up from the leaves. My hunger gremlin tried to claw its way out from the inside of my stomach.
“How long did Darcy used to cook these for?” I asked. What I was really asking was: Are these demonflames more like a microwave or a slow cooker? but I didn’t think Vrill would get the reference.
“Not long,” Vrill said. “She would usually count to a hundred. I always tried to throw her off by shouting out random numbers.”
I chuckled at that. It was such a juvenile thing for a mature woman like Vrill to do, and yet it felt oddly comforting that she had still found ways to relax on this frightening world.
I counted in my head, so Vrill wouldn’t know what number I was on, but I only got to sixty before my hunger pangs became more than I could handle.
I pulled the leaf-wrapped meat back and blew on it rapidly so I wouldn’t burn my mouth. Vrill did the same, laughing as our breath met. She really was young at heart, despite all she’d been through trying to survive in this place.
I wanted to kiss her so badly, but I knew that would be out of line. She’d made it clear she only needed me for ‘rejuvenation’ at this point. Plus, we’d only just met.
Not to mention, the roasted meat was calling me.
I bit into it, surprised at the blast of flavor and juices that squirted onto my tongue. It was delicious. No…
Orgasmic.
“Holy shit,” I said.
Vrill raised an eyebrow. “I don’t understand. What is holy about shit? That is the foul-smelling excrement that comes from your anus, correct? Darcy always called it number two for some reason. Do you worship your own bowel movements?”
I almost choked on the meat, but managed to swallow it before taking another bite, making sure I had an even mix of leaves and rat. If anything, the second bite was even better than the first. I answered with my mouth full, because at this moment I really didn’t care about manners. “No, it’s just an expression we use on Earth. It means, ‘Wow.’ I’ve never really thought about it. You’re right. It’s a ridiculous thing to say.”