by Peter Glenn
I let out a slight yelp and lunged for the safety of the small recess. The boulder made a whooshing sound as it spun past, catching the edge of my t-shirt in the process and snagging it along the wall for a second before the thing finally passed me completely.
My breath came in short spurts, but I focused on slowing it, on letting my nerves die back down and my heart rate slow. I’d made it past the trap. Now all I had to do was make it another hundred meters or so, and I’d be safe.
I peeked my head out of the recess, looking both ways. Up ahead, the giant boulder was magically missing.
“Huh,” I said aloud. “Maybe there was a hidden trap door near the entrance, too?”
It didn’t matter. The coast was clear. I pried my tired body out of the small recess and kept walking toward the entrance. It wasn’t much farther now.
Behind me, I heard that same grating noise from before. I groaned and spun on my heels to discover - you guessed it - another boulder falling out of the sky, come to crush me. Or maybe it was the first one, spinning back around on some sort of ancient conveyor belt. It didn’t really matter.
My aching legs giving protest, I ran for it again, bolting for the entryway.
Up ahead, a strange, whitish shape unstuck itself from the wall a short distance in front of me and another groan spewed out of my lips.
“It’s an undead skeleton, come to take the sword back.”
I should have known. People didn’t bury things with their dead unless they were highly treasured family heirlooms. Even if they were cursed artifacts. Oh well, there were worse ways to go than getting skewered by a family guardian from the underworld.
I reached down to the scabbard at my side and pulled out my katana. Ideally, I’d have used Grax’thor for this battle to give the thing a good test, but it wasn’t easy to pull a sword from a back scabbard unless the thing was built for that purpose, and this one wasn’t.
The skeleton warrior was wearing a rusted breastplate and helmet, and carried a rather large, oval-shaped shield and a rusted sword.
I grimaced. If that thing touched me, the disease from the rust and decay was as likely to kill me as the wound itself. This would be a lousy way to go, after all.
Skeletor lunged at me, coming at me with a wide swipe for my midsection. I brought my sword up, parrying the blow with ease, all the while my eyes darting behind me, trying to gauge how close the new boulder was to my position.
It looked to be about a hundred meters out. I had to end this quickly.
I came in with a high swipe, swinging downward, trying to hack off the thing’s shield arm to expose it.
Skeletor was surprisingly spry and managed to bring his shield around just in time to knock my blow wide.
I followed that up with a low lunge at the thing’s bony feet, which Skeletor also managed to block with that giant shield of his.
Skeletor swiped his sword at me again, then, coming in high, blade aimed for my neck. I dodged slightly backward, panting and heaving from the exertion, and flicked my blade upward at the last moment, jabbing inward toward the thing’s chest.
My blade rattled and I heard a loud crack as several of the thing’s ribs cracked open, but of course the blow had no effect, since the creature didn’t have any actual organs underneath.
I cursed my instincts and rallied for another attack, swinging my sword hard to the side, under Skeletor’s guard, aiming to disarm that giant shield again.
This time, my blade strike rang true, and I heard another satisfying crunch as Skeletor’s shield arm broke in half, splinters of bone flying in every direction as the shield clanged to the ground.
I flashed Skeletor a wicked grin as it came at me again, lunging forward with its rusty weapon. I reared backward, managing to dodge the blade strike just in time to save my skin, but not my Duran Duran t-shirt.
I groaned a bit, but to be frank, the thing had seen better days anyway and was already nearing retirement, so it was a minor loss.
Skeletor swung wildly again, seemingly without any real aim, and I staggered backward once more, my weapon clanging against his with a loud clang.
The rumbling was growing ever louder throughout this, so I spun around to check on the boulder. It was only twenty meters or so away and catching up.
My mind raced. I had to get past Skeletor, and fast. So I ran for it again. I turned around and ran full steam ahead, hoping to outpace Skeletor and make it to the fabled entryway before he could skewer me in the back with Mr. Rusty.
The skeleton warrior shifted his weight and his blade swung at me again, clattering against Grax’thor’s scabbard. Had it not been for that thing sitting there, the sword strike would have cleaved into my back and put an end to me right then and there.
I kept moving, trying not to think about it, when I felt my legs give way as my foot came into contact with something hard and wooden, and there I was, flying through the air, my face hitting the hard dirt with a loud thunk, stars exploding into my eyes, with an undead skeleton warrior and a massive boulder mere inches behind me.
“Huh,” I blurted out. Maybe this would be my end, after all.
Seconds later, I heard a loud crunch as the massive boulder took out Skeletor and a familiar whoosh as the fast-moving hunk of stone rolled right on top of me, yet somehow missing me entirely.
My eyes went wide, and I stared all around me in shock, only to notice that the ground I’d fallen on happened to be that two foot deep impression I’d seen on the way in.
“Blind, stupid luck, indeed,” I muttered. Told you it was a thing, kiddies.
But my respite didn’t last long. I heard a rumbling again as the boulder shifted and came rolling back in my direction.
I shot up, pushing myself up to my knees, all the while wondering how this boulder trap was even possible, then remembered that steep incline I’d come down on the way in. My mind marveled at the overall construction of the place, built perfectly to house this one wicked trap and keep the family’s treasures safe.
‘Twas a bit overkill, really. It kinda ticked me off.
I watched as the boulder came rushing backward in my direction, and I stumbled back, crawling away from it on my hands and knees as I tried to right myself and head back toward that recess in the wall I’d taken refuge in earlier.
Fortunately, I didn’t need to go that far. The boulder creaked and rumbled, coming to a stop in that same depression I’d just been in. I could see the tiniest hint of a bone stuck to the side of it and smiled a bit at that.
Skeletor had been a fine combatant. It was nice to see his end had been equally spectacular.
The ground beneath the boulder made a slight grating sound that I’d somehow missed on its earlier trip through the corridor, and the giant boulder started to descend into the earth. Soon enough, the boulder was gone, and the coast was clear.
I glanced down at the opening in the ground, which had failed to close itself completely this time. It was at this point that I noticed the constant hum of machinery had also stopped thrumming in my ears.
Shaking my head, I let out a long sigh of relief. Ancient machinery couldn’t hold a candle to the modern stuff, I guess.
But that still left how to make it over the gap. The door had only closed maybe half a foot, leaving a six foot or larger gap, and glancing downward, it wasn’t immediately obvious how deep the hole went.
There was nothing for it. I’d have to jump the gap.
I took a deep breath and backed up a few paces, staring down my latest obstacle.
“You can do this, Damian,” I told myself. I shook out my hands a few times and stared down the gap. “It’s just like track and field in high school.”
That’s right, I went to high school once in the late 1950s. Springfield Raptor pride forever and all that. I’d been looking for something new to do, but got bored and dropped out a few months later, though I still had a class ring for it somewhere.
I sheathed my katana, then took one more deep breath and sprint
ed forward, taking huge steps down the corridor. At the last moment I lunged, jumping high into the air in a majestic arc, limbs flailing and reaching for the ledge on the far side.
One hand found purchase on the lid of the indent, but the other landed on that stupid shield from before, which I ended up pulling into the hole. It clattered along the walls, spiraling downward into the darkness.
I felt my good hand slipping, so I reached upward with my other hand again, this time being more successful and finding solid stone to latch onto.
Then I pulled as hard as I could, forcing my body upward. It was like the greatest pull-up ever, and I was never that great at them to begin with, but I managed, and a few moments later I sprawled out on the solid ground, panting and trying to catch my breath.
I was safe at last from the massive trap that had been set to stop me. Somehow, I had persevered.
A few moments later, I got up and unbuckled Grax’thor from its scabbard, holding it in my hands again.
“Some cursed weapon you are,” I spat at it.
But it wasn’t really the weapon’s fault that I’d lived. I still had that stupid luck blessing of my own to contend with, and at best, this blade would only even the odds. Besides, I probably had to actually wield the thing for it to have any effect.
Shrugging, I fit the blade back onto my back and started walking forward. Somewhere in the earlier scuffle, I had dropped my light charm, and I could see it staring at me there on the other side of the chasm.
A shudder ran down my spine. No way I was going back for that thing now.
I left the light charm there and crept toward the opening up ahead of me, inching my way through the inky darkness all around me that got thicker and thicker, threatening to swallow me.
I felt a knot form in my gut and tried to force it down as the fear started to get to me.
Was it all in my head, or were the gravesites around me a little more menacing than they’d been earlier? One skeleton had already tried to attack me. It was only reasonable that there could be more.
I freaked out and stumbled forward, tripping on something in the low light and getting the wind knocked out of me again, but there it was before me, shining like a beacon - the entryway. It was only a few meters up ahead.
My hands scraped against the stone floor of the cavern and I pushed myself up again, then bolted, making a beeline for the entrance. I was so over tomb raiding at this point. That movie had made it out to be a lot cooler than it actually was.
I reached the entrance a few moments later, right as I heard the sound of ominous laughter filter through the darkness behind me.
Let me tell you, kids, there’s nothing more frightening than the sound of laughter when there’s no one in the room with you. You know what I’m talking about.
I put one hand on the door, hoping the ancient mechanism would still be at least partially operational so I could slam it shut once I was out, and started to squeeze my bulk through the entryway.
My t-shirt rubbed against the stone of the door, ruining it further and scraping off part of the band’s logo, but I was making headway.
Behind me, the laughter was growing louder. I glanced in its direction for just a second and instantly regretted it. A pair of red, glowing, sinister eyes were staring at me from some point in the darkness as clouds of dark fog swirled beneath it, starting to take the form of a person.
“Yikes!” I squeaked, then I sucked in my gut and made one final shove.
Just like that, I was out, and I fell to the ground of the outside world, a beam of light filtering through the trees, hitting me square in the face.
I basked in its glow for just a moment. Sunlight had never felt as good to me as it did in that exact moment. Then I lurched back to my feet and spun around to face the doorway.
My hands reached through the dirt and muck, searching once more for that switch. I found it more quickly this time and gave it another shove.
The ancient mechanism fired once again, and the door grinded and sputtered, closing almost all the way. Almost.
I shot the door an icy glare. “Really? That’s the best you can do?”
But I didn’t give it much thought. Hopefully, that would be enough to keep whatever evil wraith had tried to scare me at bay, for a little while at least.
One thing was for sure – I didn’t want to stick around and find out.
I worked my tired legs as hard as I could, every inch of distance a slight victory as I slogged through the forest, making my way back toward civilization with my new prizes in tow.
Another smile crept upon my face as I walked along the forest floor, my feet finally finding an actual worn path several minutes later as the trappings of modern existence started to come back into view.
I took in a deep breath of the fresh, mid-morning air as the fog all around me started to dry off and the sun gained in strength. It was a good day. The temperature was still mild, and the sun was shining overhead. Both good things when you’re potentially being chased by an evil spirit.
With my head held high, I took one last furtive glance at the barrow I’d recently vacated, and then I headed into the nearby town of Attleborough, making a beeline for the pub.
If my luck held, they’d be opening soon, and my lips were pretty parched. They likely wouldn’t have my favorite beverage, but just about anything would do after that harrowing experience.
I patted Grax’thor a few times and rummaged around in my pockets for any euros that might be hiding out there, then carried onward, the smell of hops and barley ushering me forth.
2
About two weeks had passed, and I was back in the heart of Seattle, Washington, mere inches from my happy place. A thick haze of smoke greeted me as I pushed open the nondescript wooden door and walked down the short staircase into the bar proper.
I know what you’re thinking, but it wasn’t cigarette smoke. That would be too cliché. Nah, this was sage with a hint of dragon’s blood on the backend. We magicy types are quite fond of our incense.
My nostrils took in the comforting scent, and the tension in my muscles instantly went slack, my mind and body starting to relax as I crept down the last two stairs, and my eyes took in the delightful sights before me.
I was finally home. Mei’s bar - the best bar for the magically-inclined in Washington, no, the best anywhere - stretched out in front of me in a wide arc. The floor and ceiling were covered in some sort of purple tile, and a long bar stretched out along the back wall, blocking off access to all the alcohol.
Perhaps a dozen stools sat at the base of the bar, half of them occupied, and Mei herself stood behind it, mindlessly polishing a glass with a rag in one hand, not even bothering to look up to see who it was that had come to visit her.
It was the loveliest sight I’d ever seen.
“The prodigal son returns!” a voice boomed out from within the room. It was Hank. Good old Hank. He was a werewolf on his off days, but I tried not to hold that against him. It’s not like he had any control over when he shifted, unlike some of the other magical creatures in the world.
I shot Hank my best smile and took a few steps forward, arms out wide.
“Hank!” I said. “Good to see you again!”
The big, burly man reached forward and joined me in the embrace. Even through his plaid shirt, I could feel all the tiny hairs that stuck out all over his body, but I didn’t mind. In that moment, it was the best feeling in the world just to be home.
Gosh, how I missed this place when I went on one of my adventures.
“Hey, it’s Damian!” another voice boomed out, sounding silky and altogether too sweet. That one was Sally’s. Sally moonlighted as a siren when she couldn’t find work at her usual job - cutting hair. Word on the street said she was a wizard with those shears.
Speaking of, I was due for a haircut. I’d have to hit her up for one later.
“Good to see you, too, Sally,” I said, a big grin on my face. I waved to her rather than hugged. Sire
ns weren’t really the huggy type.
“Welcome back, stranger,” another voice said, this time from right in front of me. I turned my head to look at her - my angel, the love of my bar life. Mei Wong.
She was a dragon. Well, sort of. Apparently, dragons can take on human form whenever they want, much like other shapeshifters, so at the moment she looked and sounded strikingly female, but when she wanted to, she could fly and roar with the best of them. I’d seen it myself a time or two, though not in ages. Humans tended to fear anything twenty times their size, which made it hard to get any work done around them in dragon form.
Right now, she had emerald green eyes and long, flowing hair of a matching color. It wasn’t her natural color, but I had no idea what was, or if there even was a “natural” for dragons. They could change that sort of thing at will, you know. Underneath those adoring eyes was a pair of glittering, rose-red lips, slightly puckered, curled into a neat-looking smile.
In any other world, I would have been head over heels for a girl with that kind of smile, but Mei and I were just friends, and I was in no hurry to change that dynamic. Not that she’d go for me anyway, I figured. Dragon clans had pesky rules about fraternizing with lowly humans. Plus she already had a boyfriend.
I still gave her a hug anyway. I reached my hands over the bar and gave her a couple pats on the back while she did the same for me, then we separated. I could smell just a hint of her perfume on her. It smelled like cucumber melon. My favorite scent.
“Hey, look everyone, Damian is back!” Mei shouted.
The rest of the heads that hadn’t been paying me attention all turned and grinned at me while I ate up the attention. I was somewhat of a legend at Mei’s bar. Well, maybe not a legend, but certainly a regular.
“Damian!” a chorus of voices chanted. “Welcome back!”
“Bonjour!” another voice said a moment later. It was Sevin.
I walked over to Sevin and put my arms around him, too. I was a pretty physical guy, really, at least where my friends were concerned.
