by Peter John
Awkwardly, my chin pressed against something. Wait what? I had a collar on. When had that….? My thoughts trailed off as I remembered that the Princess had also had a collar on.
I looked up to my foe’s triumphant eyes and realized he had watched each and every nuance and expression on my face and was savoring every victory as I was blocked at every turn. This was a magical shackle he had put on me when I was stunned. I wouldn’t be able to cast so much as a fart without his say so.
I was so crushed by my circumstances I barely heard when he passed my severed finger to his zombie slave and directed him to place it in the freezer. I barely heard, but with an intelligence as wired as mine was, with the euphoria of pain diminishing, I heard it, and inside…. I smiled.
“What is your name? Wait, let me guess... Bruce?” I croaked, because what else do you call a bad mannered Australian who had betrayed humankind? I certainly wasn’t calling him Mick. Mick was a good Aussie name. I especially liked Mick Dundee. He was a good ‘bloke’. Nothing like this prick.
Bruce turned back to me, his minion shuffling off to do his bidding. The freezer was six doors away. I didn’t have much time.
“What’s that digger? You want to talk to me now at last?” I saw his puzzled expression as he noticed I was no longer acting like a beaten dog. “Are you sure you want to get on my bad side? You’ve already pissed in my beer.”
“WHAT’S YOUR NAME!” I growled as loudly as I could.
“Well shit! You are a tough one, no doubt. Look mate, this is just business right. You have to do what I say or I’m gonna turn you into one of them…” He indicated the lady who was busy turning slowly, in absolute agony, into a zombie.
“You can’t use magic. Only I can take the collar off of you. No matter which way you look at it, you’re fucked. So I suggest, and it’s just a suggestion mind you, I suggest you treat ME…” He thrust his chest out at me and jabbed his thumb pointing at himself, then thrust his finger towards me, “with a little RESPECT!” His voice rose to a shout at the end. It would have been intimidating, maybe, if I hadn’t been so focused on his zombie. The one who had just walked down the passageway and into the storeroom with the freezers.
Wait for it…. wait for it.
BOOM!.
The thing about explosions, and especially loud and unexpected ones, is they always stun. The closer you are to one, the longer the stun. With regular training, the effects can be overcome. You should never underestimate the shock and awe value of an explosive device.
It had been a while since I had worked using stun grenades back on Earth, but the basics remained the same. Open your mouth to equalize the pressure inside your head and scrunch your eyes to prevent the flash from blinding you. Second nature to a vet like me.
This Bruce asshat had probably never met a stun grenade in his life. An explosion though, like the one I had set on the freezer, using two grenade size charges, was a whole few orders of magnitude worse than a stun grenade.
His eyes glazed over as the concussion and searing heat washed over us, reverberated past us, and on down the corridor. Plumes of debris and dust soon followed. His eyes widened and his expression turned confused. I didn’t care too much about that.
I lunged off the ground and slammed Bruce against the wall, then as he fell onto his hands and knees, I kicked him in the head.
The plate mail armor absorbed my initial attack, so he wasn’t hurt as I hurtled him like-for-like, sucker-punch for sucker-punch into the wall, but when I kicked his head, he was well and truly KTFO, head lolling, blood gushing from his lips. The ear hole where I had severed his ear was bleeding freely.
My second kick was thwarted though, the magic of the plate mail seemed to push the darkness to intercept my kick and I only caught him a glancing blow. He was out cold at least. For how long, I wasn’t sure. I wanted to make sure this cretin died and as I lowered to grab his hair and wrench his head back to break his neck; I saw another one of his Zombies racing to the scene. Shit! No magic, and no way to take this damn collar off without killing Bruce first. I also wasn’t sure what his magic armor would do to me if I grabbed him.
The zombie was behaving differently though. Erratic. It wasn’t here to protect its master. No, it was just a zombie now. The controller was unconscious. I had a chance. As long as I didn’t have the rest of them to contend with.
Stooping down I picked up my Katana from where it lay. The hilt still slick with my blood. That familiar feeling of shaking an old friend's hand. I could do this.
The healing process was still ongoing in my body, with regular twinges to testify to the process. I had most of the function back in my hands fortunately, although to hold the Katana with any real effort was not comforting to say the least. His breaking my arm must have caused nerve damage because I felt pins and needles all around my hand as it tried to heal.
I felt a hell of a lot better than I had two minutes before, though, and I could take on one of these Zombies one-on-one. I just had to be quick. The last thing I wanted was them all swarming me. Besides, I had a plan now, and it involved getting back down to those lower levels and setting the explosives there. Bruce had done a masterful job of wrecking the two detonators that had been lying in room six. That didn’t matter though. If Raúl had done his job, I should find two pillars on the lower levels, locked and loaded, ready to be activated. One thing I knew about Raúl was that he always did his job.
The creature sniffed at me, then turned its attention to the unconscious man lying at its feet. I had stepped back and was slowly edging my way backwards towards the elevator. No sudden moves, no turning around. My Katana perfectly balanced held out before me.
The zombie hissed and then tried to bite Bruce. The black swirling mass of the unconscious man’s plate mail reached out and touched it. Like an electric shock. The zombie flinched back like a whipped dog. Hissing louder now. Shit. if it made that noise it would attract the others. I had to get out of here. I saw Bruce twitch. He was coming around. Dammit, I had no time left. I turned and ran.
The zombie, with a target now, some form of running prey, shook off the shock and lunged for me. I started to run full tilt through the dust clouds towards the elevator shaft. I had to make it. Life couldn’t be so cruel to bring me so close only to fail at the finish line. Could it? Ah, who was I kidding. Life had never been fair. You suck it up and move on. And move on I did.
I passed door three. Coughing and running through this passage of death, filled with plumes of dust that made this mad dash farcical. I was relying completely on blind luck, literally, as each foot landed and I prayed for it to take me just a little bit further, praying for sure-footing where there was none to be had.
CHAPTER 37
Crushing blow
The lights had gone off in this section of the corridor, and there was a lot of rubble strewn about. Then it happened. My luck ran out. My foot came down right on the edge of a rock, my ankle twisted and I slipped and fell.
Fuck! I just had enough time to turn around onto my back and the monster was upon me. It’s four arms grappling, wrenching and tearing. The teeth never far behind. I struggled and reached out for my fallen sword. It had to be near me. Please let it be near me. My thoughts had only one absolute focus. Keep those biting teeth from me at all costs. For every arm I had, it had two, so no matter what I tried, how I maneuvered or what trick I pulled, it always had the upper hand. If I thought fighting four Orcs at once was hard on me in training, then I now learned the reason why.
More is always more. No respite, only more. It pinned my arms to the floor and without a pause, without even a moment to celebrate its triumph over me, it went straight for the throat. I barely had time to close my eyes.
The pressure of its bite was not as bad as I thought it would be. It had hit against me, hard enough to crack my head against the floor, but still, it seemed to struggle with taking hold of my neck. Then it dawned on me. The collar. The freaking creature was biting the collar! Yes! I thought. Y
es, at last! The dice were once again rolling sevens.
Renewed hope brought strength surging through me and I doubled my legs over and placed them, one under each armpit as all four of its arms held mine splayed out to the sides. Which one of its many armpits I had placed my feet under, I had no idea. It didn’t matter. there were so many to choose from. Armpits! ha, I was the King of Armpits mutha-fucker!
My feet firmly in place, I focused with all my might. All my considerable strength bunched into that one, single, upside-down squat. I could feel my head getting wrenched left and right, the zombie boring down, chewing and biting, trying to get at my throat. The pressure I exerted was going to snap my spine. I screamed in rage and I felt my veins throbbing as slowly. Ever so slowly, the collar began to tear off in the creature's mouth as it progressively chewed through the collar to get at my jugular.
I thought of Feldwebel Swart then, and his insistence to always push for one more rep, “Vone more Armpit!, Alvays vone more!” I thanked him then, as I gave that one last mighty heave. There! I could feel it breaking, and at last I did it. I actually did it, without tearing my head off!
My legs straightened, and with a rending tearing sound, the collar finally snapped. That stupid collar thing that kept my Mana at bay. I felt the Mana surge into me then. Pure, fresh, and heavenly cool Mana filled the void inside me.
It was the ignition point of the sun. Flame on! I screamed, and the zombie fell away, an undead inferno. Its head and torso on fire. The flames dancing eerily in the dust riddled corridor.
The movements of air as it fed the flames gave everything around me a surreal quality. Light from its burning hide dancing like an aurora across the stratosphere. To one side the glint of metal caught my eye and after two steps I grasped my faithful companion. It was my time to shine.
I also saw something else in the flickering light on the floor besides my Katana. Something pale, with a splash of red. A contorted thing, like a slug that had been flattened with a heel and the imprint of the heel still contouring its flesh.
When I realized what it was, I smiled and thanked all that was good with the world. I used my Katana to impale it, like a slice of meat on a kebab, it hung limply dripping blood from the tip.
The zombie was just standing. Flames licking across its face, hair and chest. Whatever remnants of clothes it had worn were now ash. The flesh of its face burned black and a putrid stench filled the air. I could see the lips had been burned off, only the teeth flashed white and unharmed. It was moaning gently, its eyes boiling and leaking out. I had to be quick, my magical 'Flame on’ attack had been brutal. I blamed my lack of control for the situation. Desperate times for desperate measures.
I turned towards it and extended my blade with the misshapen white thing on the tip. No, it wasn’t a marshmallow, although my thoughts did go in that direction. The pasty morsel dangled against the creature’s mouth. It snapped forward. Responding to the life force that remained in the ear and it bit down breaking some of its pearly whites on my blade. I jerked the blade back, minus the part of Bruce that I hoped this Reaver could swallow.
And swallow it did, because from down the corridor I had just departed not two minutes before, an ear-shattering scream reverberated. The scream was so hollow, so raw, and so very terrified that it made me flinch. If I had an ounce of pity left, I would have cried just hearing that scream, but instead, it brought a joyous pride to my smile.
A fierce and utter triumph surged through me as I knew I had just killed Bruce in the slowest and most agonizing way possible. My only regret was that I could not hang around to witness it.
Plans change. I wanted to survive to enjoy this victory. I left the smoldering Reaper to enjoy the gristly meal and left Bruce to die as he had done to so many others. Just desserts.
CHAPTER 38
The Lure of Escape
I made for the elevator shaft, more carefully this time, and then set the elevator to go up. I stepped out before the doors closed, waited for it to ascend, and then clambered down the shaft to the bowels of the Earth once more. It wouldn’t do to have Bruce get an easy exit. I didn’t know if he had an antidote for his curse, but in a few minutes it would matter not. This place was coming down!
The explosives were neatly packed at the base of either pillar. The det’s, like fresh cigars lying next to them. I set the timer in the first batch of explosives to 99, and at the second pillar I set the det to 90. I now had 90 seconds to get the heck out of Dodge. It would be a shame not to make it. I started to run. The last time I had traversed these halls, it had taken us 20 minutes. This time I had a minute and change. Time to haul ass!
I kept the count in my head as best I could. It was reaching 20 seconds, and I hadn’t reached the refuse pit yet. It was just around the corner and I could feel the ominous weight of rock and earth above me. When those explosives blew, it was all going to all come tumbling down. I was right beneath it. It couldn’t end like this, I had to run faster.
I approached the last bend when I realized that I actually would not make it to the ventilation shaft exit. After everything I had been through, how could I not survive? Please God give me strength. I have to get there. After being ready to give up everything, to throw my life in the way of these Reapers to destroy a monstrosity, then being given this lifeline only to have it snatched away again? It was too much to contemplate. I ran even faster. While running, I summoned my Katana. This epic gift from the Elves. If I had a chance, it would be miraculous. What is magic, if not miraculous?
The count reached zero, and the ground buckled and I went sprawling. Sound travels through solids much more quickly than in air, but the force and concussion wave, which hit me were even faster than that. It was barely a moment later when my scream of desperation was drowned out by a massive and all-pervasive explosion, that lifted me from my feet and propelled me even further into the last and lowest room of the catacombs, along with all the rot, sewage and decomposing refuse. Add in a couple thousand tonnes of rocks and I was in the oil-making business. Nope, I wanted to survive! I had to survive.
I focused all my will into creating a protective barrier around my being and I tapped deep into my Mana reserves, depleted as they were. My anger and sense of betrayal at how unfair the world was, honed my mind needle sharp. I tapped deeper still and even deeper than that. I felt something tear deep inside me. Time slowed as a flood of cool precious Mana poured into me, as the massive reserves of Mana stored in my gifted artifact emptied into me. I opened my heart and mind to them and they flowed and flowed, in, and around me, and they surrounded me, as I shaped the elemental magic draining from the gems within my epic item.
I conjured fire and then ice; I conjured fury and anger and let all my emotions flow; it was hysteria and mania; it was a pure unrelenting joy and psychotic abandon, and then when the fuel and the fury spent, and I had nothing left to give it was all gone.
Empty.
There was a wash of sizzling heat, the crash of stupendous sound and the thud and crush of unbearable pressure, and then as my vision went red, darkest black descended, and I knew no more.
The last sounds that entered my mind were by an unwelcome voice which said, “You are dying!”. I smiled at this and added my own inner voice, just two words, but if I was dying, it would be me who gets the last word, not some AI.
The thoughts tinged with pride carried me onward,
“Mission accomplished!”.
I awoke to the sound of tapping. It was an annoying sound. Tap, tap tap. Consistent and all-encompassing. It was pitch black and cloying around me and when I tried to move, almost every nerve screamed for me to be still. I listened to them. Panting at the effort, I moved my head to the source of the tapping and felt the cool wetness of moisture dripping onto my head. I fell unconscious again.
A while later I awoke. The tapping now a constant drip onto my head a kind of morse code that had no pause, no dash or dot, but the message it wrote into the universe and into my mind was that I was ali
ve. Barely. But even a spark is more than I had expected. How much time had passed I had no idea. The moisture had gathered in my hair and was sliding around my face, off my chin as gravity pulled the moisture ever deeper to the earth below me. It took a while for my thoughts to gather. For my mind to piece together what kind of predicament I was in. Alone, in the dark, stuck in a collapsed cavern, four floors below the ground. What to do and how to do it? I was a man of action.
I had nothing to gain but my death if I lay here and accepted my fate. Also, my brothers were in danger. Had Raúl made it out with the Princess? How would Mala behave when he found he was back with the Absinthe. I also had a score to settle with the Elf King.
Lastly, and most importantly. Had the explosives I had set against the support beam collapsed the entire complex or just the area I was in. With these thoughts, I began to move and assess my injuries. I also looked at my battle log.
I found to my amazement that not only did the battle log record my kills from the explosives upstairs; but it also awarded me bonus points for ingenuity, creativity, and improvisation. The message I had achieved the main objectives was a relief, but also disconcerting as I wondered how it could know if the Princess had made it out safely. I scanned past the “You have leveled up!” messages and found to my amazement that I was now level 45. I had a lot of skill points to distribute too but those could wait for later when I had a more clear understanding of where I was and what I needed to do. The screen began to flash as I narrowed in on important parts of my mission.
