When Milo awoke, he felt warm. Not pained in the slightest, despite his earlier agonies. As he slowly sat up, he took in his surroundings. This wasn't his home back in Japan, that was for sure… cold gray stone blocks made up the entire chambers walls, floor, and ceiling. A single orange light illuminated the small room from the opposite end of metal bars. His eyes widened at seeing those bars, realizing just where he was.
Locked in a cell.
He stood up from a thick pile of itchy hay, taking his shirt off and shaking it free of any remaining strands. Putting his shirt back on, he approached the black bars, looking them up and down. They were pretty thin as far as jail bars went, maybe only five-eighths of an inch wide. They were too close together for him to stick his face through and see what else was out there unfortunately.
Was there a window? He looked up and down the walls of his cell, but saw that there were no other openings besides the bars. He shook his head, pacing back and forth in his small cell as he thought. It was only about three paces wide, so he didn't have a lot of room to move around. He rummaged through his pockets, finding that they were empty. No cell phone or keys. Must have been confiscated… How had he gotten here again?
That weird green oval! That was right...What was that floating green booger he punched to save that kid? It had eaten him, Milo could remember that well enough. What came after that was lots and lots of pain, with people talking over him… what were they talking about? They were saying that Milo was a vessel right? What the hell did they mean by that?
He did remember that one of them kicked him in the face, probably the muscle girl… what had her name been? It certainly hadn't been Japanese. Milo had never been to jail… not in Japan anyway, but he was very certain that those two hadn't been cops. Cops don't wear gray robes and talk about surfing the waves. He was pretty sure they had said something about waves, but he couldn't quite remember what.
They hadn't read him his rights or anything either. If they were cops, they would have had to do that. Milo shook his head, they had not been cops, he needed to get that theory out of his head. He was in a cell though… and his bed was made out of hay. It was like they locked him up inside a medieval dungeon. Milo's neck hair stood on end when he came up with another idea for who his captors were.
They could be weirdo cult people that wanted to carve up his giblets to summon a mothership or something! Milo shook his head again, that was certainly not happening, especially with how much effort he put into pumping these giblets full of muscle. He patted his ribs and did some light stretches, but found that he wasn't sore anywhere.
His muscles weren't even aching from his time at the gym, there was no way he had been out for that long... Either way, these weirdo cult people weren't going to make him drink their damn kool-aid, not if he had anything to say about it. He glared at the bars. They were set into the stone from foot to ceiling and Milo considered.
Could he bend these? He had bent metal bars before, but those hadn't been set into stone like these. Milo shook his head. The bars he had bent were way thicker than this, even with the support of the floor and ceiling, they'd be no match for his muscles. Did he have to bend the bars though? He noticed a lock on a section of the bars to his left, and a small break in the uniformity of the bars. So that was the door?
Milo didn't know how to lock pick, but he didn't think he needed to. The door wasn't set into the ceiling or floor, it was a large rectangular section connected to the bars themselves. He could rip that thing right out of its hinges, but it would be loud as hell. He'd need to book it after he removed it, or the cultists catch him for sure.
If they had guns then Milo was pretty much screwed, but he'd rather take the risk of getting shot rather than-
Many short humanoid forms passed his jail cell then, maybe ten in all. Milo stared dumbfounded after them as they passed. Long pointed noses and dark green wart-covered faces eerily similar to that of a Halloween witch mask. Midgets wearing Halloween costumes? Besides the masks, the midgets were clad in shiny black plate armor with a matching metal skullcap.
They also wielded what looked like spears; the points of which looked very real. They were a little too long for their stubby forms, many opting to use it as a walking stick or holding the shaft with both hands over their shoulder. The midgets only came up to Milo's knees… but he felt unsettled looking at those masks. They looked almost real, not like well made plastic, but real living flesh.
One of the short stacks noticed Milo staring, and stopped in place, glaring at him. Milo then jumped back from the bars as the mask moved. The thing's mouth twisted up in a grin at seeing Milo's reaction, and it pointed at him, giving a loud gargling laugh. The others stopped in place as well, looking into the cell to see Milo scared witless with his back pressed up against the far wall. The creatures then all began to jeer and mock him in an unintelligible tongue, their masks… no, their faces moving as they did so.
Milo shuddered to see the inhuman things speak, the little monsters trailing off their laughs and continuing down the hallway. Milo took a breath. Monsters were real and they were ugly as hell. His mind raced as he thought of what else may inhabit these cold stone corridors. He shook his head, clenching his jaw.
He was still fully intent on getting the hell out of here, Milo wouldn't hide in the cell until something worse came for him. He strained his ears as he stepped in front of the jail door, trying to hear footsteps. Those little freaks were still marching away, getting farther and farther from his current position. Once their footfalls were out of earshot, he gripped the bars of the door, bracing his feet against them as he pulled.
At first, nothing gave way, but after a few seconds of straining, the bars began to bend toward him. He then heard creaking from the hinges as he pulled harder. Milo took a big breath, and gave a final mighty heave, snapping the door right from its hinges and tumbling onto his back. The loud snap echoed down the corridor, and he could hear gargling shouts echo down the hall. It came from where the little freaks had tramped off to and Milo had no intention on waiting for them to come back.
He heaved the door easily off of him as he stood, maintaining his grip on it as he entered the narrow hall. The corridor was so narrow that his broad shoulders nearly brushed against the cool walls as he moved. Noting this, he wedged the broken off door between the still-standing jail bars and the stone wall, leaving it slanted. That would slow them down for a little bit surely.
He looked to the opposite end of the corridor, seeing that several torches lined the wall all the way down to illuminate a large dark metal door. The shouts were drawing closer now, and Milo ran, his heavy footfalls echoing in his ears. His spine felt icy as he thought of the sharp spears the creatures wielded.
How fast could they run with those little legs and full armor? Surely they couldn't be that quick, but he didn't know for sure. Hopefully, that broken-off jail door would slow them as they would surely have to crawl under it to pass. As the door drew closer, he noticed a pair of small beady eyes glaring at him from the darkness.
Couched on one knee in front of the doors was another one of the short goblin-looking creatures, spear extended for Milo to impale himself on. He slowed with a curse, taking brief glances into the cells he passed. All were devoid of anything, save a pile of hay and a bucket in the corner. Soon he was forced to come to a stop several feet before the goblin-looking thing, the creature grinning as he did so.
It did not move to rise, and the shouts from the larger patrol were getting closer. He could hear the clanking of their armor and the short footfalls. The goblin was perfectly fine with waiting for it's buddies to run up behind Milo.
Thinking fast, Milo grabbed up a torch from the wall next to him, and threw it full force at the goblin. It flew end over end, the orange flame almost hitting the goblin in the face.
It narrowly dodged it by falling flat on its back, it's spear now pointing at the ceiling. Instinct pushed Milo forth, and he grabbed the long shaft of the spear and yanked it from the goblin. It shouted in surprise and tried to rise to it's feet. Milo's eyes went wide, and before he realized what he was doing, he found himself stomping on it's head.
The first stomp crushed it's long nose flat against it's face, and it gave a cry of agony. Clear tears ran down the goblin's cheeks as it moved a hand to cradle it's broken nose. Milo stomped another time, knocking it's head against the stone with a sickening crunch of bone. The goblin's hand fell to the floor, and gave a single twitch. Milo stomped a third time, feeling wet blood soak through his sneaker. His breathing was rapid, adrenaline coursing through his system.
The shouts were right behind him now, forcing Milo to run for the doors. He reached for the door handle with his free hand, keeping a firm grip on the spear. The handle was a copper-colored ring of metal, the shine gone under a layer of grime. Milo yanked it open with all his strength, quickly moving through the now open doorway. He tried to slam the door shut behind him, but cursed as he met unexpected resistance.
A goblin had poked it's head through the gap just as Milo slammed the door, preventing him from shutting it completely. A yellow bruise was quickly forming on it's neck, the force of Milo's slam having seriously injured it. Dark red blood exploded onto Milo's shirt as the thing coughed at him, face twisting up in agony. It tried to pull it's head out from between the metal door and stone frame, it's slightly pointed ears curling up against it's temples from the pressure. Panicking, Milo then began to force the door closed on it's throat.
The goblin's neck snapped beneath the pressure, it's black eyes going glassy as it died. Milo pulled harder, until the throat was crushed completely flat, dark red blood seeping down to pool on the floor. Even then Milo still kept pulling, hearing the startled cries of the monsters on the other side of the door. Its head fell to the ground, the throat hole pinched almost completely shut from the pressure. Milo didn't stop to think about what he had just done, instead he took the spear, and rammed it through the door loop. The whole spear was longer than the doorway, and it clattered against the stone archway as the goblins on the other side attempted to pull the door open once more.
The shaft was thick enough that it could likely hold it fast shut against such tiny creatures. Milo didn't wait to find out though, and still panicking, ran through this new room. He ran between many tall wooden shelves that were stocked with several glass vials. They were all filled with multi-colored roiling fluids, looking like miniature lava lamps. The dim glow these gave barely lit the many corridors of shelves he ran through.
Wooden floorboards resounded with hollow thuds beneath his running feet, and a few shelves were knocked over as he bumped into them accidentally. This caused several domino effects that raced all around him. The vials they contained shattered as they hit the ground, the many colors mixing together as they pooled on the floor. He could hear several hissing cries of alarm from around this massive area, the sound mixing with shattering glass and collapsing wood.
Milo thought he heard something rough dragging across the ground ahead of him. The silhouette that came into view was Milo's own size, but it moved oddly, zig-zagging forward quickly.
"What isssss the meaning of thissssss?" The form hissed at Milo as it drew closer.
It was then that Milo saw the things true form. The light of the vials illuminated the black scaly figure, a long tail stretching several feet back to another metal door, this one with light peeking out from beneath it. The thing had the head of a cobra, complete with long white fangs the length of Milo's forearms. Milo's fight instinct kicked into high gear, his terror reaching an all-time high.
It's bright green eyes widened in what might have been surprise at seeing Milo, and it rose two thin scaled arms palm out toward him. Milo screamed at the monstrosity, and charged at it, his fight response completely overwhelming the urge to flee.
Milo grabbed the snake man's arms and slammed it as hard as he could into a nearby shelf, knocking the air out of the monster. The shelf cracked, falling over and causing another domino effect where other shelves were knocked down one after the other. Milo let go, leaving the wheezing creature laying there, stunned. He ran to the door and pulled it open, shutting it behind him as an explosion sounded from the room he just left.
It left a faint ringing in his ears… if this whole place wasn't alerted before, they would be now.
Cries of hissing agony could be heard but Milo didn't dare go back in. Another long stone hallway greeted him, illuminated by several dozen torches. Single-person wide wooden doors were evenly spaced from one another on each side of the corridor, each with a different kind of symbol etched above the handle. He opened the first door on his right, seeing that the symbol for this one was a cobra head. The light revealed that it was an empty bedroom… though the chamber was odd.
From the light of the hall he could see that the left side of the room had a trough with a wide drain grate in its center. Up against the right wall was large dinner table-sized sloped red rock. Even from here Milo could feel the heat radiating from it. A bookshelf on the far wall of the room was beneath a wide portrait depicting a large serpentine creature with two clawed arms. Oddly, the thing was holding a book, seemingly reading the contents wearing odd goggled spectacles. It wore a brown suit with a white undershirt, a red bow tie worn at the base of the neck.
He looked to the grate in the trough, was that for sewage?
It looked wide enough for him to crawl through… if it really was for sewage then that meant that it'd lead outside right? Pushing aside all sense of disgust for what he was about to do, he silently closed the door behind him. Despite being separated by two doors and stone walls, he could still hear panicked shouts from the room he had just left.
Locking the door, he backed away, taking several deep breaths to try and calm himself. Milo dare not think on what had just happened yet, that would be for later when he was safe and sound. He leaned down on all fours, and sniffed the trough, smelling foul air and realizing that yes… this was surely for sewage. He gripped the grate as he wrinkled his nose, and easily ripped it free from the hole. It hadn't been secured tightly, maybe that was on purpose?
He placed the grate silently next to the hole, and peered down into the darkness. Milo couldn't see a damn thing. Cursing, he approached the door, placing an ear to the wood to listen for footsteps. Indeed, he did hear the sound of short footfalls followed by gargling angry cries. Thankfully, what must have been the goblins ran right past his hiding place.
They likely thought he ran for the door at the end of the hallway. He waited until he couldn't hear them anymore, and opened the door, peaking his head down the hall to see the little bastards all raving as they opened the door at the far end of the hall. Milo quickly glanced in the opposite direction, seeing that the goblins had left the door to that snake room wide open as they passed.
Roaring flames of every color rose over the knocked down shelves, slithering snake-shaped silhouettes frantically shouting and dousing the strange fire with buckets of liquid. The snake guys were distracted and the goblins were leaving… he stepped out into the hall as the gobs opened the door, two of them working together to pull it open.
Milo quickly removed the nearest torch from it's sconce, the wooden handle snug tight in the metal. Grasping his torch firmly in hand, he silently crept back into the bedroom, closing the door and locking it once more. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. Everything had gone so bonkers insane that Milo was starting to think this was all a dream.
If it was, it was the most lucid dream he'd ever had in his life. No, this was all actually happening, he was sure of it. Milo held the torch over the hole, seeing a slow-moving river of dark sludge passing below. The smell as before was vile but it was either this, or the monsters that stalked the halls. He grimaced as he lowered himself slowly down the hole, gripping the ledge with his free hand as he did so.
Milo was soon dangling from the ledge, trying his best to ignore the rank stink that entered his nostrils. It was like rotten eggs marinated in a bottle of dehydrated urine. Milo almost puked as he made his descent, but steeled himself as best he could. He estimated that the drop down into the roiling river of yuck was around ten feet. Was it deep enough to prevent Milo from breaking any bones?
He shook his head as he looked to the walls of the sewer. Maybe there was a platform he could land on instead? He swept his torch to the left, but saw that the darkness stretched further than he could see in that direction. Milo then swept his torch to the right, and was greeted with a curved stone wall. He looked down the curve of the wall, seeing that, yes, there was a smooth stone walkway that ran alongside the shit river. There was a problem though…
It was only slightly above the sewage stream, meaning that if he tried to land on it, he could break his legs. Milo considered his options. He could get out of this stink pipe and take his chances with the monsters… or he could drop into that raw sewage and see where it took him. He could also try and swing his way onto the platform… but if he broke his legs that would be it, his escape would be ruined and he may drown in raw sewage. All options sounded equally horrid to Milo, and just as he made his final decision, he heard the door to the bedroom open above.
The unexpected sound shocked Milo, causing him to lose his grip momentarily on the torch. He scrambled to catch it, but ended up batting it away instead, thankfully not making skin contact with the flame but losing his only light source. He watched as the flame made contact with the vile fluid. Flame exploded across the shit river in an instant, lighting the whole cavernous space as it spread quickly.
Milo screamed as the flame suddenly rose, almost engulfing his feet. He quickly pulled up out of the sewer grate. He came to a squat as he cleared the hole, jumping forward as the flame licked the back of his shorts. He jumped up with a yelp, running up out of the trough in a panic.
Milo didn't bother pulling his flaming shorts down, instead opting to rip them clean off. The flaming shorts came off easily, and he noticed at the same time that a snake person was now standing in the doorway. It held a small key in it's scaly hand, and it resembled the snake depicted in the painting that hung on the wall behind him, goggles and everything.
Milo threw the flaming shorts at the creature, who batted it away with a hiss. Milo charged at the thing, clad only in his tank top and plaid boxers, ramming his shoulder into it's face and knocking it back into the hall. The back of it's head struck the door opposite of the opening, and panicking, Milo ran up over its long tail, and kicked it in the snout. It's head rebounded off the door again, and the snake's arms fell to its sides. Not knowing quite what he was doing, he gripped one of it's large fangs, and yanked it out with a spray of blood.
It was as long as his forearm and lightweight with a sharp point. Milo then ran off, leaving the snake man unconscious and missing a fang. Why had he done that? Milo ignored the thought, running to the door the goblins had disappeared through. Black smoke was now curling out from beneath the other doors, quickly flooding the hall.
He needed to get out of here quick, before he suffocated. If those sewer pipes ran all through the building, there was gonna be lots of smoke. He opened the door at the end of the hall, fresh air hitting his face. A dark night sky filled with bright stars lit a dirt courtyard, a square field the size of a basketball court.
Four tall stone walls stretched up higher than a water tower, with large black iron-barred gates on each of the other three walls. All but one was lowered completely, with the gate on the left wall being halfway raised. He'd need to duck, but Milo could easily get through there. He ran for it, gripping his snake fang tight as he went.
He ducked under the gate, entering into a wide stone corridor illuminated by more torches. Pitch black wagons and what looked to be old-timey carriages of the same hue sat in their own respective pens, with massive black horses occupying their own separate enclosures. Many barrels and crates were placed next to each pen, many of them having been tipped over or broken open to reveal their contents.
The reason for this was revealed as Milo saw ahead of him a group of black-armored goblins knocking over large barrels and prying open wide crates. Were they looking for him? Did they think he hid in one of the crates? At the far end of the corridor lay another iron gate, this one completely lowered. Long thin unbroken trails led in and out of the pens and toward that gate, likely they were made by the wagon wheels.
Was that the exit? There had to be a way to open it from this side right? He crept forward, intent on sneaking past the gobs by crossing the wagon pens. Why hadn't they checked those? Maybe they already had, Milo wasn't sure. This low crouch was uncomfortable, but his muscular legs could maintain this pose for a long time yet. He moved forward slowly-
Something hard slammed into the back of Milo's neck. It felt like a toddler just took a wack at him with a wiffle ball bat. He twisted, ignoring the faint pain of his neck to see a goblin at eye level with him. Those beady black eyes widened in surprise, and it gave a shout of alarm as it took a step back. Milo cursed as it swung it's bludgeon at his head, barely ducking back and avoiding a blow that would have broke his nose.
It looked like a billy club used by British police officers but made of sturdy hardwood. Milo stood from the ground, pointing the snake fang at the little thing. He heard footsteps quickly approaching, along with the clink and clang of plated armor. The others were coming. Milo backed away from the club-wielding goblin, his back quickly colliding with the fence of one of the pens.
The big black horse within whinnied in anger, headbutting the gate in front of it and shaking the whole pen. It continued doing this, ramming its head against the pen gate in an attempt to break through it. The goblin jumped back at this, and Milo took advantage of it's distraction, kicking it in the nose with a crunch of cartilage. It flew back end over end before coming to a stop, limp and unconscious on its back.
He then rounded the pen, passing into the aisle between this one and the one next to it. He came out the other side, seeing the goblins standing over their comrade, trying to help it up. One of the gobs was looking right at Milo, and it screamed when it saw him.
Milo then opened the pen door, undoing the chain clasp locking it closed and flinging it open. The angry horse charged out, bucking and snarling with it's mouth wide open. Much to his shock, this horse appeared to have sharp pointed teeth like that of a shark. It was snapping it's jaws open and shut, bubbling green froth falling to the dirt. Milo quickly ducked back into the aisle before it could spot him, not wanting any part of that green spittle or sharp teeth.
Milo heard hooves trampling armored flesh as he ran down past the aisles toward the gate, not bothering to sneak any longer. Milo slapped the other horse pens as he passed them, hoping that the creatures would serve as a distraction for any other pursuers. The monstrous equine beasts within reacted violently, bashing their skulls against the pens and rearing back to kick the wooden gates that trapped them.
Milo had no idea what kind of wood that was, but it had to have been damn strong to take that kind of punishment. He rounded the corner at the end of the aisle, seeing a goblin staring wide-eyed toward the neighing monster horse. It's knees shook visibly and the spear it wielded was held wardingly in that direction.
Milo tackled it to the ground and stabbed it in the eye with his snake fang, puncturing it's brain and killing it instantly. Milo suddenly felt sick to his stomach but ignored the feeling, looking instead for any way he could raise the gate. There, on the right-hand side was a looped chain. Could he raise the gate with that?
He ran to it, glancing to see that the horse had been impaled through the throat by a spear, purple blood leaking down its dark hair as it rampaged. The goblins that had survived were now simply waiting the thing out, darting back into the aisles as it slowly bled out. The horse rotated as it bucked, showing that it had been stabbed through with several dozen spears.
This didn't mean that the goblins had gotten off without casualties. Four goblins were spread out around the bucking creature, limbs twisted in the wrong direction and skulls turned to mush from kicking hooves. Milo looked back to the chain as he closed the gap and firmly gripped the oily metal. He grunted as he pulled it down, hand over hand, and thankfully, the gate rose with his motion.
When it was halfway raised, Milo let go, pausing a second to make sure it wouldn't fall down. After it didn't, he crawled underneath the gate, and ran for the hills, not stopping for anything. The cool night air of summer cooled his hot sweat as he ran. Milo could see that he was running through a wide-open grassy plain, a light breeze shifting the knee-high grass. His sneakers pounded against a well-worn dirt trail that cut through the otherwise unbroken plane.
He kept running for what felt like an eternity until finally, his breath gave out. He slowed to a quick walk, taking several deep breaths as he placed his hands on his hips. The panic was still there, urging him to flee farther… but his heavy body refused to keep up with it's demands. He was built for weightlifting, not long-distance running.
Despite that, he estimated that he had ran many miles straight without stopping. Both of his sides were stitched with pain and his entire body was coated with sweat. He looked back, seeing that wherever he had escaped from was long out of sight. He realized then that he hadn't stopped to see what the place had actually been… Milo hadn't looked back at all, fear pushing him forward.
Well, he was sure as hell not going back to take a peak. Now… where the hell was he? Milo didn't think this was Japan, those robed people spoke in English… and Japan wasn't exactly known for its native snake person population; not to mention the goblins. He took another deep breath and looked to the night sky.
The sight that greeted him stopped him in place as he stared dumbfounded at the three orbs in the sky. Three moons, each of a different size and hue. The largest was the normal white, yet there was no scaring upon it's surface… as if it were a completely smooth pool ball. The second smaller one was a bright green, with a surface covered in webbed scars, like a giant space spider had decided to set up shop upon it. The final moon, and the most disturbing of the three, was a pure black orb. He was just barely able to discern it from the night sky, but it was certainly there.
Milo fell back onto his ass as he continued to stare.
Where
The hell
Was he?