Chereads / Dealing with Dungeons / Chapter 2 - Hero in Distress

Chapter 2 - Hero in Distress

The sound of a deep growl snaps him out of his trance. "BAH!" he exclaims, jumping out of his skin in surprise. His head moves in the direction of the sound – there is nothing obvious to see, which makes him even more nervous. He takes two cautious backward steps, immediately regretting this little adventure.

 

You could have just stayed on your bike, you absolute idiot.

 

A massive creature steps into the room from the hallway Cole had come from, eyes scanning with predatory cunning. He knows this creature from what he learned in school, even though he's never seen one before. It is a warg: a wolf, fox, or other canine creature that has been altered by magic into a gruesome imitation of an animal. This specimen in particular stands six feet high at the shoulder. It bares fangs that dripped with strands of drool. A thick coat of matted and stinking brown fur covers the beast completely. The low growl is nonstop from the creature's throat, echoing in the small chamber. 

 

The warg's head turns. He spots Cole. The growl stops, and the room is silent. The tension throws Cole's nerves into a higher gear he didn't know existed.

 

A long moment passes in the silence. Finally the warg moves forward, launching off his back paws and leaping into the air, closing half the distance to Cole in the blink of an eye. Cole turns on his heel, rushing to the rear of the room where there stands a single door. He barrels towards it, his back tingling with the knife-sharp sensation of being hunted.

 

Please, I'm begging you, don't be locked.

 

His hand presses the lever-handle downward and the momentum of his body carries him through the doorway. The door slams shut as fast as it opened, Cole pressing his body against the door at nearly the exact same time that the warg pounds into the opposite side. The craftsmanship of the building was unlike anything in modern day, but Cole still didn't trust the door to hold the monster at bay for long. If there was a locking mechanism for the door, he couldn't find it.

 

He did, however, find all the missing chairs, stacked nested in one another and sitting orderly along two of the four walls. Against the third wall is an elaborately carved wooden desk.

 

THUMP.

 

Cole flinches at the sound of the warg's attacks on the door. He takes his backpack off his shoulder and tosses it onto the desk. He rifles through it until he finds what he was looking for: his revolver. Technically it belongs to the courier company, but it's been sitting at the bottom of his bag for two years now, unused.

 

If there was ever a time, he thinks with a sigh. The revolver is nestled snugly in its gun-belt holster, which Cole cinches onto his waist quickly.

 

THUMP. THUMP.

 

His heart pounding and hands shaking, Cole steps to the side of the door and draws the revolver. He takes a deep breath and waits for his moment.

 

THUMP.

 

As soon as the monster hits the door, Cole presses down on the latch, flinging the door wide. He manages to squeeze the trigger six times in quick succession, sending deafening claps into the air. The warg shrinks back from the force, even taking a backwards step.

 

Cole is crestfallen to see the bullets land ineffectually against the creature's impenetrable fur. Baffled, he drops the gun and slams the door shut again.

 

Well, that was useless. I can't believe I carried that around for this long thinking it was keeping me safe. Cole had to laugh at his own predicament. Maybe the thing will get bored and leave me alone.

 

THUMP. This time, the hard knock of the warg against the door is accompanied with a different sound – a creaking, breaking sound. Cole looks at the door. It's going to shatter, he realized.

 

With no other options in mind, Cole braces against the desk on the wall and starts to push it toward the doorway to form a barricade. 

 

He presses his back against the desk, which is snugly against the door.

 

THUMP.

 

The bottom half of the door is shedding long splinters now. Whatever material it was made from wouldn't last much longer.

 

Wait, what's that?

 

The impact knocks the desk drawers open, and Cole can see now that there is something glowing inside the left-hand drawer. He reaches in, closing his hand around the light. It is warm to the touch, hard and smooth. He withdraws his hand from the drawer to get a look at this object. The egg-shaped rock is steadily emitting a deep blue light. A magic stone.

 

Magic stones are used by enchanters to create magical items and equipment, they're highly valuable. Cole isn't involved in the industry, but even he knows that a stone of this size represents a value equal to several months of his salary in value. They are found in expedition sites fairly regularly – the First Era society depended on magic much more heavily than the Second Era civilization.

 

THUMP. More splinters. The door won't last long now.

 

He lifts the magic stone, cocking his arm back to throw it at the warg, his last pathetic defense against his inevitable doom. 

 

Something is off, though. The stone isn't as bright as before. The light dims rapidly, and in only seconds the object has become an inert stone. Cole casts it a puzzled look for only a second before realization flashes across his mind. He can feel the magic that was in the stone now pulsing in his veins. It is multiplying, spreading, seeding itself throughout his body entirely, and making changes in the process. His body trembles with chills and his flesh breaks out in goosebumps, his forehead covered in a cold sweat. The changes force him to take a knee, exhaling like the wind was knocked out of him. 

 

Cole's next inhale makes him feel like a completely new person, totally rejuvenated, feeling stronger and more capable than ever. He stands, and the door finally gives way to his enemy. The desk is sent flying against the back wall as the door disintegrates under the most recent attack by the warg. The creature bounds into the room toward him, jaws agape. He can only react by putting his arms up in front of him defensively.

 

The monster impacts him and bounces off his forearms with a pained whimper. Both combatants are equally baffled by this turn of events. They circle each other warily in the small storage room. Cole eyes the doorway, hoping to make a break for the exit. The warg seems to sense this and doubles back, unwilling to let the prey escape.

 

Okay, I'm technically a Hero now. What do Heroes do in situations like this? Magic?

 

Cole waves his arms back and forth in front of him, trying to summon up any sort of effect that might save him from this beast. Nothing happens. He tries to send a shockwave by stomping the ground. Nothing.

 

The warg seems to regain its confidence and steps in to bite at Cole again. He keeps his left arm up for protection and swings his right fist at the monstrous wolf. When he makes contact, he is first surprised at how soft and supple the creature's fur was on his hand. He's next surprised by how effective his punch was; the monster's body snaps backward violently, sprawling on the ground for a moment.

 

They clash again in the center of the room. The warg, now prepared for his opponent's strength, braces itself against Cole's attacks enough to stay upright. Likewise, Cole manages to keep his appendages outside the beast's vicelike jaws. They trade blows in this way for nearly two minutes, fighting to a standstill. When the monster catches Cole with a claw, his blood begins to flow freely.

 

There's only one way out of this, he thinks, making a grim decision. He takes two steps back and the creature lunges forward, jaws open. Cole stuffs his left arm into the creature's mouth as far as he can. The jaws clamp down on his arm, sending unimaginable pain through him. It's not severed, though, and that was his biggest concern. His left hand grabs a fistful of tongue. 

 

I've got you trapped now you giant idiot.

 

The warg flails its head left to right, shocked at this turn of events. Cole wastes no time, sending his fist down on its skull repeatedly, hammer-fist strikes back to back to back, in a furious frenzy. The beast wails, its mouth open, but the howl sound is mostly muffled. It staggers, slows. Relentlessly, Cole pounds away unrelentingly. He hears bone crack, unsure if the sound is coming from his fist or the warg's skull.