Then with a dart I spring to the side and thrust my arm out and down at the tall creature.
Just when my claws are about to pierce his guts and he is about to drown in despair at his inevitable doom vivid from the fear in his mad eyes a speeding arrow creeps its way toward my shoulder.
I barely dodge by backing away.
"Gunter! Be careful!" cries ring in the cold. "The dungeon boss seems to be unclassified! We don't know of his powers!"
A squawk. Then silence.
A staredown.
We size each other up.
Tattooed and scarred abrim.
A toothy grin.
And an even wider hook-nose.
And a greenish and rough skin.
Pointed and long ears just like his arms that are thin yet as muscular as they can get.
A goblin?
More like an ogre and a goblin banged and had a child then 'Hooray!' they shouted and 'Gunter!' they called this very abomination before me and called it a day.
Gunter— he jumps at me— the tip pointed at my heart.
How crude.
I can see where he's aiming. So I dodge. Tighten my fingers. Then punch.
Yet—
Accelerate |E|
He dodges. He shifts. He switches to a horizontal slash. And slashes. All in an instant.
Fuck—
Blood spurts.
Accelerate |E|
He thrusts his shiny blade toward my heart before the blood can even fall. Before I can even process the pain in its entirety.
I dodge this time. To the left. Though barely.
An arrow pierces my chest.
Paralyze |E|
"Got him!"
Shock. Despair. And—
Accelerate |E|
Here he comes.
I try to dodge—
Shackle |F|
Something grabs at my feet.
Shit—
Gunter pierces my heart before I know it.
My body splays onto the floor as my skull cracks. Blood. Blood everywhere. Pain. Pain anywhere. My head–mmy–my hea-he-ha… Ha— HAHAHAHA
…
"He almost got me there," says Gunter, turning to look at the individual who approaches from afar.
"Thanks, Estia."
Estia lowers her bow, puffing her cheeks. "You'll get killed with such recklessness."
Her autumn hair sways, falling past her red eyes and flushed, pointy ears as she stops before Gunter, looking up at him.
An elf?
Gunter stares past the elf. "You too, human. If you didn't shackle him, it could've gotten troublesome."
"I have a name, you know?" insists the woman, approaching with slender steps.
With amber hair and triple folds on her robe, the trim of her cape hangs like pleats. Her leggings circle downward from left and right, intertwining.
A human indeed.
"To think there'd be a lesser demon at such a dungeon."
She adjusts her purplish pointy hat with one hand and presses a magical book against her flat chest with the other.
Just the three of them? Gunter, his elven bitch, and a woman.
I look at the vaulted ceiling through the vast space. The moonlight barely streams through its cracks, fissures which are covered by decay and neglect.
It smells funny; of my blood and the moist stone. I can barely breathe without hitching in this humidity. The moss on the floor tickles my bare body.
"Should we sell or absorb the dungeon core?" asks the elven bitch. "You risked your life there, and we wouldn't have come to this dungeon on our way back were it not for your suggestion. I wouldn't mind if you took it, Gunter."
I tilt my head to the left and glance at the shining orb. Crimson orb. It's hovering above a pedestal, calling to me. Is that what's keeping me alive? The dungeon core?
My body begins to glow red.
The Devil's Wrath |E|*
"In all fairness, we wouldn't have found it if Miss Wizard didn't detect it. She found it the very moment the dungeon formed." Gunter catches his breath and runs a hand through his iron-colored, spiky hair, which stands upward and slightly outward. "Do you mind if I do?"
The woman shakes her head hesitantly. "You did the most job, so it's fine by me too. You can absorb the orb."
The three come to a tacit agreement.
"We can still earn a lot by selling the demon's corpse—" Until the elven bitch pales in terror.
"Huh? What's happe—"
"BEHI—!"
Late, bitch.
I hug Gunter dearly, tenderly clasping my right hand on his heart over his shoulder, my left hand on his chin over his neck.
He gasps in shock.
Empower |E|
He strikes his elbow to my lungs with a maddening force. I cough in a fit of blood, my insides turning upside down, churning.
Yet I don't let go.
Shackle |F|
Luminescent blue ropes tie my hands, invisible weights.
Yet it's nothing.
I screw his head like a rusted bolt. It strips and snaps. The shackles, the resistance, the life.
He dies in an instant, his neck twisted and broken.
I use his body as a shield to defend against the oncoming elf.
Her knife pierces into Gunter's stomach.
"YOU BASTARD!"
Without losing momentum, I pierce through the corpse and lunge at the elf, pulling her to the floor while plucking her eyes with my claws.
"ARGHHHH—!"
I lift my hand, downing it in a punch. Her nose cracks.
"Hahaha…"
I strike, and strike, and strike.
We roll and roll before my grip drives the life out of her.
Magic Missile |F+|
Magic Bullet |F|
Things hit my back. I don't give a fuck.
I strike, then strike, then strike, and strike, strike.
I grip her breasts, popping them.
Blood, blood, blood, blood, blood.
Blood flows, blood rivers, blood pools, more blood, even more bloooooooo—
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHQAHAZHAHAHAHAHR—"
I feel ecstatic, so much so that I bend and lick the bloodied innards, chewing on the brain matter.
Disgusting. I spit my meal. I then lick what I spat and devour the rest up until I can't help myself anymore.
AAhhhhhhh. HOW exhilarating. How, how, how—
I feel danger. I look back at the woman who rushes toward the red orb.
My orb? My precious little orb? She wants to absorb it! She wants to steal what's mine?!?!
I glance sideways at the corpse of a goblin lying in a pool of blood. Extending my hand, I tear his head off and catapult it at the girl.
She glances back with fright.
Magic Shield |F+|
A transparent blue shield breaks the very moment it forms.
The head crushes her, sending her crashing into the wall.
She lies in crumbles and doesn't budge an inch. Weak, bloodied.
No. No-no. NO NO NO NO NO
YOU CAN'T DIE! YOU CANNOT DIE!!!
TOO LITTLE SUFFERING! SHE JUST DIED? JUST DIED?! IT CAN'T BE NO IT CANNOT BE!
I want to kill her slowly. Watch her go from hopeful to despair. Watch her beg for forgiveness and cry blood.
I want to tear her body parts and feed them to her while tearing apart her other body parts.
I want to skin her alive and grill her innards with that magic of hers while chewing on her guts.
I want to stamp on her face and then stamp and tramp and once more stamp until she's inscribed to the floor in a pile of piss and snot.
"HEY!"
I extend my bloodied, veiny hand. Sharp, black-clawed, crimson-glowing. Pointing at her with a single finger.
"HEY SAY SOMETHING!"
Her pathetic state invokes anger in me.
"SURELY YOU DON'T THINK YOUR LIFE IS YOURS!"
I roar, the shrills grinding the walls in a very manifestation of wicked and tremendous power before cracking and upsurging like a throat sewn with razors.
"LIVE! COME BACK! LIVE TO DIE! IN PEACE AND PIECES!"
Limping, I stride toward her, my hands clenching, grinding the pretty face of an elf, the head of which I don't even remember snapping. I grind my teeth against the corpse's skull, crunching the bones and chewing on the veins.
Finally, I stand before her. I look at her miserable figure, a cracked forehead, bleeding ears, and teary eyes, and, shiver. Shiver? She shivers?
"So, you're alive…"
"So you're alive… and well…"
"Well."
"WELL WELL WELL"
She presses her hands hard against her ears, her shoulders trembling.
"WOULD YOU LOOK AT THIS"
Bending to my knees in excitement, I caress her cheeks. My claws leave scrapes, and blood flows. All I see is fear, and I like it. I love it. More. MORE. How can I make her even more miserable? For the sin of storming bullets and missiles onto my back, for the sin of daring to obstruct me, for the sin of existing.
Too, too many unforgivable sins.
I can't I CAAN'T. This is infuriating. TOO infuriating.
Against my will, my other hand moves on its own, about to come down on— dawn on the girl's dreadful face.
"Mommy…" she murmurs, her face covered in snot. "I'm sorry…"
No. Stop. STOP. She can't just die like that, right? She can't die without experiencing the pain so excruciating, so agonizing, that she begs for it like a starving orphan, only to be killed in anguish and horror.
"I'm so, so sorry…" she whispers under her breath, regret washing over her.
My hand falters before touching her face. It stops. The glowing red begins to pass off.
HAND WHY DID YOU STOP HAND WHY DID YOU STOP
"HAHAHAHAHAHA!" I laugh crazily.
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA—" I keep laughing crazily.
"HAhAhhahaha… ha…hh" I cry crazily. Tears fall. My eyes. Why is that? My vision…
She finally opens her eyes, locking them with mine, determination there. Determination to accept her inevitable doom.
"Begone…" I shout at her, my spit falling all over her face.
Yet my hands don't move. My body doesn't move. I stay frozen.
Why is that?
Her eyes widen, looking at me incredulously.
Why is that? Why…
"What have I become?" I ask.
I strike right, ripping into the walls like it's nothing. The red wears off.