The din of the rust wing crow’s calls in the blue skies, and the distant clanging of metal against metal mixed together in an eerie symphony that accompanied me as walked deeper into the Scrapyard. The ground never felt steady underfoot, and I found out why at a quick glance. The rusty pellets that covered the ground like sand on a beach constantly moved and shifted as if caught in some invisible tide that pulled them toward the spires of scrap metal. One of these spires beside me suddenly jutted upwards, as if pushed up from the bottom. A few pieces of loose scrap near the top toppled down; colliding against the smaller scrap along the bottom, before either catching on something or falling to the ground.

A couple of Rust Caps were hidden in the shade cast by the scrap mountains, and I finished collecting all that I needed for the job, and a little extra as well. My Foraging increased by an additional 3%, my Agility by 2%, and my Perception by 1.5% because of that. There were a few power chords as well, dangling off appliances. When they were reachable I would climb up to them, cut them off with my knife, and strip the wire sheathes to get the copper wires within. Each one increased my Scavenging by 2.5% as copper and my Perception by 1.0% further, as copper was considered a rare material.

I searched for an hour and a half for the steel plates; and while they weren’t exactly rare, most were too high up to do anything about. Near the beginning of the Scrapyard, there were a couple about ten feet up. I thought of climbing up to get them, but the, ‘shelves,’ of iron around them were unsteady; they leaned on nearly dislodged pieces of rusted metal. No crows approached me. I learned from the Encyclopedia that the Rust-Winged Crows normally didn’t attack humans, so I searched around the area, and right above the beam that held the plate, there was a nest made of snipped wire; inside were three rust-colored eggs. I snagged them and put them inside of the draw pouch to keep them safe.

I was halfway through the job of collecting steel plates when something shifted beneath one of the piles. Fearing that it was beginning to rise like a few of the others that I had witnessed, I backed away, when something I hadn’t expected squeezed its way out from the sparse empty space near the bottom; a rat. A rat the size of a gray-hound. Its claws dug into the rusted earth, and its ears were torn here and there as if it had recently emerged victorious in some rat power struggle. Its worm-like tail wrapped around its long back legs, as it chittered at me; its yellow, flat teeth bared to the morning sun.

I shifted my foot, and it took a step forward. I slowly reached for my pistol stuck to my belt. I slipped it out of its leather holster and raised it. It snapped its large teeth at me, as it stepped forward again. The gun roared to life, and the bullet zipped past it; slamming against a metallic pole inside of the pile of scrap behind it. The rat rushed forward. I fired again. The bullet singed its hair before it tore a small line against its flank and kicked up a cloud of dust as it stuck into the ground.

The rat launched itself at me latched onto my leg and waist, and dug its teeth into the thick pants I had gotten from the Company, as its claws worked to tear cloth and flesh apart to topple me. The scrap piles all around me began to stir, as glowing eyes and chittering teeth emerged from the shadow as fifteen rats came screaming at me. Most of them were smaller than the initial attacker, while some were barely larger than regular rats. I pressed the pistol to the rat that had latched itself to me’s head and pulled the trigger. It fell away, and I ran in the opposite direction of the rats; toward the exit of the scrapyard. I fired back once. Twice. Three times at the charging horde when the first pained sound from them came out, one of the rats fell back and died.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

The path through the Scrapyard zigged and zagged. I hadn't run this fast, nor this far in years. My lungs burned, and my heart pounded in my chest painfully. I wanted to stop, but if I did that I would be mauled to death. The PID dinged, informing me that I had gained experience in both Agility and Endurance, as I made the last turn through the narrowest section of the path that would lead toward the more open space near the front of the Scrapyard.

I stumbled forward, as one of the rats leaped through the air and latched onto my back. I reached back and shot it in the side of the head, and tossed its body into one of the scrap piles. The scrap pile lurched as a shelf of iron slid from the pile and fell onto the path behind me; crushing one of the closer rats, and blocking the path as I nearly stumbled forward before breaking into a mad sprint toward the exit. As I left behind the spires of rust, I fell to the ground. Panting as hard as I could.

You almost died to rats. Pathetic.

“Did you see the size of those things? They were more like small dogs.”

Make excuses all you want. This is the state of you. You were almost killed by rats.

“Shut the fuck up.”

Make me.

I slammed my fist on the ground and dug my fingers into the rusty gravel.

An infant having a temper tantrum.

“I am not pathetic.” I seethed.

Prove it.

“I will.”

Good. Kill all the rats left, and I’ll grant you a gift. How about it? If not, run with your tail between your legs, coward.

My grip on the gravel loosened up, and the low stinging in my leg began to overwhelm my adrenaline. If I just rushed in I would die, and if I tried to run back to New Eden I don't think I'd be able to look at myself in the mirror...what could I do? What could I do...what did I have available with me? Crowbar...hacksaw, socket wrench. A gun. A sword...some feathers, a couple of stakes...copper wire...wait…

A plan formulated in my mind. It would be risky, but if it worked, then I’d be able to take them all out in a single move. I dug through my bag, and began to work.

[GRAY RAT]

Theorized to have arrived with the first humans who set foot into the Realms Beyond, these mutated rats can be found just about anywhere there’s shelter. Aside from being slightly larger, these rats are anatomically similar to rats back on Midgard. Alpha Gray Rats are a special breed; about the size of a medium sized dog, when attacked they’re known to summon any nearby. Once you’re out of the Gray Rat’s territory, they tend to leave you alone. (common, mutated)