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Blake Pudding [Final Draft]
B01C15 - Undead Chimera

B01C15 - Undead Chimera

image [https://i.imgur.com/xcQhW8Y.jpg]

Grumbling about my system mana issues, which turned out to be as long and hard as a man’s dick in ice water once I really put them to the test, I still managed a smirk as the skeletons charged.

The coliseum was my playground, and each clash sent a pulse of excitement surging through me. When a skeleton dared to charge at me, I twirled, my hips swinging with succubus grace, and I flashed a devilish grin. My arm whipped out, morphing into a tentacle, and smack—its skull exploded, teeth spraying like confetti from a bone piñata. The skeleton’s remains clattered to the dirt, abandoned like yesterday’s toys. Oh, the sheer ecstasy of destruction!

Victory was sweet but fleeting. Three more boneheads staggered into the arena, hungry for a piece of the action. With a flourish, I spun around, my tentacle sweeping through them like a deadly ribbon dancer, knocking two to the ground. The third, foolishly ambitious, grabbed onto my back, seeking my jugular. Little did it know, beneath my alluring exterior was nothing but Corrosive goo.

As the skeleton’s claws and teeth sank into me, it quickly began to dissolve, succumbing to the acidic burn of my Corrosive passive. A flicker of concern washed over me as I pondered my pH levels, reminding myself to tread carefully around Aurelia—assuming, of course, she’s even into tentacle play.

“I really want me some of that action,” I mused aloud, nonchalantly batting away bones with a flippant flick of my tentacle.

No time for daydreams about a dark enchantress vampire—unexpectedly, my mind flickered back to a recent dream and a name that teased the edge of my memory. Why couldn’t I remember it? My thoughts were abruptly cut short as skeletons swarmed me like cheap perfume at a dance hall. I sidestepped a clumsy swipe, my irritation spiking not just from the attack but from spotting Redtail in the distance, looking utterly bored. I shot a sharp glare his way. There he was, casually manicuring his claws, safely out of harm’s way behind the metal gate.

Typical.

Oh yeah, he’s definitely on my snack list after this.

That irritation cost me—a spear thrust through me, sliding in as if I were butter or fucking gelatin. I snapped my head toward the spear-wielding skeleton with a disgusted tsk, only to get an intimate view of a metal shield. The impact knocked me off the spear with a loud dung—was that the shield, or just my head ringing? Stumbling back, I felt an adrenaline rush pump through my gooey form.

I inspected the wound, amused as the silly putty-like substance that was me knitted itself back together seamlessly.

I burst out laughing. “No guts, no glory, right?”

Yet, my voodoo-infused, slime resilience brought little solace as skeletons encircled me, their bone-rattling advance sounding like a creepy xylophone. The ground beneath me roiled as new, fresh zombies clawed their way out, drooling for a bite out of my gooey ass.

I let out a laugh that teetered more towards a panicked chuckle. With a nervous gulp, I summoned Necrotic Flame—nothing. “Blight, dammit!” Still nothing. My magic was a no-show, as effective as a limp dick, which only reconfirmed my suspicions: I definitely had a mana pool.

“Son of a bitch,” I spat, squaring up as the undead mob closed in.

Time to show these boneheads how a real monster bitch fights.

One by one, the undead hurled themselves onto me, creating a suffocating, morbid mound. Their skeletal hands clawed relentlessly at my form, teeth gnashing in a macabre symphony as they tore pieces of me away. It was an onslaught that would have crushed any normal being. But I was far from normal.

My Corrosive passive was still active—a saving grace that didn’t rely on the system’s mana allocation. Don’t ask me why; I’m just as clueless. We’ll just call it magic, shall we? I mean, that’s the go-to for lazy storytellers, right? When in doubt, just chalk it up to—magic!

Although my passive didn’t dissolve them as rapidly as I would have liked, its effect was unmistakable. As the weight of the undead bore down on me, their mass slowly succumbed to my acidic essence. There was a perverse delight in feeling their bones and flesh disintegrating into me, a sensation oddly akin to absorbing strawberry-flavored Jell-O.

In this battle of consumption, my victory was assured as the horde of mindless undead gradually dissolved into me. However, the thrill of such an easy triumph left me yearning for more. I craved excitement and challenge, yearning for something beyond the mundane act of passively absorbing my foes. It was time to shed my human guise and embrace my true nature. With a touch of insanity, I let go of all reservations and embraced going fully passive… Yeah, that sounded better in my head.

Instinctively, I unleashed Polymorph, allowing my imagination to run wild as I transformed.

Tentacles erupted from my body, sprouting in every direction like a wild dance of chaotic appendages. My back transformed into a writhing mass, while my legs and arms morphed into multiple, unruly tentacles. There was no rhyme or reason to their arrangement; my focus was purely on the frenetic lashing. With my acidic limbs, I unleashed a frenzy of attacks, striking wildly at the horde that dared to pile upon me, feeling slightly drunk on the euphoria that accompanied it—was it the Life Drain kicking in?

Wait, do the undead even have life to drain?

With my writhing tentacles, I grabbed skeletons and zombies by their necks, their spleens—heck, anywhere I could latch on. I reveled in the sensation of my acidic corrosion doing its grim work, dissolving their bones and flesh as I repeatedly smashed them into the ground. Their forms crumbled and disintegrated under my grasp, their remains flung about like morbid confetti. A skull here, a limb there, all tossed aside with effortless flair as I moved swiftly onto the next unfortunate undead.

Time seemed to warp around me as I tore through the undead with a frenzy—snatching, smashing, and corroding—all underscored by my wicked laughter. What felt like an eternity in battle was, in reality, maybe three minutes. Or was it ten? Twenty! What can I say? I warned you—I’m a pretty shitty timekeeper. Just don’t ask me how long this whole reincarnated mess has been going on—two days or three weeks, I honestly couldn’t tell you. That’s LSD for you, or maybe it’s from chowing down on those damn mushroom men?

I wonder if this is what Alice felt like in Wonderland?

As the dust settled, I surveyed the skeletal remains scattered around me. The air was thick with the sickly-sweet scent of decay, oddly reminiscent of freshly baked bread. I paused to assess my surroundings, my gaze landing on three statues at the arena’s center. They stood tall, their eerie gazes fixed on me as if waiting for something. With no immediate threats and hunger gnawing at me, I was drawn to the few remaining rotting zombie piles among the bone piles that I hadn’t yet burnt to ash before my mana went as limp as—

Ugh, not another dick joke!

—Ignoring that thought, I found myself really craving a quick snack.

But just as I was about to indulge, a slow, mocking applause froze me. Redtail’s exaggerated clapping was downright annoying.

Seriously, what’s gotten into him?

It’s like he’s been switched out for a different character altogether.

Well, that’s not entirely fair—he’s never seen my other fights. So maybe this is just how he is, a total dick!

Is he really that unimpressed with my prowess?

Screw him!

Annoyed, I cut short the overly long internal discussion I was having with myself. I folded my tentacle arms across my chest and shot him a defiant glare.

“I didn’t think I was that bad,” I muttered.

I’m so going to eat him while he screams.

Yet, amid the debris, a surreal sight caught my eye—several skeletal hands and lone skulls were futilely attacking my severed tentacles.

“When did I lose those?” I blinked in surprise.

All at once, the arena erupted into a sandstorm, engulfing everything in chaos as a shape leapt into the center of the coliseum. As the dust settled, it revealed a monstrous chimera with the head of a lion and a snake for a tail, notably missing the typical goat head—utter bullshit if you ask me! Its body was riddled with decay and rot, bones visibly protruding—it was undoubtedly undead.

Its presence loomed larger than a monster truck, with the lion’s maw dripping putrid drool and the snake’s mouth oozing a sickly green venom. Yet, the sight thrilled rather than terrified me—likely a perk of my new body. Yeah, I know—I keep saying it, but fuck me, I’ve really turned into a little psychopath. But what can I say? It smelled delicious!

“Oh, this is going to be fun,” I growled, relishing the upcoming challenge.

The lion’s head roared so violently that the arena seemed to tremble. Simultaneously, its snake-tail coiled around a massive chunk of broken pillar, aiming it directly at me. Time stretched thin as I gauged the incoming threat. Instinct kicked in—I aimed for a graceful somersault, but shit, my limbs were still in their freaky tentacle form. My attempt to dodge became a ridiculous tangle of squirming appendages, leaving me wide open for the smash.

With a grotesque splat, the pillar crashed into me, obliterating everything above my waist. There I was, a literal half-slime in the dirt, yet as a Black Pudding, I started knitting myself back together almost immediately. My gelatinous ass separated from my head, and for two seconds, I reconsidered the fight. Was I outclassed? Probably, if its opening move was any indication. But the beast smelled oh-so-good; I just had to eat him, or at least take a nibble.

As I frantically tried to scoop up my scattered pieces, Redtail’s amusement from behind the safety of the barred entrance seemed deeply mocking.

No, seriously, what’s gotten into him?

I bet it’s all those lizard-chicken-dinner comments.

The sight of my lower half scampering to reunite with my upper bits was probably a riot for him. Disembodied legs running around like headless chickens? Comedy gold—but fuck me, I wasn’t laughing. Ugh, it was so strange trying to guide my ass with two eyes lying a few meters apart in the sand.

Maybe I should reform those?

Wait—why didn’t my eyes melt into goo when everything else that separates from me does?

Everything else does, right? Yes—oh! Could it be that mana I jammed into them from Mana Focus?

Hmm… Did I figure that out myself, or was that a flash of... what’s it called... insight?

After I literally pulled myself together, I dodged two more slabs. Sadly, I hadn’t managed to scoop up all my dark gooeyness—I was a short, skinny toothpick once again! In a burst of unexpected agility, I cartwheeled over a pile of bones. My next move was supposed to be a sleek backflip, but alas, I botched it and belly-flopped right onto the sand. Luckily for me, this epic fail dodged another slab that whizzed overhead, crashing into the arena with a deafening boom. Talk about dodging a bullet—well, a slab, in my case.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Glancing up, I locked eyes with the undead chimera. Forty meters away and closing fast, every footfall resonated like a miniature earthquake, sending ripples through the sand. Someone might mistake it for an Arrakis sandworm approaching. The hiss of its drool sizzling on the sand sent shivers down my slimy spine. Even the marble statues seemed to lean in, their stone gazes unnervingly fixated on me with intense curiosity.

“Shit,” I muttered, my hands shaking with a mix of fear and, well, let’s just say excitement? I wasn’t really scared, right? This was just the thrill of the fight…

As the chimera charged, a wild rage boiled inside me, hotter than any damn flame I could’ve conjured—mostly because my mana decided to take a freaking vacation. What started as a thrilling ride had spiraled into a total shitshow—I fucking hate losing. I mourned the sweet, short-lived high, now brutally cut short by this monstrous face-off, all thanks to my absent mana for the system skills.

I’ve always been a bit of a twisted bitch, taking things to the extreme just to make a stupid point. Like when my ex, Ethan, cheated on me with my supposed best friend, Mia, right as I was coming out as bi—not that it was any big secret. I mean, I’ve pretty much always been this way. But still—boy, was I pissed! I would’ve been open to trying poly with both of them, but they sneaked around like little lying bitches!

So, in retaliation, I did something seriously messed up—I slept with his mom! Yeah, it’s not my proudest moment, but damn, she was good. Like, a serious freak! And it hit him pretty hard—though not as hard as she went down on me.

Who would’ve thought he’d be more ashamed of his mom banging his ex-girlfriend than I was? But hey, she was a total MILF. Maybe not the best mother figure, though, given her reputation at the local bars. And let me tell you, the antibiotics I needed afterward confirmed those rumors. But hey, at least I picked up a few tricks from her, if you know what I mean.

Now, here’s the real kicker—Ethan’s last name was Stifler! Yeah, you heard right—I was the chick who banged Stifler’s mom! The jokes and teasing he endured during college were endless, while I only had to deal with two weeks of burning every time I went pee. Worth it!

As for Mia, let’s just say Ethan unknowingly gave her a special parting gift from his mother: chlamydia. Yep! I went back for one last goodbye fuck after I noticed a slight burn. Of course, this was all before he discovered the truth about his mom, and before he realized that I knew about him and Mia. Ah, revenge is a sweet, twisted pleasure. See! Twisted bitch, am I right?

So yeah, I may be vindictive, but damn, did I revel in my victory, celebrating my triumph with a warm slice of apple pie—and maybe a few extra visits to Stifler’s mom once those antibiotics kicked in. Seriously, she’s a horrible mother but an amazing lay! Anyway, there was a point I was trying to make… Umm, what was it again? Shit, I completely forgot. Ah, who the fuck cares!

Oh—right! I hate losing.

As the chimera bore down on me, rage ignited within me, hotter than any flame I’d ever conjured—mostly because I had no flames nor any other casting spells. What had been an exhilarating ride had turned into a fucking nightmare—I’ll say it again, I hate losing. I mourned the fleeting joy that had been so cruelly replaced by this monstrous showdown.

Raising my hand in a desperate attempt to defend myself, I summoned the power of Blight—but to my frustration, nothing happened. Anger surged through me as the chimera’s shadow engulfed me, its massive jaws descending with a thunderous roar. In a frantic maneuver, I leapt to the right, narrowly escaping being devoured, but I couldn’t evade the crushing impact of the creature’s oversized paw.

Like a little car at a monster truck rally, I was trampled—or more accurately, swatted by the big kitty. My body tumbled across the sandy arena as the beast barreled straight past me, unable to halt its tremendous momentum. The pain wasn’t as excruciating as I had braced for, not that my scale of pain is particularly reliable. The only truly painful thing I’ve ever endured was catching on fire; everything else, including being torn in half, just registers as a mild annoyance, like accidentally biting your tongue.

Though, that fight with the toad was painful enough to knock me out… Yes, I do contradict myself, a lot—so fuck you, too! Nevertheless, each blow served as a grim reminder of my mortality. Miraculously, the chimera’s momentum carried it past me, its struggle to stop in the sandy terrain working to my advantage.

I quickly regained my footing as the chimera slid to a stop, its lion head tilting back to fix its gaze upon me, a predator eyeing its prey. Determined to fight back, I lifted my arm once more, invoking spells—Blight, Necrotic Flame—but to my dismay, once again, nothing happened. Frustration clouded my thoughts, plunging me into a state of confusion and anger. Overwhelmed by a sense of helplessness, I couldn’t think clearly.

Seriously, how long does it take for the system to replenish my mana?

The chimera’s change in tactics sent shivers down my sloppy body as it started circling me, its movements predatory. The hissing of its snake tail only heightened the sense of impending doom. It was toying with me, savoring my helplessness. At that moment, all hopes of returning to that sexy vampire were dashed, and a wave of desolation washed over me.

“Perhaps this was for the best,” I breathed out bitterly.

I was no champion, not destined to ascend to anything magnificent, but a twisted monster bitch with a taste for murder and an insatiable appetite for rotting flesh—particularly intestines. Seriously, what’s wrong with me? Maybe this new world, with all its magic and delectable corpses, was better off without the likes of me.

I let out a resigned sigh as the chimera abruptly stopped its circling and crouched low, raising its snake tail high in the air, wiggling its butt with an uncanny resemblance to a playful feline. The absurdity of the situation struck me; I had never owned a cat. I was always more of a dog person, particularly fond of Great Danes. Those big, lazy, snuggly giants had been a constant presence in my life since childhood. Yet, as I watched the chimera shake its booty in a bizarre display, a sinking feeling settled in my stomach. I knew exactly what was about to happen.

There was no escape, no place to hide from the impending doom that awaited me. No matter how fast I ran, I couldn’t outrun the inevitable. I was completely and utterly screwed, on the verge of being turned into nothing more than black gooey cat shit. My only glimmer of hope resided in my Corrosive and Venomous passives. When the chimera devoured me, I planned to give it a taste of its own medicine. However, as I watched the yellow drool dripping from the lion’s head and the green drool from the snake, a sinking feeling washed over me. It seemed likely that the undead beast possessed some form of resistance to acid and poison. It was a losing battle, and I was resigned to my fate.

In the blink of an eye, the dreaded moment I had feared unleashed itself. The chimera, an overgrown mutant lion, launched into the air, creating a burst of sand that obscured my vision. As it soared above, only to hurtle back down with terrifying force, my survival instincts kicked into overdrive. In a blind frenzy, I screamed spell commands, a wild mix of known and unknown incantations, refusing to succumb to what seemed like my inevitable end.

Desperation fueled me, and I found myself shouting out skills, clinging to a sliver of hope that they might miraculously manifest. Panic gripped me, knowing the system’s mana was exhausted, and this frenzy impaired my ability to connect with the ambient mana around me. It was a battle waged more with raw emotion than magical prowess, a torrent of curses spilled from my lips in my defiant frustration.

“BLIGHT! Necrotic Flame, damn you to hell! YOU FUCKING DICK! Life Drain, no, that’s a passive—damn it! Terror’s Infusion! No, that’s another passive. Fuck! Venomous! Ugh, same. What’s with all these passives? Astral Insight! You asshole skill, where’s some of that insight now? Corrosive! You piece of shit passive! Silk Webbing? Come on, you motherfucking Astral Insight? Stellar Void! Oracle, I could use some oracling! FUCKING ANYTHING!” I cried out.

V:\Ascension>SAFE_MODE

AdminSystemOverride

Admin:\Magic>Login_

System Access Granted [SAG]

USER_Skills_Override.

Reconfiguring...

1 Skill Point Unlocked.

10 out of 11 Skills Activated.

Data Accepted.

Selecting Skill...

[Burst] has been selected as an active skill.

11 out of 11 Skills Activated.

V:\>

“Burst!” I screamed.

My world screeched to a halt as time seemed to slam on the brakes. The undead lion’s gaping maw loomed ominously close, poised to snap shut on me. Would it have been curtains for me? Can’t say for sure—I’m tough as diarrhea, but testing that theory wasn’t high on my to-do list.

Before its rotting teeth could take a chunk out of me, something bonkers happened. Another system prompt from the admin popped up. Without pausing to second-guess, or even launching into my usual rant, I blasted out the skill, Burst. Propelled at a speed that practically turned my body into a liquid streak, I zipped under the beast’s sprawling paws and its stinking underbelly, only to be greeted on the other side by two massive orbs that smashed into my face like a pair of steel wrecking balls.

The hit sent me spinning into a daze, knocking me off my feet and sending me rolling across the coliseum like a discarded ragdoll. I left little chunks of pudding in my wake, marking a trail of gooey defiance across the sand. The sensation was akin to a giant, flat-handed slap on bare skin. As I skidded to a stop, skipping like a stone across water, a numb fuzziness washed over me.

“Ouchie,” I groaned.

Trying to pull myself together, I frantically scanned the area, but a thick haze of sand stirred up by my dramatic tumble cut my visibility down to a measly ten meters. Amidst the chaos, a piercing, high-pitched screech sliced through the air, sending an involuntary shiver down my spine. It was the sort of noise you’d expect from a cat in its final, gruesome throes. For the first time, I genuinely grasped what they meant by ‘sounding like a dying cat.’

“Holy shit, you fucking bitch,” I gasped.

Shock and disbelief surged through my veins as my mind raced back to the system prompt, trying to piece together what had just happened. I was supposed to be tapped out of mana, yet here I was, thrust back into the game, thanks to the admin bitch meddling with my system—again. While I grudgingly acknowledged that this interference had just saved my ass—or skull, gooey as they may be—I was utterly sick of being at the mercy of her whims. Not only had I just gained a new active skill from my list of selectable options, but I also received enough mana to use it. She’d already nixed one of my skills. What the hell was she planning next?

“Hey, cunt!” I yelled up at the stone ceiling while still lying on my back. “I could really use a mana bar or something to show how much I fucking have to work with!”

Nothing. No response. No new system prompt. Nothing at all! I was apparently being ignored.

“It’s probably because it’s in safe mode,” I muttered bitterly.

Great, out of all the reincarnation stories, I’m the one stuck with a broken-ass system.

A feeling of unease mixed with annoyance washed over me, and a vague memory of my dream—a girl running through a forest—flickered briefly before fading. I turned my gaze back to the center of the stadium, where the sand in the air was gradually settling. As the dust cleared, my attention was immediately captured by the three marble statues. They remained motionless, their cold stone eyes eerily fixed upon me.

Fucking creepy.

As I turned my gaze toward the colossal decaying cat with its snakehead tail curled underneath, I couldn’t help but notice its pathetic state. It staggered around, its hind legs seemingly paralyzed. The undead beast was also emitting a dreadful screeching noise that pierced through the air like a high-pitched tornado siren. A sickening realization washed over me, and my hand instinctively moved to touch the side of my face, where I found a portion of my Silk Webbing had been torn off.

“He. He. Tea-bagged me?”

The undead beast, despite my nut shot, wouldn’t remain incapacitated for long. It was just a matter of time before it regained its strength and resumed its attack. I needed a plan, and I needed it fast.

With no strategy forming in my mind, I spotted a few corpses strewn along the outer edges of the arena, remnants of the earlier battle. One of them was within reach. Seizing the opportunity, I sprinted towards it, my focus fixed on the motionless figure.

I wished I had some impressive acrobatic skills to navigate the arena with the grace and finesse of, say, a certain web-slinging superhero. Sure, I could manage a somersault or even a flip—nothing spectacular, mind you, but decent enough. Instead, my attempt to come to a smooth halt by the corpse ended in a comical disaster. I tripped, faceplanting directly into the groin of a headless zombie.

Worst. Day. Ever!

As I lay there with my face buried in the foul stench of a putrid decaying corpse’s crotch, a disturbing thought crossed my mind—I was salivating. I couldn’t deny the strange allure of the taste of dead things. It was a guilty pleasure that I couldn’t fully explain. Why did I find them delicious? Was it simply a matter of evolving taste buds? After all, many people appreciated the unique flavor of aged meat… right?

With a muffled voice, I managed to utter the command “Absorb” as I continued to indulge in my rather grotesque meal. The Corrosive skill of my acidic touch had already eaten away at the dead zombie’s pelvis bone, revealing the grisly scene.

Oh shit! What does my face look like right now?

Like someone who just ate a nasty ass!

In any case, my skill quickly devoured the few nearby dead zombies, tentacles lashing out on their own accord, pulling them into me for a much-needed meal mid-fight.

Sadly, no system prompts or skills came; apparently, they didn’t count as boss monsters, and so, with the dungeon core gone, I got nothing from them but some much-needed mass. I don’t know how much I’ve lost since this whole fight started, but I was looking rather thin once again; those oh-so-sweet succubus curves were but a bitter dream. However, after my little snack, I was rocking them once again.

Casting a fleeting glance at the chimera, I let out a breath of relief as I witnessed the foul creature engrossed in its delicate self-grooming ritual. I needed a game-changer, a lifeline to shift the odds in my favor. Face-diving into its testicles wasn’t exactly a sustainable combat strategy for me, after all.

As I pondered how best to fight this bastard now that the admin had replenished my mana—or at least, I think it was now full—seriously, that bitch needs to give me a mana bar—I heard a low, guttural growl, and I quickly turned my attention to the chimera, which had recovered from my little nutty headbutt. And wouldn’t you know it, the bastard was charging straight at me like a bull on steroids, hell-bent on turning me into its next chew toy. That lion head of his was spewing out a thick, putrid yellow cloud, while that snake tail of his decided to join in on the fun by spitting green globs of phlegm my way.

Talk about a tag team from hell.

But let me tell you, I wasn’t about to piss my gooey dress in fear. Nope! I squared my slimy shoulders, raised my gloop-covered arms, and gave that undead monstrosity a defiant look that said, ‘Bring it on, you undead fucker!’

I had a plan, and it certainly didn’t involve running away like a scared little chicken. Nah, I was ready to give this rotten chimera a taste of my own special brand of ass-kicking. That little feast had replenished my mass and curves, which was great, but it was the admin’s tampering that actually put a smile on my face—as long as that vile bitch had replenished all of my mana.

The most annoying part about having no mana was seeing it all floating around me, like little strands of gasses, just begging to be manipulated.

As the chimera charged at me, I mustered all the strength I could. Did I have a plan? Nope! So, I did the only thing I knew worked—I dove in face-first and let out a war cry that would make a banshee proud: “Burst!”