Slicing Black Wall

I ran, sprinting for what felt like miles through rough and winding tunnels, dodging around monsters that had the same idea and many more that just sat in crumbling tunnels wondering what an "idea" tasted like. My small size and dark coloration made slipping by easier than most, even in those areas where flames pierced the supernatural darkness; the fact that I could drag the shadows with me for some distance made slipping from shadow to shadow that much easier.

Although, in hindsight, a dark coloured rat slipping from shadow to shadow may have been less noticeable than the shadows stretching briefly; I'm not quite sure what my bending of shadows around myself actually looks like… it may visibly stretch the shadows or it may just cloak me in darkness and make me even harder to see. I'll have to add finding a mirror to my long list of goals.

Much, much higher on my list was getting out of these fucking tunnels before the entire place collapses on my head, as the echoing boom of burning debris falling behind me so eloquently (if unnecessarily) reminded me. Finding the surface would also be a nice little boon too, even if the place is an irradiated shithole I'd still want to know at least; but for now, I'd settle with just not being here.

I don't know how long I ran, dodging debris, fires, and the numerous monstrosities the good doctor dumped down here (many of which were also burning and scattered across the halls) before I came across something that stopped me in my tracks.

It wasn't shock or horror or anything like that that brought me to a halt, but the sheer fact that I could no longer progress; the tunnel I had ran down ended in a black and shimmering wall of what I recognized as the razor webs from before. I might almost have thought that the threads wouldn't be able to cut with how thickly layered and entwined they were if not for the twisted and deformed legs sitting in a pool of blood sticking out from the black wall. From the looks of it and the traces of blood my nose and Paranoia picked up on the webbing, it looked as if whatever this creature was had fallen over onto the wall and had every part that fell in simply liquified from the thousands of razor edges.

I frowned as much as my muzzle allowed. The tunnel crumbling behind me told me I couldn't go back and there were no openings in that slicing black wall to slip through; the increasingly thin air told me staying still wasn't an option either, fire and enclosed spaces do not mix well. I glanced around, taking in the burning rubble around me and looking for a way forward quicker than outright gnawing through the however thick walls.

Burning rubble… Burning...

I took a closer look at the legs sticking out of the wall, noting the burlap pants doing their best to barely cover the twisted green skin. Observe told me little, but it was enough to get the mind flowing

Observed: Warped Gaunt Legs: The legs of a Warped Gaunt.

Observed: Bloodstained Burlap Pants: Pants made of burlap and stained with blood.

Observe +1

I wasted no time in Observing the legs and pants again.

Observed: Warped Gaunt Legs: The legs of a Gaunt warped by magically induced mutations.

Observed: Crude Bloodstained Burlap Pants: Roughly made burlap pants soaked with the highly flammable blood of a Gaunt.

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Well, that was a major jump in detail; decidedly more useful as well. Highly flammable gives me a way out of this, potentially at least. I know these webs are flammable, I just have to hope they burn quicker than this place crumbles or runs out of air.

With a grimace I raced forward to do something potentially very stupid, biting deep into creatures leg and rapidly gnawing through cloth, flesh, and bone. Green blood and viscera soaked into my fur and had me desperately trying to keep from freaking out as I steadfastly ignored the foul taste of burlap and monster; hoping against hope that the magic that mutated this monstrosity wasn't contagious as I pointedly avoided swallowing any of it. I always hated getting dirty, always loathed the feeling of grime on my body; a hatred of literally getting my hands dirty wasn't going to get me far though, so I soldiered on and consoled myself with a promise of scrubbing myself down when I'm done.

Skill Gained: Gnaw

I activated the skill as soon as I got it, immediately feeling my jaw move faster and the flesh give away even faster than that; tough flesh and bone giving out easily before teeth that could chew through steel if given enough time. Each bite cut through twice as much material as before, combined with the quicker rate my jaw moved it easily cut down the time from possibly half an hour to less than ten minutes. Rats can chew quickly, but this thing was tough; I'm glad it was dead before I got here.

Eventually the last scrap of flesh and cloth gave way, fully severing the leg at the mid calf. And of course, I immediately broke down and began rapidly scrubbing the unusually viscous blood from myself so hard I'm almost certain I ripped some of my fur out. I could say I did it to avoid catching fire from the flammable blood, and that wouldn't be a total lie; but the real reason was that I just couldn't stand the thought, let alone the feeling, of sticky shit all over me.

After I had scrubbed myself far beyond the point of reason, I managed to settle what I resolutely denied was a compulsive need and collect myself. A few deep breaths to confirm my scent was gone and a once over to check for any more blood in my fur and I was good to go.

Will +1

I ignored the judgmental notification and wrapped my paws around the disgustingly sticky remains of the severed leg, dragging it across the rough ground as quickly as I could without slipping and shattering my bones. Luckily, finding a source of fire in a burning tunnel system wasn't particularly difficult.

I whipped around as quickly as I could manage, slashing the leg through a raging fire like a massively oversized club before hurling it at the wall of webs. Luckily for me, its brief contact with the flames was enough to ignite the appendage and keep it lit as it flew through the air. Hell, the damn thing was nearly entirely gone before it even hit the webs; apparently, when Observe says something is "highly flammable" it means "will reduce itself to ash in seconds upon ignition".

I held back a grimace as I scrubbed my hands, watching as the mostly ashen leg barely managed to more sprinkle onto than slam into the wall of webs. Thankfully, those bare embers were enough to get the fire going.

The black threads quickly began to fray and snap beneath the flames, falling away from each other and slowly opening up the blocked off passage.

It was only my Paranoia that gave me just barely enough advanced warning to survive, more throwing myself bodily than anything so elegant as leaping out of the way as the ground where I stood was seemingly split open by thin air. My eyes and Paranoia are not so easily fooled however; I could see the superfine thread of black silk that lashed out of the smoke.

I didn't relax for a moment, barely touching the ground before throwing myself towards the wall; a horizontally swiping thread passing millimeters from my toes. I had to contort my body in mid air to avoid being sliced to pieces; I can't say feeling my bones grinding against each other in ways they never should was a pleasant experience, but it's better than losing limbs. Perhaps aerial evasion wasn't the best idea…

I slammed into the wall, wrapping myself in bent shadows in some attempt to better hold myself to the rough stone than what my claws alone could do; though, whether it had any effect at all, I couldn't tell. A glance at the burning tunnel had my withheld grimace tearing its way across my face; the wall of webs was visibly restoring itself. In fact, looking closer I could easily see the lashing threads I thought were attacks were seemingly a mere byproduct of this reconstruction process.

At a rough estimate I had two minutes before the "door" resealed, each passing moment filling the air around the frame with ever more threads capable of slicing stone by accident. Were I physically capable of frowning deeper than I currently was, I would be.

My eyes and Paranoia tracked the whirling threads for a moment; searching for a pattern, a way through. My observation showed me little beyond the obvious, a glance was enough to tell me I didn't have long to make a move; the opening was already half sealed, and just to make it worse, the lashing threads had reduced the Gaunt legs to so much minced sludge.

Well, my options are pretty simple: leap into danger and be either sliced to ribbons or land in what is almost certainly further danger, or stay here and die of suffocation or falling rubble crushing me.

With a deep sigh, I took one further moment to try and estimate a clear path and threw myself into darkness and danger…

...again.