An instant nightmare. In a single bound, the Cursed Human had transversed over five feet, leaping into the air above them, carrying with it a mass of pulpy meat and hanging limbs. It was also in this moment, in which time seemed to have stopped for Lark as he watched it’s jumping motion move slower and slower until it paused mid-motion.

His heart thundered against his ribs. Looking into the pitch black holes where its eyes should have been, Lark couldn’t help but remember the Sandworm’s throat squeezing against his body. The broadsword was at his side, hanging limply, little hope that the monster would just fall through the tip and die.

Huuuuu….

Although its mouth hadn’t moved, he heard it whisper. Garbled.

He should’ve taken this chance to cut it down. Take advantage of this weird glitch in this system which froze the monster in place. However, the hoarse whispering continued, this time loud and crisp: “You can hear…me.”

It wasn’t his imagination, but suddenly Sphinx’s fake smile had replaced the monster’s mouth and the sword had plunged through several folds into its neck. His breath caught up to his actions as a mix between a yell and gasp left him. Thirty-two minutes left, with a slime, in a world almost as good as reality, and he was stabbing the shit out of someone’s face.

Only, no sign of blood had sprayed out.

And again, it spoke to him, “You…have to slash with a curved sword…more effective,” as if giving him advice.

Wide-eyed, Lark could only gape back at the monster who didn’t move an inch after being stabbed. Gushi’s body also had stayed afloat.

What it said though wasn’t unreasonable, his thrust felt awkward and clumsy. He might’ve hurt his wrist. Without moving a muscle in his arm, he asked it, “What’s going on?”

“My name is…Vick,” the voice said and then he pleaded, “Kill me.”

The blood-red particles began to drop with the slow shake of the monster’s head.

Horrified and acting on impulse, Lark pulled back the sword, slicing a thick cut into the monster’s shoulder. This time, blood did spray all over his sword arm, but the monster was nearly on top of him. Its back leg kicked out, knocking the scabbard into his abdomen.

All the muscles in his body tightened as he was drop-kicked onto the ground. Gushi barely made it in time, careening into the side of the monster’s skull as it was about to slap Lark’s head around.

The broadsword dropped somewhere, so Lark pulled out the revolver from his spatial ring, and took aim, letting one, then two shots rip. Fire burned on the leg that kicked him, but the other shot missed. With a ragged shake, the fire went out like a light, and the monster focused back on him.

Too fast—shit—one, two, three, four…five bursts of flames shot forth—the last one, barely sparked an ember against the monster’s chest. The burnt smell drew to his nostrils and Lark’s stomach recoiled. He wrapped an arm around his nose just as the Cursed Human shrieked.

Underlying the sinister-sounding scream, a solid cry resounded in Lark’s ears. “Why can’t I die?” It was the same weepy voice that had whispered to him earlier. Because of this, Lark would say later, he didn’t see the flying kick coming.

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The revolver flew in one direction, away from him, and his body flew in another, crashing through the library’s windows. Wooziness invaded his brain and glass spilled all over him as expected when a fifteen-feet-tall monster tosses a normal person into a building.

A loud boom from around the corner told him it had knocked down a row of bookshelves. Gushi was trying its best to run and hide while lobbing small-sized dictionaries at the monster’s head.

Lark opened his spatial ring once more and pulled out the roped pouch along with several apothecary bottles. So much for his plans. His gaze burned, blood seeped from his upper eyelid, as he shook one of the bottles and popped off the pressure seal on the other. A hard-smelling liquor filled the room.

“Item: Red Potion (magic)

A lesser restorative health and stamina potion.

To use: pour over the wound to recover health, or ingest to recover stamina.

Ingredients: Red vine, red snail shells, green snail shells, and tomaberry juice.

2 fl oz

Crafted by Cornelius Goodwing.”

What a mad mixologist. Lark’s shoulders tensed before raising the bottle, the size of a shot glass, over his head. Cold, red liquid splashed onto his hair and dribbled down his forehead where the cut seemed to stem from. Sweet-smelling fragrance came and evaporated as the liquid did too after completing its task; taking all the hurt, and the pain away.

“Gushi!” He yelled, pitching his arm with the half-consumed bottle. The slime came squirming down the hall and jumped into the air, receiving the leftovers. Books and tables flew right behind Gushi, as well as the giant monster who flipped over everything in sight. Gushi’s body flashed a quick green light then it disappeared into the ball of its antenna.

“Down!”

Gushi reacted to Lark’s command, curling its body into a flat disk and landed onto the floor behind some desks. Not far behind, the monster barreled its tumorous-looking arm into a pile of books, where it last saw the slime.

“Sip on this!” The unopened potion bottle spun through the air and cracked upon hitting the back of the monster’s hip. It wasn’t where he was aiming for, which made his comment a little nonsensical. Nonetheless, the reagent began to show its effects. A pool of green liquid had splattered onto the muddy-colored skin and dripped onto the floor, where it turned into several small pebbles. The ex-human snapped its neck in Lark’s direction, rather than at the thing which hit it and began to move. Once its leg extended though, the pebble sprouted into a large, twisting vine.

“Item: Slender Vines Green Potion. (magic)

Offensive binding magic. Strength of seedlings and their roots will depend on the type of plant bristle used. After locking onto the target’s scent, their roots will bind and siphon energy.

To use: Pour liquid over the target.

Ingredients: Green flower, cactus nectar, plant bristle, and vinegar

6 fl oz

Crafted by Cornelius Goodwing.”

Before it knew what had happened, the monster’s legs were wrapped tight by thorns. Half its body fell to the floor atop magazines and fallen chairs.

Lark smirked. “Gotcha.”

Gushi hopped out the woodwork, taking a split second analyzing the situation between the monster and the strangling vines, before delivering a rapid face-slap. Meanwhile, Lark picked up the revolver which had fallen outside of the library’s doorsteps. His grip changed from cold to warm in a matter of seconds. To explain the sudden feeling, he fired once at a pile of filing cabinets with papers strewn about. As a result, everything lit into a sudden bonfire. It seemed like Gushi’s present had recharged his power.

Lark tilted his head to the side. Who would’ve thought carpet flooring was extremely flammable? The flames licked through the ugly gray threads and climbed over the wooden furniture in less than five seconds. A column of smog rose to the second story ceiling, here, the fire sprinkler system activated. Out of the six nozzles dispersing gallons of water, one was right above Gushi and the Cursed Human.

“Oh, that’s not good.”

Fat raindrops splattered everywhere. Despite the heavy downpour, Lark noticed, where the thorns once were, pink buds began to bloom. Growling, the monster whipped an arm at a nearby chair, causing it to roll and fly over Gushi’s head. The vines weakened. Another arm managed to slip through, now only its legs were still stuck.

Lark pushed past the clutter, picking Gushi up under his arm and hustled a good ten feet away when a loud roar followed. Then several snaps.

It was free.