Trapped in a well with five other goblins, the newly resurrected Viktor dazedly stared at the walls of the cavern, occasionally glancing nervously at the other goblins who mulled about in the cave. None of them seemed to care about anything, merely existing as they sought critters to feed upon or just lazing on the ground.

All the while, Viktor’s entire existence was crumbling down. He was now a goblin, a heretic and corrupted by foul magic, destined to never see the promised paradise beyond that brief glimpse.

To make matters worse, he was trapped here and getting hungry. Viktor shuddered at the thought of the potential meals crawling around the desolate well.

(What am I going to do?)

Viktor saw no way out or around this pressing issue. Perhaps as a bug he could… No, no, no. His sense of self feverously rejecting the mere thought of falling even further from his origins. He looked at his clawed green hands that gave him no familiarity. His palish hued skin even further alienating him from his current form.

Gods, it was even different from the other goblins who were much darker green in comparison.

“Daww, Admiring yowur little hawnds, how cute!” Percy the evil spirit in Viktor’s head claiming to be an ancient necromancer cooed before switching tones “Quit yer moping you pale green lout. And while you are at it, get your bald goblin arse off the unholy book of necromancy!”

“What Percy is trying to say is it could be worse.” Higgins the other evil spirit but in a nicer sense, quickly rushed to arbitrate before the newly christened goblin would blow his lid.

While fuming Viktor still relented and stood up from the devil's book while furiously drawing breath.

(What is with my emotions, I feel so angry…)

“To put it in words your little common brain would understand.” Percy said and cleared his throat. “That be the bad goblin juju unbalancing your humours. YOUR DIVINE VESSEL IS IN PERIL! LET THE YELLOW OUT! CLEANSE YOUR BODY OF THE PUTRID YELLOW!”

“My, Percy! Don’t make fun of other people’s beliefs.”

Viktor was aghast, shaking in shock as the realisation dawned upon him. How could he have missed it? Oh gods, anything but his humours. This body was a curse.

“He was joking! Percy, tell the boy you were joking! It is just the goblin instincts acting out!” Higgins begged Percy as the goblin in front of them grew more and more unsettled.

“I was joking. Humours do not exist. They can’t hurt you.”

(You do not! Joke about humours!)

“It’s quite quaint to see some things like peasant superstition hasn’t gone out of style over these centuries.” Percy wistfully lamented “Now back on track, I assume you plan on dying here in this well.”

(No?)

“Oh, thank heavens we were a little worried as it looked like it was the case.” Higgins said with a relived sight.

“Quite so, yes. Moping around and not showing initiative right after achieving lichdom is actually quite common ailment among our peers.” Percy added. “There was this guy who just sat on his throne for literally forever… Probably still is. But alas, we are drifting here, so let us on with it. Do you have a plan?”

(No…)

“Quaint. So, let us assist with that. We are quite weary of being in a well as well. How about a little magic? Just a simple draining of your new racial comrades of their souls to make you more powerful.”

(No, that is heresy! And how does that help me getting out of here?)

“Bah, you goody-good shoes. How else can you get out other than draining their souls and making a ladder out of their remains?” Percy exasperatedly asked, causing Viktor to wince at the mere idea that was suggested to him. What kind of life must have a person lived to do such a thing? The desperation or malice within such a person is unsettling.

(By the gods as my witness, I’d prefer any other option than that. Please tell me you have anything else, oh evil spirits in my head…)

“I’ll ignore the evil spirit part, as it is kind of true. Hm, beyond magical assistance we cannot really assist you know. Well, lets get the contract completed at least. Call the book to you.” Percy advised.

Warning bells echoed in Viktor’s mind as he grew suspicious of the spirits, tempting him to seal a deal with them. His body language shifted to a wary stance as he took a step away from the accursed book.

“No, no! Towards you! Why are you stepping away you imbecile of a midget!”

“Percy, they consider it insulting to call them that! Little people is the politically correct word nowadays!”

“Well, that wouldn’t be an insult now would it Higgins?! Why are you so protective of this lilliputian green ass?”

“He is so innocent Percy like a pure cherub!”

“Has the guts as one of them as well! He basically faints every time someone suggests something! I say we starve him out and wait till he kicks the bucket and let him mope a few centuries as a soul in here! That’d teach him some frumping trust and motivation. I am done good sirs!” Percy seethed as he was about to blow his cap.

Sure, he can admit to himself that his idea for a newcomer might’ve been excessive… But he couldn’t stand it. They had a… master? A pupil? Nevertheless, there was a way out. So close after so long. Yet his new ‘burden’ if you will, was but a runt who feared them due to clerical superstitious nonsense that merely suggesting to do something with the book completely shattered the boy's resolve to move forward and make progress. And deep down percy knew that was just the surface of his dilemma. It would most likely repeat.

They would be abandoned again after a brief glimpse of hope.

A silent whisper left the book. “Why bother with all this… The boy here can’t do nothing and even if he could? To him we’re a heretical book to be left here again. Even with his soul bound, what difference does it make? He gets out and leaves us here in this well till the day his luck runs out and we’re back to square one… We’d probably try it again and bring him back as some critter and watch as he scurries as far away from us as possible.”

After his quiet monologue, Percy drew a frustrated breath and went silent. Higgins said nothing, leaving Viktor’s mind in relative silence as goblins chittered and sputtered in the cave.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Time passed in a crawl with only the light coming from above told Viktor that that light and dark had switched places twice. For the most part Viktor just sat in silence away from the book in a dark corner of the well’s cavern. After the first night he succumbed to his base desires, scrounging for critters with remarkable dexterity, surprising Viktor of his skill.

He had quickly gathered a handful of insects and worms from loose soil and rocky sediment. He stuffed his face with them as he voraciously chewed upon his prize. Their juicy gel like meat and crunchy chitin tasting divine to him after surrendering to his baser instincts. Unsatiated, he kept crawling around the rocky floor with a ravenous glint in his eyes, seeking any nutrition he could find to reinvigorate his body.

With another handful quickly gathered, with a little more, and he would engorge himself once more with them. Only it was not to be.

Moments later Viktor’s vision swam as pain coursed through his body. His back screaming in pain as something landed upon him with a thud, causing him to go prone with his gathering arm below his body and the hand with his food outstretched that had gone numb from the impact, as he hit his elbow upon going down suddenly.

Trying to shift his outstretched hand instinctively to protect his forage while letting out a snarl. A leg stretched from atop of his torso and moved down with force onto his left arm holding the critters, stopping his attempt to protect his grub.

A menacing snarl echoed in the cavern as its origin moved closer to Viktor’s head. A goblin, the biggest of the others, stood upon Viktor holding him in place as he snarled next to his ear.

Threat evident in his guttural tone, causing Viktor to freeze in fear. Showing submission to the larger one.

“This kin, not be retarted… Perhaps” It snarled as two clawed fingers grabbed Viktors elongated earlobe in a vice grip from opposite sides of the ear.

“Wise and knows to share and not about to join the mother’s great circle?” The goblin slowly applied pressure on the ear, slowly puncturing Viktor’s earlobe.

Small drops of murky blood trickled down the ear, continuing on his head as Viktor whimpered and nodded despite it stretching his earlobe and making the wound worse.

Viktor opened his fist, and the goblin used his other free hand and grabbed the grubs lazily, causing some of the forage to drop on the ground. Crunches followed next to his ear as the goblin devoured his hard-earned prize. Yet this was not the end.

“Weak kin wise. Useful for me, yes? Bring me food…”

Viktor just kept nodding. The pain on his back not easing. His dignity in shambles.

“Good, good. Valued friend you are, weak kin. Worthy of a mark of REGOGNITION!” The last words echoing like a howl as four sharp needles descended upon the upper right cheek of Viktors face and piercing skin before they switched direction as the goblin rended Viktor’s face with a wide motion as it pulled his claw back up towards itself, causing blood to splatter while a second howl echoed in solitude.

Viktor’s head followed the direction of the tearing, perhaps hoping to ease the pain and damage instinctively.

“Now you marked as my gatherer, weak kin.” It whispered before drawing away, leaving Viktor laying there holding his right side of the face. His goblin nature and feeble human rationality switching constantly, making him feel either rage or fear.

He looked at the goblin big muscular goblin go back to the others who showed reverence to the goblin brave while occasionally casting mocking glances at Viktor.

It dawned on Viktor at that moment that these foul creatures would never relent, never letting him succeed. He was an outcast at the whims of the stronger. He cast back his human nature to let instinct to take over.

He feebly stood, still using his right arm to cover the wound on his face. His eye on the wounded side of the face blind, hopefully temporarily. Yet his beastial side unleashed, his pain lessened as numbness took over.

His mind sharp and calculating, his intellect from his human origin merged with predatory efficiency. A snicker escaped Viktor’s chaffed lips as he grinned towards the others.

His right hand fell slightly down his, revealing his face. He caressed his face with his fingertip, gently. First the right side of his smirking lips and then moving upwards, feeling the teared wounds on his face before letting the hand fall to his side.

The one-eyed goblin with bleeding claw marks running up from his cheek tilted his head in amusement.

He allowed himself a moment of distraction, wondering if what he was about to do would fail.

The others except for the biggest now directing their attention towards him in full. Quite surprised at the sudden change of the bottom feeder.

Noticing the others' attention drawn behind him, the big one glanced back at Viktor. The strong goblin stopped in his tracks and turned around. While there was surprise on his face, his next course of action swift and unhesitant as he picked up a rock and without pause hurled it towards Viktor.

Viktor who had not a moment to react blinked as the rock hit him in the torso with a crack.

He collapsed backwards on to his back with a soft thud. Yet his smile never leaved him.

Weakly drawing shallow wheezing breaths, he called for it. The book. Only to sense resistance from it, refusing to comply.

Slow thuds echoed in the cavern as the large one drew closer towards Viktor, slowly. Drawing out the end of what was to come.

Viktor laughed at all of this. He had been prepared for this. Alas, he would not relent.

He tried once more to call the book. Yet the response was the same.

The goblin reached the downed Viktor with a stone in his hand, looking coldly at the laughing fool. If he would not comply he had no use for him or need of Viktor to question his authority. Even now the runt ignored his presence looming over him as he laughed.

Swiftly and mercilessly the goblin descended upon Viktor. It struck the face with his rock, caving in the left cheek. Then a blow to the centre, shattering the nose and causing blood to fly up. The goblin's other hand strangling Viktor, turning his laughter in to a wet rhythmic gurgle.

A blow to the mouth broke many of the front teeth, shards flying out.

With a shove, the goblin's hand upon Viktor’s throat pushed him downwards as it stood up and applied every ounce of his strength it had into his hand holding the rock and threw the rock point blank into Viktor’s face that bloomed once more with splatters of blood as it hit him straight on to his forehead.

The large goblin once more crouched down on top of Viktor and screeched point blank upon his face, spittle flying onto the shattered face before leaving the runt to slowly die.

In a haze of pain and dizziness, Viktor called the book. Yet it still resisted, albeit with less vigour.

His breath stilled as he stared at the cavern’s ceiling, a smile still on his face for some reason. The ringing in his ears stopped.

“You seek communion with the dead.” Unison of three voices called to Victor.

Victor called the book.

“To forge a pact.” The voices continued

Victor called the book once more. His body slowly growing cold as life slowly left him. Yet his consciousness remained, still staring unblinkingly at the ceiling.

“A pact of power over life and death? To reap the living and to rise the dead from their slumber? Or to gift life to the living and leave the dead to rest? The power of choice?”

Viktor called the book. It appeared hovering over Victor, hiding the ceiling.

“Do you desire a mockery of life, unholy power and twisted freedom?”

Viktor’s right hand, dirty and deprived of life, rose and reached for the grimoire.

The book dropped yet impact did not arrive; the book melted into Viktor.

“Then may you find salvation in unlife.”

Viktor stood up, head slumped down on to his chest. His mind drawing knowledge offered by the grimoire. He staggered forward. Heavy dragging steps, stumbling forward with uneven steps.

The big goblin watched with uncertainty as that weird kin shuffled towards it awkwardly. The brave snorted while tensing his body and confidently walked towards the runt.

An almost dead weakling is of no challenge even if his bravery, or rather his insanity is commendable.

As the large goblin neared Viktor, his head jerked up, causing the goblin to halt.

Spectral green eye upon a ruined face stared at the goblin brave coldly with unquenchable emninity radiating below the frosty coldness.

The abomination raised his right hand towards the brave.

A howl of agony far more hair-raising than the ones heard before echoed in the cave.

The brave had fallen to his knees clawing at his face as something began leaving its body. Motes of glowing particles similar in colour as the abomination eye drained from the goblin and travelled to the abomination where they entered its open palm.

The abomination’s face healed at a visible rate as its steps towards the brave grew steady, the sound of crackling and shifting of bones sounded from the abomination that was barely discernible from the screaming.

The abomination, the runt, Victor reached the goblin brave and pushed its hands away calmly from its face. He placed his own palms upon both of its cheeks of the goblin, holding his face towards him as he stared into the eyes of the slowly withering goblin with his singular eye. While one withered the other healed and his body grew larger and more toned.

The brute froze, and the screaming lowered to a desperate whimpering as the two stared into each other eyes, one eye filled with cold malice while two others were filled with dread.

Moments later a dried husk fell to the floor when Viktor let go.

The husk slightly shattered from the impact while Viktor turned his attention to the remaining goblins.

A crescendo of screams graced the well once more.