It has been a few days since the attack, and I can barely manage to walk to the door for the morning news. I am living in an old, forgotten horror that I can barely remember happening. I was a child when the monsters disappeared and the world grew in peace. I did not know my mother, for she apparently died protecting me. My dad and stepdad raised me. They had lofty ideas for me, yet the world of writing is really what captured my eyes. Copywriting: the art of using words to turn heads in a multitude of different ways. Indeed, after working for a few years that is not exactly wrong, however, there is much more to it. The main thing is, one has to really sell their soul for Dreg if they want to make it. Cruel deadlines and customers who want the most work for the least pay creates stressed and terrible bosses that are just trying their best. My boss is… was a good person. They were the fall person; no matter how bad life and work got, they were always there as a punching bag for either side. Shouting at me for a rewrite might have seemed harsh, and I might have been annoyed at the time, but I know why it was done. If they didn’t do it, the client would have made a massive fuss about nothing. I read the news every day, not only to sate my curiosity, but also to see how other people are writing and to potentially learn something new.
Dreg weaponry is a must in these trying times. Guards have increased their numbers, but even so, it is important to make sure that you are keeping your Dreg weapons close, and yourself well trained.
Old and retired top monster hunters are offering self-defense and monster hunting classes at a 50% discount for the next week to prepare everyone for whatever is to come. Once you complete a course, you will be given a discount on your next Dreg weapon purchase!
Interested? Come down to the DA, or Dreg Arena and start learning from the best today!
Classes are happening…
Ah, how very like this plane – and every plane for that matter. Turning suffering into business opportunities. Such a mentality is sustainable for when we are at the top of the food chain, but I think people misunderstand. No, I know everyone is misunderstanding our position. That… that monster, that thing, that is above us. That thing is at the top of the food chain. That thing doesn’t want weaklings like myself who refuse to pick up a dreg weapon and instead grabbed a pen. No, it wants people to learn how to use dreg. It wants people to fight it. I… cannot fathom why but –
A blood-curdling scream echoes through the air, making my heart beat like the pattering of a heavy rainstorm. I want to stay inside – every fiber of my being is telling me not to open the door but before I can think, the door is already open. I squint in the overcast day, looking forward at… a short, thin figure walking – its legs move like they are pieces of wood, splitting and reattaching as it strides forward with steps many times longer than its body. A rapid cracking and crunching fills the air as it runs down a guard with a Dreg spear in their grasp. They stab at it, but the monster slides around each attempt, quickly surrounding the guard with its long limbs – SNAP. A spray of blood. SNAP. The guard falls, sliced into a fine red mist, armor and all. SNAP. The creature turns in my direction. SNAP. Its body turns in my direction. It is a rapidly growing blur – I slam the door shut and lock it, pressing my back against the door.
THUD.
Crackling fills the air as the door vibrates in horrifying unison. I want to throw up, but cannot make a sound. I want to run, but am completely frozen. My body is no longer listening to me. I want to survive, but I cannot.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The knocking is slow and rhythmic.
“Anyone home?” it whistles from the other side of the door.
Fuck.
Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“Anyone home?” it whistles again. “I can taste your indecision.”
“P… please, don’t hurt me.”
“Anyone home?” the whistling is… annoyed, no, angry. It… wants me to play along? Fine, I will.
“Yes, I am home. Just me.”
“Good.” The whistling is low and guttural.
“Please, I… I met another monster a few days ago and it let me go! Please… please… please.” Tears stream down my cheeks. I can barely hold myself together.
“You are scared. I can see that.” The sound is below me – a flat head with a long, jagged smile larger than its head twist up its mouth as steam and mist raise from its two hollow eyes. Its body is pitch black, but has the texture of wood – I leap away from the door and sprint, diving into the closest room. A guest bedroom. It has a window – FUCK! Waiting for me, the creature is already here. It walks through the glass like it wasn’t even there and quickly wraps around me. Its form is cold, yet its mouth is burning hot. Its arms… are two knives. Two ornate dreg knives slowly and dramatically raise into the sky. It is Dreg – no, I know this face – I’ve read about him!
“Etri, the mincer!”
The arms stop. The face cocks to the side. Its smile turns into… glee?
“You know of me?”
“Yes! I was fascinated by criminals and you were one of the ones I researched a bunch! My article on you and your life is what got me a job!”
“A fan?”
“No, no, I would not say fan. More of… admirer? Hmm, not the best wording as well. I… just find you fascinating. Terrible but fascinating. Your life is, if you don’t mind me saying, like one long accident. Absolutely horrifying from beginning to end but impossible to look away from.”
“Interesting.”
“It does make sense why that guard stood no chance – you were trained as a mercenary and guard against both monsters and people. You were sought after for your skill and would kill all those who would oppose you. But eventually, people stopped challenging you, and you would go out of your way to kill, right?”
“Quite knowledgeable”
“You are probably the second-best fighter ever to live!”
“Second best?” heat fills the air, almost enough to burn me alive. Fuck.
“Y… yes.”
“Who is the best then?”
“Gan’lia Galestrider or Fa Fumerunner.”
The whistling voice wheezes. Laughter? The blades drop to the creature's side. To Etri’s side. Etri was a criminal who used two knives. He was sent to deathrows march many decades ago and died there. So this is what – the air pulls with nearly enough force to tear the skin off my body.
“This smell… you haven’t fought. No Dreg on you. Sad. Pick up a Dreg weapon so I can return.”
SNAP.
It’s gone.
I collapse in a puddle of my own piss and cry. Cry and laugh and vomit and laugh again. There is no escaping whatever this judgment is. Wol’zarath help us if Fa or Gan’lia return.
Learn how to fight? Self-defense? Those people are fucking stupid. There is no doubt about it, we are not at the top of the food chain anymore. We are the prey, and humans are the hunters. The only thing humanity could never defeat is itself, and the only thing that can destroy us all is ourselves.
Another scream fills the air.
What the fuck can I do? Die with them? No, running outside will do nothing. I fight with words and the pen, not with Dreg. I need to do something, if I stay inside ill eventually run out of food. But what?
The message!
I scramble to my room and pull out a haphazardly folded and stored away page.
Humanity is at deaths deadly door,
Soon the world will torn, battered and worn,
It does not matter whether rich or poor,
You are family, no hatred when born.
Bind together, show the world you belong,
Listen to my plea and show you’re worthy,
Chosen walk the road together and strong,
Be proof that humanity is sturdy.
Three days is what you have to prove them wrong.
Three days is what you have to prove them wrong.
It has been longer than three days, but maybe this is the key to the death trap we have found ourselves in. Bind together? Walk the road? This is not hard to decipher, but impossible to execute on. Fuck, I reek. I need a shower, then I can think. No monster will kill me it seems. I have time, but does the rest of the world?