Contributing Author: Dads Bedtime Stories

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“Shit! Shit! Shit!” Trey screamed as he saw a massive man explode into a mountain of muscle, as if he injected an air compressor into his biceps, triceps, pecs, and abs and blasted everything up in size. The worst part was, it almost sounded like his muscles were roaring a battle cry as the man charged forward.

“A little help?” Trey asked as he bolted down the stairs he had just gone up and ran back into the disgusting, horrible water and the barely lit sewage tunnels.

“Nameless guy? Help! I would really like to turn back into a liquid right now!”

No reply came–but Trey could hear grunting and shouting behind him. Risking a glance, he saw three people: the massive muscle-bound beats of a man, an exotic cat person wearing a suit, and something that looked like a hog standing on two legs. Shaking his head in disbelief, he kept running, glad they were blocking each other as they tried to get through the second doorway.

I’m going to die… what is wrong with these stupid aphids? Why are they always not here when I need them?

A jolt shot through his body, and Trey’s legs began to shake.

Slow your roll, buddy, I got you.

Doug?

I guess you aren’t as stupid as I thought. Glad to see you. You’re not captured, so that’s good. It seems like Puddle Boy didn’t leave you totally high and dry. Maybe he’s got a heart after all. What the hell is going on?

There’s a tiger or a leopard, a pig, and some kind of juggernaut, Trey answered, feeling his control over his own body fading.

Ok, well, sit back, relax, and let's see what I can do to help fix this. Are we near the warehouse?

I, uh… I think so. Can’t we just go back home?

No can do. Besides, I get the sense that you don’t really want that, Trey. I have a feeling you want to see this Quest through. Hold on, this is going to get nasty.

A moment later, Doug took control of Trey’s body. Trey was left slightly disoriented as he felt himself leap into the terrible sewer water and start to swim through it. His strokes were clean, efficient, and soundless–until Doug stopped and plugged Trey’s nose.

Wait–what are you doing?

Doug plunged beneath the surface. Trey could feel the filth in the water sweeping past him, and he mentally shivered in disgust.

That was a literal pile of human poop that just washed over us, Doug.

No shit, Sherlock. But you said there’s a hog and a tiger out there. I need to mask our scent. You smelled like you’d just pissed yourself out there, and if there’s one thing predators pick up on, it’s the smell of fear.

No, I didn’t piss myself! I had just come out of this same sewer water we’re swimming in!

Doug chuckled. Trey felt the desire to vomit rising as they came up from the water.

Just messing with you, kid. Now calm down for a bit. Let me do my thing.

Trey tried to relax. It wasn’t easy–especially as another slimy something streaked past his chest–but he knew Doug was his only hope if he wanted to get back to his apartment and maybe see Jill again.

I’m not the one to help with romance, Trey. Focus up.

Even underwater, Trey could hear the thundering footsteps of his three pursuers as they approached the sewer’s waterline. They were at an intersection, and from there, they could go left or right.

“You two–see if you can pick up a scent further down the tunnel!” the large muscled man shouted, “Find him and kill him.”

“Don’t we want to save him for the Boss?” asked the pig guy.

“No. We don’t have time for that. All we can do is kill the Host and wipe our hands of this mess–Doctor Hugo Hugo will be sending a truck over soon to pick up the shipment.”

Footsteps again. Through the murk of the water’s surface, Trey watched as the cat man–who he realized now must be a cheetah, not a tiger–began to slowly follow the sewage stream southward. The hog lumbered after him, glaring at its surroundings as if they’d personally offended him.

They were close.

Trey’s heart felt like it was going to explode. He’d never been the stealthy sort, and this was too much tension. Still, he had to admit they were in a good position. The curvature of the sewage tunnel gave them a shadowy shelter to hide in, and the dark water did more than enough to hide the rest of his presence.

Relax, he can’t see or smell us. You need to stop letting your heart beat like that or you will pass out and then we both will be screwed.

I’m sorry. This is a lot. First the Frugal Five, now these chimeric creatures? I’m scared, Doug.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

Maybe fifteen feet from their position, the cheetah man came to an abrupt stop. He knelt down and sniffed–only to recoil, face scrunching up in horror at the smell around him. He gave the brown water a long, level stare before shaking his head, standing up, and making his way further down the tunnel. The hog trotted on after him.

See, we are fine, now we need to… Hold on a moment.

Trey felt himself moving slowly across the water. He saw what Doug was looking at and mentally frowned.

A Capri-Fun? You want a juice box?

Doug laughed inside his head as he reached out and snagged the shimmering pouch floating by them.

Yes! It even has a straw!

But the wrapper’s missing on part of it! Do you have any idea what kind of bacteria grows down here?

Shut it. Do you know what Aphids need?

Trey started to respond, only to realize that he didn’t. He had never been a bug person. If he was honest about his relationship to bugs and insects, he was mainly the squishing type–he’d made it a habit to kill any fly, spider, or mosquito if given the chance.

Sugar, kid! To an aphid, this thing is like a power-up. The mother must love me for such a gift!

Trey tried to take his body’s control back but couldn’t. The drive that Doug was experiencing was overpowering. As he popped off the straw that was tragically missing its plastic wrapping, Trey felt the vomit he had suppressed earlier rising. Doug poked the straw’s sharp pointed end into the little silver spot on the top of the pouch.

Doug, can we not?

Some juice escaped the pouch beside the inserted straw. Doug bent Trey’s head and licked the top and sides of the box, careful not to waste anything. Trey shuddered in horror at the taste of filth and garbage, then shuddered again–this time in ecstasy–as the tiniest bit of sugar entered his system.

Fruit Punch! Man, that thing sure gives a kick! Doug exclaimed as he put the straw to his lips and squeezed the box like he was competing in a drinking contest.

Trey’s body began to tremble.

Whoa, Trey started, legs and arms twitching in excitement. This feels like…

Power! Absolute power! We need to make sure you keep a couple of these on you for when you and I get together. Let’s move, Trey. It’s time to act.

Trey dove through the water like a Poseidon at his peak, swimming toward the muscled man who remained, watching the sewage tunnels with hard, stony eyes.

First, we take out this goon. Get ready!

What? That guy is like four times bigger than us! He looks like one of the nemeses of the Cosmic Custodians, The Bulk!

Who the hell is The Bulk?

That evil superhero? The muscle-bound one who can smash anything in a single hit? Can’t you see that in my memory?

That ain’t real. Why the heck would I worry about comic books? Man, get your head out of your ass and focus. I need you to stop letting your balls shrink each time we do this. Now, hold on, this is going to get fun.

Trey wanted to respond, but he had no comeback. That ball jab really hurt.

Still, as he quietly moved through the last few feet of water, Trey couldn’t deny feeling the power Doug was talking about. The Capri-Fun filled him with a similar strength of Ryzm’s ability, except it wasn’t just in his legs–it was his everything.

Doug drifted to the edge of the sewage canal. He stared up past the ledge, where the muscled man stood in a strong stance, legs shoulder-width apart.

The man was wearing black leather pants, and Trey felt Doug using his eyes to scan for something. He’d been grateful for the improved vision, until Doug locked onto two small bumps beneath the tight fabric.

Bingo.

Uh, Doug?

Those were almost impossible to find. I’m not sure what kind of boosters this guy is taking, but he needs to lay off them before his jewels vanish for good.

Like a shark lunging out from the deep to eat some poor creature, Doug sent his hand forward in a wicked three-finger strike. As his fingertips connected, Trey felt the man’s peas split from the force.

What the hell, Doug!?

A high-pitched squeal that sounded like a train whistle erupted from the muscled man as he reached down for his precious gems. And, as his knees went weak and his hands came low, Doug climbed out of the shallows to stand behind the bent-over man. Then, he delivered a second blow to the man’s crotch.

Trey winced internally as the big guy tumbled, face first, into the muck of the sewer canal. Doug quickly knelt down and grabbed the man by the ankle before the current could pull him away.

Is he dead?

Doug laughed in Trey’s mind so hard, in fact, it almost gave him a headache.

No, he’ll live–though right now I bet he’s wishing otherwise. Give me a moment. I need to see what he’s got on him.

After flipping the big guy over—and pointing out to Trey that he was, in fact, still breathing–Doug dug through the man’s pockets with the efficiency of an expert thief.

Look here, Doug said, holding up a remote with two buttons on it. This looks important.

The Clandestine King continued to search the man’s pockets. He paused again, this time holding up a strange looking cellphone.

Should we keep that?

No. Something about it feels wrong, Doug thought back, tossing it over his shoulder and into the water. Let’s go.

What about him?

Muscles will be fine. He’s just got a little rafting trip to worry about.

With a heave, he shoved the big man forward and into the sewer’s current. As the muscled man floated down the sewer into the darkness, Doug pulled Trey’s body back to his feet. Then he shook at a high speed, back and forth like a wet dog, sending water droplets flying through the air.

Did you just dry me off?

Can’t be stealthy if you leave a water trail wherever you walk.

Doug trotted to the stairs and back to the warehouse door. It was still ajar, so he slipped through, out of the dimly-lit sewers and into bright florescent light.

A whistle escaped his lips as he and Trey took in a massive vault surrounded by sporadic laser beams.

Is that it?

Doug murmured something as he glanced around the room.

What’s wrong?

Traps, and a lot of them at that. Those lasers are the least of our worries. We need to find a way to…

Doug! What’s wrong?

Sorry, Trey. It’s been a long time since I’ve had that amount of juice flowing through me. I… I can’t keep going.

You can’t leave me!

Trey felt the consciousness of Doug disappearing as he stood there by the warehouse’s back door. He clenched the remote they’d found in the muscled man’s pocket in one hand, terrified to move because of Doug’s warning about the traps.

“I swear if I make it out of here, I’m going to punch myself in the face the next time Doug shows up,” mumbled Trey.