I scurried through the village at breakneck speed, swerving under, over, and dodging obstacles. Alas, there were a few times when an unfortunate soul fell victim to my sprint. When I heard someone shout expletives for the third time, I knew I’d worn out my welcome and made a sharp turn to the left, sucking in my stomach to fit against a house.
I squeezed out the other end and caught myself before I fell, scrambling to my feet, and resumed my sprint. Ducking behind the row of identical houses, I followed a well-worn path and let my muscle memory take over as I recalled the reason for my mad dash.
Amara had made it clear I was to head to our place at the break of dawn. I’d fully intended to follow through with my promise, but when I woke up, the sun was already near the apex of its arc in the sky. Hence my rush.
She’d sounded serious too. I mused.
I slowed down upon reaching the outskirts of the village, bordering the mellow fields of the untamed countryside.
Placing my hand palm up on my forehead to shield my eyes from the harsh glare of the sun, I searched for the rolling hills. It was easy to locate the trademark vibrant green, with how the sunlight glinted against the individual blades of grass, rippling and cascading in the gentle summer breeze. Stationed at the peak of the hill was a silhouette outlined by the solar beams, casting rotating shadows on the fields below.
As I began my climb up the steep incline, the shadows melted off Amara to reveal her full glory: flowing shoulder-length hair, unmarred china-white skin, and a child-like aura that was present in how she absentmindedly kicked her legs in the air.
Amara sighed, and the wind carried her petite voice downhill to my ears, prompting a guilty twitch. The noise prompted me to clamber up the rest of the slope and plant my feet against the hilltop, trying to announce my presence without being too obvious.
Amara turned around with agonizing slowness. I studiously examined her face, trying to decipher her stone-cold expression to no avail. I waited. Amara’s face softened marginally.
“Look,” she began in a tone that I’d come to term her ‘diplomatic voice.’ “Alex, I—er, how about we spend some time together?”
It was clear that she’d planned on saying something else before blurting out the invitation to hang out. Was she hiding something from me? My stomach churned rebelliously at the thought, and it felt like an elephant was sitting on my chest. I tried for a wan smile. “Sure, let’s do that. It’s been a while since we had time.”
Amara smiled, and it was like seeing the sun after a heavy deluge of rain. Despite my lingering worries regarding her quick switch-up, I let out a sigh and felt some of the weight on my chest leave. Whatever. She can tell me when she’s ready.
The time passed in a blur as we committed countless acts of flippant fun, ranging from childish games to planning out the next stage in our ever-growing empire of pranks. I was swept up in the flurry of activity and sighed contentedly. Really, there’s nothing as good as morning time with Amara. Now, if only she would stop that….
While I was in the midst of decking out a stack of cards, I felt minuscule prickles on the back of my neck like dozens of needles sliding into my skin. I held back a sigh, knowing Amara was scrutinizing me. She’d been doing that whenever she thought I was too busy.
I tried my best to feign ignorance for both our sakes, but it was harder to do so as Amara became less reserved the more I pretended not to notice.
Whenever she believed I wasn’t looking, her lips curled downward ever so slightly and the corner of her eyes crinkled. She fidgeted anxiously, twisting and turning her fingers every which way. She looked like she was in the middle of an internal discussion, so I let it be, but several minutes passed like this, and I was excruciatingly aware of our dwindling time before we were called away for our separate chores.
Finally, I’d had enough. Determined to get an answer, I turned around at the same time she flung down her hands and declared, “Alex, I l—!”
Whatever she meant to say was lost because I just so happened to stare over her shoulder and spotted a trail of smoke climbing out of the village and the line of a dozen unknown carriages parked nearby. Almost immediately after, the scent of charcoal made my nostrils flare.
“Amara?” I interrupted. She stopped mid-sentence, panic flashing across her face before I pointed at the village. She turned around and any trace of indecision left in her eyes vanished.
“Let’s go,” she ordered before leaping off the hill and sliding down the slope with an athleticism I couldn’t hope to replicate. I only hesitated a second before following suit, unwilling to leave Amara or the people in the village to face whatever threat had befallen us.
While I slid/tumbled down the hill, I kept my eyes on the carriages. They were of an unfamiliar design, and while that wasn’t suspicious in of itself, the sheer abundance of carriages was unwarranted for a village of this size.
Just seeing the carriages made my stomach turn, and unbidden, a portion of one of the annual letters my sister wrote to me rang in my head.
“I heard there’s been some increase in bandit attacks in the countryside. It’s far away from where we live, but be careful, all right?”
Amara and I hit the ground roughly, and it was like we entered an entirely different world. Although the hilltop was close to the village, its height and the winds that were native to that altitude ripped apart any sound coming from the ground before it could reach us, which was one of the many reasons we claimed the hilltop as our spot.
On the surface floor, the smell of ash made my head swim and my lungs protested. I instinctively covered my mouth as screams filled the air and the earth shook under the force of hundreds of footsteps. The source of the disturbance was easy to find: in front of us was a sea of people in a panic, sprinting in every direction, hoping to escape whatever was taking place further in the village. There was no order to this madness, no rules or plans that they were following: it was complete anarchy.
I gagged at the sight of the people I grew up with reduced to frenzied beasts, their primal survival instincts kicking over and throwing their morality to the side. I watched as a grown man kicked a small child down and didn’t bother to help him up in his rush to escape, only to get body-slammed by someone else and have both fall out of my line of sight.
I wanted to help, but wandering into this ocean of terror without a plan was suicidal. Returning to the hilltop was the best course of action. The villagers were in the throes of madness but it wouldn’t be long before they too came to the same conclusion. Before they swamped the hill, it would be best to climb up and get a better view of what was going on.
I turned to tell Amara this, but she pulled me first, yanking me forward and almost off my feet. I whipped my head up in shock just in time to see her mouth move, clearly in a declaration of sorts, with her hair frazzled and her eyes glowing with a fierce protectiveness.
Before I could stop her, she turned around and jumped into the fray. I lunged in after her, to no avail: the crowd swallowed Amara instantaneously. Continuing to struggle through the stampede all in the slim hope of reuniting with her was foolish, but the thought of abandoning Amara tore me in half.
I was frozen for just a millisecond while I tried to reconcile my thoughts and create a plan, but that was all it took for the tides to turn against me. Someone brutishly pushed me onto the ground and the air was knocked out of me. Wheezing, I cracked open my eyes just in time to discover a leather sole descending upon my face. Everything went black with a thud.
----------------------------------------
When I came to, my head was pounding, and my body screamed in protest. The overwhelming clamor was gone, which meant one way or another, the crisis was over. Something told me it wasn’t because everybody escaped.
My gut feeling proved true when I heard footsteps and subdued noises. My ears were still ringing, but I could faintly make out voices.
I turned my head, but mounds of ash obscured my vision. Even with my ears pressed to the dirt, I could hear the crackling flames and wooden frames crumbling. The sound of my home being razed to the ground.
Someone said something I missed, and I hastily turned my attention to the conversation just as a weight thumped to the ground nearby and an unfamiliar voice entered the fray. “Nah, this was a waste of time. These peons have nothing that isn’t rags or brooms.”
Someone scoffed. “Figures. Pack it up, boys, we’re moving out! But first, someone take care of the kid.”
Alarm bells blared in my head, but before I could move, a series of sharp jabs cut through my concentration and elicited several gasps from my battered chest. At first, I wasn’t what the fuck had happened but then warmth spread though upper half as rivulets, streaming down the sides of my chest. From there, it was all too easy to connect the dot and realize I’d been stabbed—multiple times.
Upon realization, the pain kicked in like a scorned ex-lover. It felt as if somebody had sliced open my skin, poured liquid lava into it, and then waited as the molten hot substance spread through my veins. A gut-wrenching scream split through the air and it took a moment to realize that it was me. I stamped down on the noise as best I could, biting my lip until I tasted iron. The sharp jolt from the puncture wound caused by my teeth was weak, but it cut through some of the fog in my mind. Enough that I sagged and tried my best to release the tension from my muscles. I needed them to believe I was dead.
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I prayed I hadn’t miscalculated as I heard several footsteps approach, but they walked right past me without stopping. I let out an indistinguishable breath and laid in wait, trying to avoid fidgeting while more footsteps became audible.
“You checked everything? Then let’s go. We need to get this package as far away from the Demon Lands as possible. Our client isn’t a patient man.” I risked cracking open my eyes and saw what looked like a purple monolith on top of a wagon. Strange runes pulsed ominously with a red glow, illuminating the wagon and the surrounding bandits in the same shade. As I stared, enraptured by its foreign nature and the possibility it could really be from the demons, the monolith’s pulse appeared to quicken and adopt a new rhythm. A familiar one. I narrowly avoided furrowing my brows, trying to pinpoint where I heard it before but then it hit me. My blood ran cold: it was the same rhythm as my heartbeat. Could it be? Was the monolith…sentient?
A rambunctious cry brought me back to reality and my current depressing situation.
“There are more towns to pillage!” The monolith was quickly forgotten as a cheer rose in conjunction with the whoosh of flames, stoking a sickening sensation in my chest.
Still, I latched onto the one positive. They’re going to leave? I’ll find Amara, Mom, Dad, and my friends. If we head northeast, we can reach the next village by dawn. They’ll definitely help us if they hear about the bandits. I can also send a letter to Sis.
By chance, I looked to the left and my blood ran cold. The fire, the guffaws of the bandits, the soot falling from the sky…all of it faded away as my world zoomed into one thing.
Amara’s face, her jaw still slack and eyes in terror.
It didn’t mesh with the image I had; I refused to accept it. I still recalled seeing Amara this morning.. She was smiling, and I still felt the warm sensation that her grin caused in me. This….this corpse couldn’t be her. It didn’t fit with my understanding of the world. Amara couldn’t die.
Any plan I had flew out of my mind and sluggishly, I scrambled towards her. The aggravated wounds screamed but they were inconsequential in face of the inner turmoil that was ravaging my insides. Grabbing her by her shirt, I heaved myself onto her body. I stared down at her face, praying to all the gods I was mistaken. That she would laugh and her eyes would sparkle, just like jewels.
Instead, a thin trail of drool ran down her bloodied chin and her eyes remained vacant, a dull sheen covering them.
I saw red. Forgoing any plans of escape, I only had one desire: to exact vengeance.
The bandits were huddled around their wagon, lifting bags of pilfered goods and food onto it. One of them was standing watch near the monolith. I zeroed in on a dagger strapped to the belt of the watcher.
Stumbling to my feet, I sprinted, uncaring of how many glass and wooden shards sliced my feet open. The stab wounds were all but forgotten, rendered meaningless in the face of the adrenaline pumping through my system. Lunging forward, I grasped the dagger.
The owner of the dagger turned, shock registering across his face. Panic fueled my movements and with a surge of newfound strength, I ripped the dagger out of the sheathe.
The blade went careening, the tip cutting into the bandit’s face. He tumbled to the ground screaming, but even as the other bandits turned, I was on them.
Stabbing the dagger into the stomach of the closest one, I pushed him back. A punch slammed into my guts, driving the air out of me but I pushed the dagger in more until he crumpled against the wagon. Pulling the dagger free from flesh, I lashed out but was met with red-hot pain.
Dimly, I glanced down and found a wooden shaft protruding from my chest. Slowly following the length of the spear up, I looked at the grim face of one bandit.
The adrenaline boost promptly vanished and my wounds screamed at me for my impudence. The dagger slipped out of my stiff fingers and I toppled to the ground, accidentally hitting the wagon on the way. Something fell with me, but I paid it no heed, instead focusing on the pulsating coldness that was rapidly spreading across my veins.
Shit. This is death?
The image of Amara’s desecrated body flashed before my eyes.
No. I can’t let these bastards get away with this.
Something within me, a pull I couldn’t hope to win against, tugged me towards the left and like I was in a hypnotic trance, my hand moved independently. As if it was following a pre-recorded path, my palm landed on something. It was smooth and even though it should have been burning with the nearby fires, it was cool to the touch. Without seeing it, I knew automatically that it was the monolith. I didn’t have a clue how, but I could feel the energy from the monolith cling to my arm, wrap around me like a possessive creature and bathe me in its glow. I relaxed, knowing instinctively the energy wouldn’t harm me.
“Hey! Get him away from that!”
The earth ripped away from underneath me and I was tumbling. Up became down, right turned left, and reality warped into multi fractured mosaics. My limbs were stretched to an infinite extent and my body constantly rearranged itself.
The trance-like high I’d been in vanished and my fear and confusion and guilt and rage swarmed back in. My stomach, or whatever was left of it, fell somewhere to my nether regions as I accelerated rapidly. An incredible pressure began squeezing around my midsection as I went faster and faster until I felt my face strip away and my body completely dissolved and oh gods, this was the end and—
Images zipped past me, almost quicker than I could see. Finally, the stream of colors slowed until it settled on one image. Marble columns towered over me, with steady streams of lava lining the walls and casting a red tint over the enormous room.
At the far end of the enormous room was an elevated platform of sorts, with a throne positioned on it and a silhouette stationed in the seat of power. They loomed over several figures cloaked in darkness. There were eight of them, spread out in diagonal arrangements, forming an arrow. All of them were bowing to the entity in the seat.
Demons.
Before the horror of what I was seeing could settle in, a chill hit me from behind and my body went stiff.
“What do we have here?” a sly voice uttered just out of my line of sight. There was no way I should have been able to tell, but right away, I knew the owner of the voice was the same as the demon who sat on the throne. It was an absolute fact, with no chance of denying it or doubt. I frantically checked the image, and confusion cleared some of the haze of panic when I noticed there was still a silhouette on the throne.
I felt more than heard the demon slink behind me. “Don’t worry about that. So the Phalanx Monolith [Giver of Second Chances] found its way to you, huh? Tricky little bastard. I don’t know what it’s insinuating by bringing you here but very well. I’ll be watching your progress with great interest, Alex. If you escape with your sanity intact—or not, it doesn’t matter to me—I’ll find you and see if you’ve become useful.”
What?
A pair of crimson-red eyes flashed before me, and everything faded to black.
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When I opened my eyes, I finally had a proper body. One that was mine and solid.
It still felt strange, but I chalked that up to dying and coming back to life. There were probably some bodily functions lost during the process. I couldn’t even begin to wrap my head around my resurrection, so I focused on what to do with this new lease on life.
Now that I had a moment to breathe, a wave of revulsion, grief, and disgust so potent it nearly knocked me off my feet rolled over me. Everyone I loved was dead.
I recalled what the demon said about me becoming useful. As long as it meant I could exact vengeance on the bandits, I will pay any price to anyone—even to a species that was unanimously viewed as ‘evil.’
If becoming evil is what it takes to avenge my loved ones, I’ll do whatever it takes and become whatever monster they need me to be.
A small part of me threw out the idea that I was being irrational, that I shouldn’t be hasty in declaring my allegiance to whatever creature was willing to help me out in my crusade. I said ‘fuck that’ to the voice. The rage coursing through me was as furious as magma, as potent as the fire that ravaged my home. I was going to find the fucking bandits, and I was going to take my time torturing them until they couldn’t be considered human anymore.
Is that what Amara would want?
The thought was accompanied by an equally powerful blast of grief that threatened to drown me. I knew if I succumbed here, allowed myself to reminisce and think about the people I lost, I wouldn't be able to carry on. If I only focused on the rage and not the deed that formed that rage, I could maintain my goal and make sure the bandits paid no matter what the cost was. I couldn’t afford to lose myself to mourning; I was already a shell of who I used to be, driven by fury and nothing else.
I vowed to isolate them. To keep my memories locked away in a tiny box and banish that box to the deepest recesses of my mind. It wasn’t a healthy way to cope in the long term, but that was fine. It was the only way I could carry on in a world that didn’t make sense, a world where the people I loved most didn’t exist anymore.
They said they’re planning on going to the next village? I probably know the route better than they do. I’ll go through the shortcut through the forest.
Having formulated a plan, I was much more content. The panic that had been bubbling in the outskirts of my consciousness was subsiding, held at bay by the confidence in knowing what to do. Even so, there was something I couldn’t put my finger on—wait. Why was it so dark?
I was certain I was opening my eyes, but—actually, that was weird as well. It was almost like instead of just two, I was opening multiple eyes.
Curiosity piqued, I attempted to get up but was instantly blocked by something. Growling, I prodded at the obstacle. It felt brittle and hard simultaneously, like I could bash through it but it could also withstand huge amounts of force. Lifting my hand, I discovered a curvature.
I moved backward, only to barely travel a couple of inches before hitting another wall. Oh, shit.
After groping around for several seconds, it dawned on me: I was trapped.
I never thought of myself as claustrophobic but that was all I could think of right now. The walls felt like they were closing in. Even though I hadn’t had a lick of issue breathing before, it was the only thing on my mind right now.
I need to get out of here! I can’t breathe! I can’t breathe! Shit, shit, shit!
I flailed my limbs, and a low crunch sounded in the cramped space. The dull pain upon hitting the walls was overshadowed by the gust of cold air that poured in through the hole.
Empowered by the burst of fresh air, I struggled through the remaining walls. These aren’t as tough as I thought they’d be. Breaking free the rest of the way, I collapsed onto the ground.
Panting heavily, I pushed myself to my feet. Except there was a problem.
I didn’t have feet. And what I was using to push myself up wasn’t hands either. Instead, the product of my efforts was a glob of green slime? Glancing backward, I saw white fragments dotted with red lying across the ground.
It’s an egg, I thought dimly.
Ding!
You have been resurrected as a Gelatinous Cube!