The farmhouse was in poor shape, with stains on the walls and a hole in the floor while flies buzzed over what was left of a dinner. Vines crept in through the broken window while the calendar on the wall had long since faded into an unappealing gray. There was a stove in the corner by the refrigerator, while the coffeemaker had fallen over at some point, its broken shards scattered about the floor.
Cray tip-toed past the shattered glass and surveyed the place. It didn’t look as though there was going to be much salvageable, the same sort of dump as the first three houses on the block. The clatter of shutters against the wall was the only sound. Finally, he allowed himself to lower his pistol.
He held a hand up and pumped it once.
A creak and a thud behind him, followed by the crunch of glass beneath tennis shoes combined to signal Karah’s arrival. She performed the same quick scan he had and grimaced but jabbed a finger at the kitchen and the matching thumb past a rotted and broken cabinet into what must have a living room years ago, before shrugging.
He nodded to his sister’s plan and pointed to the kitchen.
Somehow, she was annoyed about that too, as the same dark eyes he shared glared at him before she stalked down the hallway, her purple shirt and jacket downright surreal amongst the dust and decay.
He shook his head. And for the kitchen, oof. No electricity, and the sun’s light lost the battle halfway to the floor, so everything was a mess of shadows, with dusty, half-open cabinets and moss coating walls whose baby blue paint had already half peeled. Still, even from what he saw… there was a stereo, a laptop on the table and even a flat screen television but all were broken or half-submerged in a pool of rainwater that had blown in over time. It’d was a pretty nice place before whatever disaster afflicted it, but only a ruin remained now.
Out of curiosity, he tapped a couple of the power buttons and shook his head when the screens remained blank. Wait, there in the corner…
It was a skeleton, wrapped up in a shirt and trousers that were ragged and patched even before their owner’s death. One tooth glinted gold. Well, mostly a skeleton, he amended. He crouched down, tapped the golden tooth and called upon his Inventory. With the softest of hums, it dissolved into motes of pale blue.
Then he surveyed the skeleton… and frowned. There was still some flesh upon the bones and teeth marks showing where the rest had gone. It might be a skeleton, but they didn’t die too long ago…
The wind shook the broken window frames and through the leaves while water from the recent storm splashed against his face before joining the puddles below. Wait, leaves? I didn’t see- He jumped to the side and raised his gun.
Too late. Green vines slammed into his chest, side and shoulders to send him crashing to the floor.
Stars filled his vision but he shook his head to clear it and did a clumsy roll. Okay, where is - there!
Crafted of moss, vines and other forms of greenery, it had the look of an eyeless, faceless dwarf, a potbellied thing with a dozen vines or more sprouting from it. A Skulkermoss. What that meant he couldn’t recall in the middle of everything, but instinct leveled his weapon against the creature and he squeezed out two shots, fwip, fwip.
Both burrowed deep into its leafy body and earned a growl like shaking branches, but its vines slammed into his stomach and drove the wind from his lungs while his weapon clattered to the floor. Before he could recover, the vines wound about his body to grab him by the throat.
Its grip was tight, so tight, and the countless green ropes squeezed the life out of him. Patches of gray formed before his eyes, but Cray rallied to punch the Skulkermoss in the stomach several times. When it staggered, he pulled the tendrils off his face and sucked in cool, life-giving air. An ambush predator, that’s what it was; if he could get some distance, it wouldn’t be much of a threat.
But the Skulkermoss leapt for him again.
He grabbed one of the dust-covered chairs and used it as a barricade but the creature squirmed up and over; its green stomach opened up to reveal multiple rows of razor-sharp teeth. He summoned one of his biggest guns, but the creature made sure to wrap around his hand this time. Desperate now, he opened his mouth -
A blur, then Karah smashed her gloved fist into the creature’s side, tore the Skulkermoss off the chair and slammed it into the floor. A burbling roar came from it, followed by a fainter one when she drove her foot into it, then silence. After a moment, it dissolved into red light before a couple of small objects toppled to the ground where it had been.
Karah placed her hand on his shoulder. ‘Are you okay?’ Her expression said.
He nodded. What else could he do? Aloud, albeit in a whisper, he said, “He was alive - the body - he was alive before the Skulkermoss got him.”
Her gaze flickered to the staircase. “Do you think…?” ‘That there might be others?’ He could almost hear her question.
He shrugged but she rushed up the staircase nonetheless. Rather than follow, he peered down at what the Skulkermoss had dropped. A decent haul: some green vines, a few shotgun shells and an earring of some sort, perhaps enchanted. Each disappeared into his inventory.
Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.
Definitely should have been more careful. A Skulkermoss at my level isn’t too bad normally, but letting it get the drop on me… Well, next time I’d best make sure that doesn’t happen. If Karah hadn’t been here, I might not have made it. His gaze turned to the staircase and he sighed.
He couldn’t blame Karah’s frantic search. Sure, there were skeletons around sometimes, but they were part of the world, not like this one. This time someone alive had spawned here, only to get found by one of the monsters and devoured. If we’d made it here quicker…
He shook his head. There would be time to think of that later, but they’d come here for a reason, regardless of what happened here. He was already in the kitchen, so he started with that first. The inside of the fridge had the stench of rotting meat mixed with mold and other substances he didn’t even want to think about, an unholy reek that made his eyes water. He closed it again, then took a deep breath and held it before peeking inside. Any hope of unspoiled foodstuffs was soon dashed, and he knew a lost cause when he saw one.
However, the pantry offered more luck. Several cans of some sort of condensed soup sat up on the shelves, so he took them into his inventory. To their fortune, although there were several different soups, they all counted as the same kind of item, so they all fit in a single slot of his inventory.
Before he could check out the rest of the house though, Karah popped her head into the kitchen again, eyes wide. He tilted his head but she grabbed his arm and yanked him toward the staircase.
With his hand caught in hers, Cray had to take the stairs up two at a time. The upstairs of the dwelling was in better shape, although it too showed the ravages of time. A pair of boots was covered in a thick layer of dust and a woolen shirt had been left flopped over the table. There was a television in what looked like a second living room, with a damp rocking chair across from it. Papers littered the floor courtesy of an old printer, which sat beside a lamp that had its shade torn off.
But Karah pulled him forward so fast he could scarcely keep up, so he broke into a sprint. The doors flickered past and the floorboards creaked around him.
Suddenly, Karah grabbed him by the scruff of his leather jacket and dragged him to a stop. 'There’, she pointed inside an open door.
Inside was a girl, no more than thirteen or fourteen years old. Dark in coloration and hair and with rounded brown eyes, she wore a ruffled maroon dress that gave her the look of a little girl’s doll. Propped up by her elbows on her bed, she read a book with great interest. No sound came from her, but her eyes roved up and down the page with absolute focus, not the slightest attention given to the two intruders.
“She’s alive…” Karah whispered. “In here, amidst all this decay, she’s alive. How does that make sense?”
Very simple, it didn’t.
Cray narrowed his eyes. The bedroom was lit by a lamp, and neither dust nor mold marred the tan bed covers, while the wallpaper hadn’t peeled at all. Untouched. “A spell-trap. Rare but… got to be… there.” He pointed at the almost-invisible shimmer in the air. “I’ll dispel it. Keep an eye out for whatever comes.”
She nodded, face drawn. They both knew no mere Skulkermoss could have done such a thing.
Cray pulled out a silver-bladed knife, flipped it once, then stabbed it deep into the wood of the floor. It gleamed red and there was a roar in response, but it was distant, muted; he had time.
He reached out into the local leylines. They were twisted and tainted, only disgorging their mana sullenly, with a taste like overcooked cabbage to boot. Now to weave it. With careful focus, he worked the small dollops of mana into a simple tapestry. He was no specialist, but he’d learned a couple of rituals before. Once finished, he commanded it to activate.
Red lines spiraled up and around the spell surrounding the girl. They swirled together before meeting, the faint shimmering growing sallow and weak, then tore open. At first the hole was tiny, but it grew swiftly and widened until it was as big around as Cray was tall.
A deep breath. Cray reached into the hole and ignored the way the spell scraped against him like sandpaper and grabbed the girl’s shoulder.
She whipped her head around, eyes wide, then screamed.
Blast. On one level, Cray couldn’t blame her. To her, it must have been like someone ripped a jagged hole in reality to grab her. He’d have liked to take the time to console her and explain what it was and what had happened, but there was already roaring in the distance. Alright, plan B. He gripped her shoulder and pulled with all his might.
She struggled, shrieked and flailed, desperate to push him away, but while he wasn't as strong as his sister, against this girl it was more than sufficient. With one final yank, he pulled her through.
Crack. The spell-trap glowed blood-red, then shattered, and the room aged a hundred years in an instant, complete with broken bed, pages of the book shriveled up and mold in every corner.
Before the girl could scream again, Karah tackled her to the ground and grabbed her by the mouth. “Listen here, you brat,” she hissed. “If you keep shouting, we’re all dead. So shut up or I’ll gut you like the catch of the day!”
The girl paled and clamped her mouth shut.
Well, that was one way to handle it. At least she’d stopped screaming. Cray took that as a good sign. Still, they had to get away from here, now.
"Now, if Karah lets go, do you promise to not scream?” She nodded rapidly. "I mean it. If you scream then you, me and my sister are all going to die. Can I count on you?”
She hesitated but nodded again.
He took his hand off and she didn't scream. That was good at least, especially after her world had turned upside down. A minute ago, she read happily in her room. Now, dust and mold coated that very same room and the scent of death filled every indrawn breath.
"Follow me and I promise we’ll explain later," he whispered and helped her to her feet, “but we have to stay quiet now.”
“Why?” she said, her voice thankfully a whisper.
Karah pointed toward the window. “Them.”
The girl’s gaze followed. Outside the window, it looked at first like a perfectly normal suburbia, save for years of overgrowth and neglect from the absence of people. But he caught the moment she spotted the subtle movements that almost but not quite blended in with the landscape. Saurian snouts poked through the grass, gray skin blended against metal and countless other symbols of malignant life. Her body shook and she clutched his sleeve.
Karah bent close and whispered, “You’ve been in an imaginary world. This is reality. There are very dangerous creatures around us. Which is why you have to be absolutely quiet. Understood?"
The girl nodded, but her grip trembled and her eyes were wide. Cray offered her a kindly smile in hopes to console. “I’m Cray, that’s my sister Karah.”
The girl looked ill at the thought but finally croaked out, "Louise…"
The wall exploded inward.