Chef was getting tired of this, mentally and physically. There was only so much time in a day that could be devoted to desperately struggling to survive in the face of near certain death. The furious fanatic below him completely ignored his attempted distractions, and Chef needed both his arms to hold onto the tree branch.

Poison and patience were all he needed in theory, but apparently, he’d been mumbling aloud and summoned his pursuer directly to him. Now he needed things like endurance and strength, but summoning his status reminded him that neither were his strong suit. Unsurprising for a Chef, but not ideal considering his current circumstances. He watched in horror as the green bar gradually decreased, trending to zero much faster than he’d like. He needed a plan. Or a new plan more specifically. One that didn’t involve being eaten, ideally, but he’d settle for a stay of execution at this point.

Dying in an hour instead of right now should have been a less common hope, but then again, he was a goblin. Looking over his skills he tried to think of something. Perhaps he could convince Chief to take a break and then run away?

“Chief,” he shouted as he held onto the branch with both arms, legs dangling in the breeze. “You look tired and maybe a bit, woah there!”

One arm came free and for a split-second Chef stared death in the face. Using all the strength he had, he barely managed to get back ahold of the branch in front of him.

“Ahem. Maybe you should go eat a snack and pick this back up in say a minute or two?”

The shaking continued all the while; and, despite his activation of Convincing, Chief didn’t even respond.

Huh, that usually worked. Well, what else do we have?

He looked back to his skills and used every last brain cell he had to drive to a solution, to deliver himself from his perilous plight.

Oh well, guess I’ll die.

Really it was more disappointing than anything else, but what are you going to do? There was no avoiding it. He certainly couldn’t have just left earlier. Nor could he have made his poison, laid his trap, and then left. How could he have watched it unfold if he left? Impossible. So no, he’d just have to die.

The green bar decreased again, and then with two points of Stamina left, the shaking stopped. Looking down, Chef saw that Chief had dropped his hammer, clutched his chest, and then fell to the ground gasping for air.

“Ha. Hahaha. HAHAHAHA! AH HAHAHAHA OH NO!”

Laughing fiercely, Chef’s grip slipped. Gravity seized him, bounced him off of two branches, threw him through a third, and then dropped him onto the ground. Now his red bar matched the green. Hopefully an overly ambitious insect wouldn’t assassinate him. That would be embarrassing.

Chef forced himself to a sitting position as he contented himself to watch Chief’s final breaths in order to catch his own hopefully not so final breaths. That red bar was awfully low though, so there really was no telling. At least Chief was dying for sure now, if the blood pouring out of his every orifice and his labored breathing were any indication.

“I’m dying.”

Well, that cleared that up.

“Chef. Before I die... cough cough… I need to tell you something.”

Ok, maybe he wasn’t. Those were pretty fake sounding coughs, and Chef would know. He was allergic to dying and being eaten, so he coughed and sneezed all the time. Life as a goblin was perilous enough even without such an inconvenient and clearly real allergy.

But still, he was curious.

Chef carefully stood up and made his way over. Looking down on Chief carefully due to their close proximity.

“Come closer, Chef. Too weak.”

They were a dozen goblin feet apart. Well, it didn’t hurt to be careful. He bridged half the distance before stopping again.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“I’m pretty comfortable over here actually, thanks.”

“Cough, Chef. I’m not actually from here.”

“Uh huh.”

“No Chef, I’m serious.”

“Yep, sure.”

“Chef please, I’m dying. Have so much, cough cough, to say. Please.”

Chef sighed, kicked a stick nearby, and then walked closer as he started gather up the fallen branches that Chief had so nicely prepared for him. He could courteously collect firewood for the cooking fire while listening to his boss’s last words at the same time. That’s just efficient multitasking.

“I wasn’t born as a goblin, not originally at least. I was a human once, cough cough! It feels so long ago now… Are you even listening?”

“Uh huh,” Chef called out from behind the tree before he reappeared, arms filled with sticks. He had been moving closer to Chief at first, but there were so many sticks to gather. It wasn’t his fault that they were scattered all around the big tree!

“No, you’re not. You know, it’s rude to ignore a man’s last words because you’re too busy preparing to eat him.”

“We might have a fundamental difference in philosophy then,” Chef said as he dumped his newfound fuel onto the ground, still several goblin feet from Chief. Really, you could never be too careful.

“You see, the most respect you could ever pay someone is to one way or another eat every last piece of them. And, well Chief, I just really respect you. So much so that even if it takes hours, I’ll grind up and consume every last bone you’ve got.”

He let the statement sink in. Goblins didn’t receive compliments like that every day. Why they didn’t even receive compliments like that’s once per lifetime.

“In theory I would at least. With how spooky the woods are though I’ll probably leave most of you to whatever stragglers are out there. Sorry, but you’ll probably make a family of foxes or something very happy.”

Chef was sure that hearing this would help his good friend and boss to pass this world in piece.

“I swear to God, Chef, that if the gods bring me back after I die again that I’ll hunt you down no matter the cost.”

“That’s nice, buddy.”

“I’m serious.”

“Sure you are, champ. Don’t worry, lots of people get delusional when they die from poison.”

“Damn it Chef!” He began coughing hard after that, the sound like wet snot as he struggled to breathe through the eruption of blood. This went on for some time until it was replaced by quiet sobbing, the finality of the situation sinking in.

“I give up. Chef, please I beg you. You can be Chief. You can be king if you want. I’ll leave and never—” another hacking fit came upon Chief, not leaving until Chef had finished placing his firewood and started trying to light the kindling. “I’ll never come back, Chef. Please just let me live.”

“No thanks.”

Something told Chef that the sloppy wet noise coming from his boss was originally a sigh.

“Figures.”

“Yea, no offense, Chief, but yours isn’t exactly the best position.”

He looked surprised at that, which meant that despite being pretty smart, Chief didn’t pay much attention to history. Or to his own appearance. Surprise was particularly ugly looking when your face was covered in blood and mucus.

“How many chefs have we had in either of our lives, hmm?”

The sound of coughing and spittle filled the clearing.

“That’s right, one. Me. And you’re my fourth chief. No offense, buddy, but you were doomed from the start. Sooner or later every goblin chief gets eaten by another goblin. I bet even kings get eaten just the same. If everyone wants to be on top, then being on top is the most dangerous place to be.”

The fire caught and began to spread from kindling to wood.

“Everyone needs to eat, Chief. And for some reason they hate to cook the food themselves. So that’ll just be what I do. No one wants my job, so I’m free to live all I want. I mean you’re the first strong person I’ve cooked for that tried to eat me, so it has to be a good plan. It’s just that goblins being goblins, there’s always someone trying to eat you. So, I decided to eat the goblins first. But now I can leave and break the cycle. I’ll disguise myself as a human and be their cook! If the humans don’t eat those walking talking fat disgraces to the system, then they won’t eat my skinny ass. It’s the perfect plan to live forever.”

The fire was really going now and ready to cook on, so Chef began to make his way over.

“Delusional,” was all Chief could squeeze through his rapidly closing throat. It was sad, really.

“I know you are, buddy. Let your pal Chef free you from your pain and dismember you, ok?”

Chef danced around the puddles of blood on and around Chief as the soon to be deceased spoke up again.

“Name’s. James.”

“Oh buddy, no my name is Chef.”

Chef sat on Chief’s chest, moving to place his hands around his boss’s throat. Goblin Choking was a skill he had mastered at a young age, and it would serve him well here in Chief’s final moments.

Chief burst into action as both their hands found the other’s throat at the same time. Chef knew he was acting before, but who would have guessed he was so good at it?! Chief was strong and fast, normally at least, but his poison wracked body was weak and frail, his grip slipping on his own blood. But Chef’s found purchase and didn’t let go.

“No…idiot. My name… James… House… from… Detroit… remember… meeeee.”

The last gasp excited the blood-stained goblin as Chef stood up.

*Ping*

Congratulations! You have killed someone!

Chef chose to ignore the rest of his notifications as he fondly looked down on his dead brother.

“Don’t worry. I will remember you, Chief. You were a great goblin. One of the best.”

He grabbed his knife, licking his lips.

“But you will be the best meal.”