It was sometime later that Miz-Mag finally reappeared, glancing about sheepishly before looking to Mickie.
‘You found the mine then.’
‘Yeah.’
Mickie had been sitting and stewing on his plan for what felt like hours, watching the movements of the miners and beetles as they dug and shipped the metallic human remains.
‘Did you know about it? The metal?’
Miz-Mag gave him a funny look.
‘What? The ore? What about it?’
‘That it was people, humans.’
Disgust and anger churned within him at the recollection. Mickie had taken some time in his long wait for his companion to assess why the human made metal made him so angry. After all, its not like they were really people anymore. Disgust would be expected at the terrible mass of bodies that made up the metal pile. The anger however, that ran deeper.
‘Look at the state of them.’
Mickie ground out bitterly and waved to the large divot in which the robot miners worked. Miz-Mag threw him a confused glance before making its way over to the dig site. That’s what it was. The indignity of it all. These were people, and they were cast into the ice to become something for the demons to use. It was just like how they were all trying to treat him; eat him for food, swat him as a nuisance, dissect him as a curiosity. Mickie can’t have been in Hell for more than a few days and yet it felt like an age. Miz-Mag returned looking slightly disturbed.
‘Nasty stuff for sure kid. Rough way to go.’
Mickie simply nodded; it was clear the small demon knew nothing of what the mines had been digging up. Pushing aside the disturbing topic of the metal people, he instead pushed for some answers.
‘What happens if I break our deal.’
‘No! You can’t! We must climb!’
The squeaked response came immediately from Miz-Mag. It appeared that Mickie’s crumbling psyche had not gone unnoticed by the little imp. The creature seemed to have realised he had been contemplating throwing in the towel.
‘Yeah. Okay. And if don’t? Then what?’
Miz-Mag began to look seriously panicked.
‘Then that’s it. This was an all-in deal kid, if one of us reneges then we are both done.’
‘So, we both die?’
‘Basically, souls get ripped straight from our bodies.’
That made his eyebrows rise. He had thought about questioning what it would take to break the deal but somehow Mickie knew. It would take more than just sitting around for a few days for the deal to break. He had to give up. Entirely and without reservation. Only then, when all drive to climb on was gone would the deal break and both he and Miz-Mag would apparently die. Strange that the little demon would write its own death into the bargain.
‘Alright. So, its climb or die.’
Miz-Mag nodded vigorously. The situation was insane. Mickie was likely to be torn up by some super demon if he climbed, yet he would be dead anyway if he didn’t. Fine then. If he was likely to die either way then Mickie would run the razors edge. See how far he could take it. How much damage he could do.
Standing abruptly Mickie moved to the dented container holding all the explosives. In the distance the mining robots were working away at their giant pile of human remains, out of sight in their dig spot. Mickie hefted a cylindrical bomb, paused, then grabbed another. He made his way over to the hole in the ground.
‘Hey, uh, kid. Are those what I think they are?’
The little demon scampered along behind him but was ignored. Pressing the bottom on one of the cylinders Mickie counted out the seconds. Three. Four. Five. He lobbed both the active and inactive explosives into the nearby pit before turning and diving onto the ice. The slick surface took him away from the dig site while keeping him low to the ground. Nine seconds. There was a flash and a thunderous boom from the nearby dig site, shunting the breath from Mickie’s lungs and sending him spinning towards a wall. Managing to orient himself feet first Mickie took some of the impact on bending legs before allowing the sharp curve to kill his momentum. Once the ringing in his ears quietened Mickie heard a distant cracking alongside the frantic shrieks of a small demon.
‘Insane, kid, totally nuts. What were you thinking?’
Miz-Mag was ranting ferociously from where it clung with a death grip to his pants leg. Paying the creature no mind, Mickie turned back to watch the ice wall above the pit crack and crumble. That had been a much larger blast than the others. So the explosives would detonate one another. Good. It was time to put his plan into motion. Mickie waited for his companion’s tirade to stop before turning to the demon.
‘You want me to climb. Fine I’ll climb.’
Miz-Mag seemed taken aback.
‘Well, I mean, that’s great and all kid, but the uh, display you just put on seems a bit contradictory. Demonstrates a bit of a death wish if you catch my drift.’
Mickie grinned.
‘I’ll climb. But I’m going to do things my way. I have a plan.’
----------------------------------------
Miz-Mag initially seemed reluctant when Mickie spilt the details of his plan. However, the red demon’s sadistic side eventual came to appreciate the intended mayhem and after some clarifications the pair got to work. The mining robots were little more than buried scrap within their pit, blown apart and buried by collapsing ice. That was good. Mickie started by dragging the container of explosives to the edge of the dig site. Something he had noticed during his wait was that the beetle constructs appeared to operate on a schedule more than any kind of initiative. They would stop before a dig site and take on whatever ore had been dug, before moving on after a set interval. Another thing he had noticed was the large robots seemed to know when they were full on cargo. They would leave the mine immediately after getting a full tray.
It tool some time for a beetle he judged as nearing capacity to make a stop by their dig site. During the wait Mickie had been worried that some of the other miner bots would check on the large hole. Apparently big blasts were considered the norm however, and even with Mickie’s double bomb explosion he saw no three-legged workers coming to investigate.
Their ride came to a stop near relocated container of explosives and crouched low to allow for loading. Mickie immediately set to work carefully packing the bombs into the tray, careful to keep the buttoned ends away from any pointy pieces of ore. He was forced to make a couple of stops while packing to shift some chucks of dark metal that looked suspiciously like splayed hands. It would be a disaster if any metal fingers were jostled into a button.
Eventually the beetle began to shift, preparing to straighten and move away. Mickie judged that the usual time for a stop had not passed, so it was likely the construct was considering itself full-up. Time to go. With a grunt of effort Mickie hefted himself and Miz-Mag onto the rising beetle. There was a section free of packed explosives upon which he could sit, near to the front of the transport atop a pile of dark metal. It made for an uncomfortable seat and Mickie shifted about to find a spot that did not have lumpy pieces of metal digging into his rear. The robot beetle stood and set-off, climbing up the icy slop of the pit mine with an ease that put Mickie’s bumbling decent to shame. He was nervous as they approached the first few cave entrances, uncertain if the transport was truly full. After they passed the first few without pause however, the tension drained from him and Mickie let out a breath. It would not have been good if one of the miners wandered over and noticed the packed explosives.
The end of the spiralling ramp approached, towering mountains coming into sight once more. A sudden idea struck Mickie as they approached the final few mining caves. Not pausing more than a moment to consider he swiftly scooped up four of the couple dozen packed explosives and pressed one of the buttons. Then after a brief moment, he pressed a the remaining three to be sure. Just in case they rolled too far apart to detonate one another. Sitting on the head of the beetle Miz-Mag was staring wide eyed at his actions, glancing between the bombs and Mickie. With no time to explain he lobbed all the explosives off the back of the beetle. They bounced and rolled away down the slope, just as he had planned. Oddly enough the beetle they were riding on did not slow and brace for the coming blast, plodding on without a care. It must have been the mining bots themselves that signalled an impending detonation. They reached the end of the path out when the first blast came, followed almost immediately by a second, larger explosion. The ground bucked beneath their beetle and the robot staggered drunkenly before dropping hard onto its metal underbelly. Mickie thought it might have tripped until he saw the pointed legs spaced equally and dug into the frozen ground. Looks like the critter could at least handle sudden shakes.
Their ride rose up on all six legs when the earth settled and set off towards the valley path with its load. Only the shaking had not quite stopped yet. Behind them the duo watched a jagged crack slice its way up the side of the pit and the ice groaned under the shifting weight. A large portion of the mine wall suddenly gave. Almost in slow motion, Mickie watched a frozen edge slide away and into the depths of the pit. The booming crash as it hit the bottom was followed by a blast of icy air that whipped at Mickie’s hair and caused his wide eyes to water. He had hoped to make the path into the pit unusable. This was a bit more damage than expected, but it served his purpose all the same. Miz-Mag let out a wheezing chuckle at the destruction in their wake.
‘By the blood kid, I think we need to get you away from those death cylinders.’
Mickie grinned at the tiny demon.
‘We’re just getting started.’
The ride back through the wastes felt uncharacteristically tranquil after the destruction the duo had just caused. There was nothing to see other than icy peaks and frozen plains. The rhythmic cracking taps from the beetles’ legs as it walked was the only sounds to break the blanket of silence. It was not long after exiting the valley that he felt a weariness take hold. Lulled into existence by the steady rocking of their transport, and the strange serenity off their quiet surrounds. Soon Mickie felt his eyes beginning to grow heavy. Sleep called, and it was a losing battle.
----------------------------------------
Mickie awoke to insistent tugging on his ear.
‘Hey kid, its show time. Get ready to make a mess.’
Turning his head slowly, Mickie met a set of golden eyes and impish grin full of sharp teeth. His back crapped from the uncomfortable sleeping position on the lumpy ore. Stretching out the ache in his spine, Mickie took in their surrounds. Dead ahead the imposing black castle grew ever larger, reaching upwards to punch through the ceiling. The frosty cave entrance into the structure sat like an open maw into darkness, ready to welcome them back into the beast’s belly. The sight of it was like cold water trickling onto the back of his neck. Mickie thought of the cold and cruel Mechanist, of the grotesque bodies piled and transformed into a resource for collection. It was time to go hard or die trying. He cracked the tension from his neck.
‘Let’s rock and roll.’
Soon the castle had swallowed them, the pair blind in the darkness of the Mechanist’s tunnels. Mickie attempted to recall just how far it was to their goal, but measuring their time spent in the dark was difficult. Instead, he closed his eyes and attempted to calm his breathing. The plan was straightforward, simple really, he was confident in its success. Yet waiting in the tunnel for it all to kick-off was torturous. That’s why Mickie almost sighed in relief when Miz-Mag piped up with a whisper.
‘Hey kid. Something’s up. Dead ahead.’
His eyes snapped open, and Mickie peered into the distant tunnel. There was a light growing brighter as they approached. They couldn’t have already reached the central hub for the beetles. Mickie’s sense of time in the tunnels was poor, however he was certain it was far too early. As the light source came into view, he felt his stomach drop. Glinting metal forms filled the tunnel ahead, a cordon of robotic bodies ready to inspect any passing machine. Had the Mechanist known they would be coming this way? Or maybe it had put checks in all the passages back into the castle. It was earlier than he might have liked but looking at the approaching wall of steel Mickie made the decision to expedite the plan. He leant in close to Miz-Mag and whispered low.
‘I’m going to cause a distraction. They’ll be looking for signs of my passage, and if I make a racket, they should hopefully be too busy chasing me through the halls to check the beetle.’
Miz-Mag looked at him. Instead of fear or hesitation Mickie only saw anticipation in the sadistic devil’s eyes.
‘That’ll work. You’ll have to lose the horde though; they’ll be gunning for you.’
With a grim nod Mickie reach down to scoop up three of the cylindrical explosives. He tucked them under an arm and dropped silently off the side of the moving beetle. The flooring of the tunnel was rigged metal, and Mickie’s feet slapped against it with barely a sound. He did not have much time to act and needed to play this distraction just right. If Mickie was too quick, the robots might associate him with their beetle by proximity. To slow and they might take the time to pause and check to crawler. As far as the machines knew, there was only one intruder, and if he was already located then they shouldn’t take the time to check passing beetles. He glanced back to find Miz-Mag getting close to the distant robots. The machines had not yet reacted to their brethren, but it would not be long. He pressed a button on one of the bombs and hurled it down the tunnel.
‘COME AND TRY IT!’
The battle cry echoed in the steely confines, travelling the length of the tunnel to reach the cordon of robots. Mickie could see them all suddenly shift, even from this distance, heads quirking and posture stiffening. Instead of running away Mickie set off up the passage towards them, running hard to put some distance between himself and the impending explosion. The blast went off with the fury of an angry god when it came. The sound tore at his ears and Mickie felt something rupture, noise cutting off entirely on his right. A hammer of hot air landed on his back and launched him up the tunnel, sending him rolling with the breath gone from his lungs.
Mickie gasped through the ringing in his head. He had lost the other two bombs in the blast and now reached about for them, desperate. Blurry eyes came into focus as he grasped a cylindrical shape in one hand, pulling it to his chest like a child with a plushie. Up ahead a storm of steel was approaching, flowing down the tunnel with lights held high. Machines of endless variety, the familiar centipedes wove between the four legs of stomping monstrous constructions. Long necks held spotlights that scanned the tunnel, looking for some sign of their quarry. Sleek mantis’ darted ahead of the pack, claws ready to catch upon hidden flesh. Mickie noticed smaller machines resembling dogs keeping pace alongside them. Groggy, but desperate to get ahead of this monstrous tide, Mickie stumbled to his feet and set off down the tunnel. Hopefully his demonic recovery would fix him up enough to fight when the horde inevitably arrived.
His stumbling steps took him onward, until suddenly Mickie lost his foot in the poor light. Stomach in his throat he tripped over a jagged chunk of metal, slicing his shin, and sprawling into a small crater. It appeared his bomb had damaged the floor of the passage, blasting chunks away and leaving a warped crater. Mickie hardly registered the pain of the tumble over the feeling of a loose object digging into his side. In the improving light, he confirmed it to be the second bomb. Who knew how it had rolled all the way down here so quickly, but he was not going to complain. With a flash of dizzy inspiration Mickie used some of his dwindling time to pull off his ragged shirt. He wrapped the newly recovered bomb in it and stumbled out of the small crater. Gauging the proximity of the machines, he guessed they were close enough for his plan to work. Clutching the remaining explosive close, Mickie pressed the button of on his newly wrapped present and dropped the package back into the crater.
Not hanging around to see how his plan played out, he stumbled down the path and away from the ticking bomb. Behind him there was a chorus of clattering limbs signifying the approaching metal horde. Unable to resist glancing back, Mickie found the machines swarming into the crater, investigating his discarded shirt. Some of the mantises and hounds disregarded the present however, taking interest in something else. The moved past the crater and Mickie wanted to scream. Instead, his mental count hit seven and Mickie dropped to the floor, curling about the remaining bomb and covering his ears.
The blast came soon after, handled better than the first from his huddled position but still slamming him like a stomp from a mammoth. Something heavy crashed nearby, shaking the metal floor before continuing down the tunnel. A sensation of heat came from Mickies leg and he cracked open his eyes to find a sharp piece of shrapnel lodged in his thigh. He felt oddly calm, reaching up to pull the metal free and toss it aside. When he noticed the blood beginning to pulse from the wound an idle thought tumbled into his head, that maybe it would have been wiser to leave it in. Setting down his bomb Mickie pressed a tattered pants leg against the wound and sat upright.
He summoned his gun and scanned the surroundings. Robotic debris stretched up the tunnel, metal chunks in a variety of sizes and states. The spotlight of the massive machine had gone out in the blast, replaced by the flickering light of flames dancing along some of the larger metal chunks. Mickie let out a dry cough of a laugh. His previously non-functioning ear was droning insistently, and he gave a shake of his head to try and clear it.
‘Stupid bots.’
Apparently taking offence to that comment, the sound of whirring servos came from nearby, accompanied by an unsteady tapping. One of the hound robots staggered about a hunk of metal and stumbled towards him. It was missing a leg, and another had been rendered inoperable, forcing the robot to limp unsteadily. Yet the machine came right his way, homing in on Mickie like a real dog with a scent. He wanted to scream in frustration, these damn machines were relentless. When the hound was less than a foot away Mickie raised his gun to it and fired. Plating warped, machinery splintered, and the robots was launched back and away from him. It crashed into another chunk of metal and came to a stop. Mickie sighed at the rising clamour of shifting metal that filled the tunnel following his actions, it appeared he had woken the remaining bolt bags.
The gun thunked over to the dark eyed puma head as the scent of sulphur faded. From his right a mantis dragged its upper half along the ground towards him, clicking razor claws against the floor. Ahead a more intact mantis crested larger piece of debris, alert and scanning for him. If Mickie shot the crippled one, the other would be on him in moments. Instead, he stood quietly, dismissing his gun to free up both hands. Once upright, he snuck towards the scouting mantis, thankful for the racket the remaining machines made as they shuffled about. A functional hound rounded the flames to his left and Mickie froze. He eyed the sleek robot as it wound toward his previous position. Once it had past, he continued towards the mantis, stepping over the twitching remnants of a spider bot. The air was beginning to thicken with acrid smoke and his throat began to itch with the need to cough. Tamping down the desire, Mickie reach the base of the metal chunk upon which the mantis stood. It appeared to be the broken head of the massive long necked machine, lying inert with the spotlight shattered and warped.
The shot was simple to make, the mantis was stationary apart from a head that scanned the surrounding warzone. Mickie pulled the trigger and with a puff of black smoke took the top of the robot off. Instantly he darted away from the scene of the crime, distancing himself from the telltale blast. It was not a moment too soon, as a dog tore into the space he had just occupied, whipping about to catch him. Thinking himself free, Mickie was rather suddenly betrayed by his trusty weapon clicking over to the lion’s head. Instantly the dog dove at him, and Mickie raised his gun to shoot, blasting the bot in the side and shattering its innards.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
The extended commotion caused him to miss the second dog that had snuck up from behind. A sudden force sent Mickie sprawling forward and he tumbled as a line of fire blazed across his back. Rolling aside he put some distance between himself and the hound as it pounced again, raking claws across the metal floor. The metal beast tracked the sound of his movements, turning and rushing his position. Rather than roll for distance, Mickie tracked its movement and shifted out its way. When the bot came close, he lashed out with both legs and set it tumbling. Not giving the dog a chance to recover, he raised his weapon as the lion’s head clicked into place and fired. Immediately he moved away again, staying low to avoid the worst of the hazy air.
After a long stretch with no further prowling machines, Mickie concluded he had dealt with the worst of the remaining robots. Instead of stopping to rest he did a swift round of the debris field, dealing with any jostling remnants that appeared agile enough to attempt pursuit. The smoke was getting worse, and Mickie was unable to hold back a bout of coughing back as he reached the epicentre of his trap. The Initial crater had deepened, leaving a jagged hole within the floor that led into darkness. Glancing up the smoky tunnel, Mickie was uncertain if moving through the haze was a good idea. Considering that the machines were most likely swarming towards this spot, he figured the crater might provide a convenient escape. He took hold of a large slab of metal debris and used it to swat the flaming core of a machine into to cratered hole. The lights of the fire sputtered as the metal fell but came flickering back to life as the scrap clattered against the ground.
From all appearances the path below was a tunnel just like this one, with a drop of about four to five meters. Steeling himself, Mickie tossed down his swatting sheet and took hold of the hole’s edge. He paused before lowering himself into the new tunnel. Perhaps it would be best to hide his passage, it might give him more time to escape. It was the work of about a minute to drag pieces of debris into the crater and cover most of the hole. When only a small gap remained, Mickie tucked his recovered bomb between his legs and lowered himself down to hang over the next passage. Below him the flaming metal flickered, reflecting off shining walls and pushing back the dark. The cut to his leg had stopped bleeding, however liquid dribbled down his back from the hound’s earlier slash. Hoping the fall would not worsen the wounds Mickie swung away from the flame below and dropped to the ground. The fall was not insubstantial, certainly enough to hurt him before he had died. With his strange demon body however, Mickie handled the landing with role, the bomb falling from between his legs to clang hard against the metal floor. Wincing at the rough treatment of his final explosive, he stood and set about the task of escaping.
With the bomb in one hand, he moved to use the flat sheet of debris as a swat for the flaming metal chunk but paused. Recalling how little the ice outside had affected him Mickie looked thoughtfully to the flames dancing on the metal floor. Gingerly he reached towards the metal, feeling the heat against his palm but not the expected pain. Taking a deep breath Mickie plunged his hand into the fire.
‘Like a desert breeze.’
Mickie laughed in disbelief and put a finger to the metal, feeling the warmth of a bowl that spent some time in the microwave. Hot but not unbearably so. He scooped up the flaming debris and held it up, mesmerised by the flame in his hand. Apparently, he couldn’t get burnt. Wild. Holding a flaming object felt far stranger even than walking barefoot across a frozen waste. An echoing clang from above broke Mickie from his stupor. With a shake of his head, he moved up the tunnel, heading into the dark and away from any pursuing machines.
For some time, Mickie’s world was reduced to the flickering borders of his fire light, punctuated only by the slap of his footfalls. He had run some distance initially, eager to put some ground between himself and the smoking wreckage his bomb had wrought. Eventually fatigue had set in and with no signs of machines in pursuit, Mickie slowed to a walk. Every time he reached an intersection, he chose the path that lead upwards, hopefully towards the upper reaches of the castle. The shifts in direction had bolstered Mickie’s confidence in having escaped the Machine horde, so when a faint tapping came from nearby, he nearly dropped his light in surprise.
That. That had been close. Closer than he would have thought possible for a machine to get without him noticing. It had come from behind; something must have managed to track him somehow. Turning about slowly Mickie held aloft his flaming piece of metal and attempted to catch a glimpse of his silent pursuer. Seconds thudded by with no sight or sound to alert him. Perhaps he had been mistaken. It might have come from another tunnel or perhaps some mechanism within the walls. Unwilling to take any chances Mickie started to back slowly up the tunnel, keeping his eyes peeled for movement in the dark. Moments later it came again. A rhythmic click-tap. Quiet but discernible all the same. This time when Mickie froze the clicking did not stop. It grew louder, coming closer. A gleaming shell reflected the firelight briefly before fading back into the dark. Then came the voice, cold, soft, and without intonation.
‘A light with no source. Tell me creature, are you there?’
Mickie’s blood turned to ice at the sound. He knew that voice. It had tormented him not all that long ago. Carefully, he moved the bomb under one arm and summoned his gun.
‘I realised you escaped onto the ice. Although I am surprised to see you actually came scurrying back. For a moment I thought it would be necessary to retrieve you.’
Then it emerged from the dark, low and sleek. A body of rippling carapace pieces that glowed in the firelight. Six legs with razor claws that clicked against the floor was the only sign of its passage. Taller than him, broader than him, quieter than him. The head had a distinct mammalian predator shape, and it arced about, searching for a sign of wayward prey.
‘After the commotion you caused, I decided I needed to take custody of you personally. Indeed, I have been making this body for the express purpose of such.’
The machine was well within the light now, Mickie’s hand tightened on his weapon as it approached. He needed to cripple this thing on the first shot.
‘So, creature, if you will not tell me you are there, I will have to find you myself.’
A panel on the front of the robot’s head slid open to reveal an eye. It was larger than anything Mickie had seen on a human, bloodshot with an icy white iris. The grotesque organ swivelled about briefly before focussing upon him.
‘Ah, there you are.’
Mickie raised his gun, but it was too late. The Mechanist was before him with claws raking inwards. Instead of taking the machine in the head, his blast went low while he attempted to dodge. One of the middle legs of the creature was blown apart while the front claws dug into his side, slicing deep as Mickie spun away. There was a clang of metal as the cylindrical explosive fell to the floor and rolled away. The Mechanist didn’t seem to notice, giving him no chance to rest as it came upon him once more, swinging a claw from the right. With no time to dodge Michie raised his gun to block, however the machines swing was too powerful, and the weapon flew from his grip. With only the flaming stone left to him, Mickie attempted to punch the metal face plate with it, aiming for the eye. It was only then that he noticed the robot had a tail, a long prehensile appendage that blurred over its body. With the strike of a scorpion, the tail speared him near the right shoulder, punching out his back before wrapping about his arm. Suddenly Mickie was in the air, his own attack missing entirely as he was lifted by the metallic tail. Unable to hold back a scream as the metal ground against his ribs Mickie cried out. The Machine below fluttered its plating at the sound.
‘Ah, and now I have you. How simple it was with organics.’
The tail lowered him closer the eye in the machines head as the grotesque orb was spun upwards to face him. Mickie attempted to kick at it, but the Mechanist held him just out of reach.
‘So curious, it appears you truly were human.’
Mickie gripped the tail with his right hand, attempting to alleviate some of the pressure upon his punctured body. From nearby there was a thunking sound.
‘How was it then that you evaded me so?’
The eye scanned him greedily.
‘And you managed to reattach a lost appendage. Curious.’
The mechanist rotated him slightly, examining his healed right hand. Then it froze.
‘The mark. The traitor. How?’
For the first time he could recall, Mickie heard emotion in the soulless voice. The Mechanist sounded angry, voice a sibilant hiss. Though that was not all, there was a quaver to the tone that spoke of fear.
‘Afraid machine?’
His rasped comment was met with pain as the robot tightened its tail, siding it slowly deeper into his body. Black spots appeared in Mickie’s vision, and he grasped desperately to both consciousness and the flaming metal in his hand.
‘You carry the mark of the Soul Lord. You will tell me how you attained it.’
The mechanist pulled him closer; he probably could even kick it from this distance. An icy eye stared unblinking at him, the only living part of this body revealing its fury. Mickie gasped out a breath.
‘Well, you see…’
Then he released the tail with his right hand and called his loaded gun to it, immediately blasting the robotic appendage apart. From so close a portion of the tail simply vanished, dropping Mickie right towards the head of the Mechanist. As he fell Mickie swung his flaming torch at the organic eye. The machine reacted quickly, a metal panel beginning to cover the organics. However, it was too late. Mickie slammed his flaming steel into the bloodshot orb before hitting the ground and rolling away. It was not a moment too soon as his metal foe slammed its front claws down where he had just been. Desperate not to make a sound, Mickie crawled away from the monster as it shook its head like a dog.
‘You would attack me with the heart of one of my children, human? As if holding it as a trophy was not crime enough.’
As the flaming metal dislodged from the face of the machine Mickie looked back to see a ruin of gunk and oily fire where the eye once sat. The Mechanist lashed about with its bulky form, searching for a sign of his presence. Careful to remain quiet, Mickie placed his gun gently on the ground and walked away from it. Moments later the barrel thunked as it rotated, and the twisting machine immediately pounced. Mickie called his gun into his hand and shot the creature in the shoulder as it landed, taking a front leg. With only four limbs remaining the Mechanist lashed out with its severed tail, slamming it into Mickie and sending him tumbling. The end of the tail still in his shoulder caught as he rolled and pulled free a gasp from his lips. Before he had even stopped moving the crippled robot was somehow right before him. A claw landed right by his head and Mikie dared not even breath.
‘You think if you destroy this body that it will be over human? I am endless in these tunnels, even now my children rush to this location. You will never escape.’
He needed his gun to reload. Then he could summon it an slip away again. Before Mickie got the chance however the world suddenly roared, shaking as if the castle itself were about to fall. As the quake continued the Mechanist let lose a howl. A high pitch whine of absolute anguish the caused his teeth to ache. Mickie was so surprised at the noise coming from his adversary that for a moment he hesitated to react. The sound of his gun reloading kick started his brain and Mickie raised his weapon. The golden lion roared out with a flash, blasting straight into the underside of the machine’s head. Just as suddenly as it started the Mechanist’s scream cut off. Yet the construct itself was not yet dead. As Mickie rolled to his feet, he was almost slammed by its lashing tail. Looking at the rigid robot it appeared that whatever had taken hold of the Mechanist had not vanished with its wail. While its tail lashed about in a frenzy the rest of the body was locked rigid. Somewhere deep within the palace there was another bang and crash, shaking the metal under Mickie’s feet.
Unwilling to waste an advantage he shot out one of the remaining legs the moment his gun rotated barrels. This was a rear leg, leaving the robot with only a single clawed limb at the front on its left side. The machine began to wobble dangerously with its swishing tail. Next up was the remaining front leg, toppling the Mechanist’s shell as it lost all support on one side. For the next minute or so Mickie blasted the machine into scrap, stopping only when the lashing tail finally fell limp. He stood, breathing slowly beside the silent pile of metal, observing the smoking remnants under the flickering light of his metal torch.
‘The goal was never to escape.’
With a final look Mickie turned to collect his torch and bomb.
‘Stupid fucking machine.’
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Miz-Mag watched as Mickie dropped off beetle’s side and vanished into the dark. The little demon had agreed to the human’s plan more out of desire to keep the mortal moving than any true craving for violence. To be sure Miz-Mag loved chaos as much as the next demon, but it was beginning to think Mickie might be willing to deliver them both a fatal dose of mayhem.
Watching its partner disappear from sight, the creature turned back to the cordon of machines. It had no doubt that the Mechanist was taking measures to catch them as they tried to sneak by. Hopefully Mickie would be able to provide enough of a distraction. Just in case the human was not loud enough, Miz-Mag began to heft chunks of metalized humans over their stacked explosives. It was exceedingly careful to keep space around the trigger buttons, it wouldn’t matter if they were noticed if he set the whole lot off accidently. Moments after completing his rudimentary covering there was a shout and distant explosion, one that shook tunnel and send hot air blasting by. Miz-Mag was not bothered by the heat, though the jostling of the bombs made it nervous. Up ahead the horde of robots reacted like a pack of feral dogs, rushing as one towards the disturbance. Miz-Mag’s eyes widened at they drew close, worried his plodding beetle would be crushed by their passage. However, the machines flowed around him like water about a stone. The little demon noticed a couple of robots glancing into the tray, but its covering held up under their brief scrutiny. In moments the horde had passed, and Miz-Mag was riding safely into the dark.
‘You’d better make it kid.’
The remainder of journey was quiet, Miz-Mag and his ride spent the time with nothing but darkness as a distraction. The result was an introspection that the little demon generally preferred to avoid. It thought of the human, Mickie, and the deal that had been struck between them. It was a deal that Miz-Mag had slowly lost any hope of making, having spent a century wandering the base of the castle without a suitable candidate ever appearing. Climbing higher was impossible for the demon by itself. The being at the top of the castle saw to that. For all it grew uncertain of ever finding a partner, the prospect of death terrified Miz-Mag. It had seen the river of souls that flowed beneath the ninth circle, painful to look upon and impossible to comprehend. On the day Mickie appeared in his cage that’s exactly what Miz-Mag had been doing. Looking at the twisting white and wondering what it would be like to fall in. Was there something beyond Hell? Or was the river simply oblivion made manifest? Either way it was terrified of finding out. That was perhaps, the greatest difference between Mickie and itself. The human appeared to accept death as an inevitability, even in this realm where age was an illusion and all needs were reduced to desires. With Miz-Mag tied to Mickie through their deal, if one soul fell into the river, the other would follow.
Reposition to get comfortable the little creature winced at the prospect of suddenly being dragged into oblivion. It would be worth it, however. As much as Miz-Mag valued existing there was one thing it valued far more. The climb. To reach the gates within Limbo and step free entirely. The thought made its red skin prickle with anticipation. It had been a drive that Miz-Mag had always known, tied intrinsically to the deal in an instinctive bundle that drove it to Mickie the moment he appeared. The was no way to explain the need to the human, how could encapsulate their very purpose for being into words. Kicking the metal of the beetle with its heel Miz-Mag let lose a rare sigh.
‘Well at least we agree on one thing.’
It grinned into the black.
‘The Mechanist needs to go.’
Time past slowly, creeping alongside the plodding beetle until a light drew Miz-Mag’s attention. In the distance was a yellow glow, growing rapidly. Unlike the cordon of machines it had seen with Mickie this light source was moving. As such it was not long before Miz-Mag made out another horde of robots, pounding along the tunnel in the direction the demon had come from. Soon the gleaming bodies were passing by the stomping beetle, just as the other group had. This time however the transport and its contents were hardly given more attention that it took for the machines to move out of the way. Watching the light recede Miz-Mag took the urgency as a good sign, hopefully his partner had evaded the first group. Growing so distant from Mickie was putting a strain on the demon, their connection pulling on it harder to return. The strange rests that Miz-Mag found itself requiring were unexpected. Most likely a byproduct of linking their souls through the deal. Now the little creature was discovering that distance also played a role. As the beetle travelled further away from Mickie the link between them grew taught. It was like Miz-Mag had become a dog tied to the post that was his partners soul. The more he strained on the leash the harder it pulled back and the more it took to resist. It just needed to hold on a little longer. Up ahead was another growing speck of light, and this time Miz-Mag knew it had arrived.
The beetle crawled out into the central hub, blending seamlessly into the mass of its brethren. Miz-Mag could see the central pit, a ring of open air cut into both the floor and the ceiling. Hanging in the air, above the sea of shifting beetles was the giant body of the Mechanist. Mickie had theorised that such a huge and central mass was most likely a main processing point for the bag of bolts. Looking up at the monstrous construction Miz-Mag had to agree. At the very least taking this thing out might throw the machines for enough of a loop to provide the pair with a chance to slip past. The beetle it rode moved directly for the central body, no doubt angling for a tunnel on the opposite side of the chamber. As Miz-Mag approach the huge construction it hopped from its perch and wandered over to one of the bombs, slamming the button on the top. To be sure the demon hit another three buttons then peered back up at the approaching mass of metal limbs and cameras. From this close Miz-Mag could see the arms of the robot twitching softly, like any organic creature might as it slept.
‘Sweet dreams you metal nightmare.’
Snickering Miz-Mag reached for the link to Mickie. It took hardly more than an easing of will for their connection to draw the demon in. The tiny red creature vanished, leaving fire and force in its wake.
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Mickie was staggering up a gentle incline within the tunnel when he came across another robotic horde. The machines made themselves known through the screech of metal and flash of lights. Careful to approach silently, Mickie found the metal monsters tearing at each other like rabid animals. Mantis’ cut at the legs of a long necked, spotlight wielding giant as the huge construct crushed a hound underfoot. Spider bots formed mounds of writhing steel limbs that tore each other apart. He saw a wave of them swamp a centipede as it tried to claw at one of the mantises. The scene was utter chaos. Edging about the wild machines, he snuck by and continued off into the tunnel. If the robots were going to go after each other rather than him, Mickie was not going to complain. It looks like Miz-Mag’s little present had been far more effective than either of them could have hoped.
Originally the plan had been for him to get a bit closer to the central hub before leaving Miz-Mag to blow the explosives. That way the trek out of the tunnels would be shorter and hopefully robot free. After feeling the magnitude of the blast however, Mickie was almost glad the cordon of machines had shown up. If all the robots had gone as insane as those, then it would be a pretty safe walk through the tunnels. After passing several intersections he paused as a familiar sound reached his ears. Rhythmic taps, heavier than those of the Mechanist’s body and growing closer. From an intersection he had recently passed a shadow shifted, moving forward through the dark and into the light of his still burning metal ball. Mickie laughed out loud at the sight of a beetle, scarred, battered, and trotting along the tunnel as if nothing was wrong. The robotic hauler was missing a leg, and a good chunk of its body was warped and dented. The machine appeared to pay Mickie no heed, following its inexorable path through the dark, even as the world went wild around it.
Peering at the swiftly approaching beetle, Mickie rolled his right shoulder to see how he was healing. The process of removing the Mechanists tail had been slow, Mickie pulling it out inch by inch while the wound closed about it. With the fear of bleeding out a possibility if he pulled the thing out wholesale, the slow removal had been required. It was not that long ago that Mickie had finally removed the last of the appendage, and the bleeding had only recently stopped. Looking at the approaching beetle he decided that a bit more blood would be worth expediting his journey.
As the hobbling critter neared, he sprinted towards it, tossing his gear inside before jumping and grasping onto the tray as it past. His wound immediately burst, and Mickie groaned as he hauled on the beetle and flopped into the blackened container on its back. The landing was not comfortable, it appeared this hauler had been transporting metal ore when it was set upon by the rabid robots. Most of the dark material had fallen out when it was attacked, most likely through a huge hole he noted in the beetle’s rear. There was still enough of the stuff to jab and stab at Mickie as he landed however, and he wasted no time removing the rest to secure his new resting spot. Task complete, he settled in for the ride with a hand to the hole in his right side, attempting to stem the flow of blood. Mickie was worried he might be pushing his whacky demon body a bit far. Despite having slept before entering the tunnels it was not long before his eyes drooped with exhaustion. He couldn’t sleep yet though, if the beetle bumbled into a pack of insane robots he would be caught up in the chaos. It was important he stay awake.
Mickie jolted alert with heart wrenching panic. He could smell smoke and fire, something was burning. Siting up searching for flames, all Mickie found was the tray of the beetle, only himself and his gear inside. The flaming metal torch had rolled against his leg at some point, and now rested against the fabric of his pants. While Mickie himself was immune to fire, his ragged and torn clothes were not. Swearing, he scooped up the light and batted at the lightly burning hole it had made in his remaining coverings. Without a shirt these threadbare pants were all Mickie had, and he did not want to wander the castle naked.
With his remaining modesty secured Mickie took in his surroundings. It appeared that the beetle had stopped for some reason, even though they were in the middle of a dark tunnel. Lowering himself from the construct was a painful affair, with just about every muscle and bone complaining about the recent poor treatment. Despite this Mickie still took the time to carefully cradle his remaining bomb while exiting. The cylinder of death had been poorly treated recently and now things were calmer he was somewhat wary of test the device’s stability further. Belongings secured, Mickie moved up the tunnel to find another beetle standing stationary. This one was even more beat up than his, the back end of it all but gone to leave the hauler with four legs.
‘Weird. Why are they just stopped like that?’
Moving onward Mickie found an extended line of the hardy constructs, all stationary and queued up with perfect spacing between them. After the first ten or so Mickie began to count them, as he counted higher the transports started to look in better condition. These must have been some of the earliest to arrive, and as such had avoided their rabid brethren. At the forty-eighth beetle Mickie noticed light in the distance. Picking up his pace the count of constructs was soon left to the wayside, however he did note that as the light grew, the beetles began to rabidly deteriorate in condition once more. Mickie soon rounded a bend in the tunnel, the end coming into view and leaving him speechless.
Beyond the smoking wreckage of a final few beetles was what must have once been the central hub. Staggering up to the tunnel’s opening Mickie had to steady himself. The platform leading out into the open space was all but gone, leaving jagged edges of metal hanging over a massive void, warped and misshapen, like the teeth of a lamprey with bad dental. The walls were bent and cratered, with entire sections missing to reveal a ruin of cables and inner platting. Dotting the ruined surface, like the paths in an ant’s nest, were innumerable tunnel entries. They stretch up to a distant ceiling, always aligned with the remnants of metal walkways. What captured the bulk of Mickie’s attention, however, was a massive misshapen ball of flaming metal. It lay some levels below where he currently stood, resting on what would have once been the bottom floor of the chamber. While not as devastated at the platforms had been, lowest level was rent with as many wounds as the walls, cracks leading into darkness. The molten ball must be what remained of the Mechanist’s huge central body. He had made a gamble that it was vital to the operation of the lair, and it looked like he had been right. Strewn about the flaming wreck was countless beetles, broken into an uncountable number of pieces and silent as the grave. Oddly enough, Mickie felt a twinge of sentimental guilt at the piles shattered remains. The beetles were the only robots who had actually been of any help to him. Even if it was unintentional.
‘Sorry guys, if it’s any consolation, it was a worthy sacrifice.’
Turning away from the graveyard Mickie considered the upper reaches of the huge room.
‘Now how the Hell am I going to get up there?’