DAY 6

The last few nights passed in a daze. Whatever mania had been fueling me had died and left behind discontent restlessness. I just plodded around the burrow aimlessly. I was sitting beside the fungi garden growing out of the piles of tree goblin puke when a large hand grabbed the scruff of my neck and dragged me into the hallway. I flailed and looked up, it was Abe, frowning in a way that would have looked comical if not for him manhandling me.

“Let me go!” I squirmed, but wasn't able to break his grip, and he dragged me along like a puppy.

He hauled me into the main cavern and tossed me into the ring that had been compacted into the ground. It looked like the entire tribe was here. For the first time I noticed that many, the fighters, were decorated with white marks on their chests and arms. Grob had the most ornate swirls and lines, with Abe and a few others having more basic designs, and getting more simple from there. Many held sticks. They had me surrounded.

“What?” I looked around, but couldn't figure out what was going on. The crowd was silent. An odd display of discipline. Grob grabbed a scrawny goblin and pushed him into the circle with me.

“Fight.”

“I don't want to.” I turned away and tried to walk out of the circle. The crowd pushed me back in. My opponent shuffled closer, looking terrified. “Just leave me alone.”

“Fight!” Grob roared. There was something compelling in that primal scream and it lit a fire in my heart. I saw it affect the others as well. A wave of passion swept through the tribe. Blood thundered through me, each pulse an electric jolt that compelled action.

The other goblin rushed me, clawing for my face. I threw my arms up in front of me and jumped backwards. I kept retreating until I was pressed against the crowd. He cut a deep slash across the top of my head. Someone behind me shoved me forwards. I used the momentum to dive down and scoop his legs. We crashed down and I drove my shoulder into him, his head whipping into the ground and breaking the crust of spit-hardened dirt. He started pounding on the back of my head so I kneed him in the crotch to no effect. We rolled and I ended up with both arms on one of his, and my leg across his head. He bit my leg as I hauled on his arm and it broke with a wet crackle. He screamed, letting go of my leg so I pulled it back and kicked him in the throat. I kicked him over and over, but the screaming wouldn't stop. Someone grabbed me from behind and pulled me away from my opponent. He was laying still, and I was the one screaming.

“Karl. Live.” Abe said as he held me until I stopped struggling. Grob poked the prone goblin, who seemed to be dead. He shrugged, put a foot on its abdomen, hooked a hand under the ribcage, and ripped it open with casual brutality.

“Eat.” The crowd surged forwards, tearing into the corpse. Within seconds he was reduced to bones, and then those were gone. Grob walked over, holding out a bloody chunk in his hand. It looked like the heart. I grabbed and ate it, ravenous after not eating anything all night. He snorted and walked away.

Abe poked the cut on my head so I smacked his hand away.

“Leave me alone.” I limped away across the cavern to the exit.

Several branches covered the entryway so I shoved them aside. The night air was cool. I had gotten used to the humidity of the tunnels. I paced back and forth between the trees, rubbing the bead bracelet absently. My head was pounding, with a rising high pitched whine in my ears. I hadn't had a fight anything like that since high school, with the kids all crowded around screaming. They really had been like wretched little goblins, and so had I. Fighting over stupid shit like someone using a squirrel deck in Magic, except this time no teacher to come break up the fight and give us stern warnings about our permanent record. Phantom lights swam in front of my eyes as I clutched my head.

My vision fragmented into red as the trees around me vanished. This memory wasn't familiar. I saw a deep cavern littered with bones, the rock etched with symbols that hurt to even look at, at its heart a pit containing swirling shadows and countless eyes. Slowly one eye turned to focus on me, and then in a ripple of motion they all did as well.

"We see you now, Little One." A cacophony of whispers crept into my mind from the shadows.

I turned away, covering my eyes, but I still saw them watching me. They had seen me and now they knew where to look.

The vision, or perhaps a memory, shattered, leaving me back in the forest, trembling as it left.

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"What the hell?" I whispered, blinking. Why was I shaking just from remembering some dumb school fight? Splotches drifted across my vision as I blinked, like I had been staring at bright lights, then they faded and were gone.

“Alive?” I looked over and saw Abe leaning against a tree behind me.

“Guess so.” I rubbed my head, the cut had scabbed over already, but I felt weird, as though I should be more hurt. “I need to go.”

“Where?”

“I don't know. There has to be answers out there somewhere.”

“More books?” He held up the bundle, holding a stick in the other hand.

“I didn't hide that very well I guess.”

“Karl is dumb and smelly.”

“Asshole.” I took the book and stick from him. “Don't die while I'm gone.”

“Strong.” He clapped me on the shoulder, nearly knocking me over.

I left it at that and turned towards the distant clearing. It was the only lead I had on other intelligent life. Here's to hoping they were willing to talk.

The clearing didn't seem to have been visited in the last few days. There were no new boot prints, and the scent trail was almost completely gone. I followed it north for several more hours, until it reached a small stream. The person had camped here as well. If this was the pace they kept, I might catch up to them. The scent made me think they had stayed here until two days ago in the morning.

A large tree had fallen across the stream, bridging the two sides. I hesitated. What would happen if I fell in? Did I even remember how to swim? The closer I got to the river, the more unease I felt. It was the same as the cave. Some inborn instinct was trying to keep me away, so I forced my way closer. I went to the water's edge and leaned over. The water was clean and clear, and tasted fine when I scooped up a few handfuls, flowing a bit higher than my head. I took a look around for a more shallow spot, where it was about chest height for me and the current was slowed by an outcropping of rock.

I left the book up on the bank and tested the bottom of the river with the stick. It was reasonably firm. Slowly I stepped in. The water was cold, so I took a few deep breaths, closed my eyes, and crouched down until my head was under water. Immediately I regretted it. There was no familiar feeling of buoyancy, I sank right down like a rock. I clung unto the stick and pulled myself out of the water. Clearly swimming was not an option. Sneezing the last of the water out, I scrambled back onto the bank and picked up the book. Carefully I crossed the fallen tree.

Over the next half hour the land flattened out, the trees becoming less frequent, and also much smaller, but more orderly There seemed to be a distinct line beyond which the trees had been planted only a few years ago. Instead of untamed wilderness, these trees were planted in orderly rows. I hesitated here for a moment. Multiple scent trails crossed the area, several of which were unfamiliar to me. The person I was following frequently went through here in all directions, but there were also traces of others.

Stopping for a while, I carefully looked around. Going past here felt like a huge risk, I had no idea what things would be like, or how they would react to me. I had played way too many games where goblins were all considered kill on sight. Anxiously I continued on.

The sky was brightening a bit when the wind shifted. The scent of countless things melded together and washed over me. Shortly ahead was a total break in the trees, and I could faintly see silhouettes of buildings against the night sky. Approaching with as much caution as I could I crept forwards until I could see that this was a cabin, and what might be a barn. My target's scent lead right here, it seemed that they lived here, or at least came through here every few days. A few other people seemed to as well, perhaps as many as five people could be in the cabin. I went to the barn instead. I could smell something more similar to the forest animals, maybe a domesticated cousin of the goat. Livestock of some sort. A few other buildings were further along, but a few faint sounds from in the cabin sent me scurrying back.

By now it was almost dawn, so I retreated back to the trees, and then moved away from the trails to find a place to get some rest. I hadn't grown the shovel-like paws of the diggers, but I was pretty capable of scraping out a small hole to curl up in.

I paused when I heard a fluttering overhead and looked up just in time for large talons to dig into my shoulder. The hawk was at least twice the size of normal, and the sudden attack threw me off balance. It was flapping furiously, but couldn't lift me. I screamed and lost my footing, falling to the ground. The impact knocked it off me and I tumbled onto one of its wings with a crack of bone. It shrieked and hopped up, flapping its one good wing ineffectually.

Scrambling backwards, I swung the metal book up just as the hawk pounced, the impact with its beak knocking the book out of my hands, but giving me time to tackle the bird, getting under its sharp beak, and biting into its neck. Talons cut at my legs as I retreated. We were both exhausted, wounded, but these jagged goblin teeth excelled at ripping flesh. Blood was spurting over the feathers, and gradually the bird sank down as it bled out.

When I was sure it had died I flopped onto my back, panting. I was terrified, exhilarated. Red static was creeping into my head as a memory swallowed me.

I had just crashed my new, adult sized and too large, bike on the street outside our house, and my mom was running over from where she had been washing the car. My knee and hands were scraped and bleeding, but I was trying not to cry. I had just turned thirteen, and only little babies cried.

"I'm fine, let me go!" I swatted away mom's hands and stood up, reaching for the handlebars.

The memory shattered around me, my head pounding with a searing pain behind my eyes. I was kneeling over the bird's mostly devoured corpse, covered in its blood. My mouth tingled, something crunchy sizzled on my tongue. A puff of vapour wafted up, quickly evaporating into the air. Something had happened and I had missed it. The electric sensation burned down my throat, searing me like acid.

I stumbled away, clutching my head, and collapsed onto the ground. Desperate for any relief I clawed at the ground and pressed my head against the cool dirt. Another memory surged in, more recent and much more potent, leaving me twitching uncontrollably.

I was clinging to the toilet, jacket dangling off one arm, dry heaving. The remains of jello shots, beers, gummi bears, and nachos were splattered over my shirt and the floor.

"Just, uh, try to relax, buddy. You'll be fine." Ryan, my roommate, said from the doorway. Someone asked something from in the other room, I missed most of it as I retched again. From the other room the music was still blasting as his college buddies kept partying.

"I don't know. Wait, that was your jello? He had like four!" Ryan sighed and turned back to me "So, Karl, you'll be fine in a few hours. Probably. Try not to freak out if things get weird."

The red static of the memory faded to black, and I passed out.