The jostling darkness of the dumpster feels quite nice despite the smell. I mean, it should be downright oppressive, with the bad air and the heat. Oh yes, it's hot in here, which somehow makes things smell worse.
But the sensation of us moving, the slow rocking back and forth that sends food and discarded items falling on us and shifting below us, feels oddly relaxing. It's like sleeping in a tent, finding comfort in the knowledge that it keeps out the rain, even if bugs crawl over and around you.
Being inside a giant metal container feels good because it's safer than being outside. Outside, there are humans and elves who all hate goblins. Inside, there are small six-legged bugs that crawl on you and sometimes bite. And the rats, unlike the giant kind, aren't interested in eating goblins; they only nibble. Dagger already persuaded (stabbed) a few not to do that.
So we're safe, and judging by the low hum of Sneaky Goblin, the humans don't know we're in here. All good things, even if we have to endure the smell. However, there's one problem. The humans have been carrying this trash bin for about 30 minutes, and eventually, they'll pop the "lid" and find three little goblins hiding inside.
Unlike most humans we've encountered, these humans definitely possess magic. They have a lot of magic to lift this giant trash bin with magic alone. I whispered to Spoon, asking her if she understood human magic, and she only replied with one trembling word, "strong." I lost the desire to ask more questions if even Spoon was afraid.
We lay in silence, hoping the sky wouldn't open up. We prayed to Yeezus, silently begging him to deliver us from the clutches of human hands. But prayers to Yeezus for safety can easily go unheard. The dumpster started to tilt and sway, tumbling half-eaten food and other broken things around and over us. The end of the journey must be drawing near.
Then something terrible happened—the world shifted, no, it rolled!
"HEAVE!"
The trash went from bumping past us to tumbling over us, crushing us under its weight. Tons of garbage pressed against our bodies, forcing out a collective scream.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAW!" we cried out in unison.
"HO!" The booming human voice followed after an explosion of gray light and terrible hooting sounds. And yes, falling. Falling hard and fast, and...
THUNK!
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Ouch. Ouch. "OUCH!" Everything hurts, and panic sets in as I'm being dragged and dragged.
"That hurts!"
Dagger's grip on my left arm feels as tight as a snake's, as he pulls with all his might towards the welcoming blue sky. He does so with only one arm, the other braced against a solid piece of white porcelain trash shaped like a horseshoe. He grunts as he pulls, while two little green arms are wrapped around his waist, bracing him and… wait those arms have to belong to-
Spoon! A smile spreads across my face, even as dirt and spoiled banana peels roll off it. I kick hard and purposefully—left foot, right foot—trying to wedge myself free as Dagger pulls harder and harder, until...
POP!
I'm sent flying into the air, into fresh air unlike the putrid smell of my makeshift grave inside the human trash pile. I'm airborne, then not, as I crash down with a big "oof" that sends a brief spasm of pain up and down my hip bone. But no system message. We've gotten tougher!
And we're still alive. Yes, we're smelly—oh god, yes—we're smelly, unnaturally so, with food stuff and plain grime inside our clothes, our pores clogged with the slimy residue of human waste. Being inside a dumpster for so long has dulled the smell's gag-inducing potency. Besides, Mt. Gabo can smell way worse on a hot summer day, when those who didn't make it back after a raid outnumber those who did.
But we're ALIVE! That's what matters. I run to hug Dagger, then Spoon, who miraculously kept the butta churn on her back despite everything. A single strap of clothing fiber keeps the awkward gourd on her left shoulder, while the right shoulder strap is still put together. So, despite being lopsided, the butta churn remains safe.
We escaped.
WE ESCAPED!
YES, YES, YES! I run in circles, I jump, I scream, I dance with rotating hips and spastic waving arms. Dagger laughs and joins me, waving his arms up and down like a bird while jutting his head back and forth. Spoon laughs and claps along, her hands making a weird "thamp, thamp" sound that we dance to in our joy and excitement! We made it!
A loud crash echoes across the junk pile, startlingly close, followed by the unmistakable sound of scrambling stubby clawed feet and squeaky surprise. It was a giant rat, but not just one—a whole horde of them. The mound of garbage, so safe and human-free moments ago, is now alive with new guests. Big, hairy monsters with beady red eyes and large ivory buck teeth. Glistening black and brown fur, some spotted, others lumpy and diseased. And we are surrounded.
Even Mt. Gabo doesn't have this many Giant Rats! Looking around, there's only food and places to hide for miles in any given direction. We were dumped on top of one trash heap in a smelly villa of dozens. The sun, one part gift and curse, is moments away from setting, promising the safety of darkness to both goblins and monsters alike.
"We've fought Giant Rats before!" Dagger says with surprised enthusiasm.
And he is right. We have fought Giant Rats before, but never this many, and never outside the safety of fellow Goblins within earshot.
"Not this time," I gulp. "We need to run."
Spoon slaps my shoulder, causing me to spasm a little from fear. "I thought you Raiders were good fighters!"
"I'm not a Raider!"
"Ex-Raider!"
"Ex-Raider!" Dagger repeats with a goofy smile.
"Whatever I am, I'm not fighting 50 giant rats!" I shout back, now more irritated than scared.
Spoon looks at me, her eyes glowing with violent, volatile mana. "Of course you aren't."
Dagger takes a low stance, his dagger held in a reverse grip, a smile on his lips.
"We're doing it together!" Spoon declares with a smile. But who made her squad leader!?! But before I can protest Spoon steps up and with fire on her lips, shoots a Spark Spark Boom Boom with authority-
“FUCK!”