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Little Shorts: Stories Inspired by Artober
Day 8: You only die once, luckily.

Day 8: You only die once, luckily.

image [https://i.imgur.com/KhGw53Y.jpeg]

The Moonlit Tavern, dimly lit, smoky, and filled with the grumbles of familiars nursing their drinks. Every Tuesday, they gathered here to escape their masters and complain about work. A toad familiar, Leonard, sat with his legs sprawled, croaking bitterly about unpaid overtime. Next to him, a raven named Quoth ruffled his feathers in irritation. “Do you know how hard it is to get cauldron muck out of feathers? And do I get hazard pay? No, I do not!” he cawed, slamming his mug on the table.

Across from them, Terrible—or Terri for short—was a mess. The cat familiar hunched in a corner, paws trembling as he attempted to sip his spiked coffee. His ears twitched, his tail flicked, and every time he tried to drink, he spilled half the cup onto the floor. His eyes darted around the room, wide and haunted.

Leonard croaked loudly. "Hazard pay! I don’t even get paid overtime! It’s always Leonard eat this bug. Leonard give me your warts. He doesn’t even say thank you!"

Terri's pupils dilated, and he gave a hollow laugh that sounded more like a wheeze. "Thank you! I’d welcome eating bugs. Try being an experiment tester!" His voice cracked as he took another shaky sip, spilling more coffee. "At least you guys only die once!"

The table went silent, the familiars exchanging uncomfortable glances. “Oh no, Terri's doing the 'past lives' thing again,” Quoth muttered under his breath.

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"I remember my third life," Terri said, his gaze distant. "I got crushed under a cauldron. Witch didn’t even notice for hours! She just kept stirring!" His voice trembled, and he took another gulp of coffee, spilling even more. “And in my fifth life, I was turned into a newt by accident. Spent weeks crawling around until she figured out the spell!”

Leonard looked aghast. “Weeks as a newt? That’s rough, man.”

Newton the newt shouted, “Hey!,” in offense from the other side of the bar.

"You don't know the half of it," Terri continued, his eyes narrowing as he twitched. "In my seventh life, I got zapped by lightning during a summoning gone wrong. And my eighth... Oh, my eighth life!" He shuddered violently, his fur standing on end. "I got eaten by a hellhound! A HELLHOUND! Do you know what it’s like to be chewed twice?"

Quoth flapped his wings nervously. "Uh, Terri, maybe you should—"

Terri slammed his paw on the table, spilling what little remained of his coffee. "Do you think I can just forget? Do you think I can just let it go? I’ve seen things, man. You don’t come back the same after getting turned into a ghost by your own witch, then used as a spirit guide! I led myself to my own grave!" His eyes twitched wildly.

Leonard and Quoth sat in stunned silence as Terri's rant reached its peak. "You all have it easy," Terri hissed. "One life, one death, and you're done! I’m on death number nine, and there’s no telling what fresh horror awaits me! Hopefully I’ll stay dead this time."

The tavern fell silent, only the sound of Terri's uneven breathing filling the air. After a long pause, Leonard cleared his throat. "Uh, how about another round of drinks?"

Terri nodded, still trembling, as he muttered, "Make mine a double."