“Our destination is near,” GrimLord pointed upward to the crest of the hill far above them. He looked positively jubilant as he walked the dusty landscape with Scooter trailing close behind.

“Hill… This is a mountain.” Scooter breathed, his glasses sliding down the bridge of his sweaty nose. The hill was steep and covered with grey ash, making the footing loose. Scooter thought about the gym membership he paid for every month for the better part of a decade. He regretted not using that membership more. Or at all for that matter.

“Ouch!” GrimLord’s intangible body left no footprints, so Scooter found the many sharp surprises beneath the grey ash. Darn it all. Why had he taken off his shoes?

As fast as you can. I’m counting on you, Scooter.

“How long is this going to take. I really need to be getting back,” Scooter reminded.

“The people you left behind will barely notice your absence,” GrimLord said. “This should be an easy task for someone of your abilities.”

“Well people say I’m a jack of all trades.” Scooter said this to himself attempting to build his confidence. “But master of none.” Any gained confidence leaked out of him. He had so many questions for GrimLord but he didn’t want to distract him. Furthermore, GrimLord was laser focused on whatever quest Scooter needed to complete.

The sky eyeball hung over them, watching, but no longer announcing Scooter’s presence to the world. It was as if it had been silenced.

“Hurry now, not much farther,” GrimLord encouraged as he reached the top.

“Easy for you to say. You’re intangible.” GrimLord tapped his foot impatiently, waiting for Scooter to join his side. Like a surfacing whale, Scooter arrived with a loud gasp of breath, face beet red. He plunged the sword into the soft earth, and leaned his body against it, steadying himself, trying to find his wind. He looked at his watch to see the time, but couldn’t help being annoyed by his step count. He shook his arm vigorously.

“Come on. Only 3,200 steps? And no points on the green ring? Is this thing work-“

Scooter became aware of his surroundings and the view cast a silence upon him, striking the words from his mouth.

He stood at the edge of a mile wide crater carved into the earth. The ground fell away from them, sloping downward toward a boiling lake of blood. The surface frothed and heaved, as waves smashed against black, jagged tooth-like rocks below. Overhead serpent beasts circled the lake while they bellowed frightful sounds into cloudless sky. One of the small ones thrust its bat-like wings against its body, plunging at breakneck speed to the surface of the lake. It unfurled its wings in time to glide just inches above the surface, snapping an aquatic creature into its jaws. Dog-sized hermit crabs with demon skulls for shells skittered back and forth along the shore, waiting for prey. It was as if they stood on the lip of a great demon’s mouth, as it gargled and spit blood.

Suspended in the lake, maybe 250 yards from the shore, was an island of rock siting just a few feet above the surface. It was flat on the top like a table. Upon it danced a slender vortex, the slender funnel seemingly anchored to a single location on the ground.

A click clacking sound to his left jolted Scooter from the apocalyptic scene. It was a crustacean like the ones below, snapping and snipping its claws in Scooter’s direction. He fumbled to remove the sword from the ground, instead knocking it to the ashen ground. Upon trying to retrieve it, he kicked the blade further away in a puff of ash.

GrimLord’s eyes narrowed.

Scooter retrieved the hilt from beneath the ash, pulling the blade free from the thick coating of ash. The crab lunged forward, claws snapping like bear traps. Scooter took a step back and lost his balance, tripping over his feet. As he fell, the blade thrust upward, cleaving both of the crab’s arms in a surgical cut. The beast shrieked and a purple spray of blood pulsed from the wound. Enraged, the beast exposed its head, that of a horned wolf with empty sockets for eyes. A segmented tongue hung out of the open mouth, twisting and flipping like the detached tail of a lizard, smelling the air, tasting the fear nearby.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Scooter pushed his body backward along the ground, desperate to escape the reach of his nightmare. The creature’s tongue lapped at his feet and it howled. The sensation tickled and Scooter howled as well. He got to his feet as the wolf crab continued to howl and for a moment Scooter wondered if his unwashed feet caused it pain. Growing up he never expected the his legendary pungent feet to save him from being eaten alive by a crab monster.

He was darn thankful he took off his shoes earlier.

With the sword angled slightly downward, Scooter said, “I’m sorry about this,” and plunged the blade straight through the snarling dog head. It gurgled then slumped to the ground as if asleep. Scooter slid the blade out and looked around for something to wipe off the greasy blood.

“Finished,” GrimLord asked, arms crossed.

Scooter nodded. He thought about reprimanding GrimLord for not helping, but he was intangible, what could he do?

He waved his hand across the grand sweep of landscape like a gameshow host revealing a phenomenal prize. “Upon that island is your quest.”

“Um. What?” Scooter stumbled, but regained his composure. “I have to kill all those… things?”

GrimLord laughed. “No, no. Nothing like that. I’m not a monster,” he scoffed. “Look around you, this is a dead world. But you can help us. You see the island there? If you were to walk upon it, you would find a small hole in the ground, smaller than your fist. Insignificant in size, but the hole has an oversized impact on this world as it slowly drains this world of life energy. You can see the vortex at work. ”

“So what do I need to do?”

“Nearby a small plants grows, upon which is a seed, harder than any material in this world. If we can get the seed into that hole, it may seal the leak forever.”

Scooter peered into the crater at the legions of demonic beasts, leaping and severing and gashing, and cursed his luck. “Can I walk into the blood lake?”

“Only if you no longer need the lower half of your body. It’s scalding hot and would be devoured by demons. There is a reason I’ve chosen to cross into your world pitching that silly game.”

“Golf? You want me to hit the seed into the hole like we’re playing golf? I was banned from a mini golf course for losing too many balls.”

GrimLord was unmoved.

“I don’t even have a stick or club or whatever it’s called,” Scooter complained.

Grimlord pointed to the severed crab arm, which through rigor mortis actually resembled a gold club fairly closely. “It’s no titanium driver, but it should do.”

Scooter picked up the crab claw and swung it around like he knew what he was doing. “So where is this seed?” He swung again and again, feeling like a golf pro suddenly.

“Not far. Just behind that rock,” GrimLord said.

As fast as you can. I’m counting on you, Scooter.

The fruit didn’t grow on a plant that you’d want in your yard. It looked someone buried up to their head, but the neck stretched to an obscene length away from the ground. At the top of the neck was a “head” with metallic, razor -sharp leaves radiating in every direction. In the center of this head was a hole as big as his fist, lined with tooth-like buds. One of these buds was large. With shaky hands he tried to pluck it from plant but it wouldn’t budge.

“You need to use the sword,” GrimLord instructed.

Scooter angled the sword carefully, and popped off the seed with the blade, but also popping off some of the smaller ones with his clumsy attempt.

“Now you must remove the shell. With the sword, yes. It’s the only way.” GrimLord smiled as if a wish were coming true.

Scooter brought the sword down upon the tooth-like shell, splitting it cleanly into two pieces. Inside was a dimpled seed, amazingly similar to a golf ball.

He put the seed on the ground, and grabbed the crab claw firmly. He swung the club, stopping just before striking the ball. It was easily 250 meters to where the hole was. He was no golf pro, barely played golf at all in fact, and his hopes of hitting such a precise shot were not great. But he felt good. Darn good. He looked at the ball and then the hole. The ball. The hole. The ball. The hole.

Scooter swung with all his might, trying to remember the covers of all the golf video games he ever played, the closest he would ever be to a golf professional. He swung with power, wishing the ball to its target.

The crab claw hit the ground a few inches before the seed and exploded into a shower of crab meat and shell flung into the air. The ball bounced a few feet away and rolled down the slope with increasing speed. Scooter heard a faint “plunk” as it found the edge of the blood lake.

“Darn it all.” Scooter held the remaining inches of crab claw in his hand knowing that next time he’d do better. Afterall, there were two crab claws on the ground.

“Disappointing. But it’s alright. We can try again.”

As fast as you can. I’m counting on you, Scooter.

“Okay that was just a warm up. I think they say I’m going to take a Gilligan on that one. Where is the next ball, er- I mean seed?”

“That’s the only plant in this world. We’ll have to wait for another to grow.”

“Wait for it to grow? And how long does that take?”

GrimLord thought for a moment. “About ten years.”

As fast as you can. I’m counting on you, Scooter.

* * * *