Roy stood on the front porch, right hand around the rod and left hand clutching his pitchfork. He had planned to check the house next door for food yesterday but he had been delayed trying to make the magical artifact work. Now there were no more excuses, he had to take the next step and now was the time to do it.
Leaving the door open so that he would be able to make a quick retreat, Roy headed towards the house nestled right next door. His target was a bungalow of more recent construction. As he approached he realized that the first floor of the house was not slightly elevated from the ground, which meant the water line was now a foot above the base of the door.
Roy contemplated his method of entry as he stood near the front door. The last house had been empty, but that might not hold true for this house, it would be wise of him to enter with greater caution, he was in no rush. Once he entered he would have his water cannon ready to fire, it would be tricky trying to operate the firing mechanism with his left hand clutching the pitchfork. He would then [Examine] the enemy and if he thought he could handle the opponent he would blast it.
Next he would drop his ranged weapon so that he could have both hands on the pitchfork. Since the rod did damage over time he would keep his distance using the pitchforks superior range. That would be his plan of action.
Somewhat assured by his own planning Roy circled around the house once and looked through the few windows that adorned it. Using his flashlight, Roy could clearly make out the interior of the house. Half way through his rotation Roy found the monster. He cursed his luck, why did the monster have to be there, what made the house so attractive for it anyways.
Juvenile Marsh Hastaos LV 4 HP 172 / 172
Roy circled around the remaining half of the house and returned to the front. Level 4, it was a single level higher than he was. Based off what he had seen, monsters didn’t seem to spawn with a mind towards level zones. It could almost be seen as fortunate that the monster was level 4. Thinking so, Roy repeated his plan to himself mentally.
The creature he was dealing with looked like an alligator, or a crocodile, he never paid attention during biology. Its snout was uncannily sharp, almost like a sword fish. Concerning to Roy was its body which was covered in rough, rock like scales. He hoped they were not actually rough like in durability.
When he had checked, the monster seemed to be asleep. His light elicited no reaction, if so he could take the time to spray for the maximum duration of four seconds. His element of surprise would be ruined if he barged through the front; however, off to the left of the house was a large bay window.
Roy was thankful the weather had been before the downpour two days ago; the owners of the house had left the window unlatched. Taking advantage of the fact, Roy began to pry at the edges using his dagger, the window swung open bit by bit with every tug. Soon Roy could slip his fingers into the opening and slowly swing open the windows.
The window opened into the living room, a large square affair that took up half the front of the house. A hallway near the back connected the various bedrooms and bathroom that were located in the rear. That was where Roy had spotted the gator like monster.
Roy hurdled through the window frame and into the house. As he had suspected the floor was flooded with just under two feet of water. As quietly as he could, Roy sloshed through the water and opened up the front door, giving himself a route of escape if the battle with the Hastaos turned south.
The trek through the house was slow and arduous. The closer he approached the creatures near the back the more likely his steps would awaken them, and the slower he went. Finally he was only feet away from the room he had spotted the Hastaos in.
Roy held the Fungus Fryer as he peeked around the door frame and into the last bedroom in the hallway, he had charged up the weapon when he was outside the house.
The first thing that grabbed his attention was the pile of blankets on the bed. They were oddly arranged, a tangle of cloth with uncanny edges that sat alongside almost organic curves. Something about the pile was off putting, almost upsetting to some inner part of Roy. Curious, and safe in the knowledge that the Hastaos seemed to be undisturbed by light, Roy turned on his flashlight.
The edges were not cloth, neither were the curves.
Roy could taste the morning’s cookies in his mouth as he backed away from the door. He took a moment to regather his thoughts, which had been strewn about his mind like the bits and pieces had been strewn about the room, tossed about as the monster ripped with its row of teeth. He had seen alligator teeth before, locked behind bars in the zoo. Those long rows of crooked and uneven fangs used to rend and rip apart its prey.
He could leave now, take as much as he could from the cupboards and never have to face the monster. It would be the smart thing to do. But he had prepared so long for this, gotten so far already. He could feel his heart beat with some measure of fear. There was also a measure of anger.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
He could right this wrong right here, do some measure of good. Like how he had lured away the Vineborn Brute. Roy took hold of that resolve, that momentum, as he walked forwards until he found himself at the doorway, facing the dormant form of the Hastaos.
The room was lit with a sickly green light as Fungus Fryer unleashed a torrent of liquid towards the monster. The liquid was like syrup, it stuck to the Hastaos hide and slowly trickled downwards. Roy watched as he slowly coated the monster in a layer of green goop.
It seemed to burst awake the second the liquid touched its hide, with a furious round of thrashing it attempted to fling away its new corrosive coat. As it did so Roy watched its HP’s steady descent. He had emptied all two liters onto the monster and it was losing 4 points of health per second.
Then the monster seemed to slowly regain its senses as it turned its reptilian pupils towards Roy and lunged towards him with surprising alacrity. However, Roy was ready. While the monster was still thrashing around in the water he had set aside the Fryer and he now held the pitchfork with both hands.
The Hastaos’ HP was now at 140, if he could keep it at bay for 30 seconds, the length of an average TV commercial, victory would be his.
Using the narrowness of the doorway to his advantage, Roy kept the monster in front of him and the pointy end of the stick pointed towards it. Roy struck out using his pitchfork, grazing the Hastaos as it tried to surge forwards. The attack sent the creature scuttling back into the room, where it began pace about. The two slit like pupils that poked above the water surface scrutinized him for any signs of weakness.
His attack had dealt 11 points of damage and left a long gash on its hide. Slowly, but surely, blood was gushing from the open wound. Despite his success Roy was beginning to worry, the furious shaking of the creature had dislodged a great deal of the green goop. It was all too likely that the damage over time was falling off over time.
He would probably need to finish off the creature using his pitchfork. A difficult task taking into account the creature's scampering and the caution it seemed to be exercising. Roy began to back away into the hallway. The narrow corridor would not only restrict the monsters angles of attack, but also its range of movement.
Keeping his pitchfork steady, Roy slowly backed away from the monster. The Hastaos followed after him, but always at a consistent distance. Now that they were in the corridor the monster had ceased it pacing. Its body was like a patch of bare rock jutting out from the water.
A quick glimpse of the monsters HP proved that the effectiveness of the Fryer was falling. It had been almost a minute, yet the HP still stood at 54. Now the HP was falling at a grueling rate, if this went on his nerves would wear out before the creature let out its last breath.
Roy took a stride forward and pushed out with his pitchfork, the Hastaos slid backwards as his weapon approached. Still he could feel resistance well up in his arms as the prongs nicked the snout of the creature, eliciting a low growl from the retreating form.
The step had pushed the monster past the door frame of the last room, cornering it against the end of the hallway. As Roy took his next step forwards the Hastaos charged towards him, the thrashing of it body kicking up a spray of water.
Roy stabbed again with his pitchfork; the prongs slid into the monsters rough flesh, but before he could pull out his weapon a thrash of the creature’s body ripped the polearm from his grip. Then, jaws wide and menacing rows of teeth fully exposed, the Hastaos pushed itself out of the water. If Roy remembered correctly, the jaws of an alligator could snap shut with astounding force.
Before he could react the Hastaos was already upon him, its jaws snapped against his left shin like a pair of wire clippers. He could feel his bones gave way under the jaws of the monster; they creaked and groaned, snipped and snapped as the force exerted on them endured.
How much health had he lost, the number 46 came to him, embedded there by the [System]. Roy didn’t focus on that though, he pulled himself through the pain and gripped the dagger he always kept in his pocket. He needed to make the next hit count, if the monster stayed active afterwards he would lose hold of his dagger just like he lost hold of his pitchfork, then he would weaponless.
He needed as much strenth as he could muster, he needed to activate Reckless Strike, if he missed he would try again. The adrenaline pushed his upper body into a sitting position and he willed the ability to activate. Roy could almost almost hear the mental click as the ability surfaced and strength rushed into his body, along with a nauseating dizziness. Then he raised his arm and and swung downwards, driving his dagger though the top of the monsters snout and down to the hilt.
Blood fountained up for a moment, and the Hastaos thrashed once more, dragging his leg along with it and exacerbating the wound. Then its struggles died down and the pressure on his wound loosened. Roy dropped the dagger conscious of the drain it was having on his constitution, then he pried on the monsters jaws and extracted his leg from within.
Looking at the wound only intensified his pain, the flesh was mangled and the bone visible at places where the teeth had dug deep and the thrashing had parted the muscle from the bone. The water near his leg had already been dyed a shade of red by the blood running down his leg.
Roy held in a scream as he open his mouth as if he were a fish on dry land. Biting down on his collar, Roy began to drag his body down the hall and into a side bedroom. He could mentally see his HP slowly trickle away at a rate of a point every few seconds.
Finally at his destination, Roy pulled himself atop a small bed, its pristine white covers quickly soaked and sullied as he lay himself down on them. Roy hands pulled at the left leg of his trousers; bits of cloth had been embedded into his flesh creating an amalgam out of his leg. With each tug a bit of fabric was dislodged and a fresh wave of pain coursed through him. The whole wound was a mess, covered in bits of mud and soaked in the fetid pool that had accumulated on the ground.
It if he could stop the bleeding, his health, which had fallen to the upper one hundred, would regenerate within an hour. Hopefully not long enough for infection to set in. But currently the damage over time far exceeded his pitiful HP regeneration. Pitiful compared to a video game, Roy corrected, miraculous compared to how things used to be.
Rolling up the tatters that had been his pants, Roy had to hold down his tears, and his breakfast. Was this his leg, what was he looking at? Roy pulled out the blanket from under himself and began to tightly wrap it around his leg. Roy finished his make shift bandage with a solid looking knot. Now that his leg was tightly under wraps Roy felt somewhat better, blood and gore were not conducive to a healthy environment.
Roy lay down on the bed and tucked a few pillows under his leg to slightly elevate it. His HP was still looking alright; in fact he had more health right now then a healthy adult. That brought a smile to his lips. Now all he could do was wait, hopefully his regeneration would overtake his bleeding.
The light shining through the windows was faint, as it illuminated the water Roy could make out faint wisps of red. Blood suspended in the water, carried along by currents imperceptible to him. The water was calm and almost crystal clear. Beneath the floor boards could be made out, it was like looking into a fish tank. Everything took on a mystical property underwater.
Roy could see various knick-knacks lying beneath the surface. There were plastic wrappers and old crumpled pieces of paper, all swept from their hiding places by the intruding waves. It was a microcosm of the town, the everyday rendered in a different light. What was usually hidden brought to light, and what was mundane now inundated.
He needed some water, no scratch that. He wanted a coke.