The wide expanse of the material storage room stretched out in front of Jane. Rows upon rows of tall, wide walls full of drawers and cubbies grew from the floor, reaching for, but never quite touching, the ceiling. The ghoul quickly led Jane into the stacks. The neat rows between shelves quickly turned into a disordered labyrinth of organisational space as he silently kept a count of their turns on his fingers.. “We need to make this quick,” the ghoul said, still running up their tally of turns. “We’re not supposed to be here.”
“What do you mean?” Jane asked.
“Well, you’re not supposed to be in here. I brought you here. If we get caught… we don’t want to get caught.”
“Caught? By what?”
“The Huntsman. ”
“What’s the Huntsman?”
“Me.” A thick voice spoke softly behind them. The pair turned around, seeing the creature that had answered Jane’s question.
The creature stood before them, tall and slender. Its hairless, pale form rose up from a multitude of feet. A multitude of hands branched off of its body, each one holding a different implement of violence. It took a moment to look them over, its eyes betraying a cruel intelligence, before its mouth split into a sharp smile filled with childlike glee. The Huntsman lifted a short rusted sword to its face and licked the blade slowly, as if savoring the memory of a fine meal.
“We need to run.” The ghoul whispered. “On my mark.”
“Go!”
The pair turned and ran. The Huntsman took a moment to let out a shrill whistle before it gave chase with a whooping cackle. It swung its sharp implements around as it loped after the fleeing plumbers.
Jane heard several thumps behind him. He looked back to see several creatures running closely behind them, with more crawling out of alcoves in the walls to join the chase. The quill covered creatures had fat, grey, pear-shaped bodies with six muscular limbs coming off of them at the sides. The limbs each ended with prehensile hands tipped with sharp claws. The creatures’ eyes glowed with a malevolent light. They were gaining on them.
“What are those things?!” Jane asked, wishing he hadn’t looked at them.
“Gröm.”
They came to a fork in the labyrinth.
“Go left up here, Ill try to lead them off.” The ghoul said, fire blazing to life in his hand. “Try to find high ground.” The ghoul threw his hand backwards. A bolt of fire burned a line across Jane’s vision before landing squarely on the chest of the lead gröm. The creature screamed and rolled on the ground as fire clung to it. The other gröm flowed around it, pushing faster after the ghoul who had killed one of their own.
The two plumbers split up. The gröm followed the ghoul. The Huntsman followed Jane.
Jane hurried through the maze. His breathing grew ragged as he tried to stay ahead of the creature that was slowly gaining on him.
“Yes. run piggy. I can smell your fear.” The Huntsman called after him, slowing down just enough to not catch the plumber. As Jane rounded the next corner, movement from the wall caught his eye from further down the corridor. He ran closer, seeing that drawers had been pulled out from the side of the wall, creating a pathway to a large cubby. Jane reached the drawers, the huntsman close behind him, and sprinted up the impromptu staircase. The Huntsman followed him, but slower than before. Its many limbs tangled in the compartments of the drawers, and it struggled to climb as fast as the much lighter plumber.
A shrieking sound rang out under Jane’s feet as the platforms behind him pulled themselves back into the wall. Jane ran faster, looking behind him as the Huntsman lost its purchase on the platforms, falling back to floor of the corridor.
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“No!” shrieked the Huntsman. Jane ducked into the cubby as the creature’s arm came around in a tight arc, launching a spike of metal at him. Jane felt a sharp pain in his side as the spike tore through the steel wall of the cubby, and stuck there, protruding far enough to draw blood from his flank. Jane threw himself deeper into the cubby, pressing a hand to his now bleeding side. “I’m coming for you!” The Huntsman cried from below. Jane chanced a peak over the side to see the Huntsman clambering up the wall, using the steel drawer pulls as hand and foot holds. Jane turned into the dark cubby, looking for a way to escape. A dim incandescent bulb flickered on at the far wall, illuminating a single steel hatch.
He ran to the door and tried in vain to rotate the handle. The handle was rusted closed. He took his pipe wrench, placed the teeth around the stem at the center of the wheel, and pushed down as hard as he could. With a groaning shriek, the wheel came free. The door was open. The Huntsman crested the top of the wall and immediately ran for Jane with savage fury.
Jane ran through the door, closing the heavy steel hatch behind him. He hooked the teeth of his steel pipe wrench around a nearby 1 1/2 in. steel pipe and pressed the handle against the edge of the door, giving it a quick tug to make sure it was secure. The door slammed open as the Huntsman tried to get through. “Open this door, meat!” it cried as it tried to force the door to open, but each slam of the door only tightened the wrench onto the pipe. Jane turned and ran, the cries and threats of the Huntsman following him down the tight service corridors. Once again, Jane was alone.
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“Damn!” The ghoul swore as it saw the Huntsman turn to follow Jane. With the gröm on his heels, he could only run and hope that his new apprentice somehow made it out alive. If not, he hoped that the other plumber would at least get a quick death. He looked backwards as he threw another firebolt, watching in satisfaction as the bolt arced into the chest of another gröm. The creature screamed as it flailed and fell to the ground.
I’ve got to get back to Jane. The ghoul thought to himself. A gröm lept at the ghoul from behind, its entire body split open to reveal a gaping maw of needle-like teeth. A firebolt lanced into its mouth. I definitely don’t have the time or mana to kill these things one at a time, he thought, looking at the half dozen gröm behind him, but I don’t think I’ll need to.
The ghoul rounded another corner, still keeping track of his turns out of deeply ingrained habit. one more right, then a left. The gröm closed in on him, forcing him to run faster. The ghoul didn’t tire, but he knew his body would give out soon. He rounded another corner; the turn slowed him down more than the six-legged creatures behind him. Another one lunged for him, reaching out for his legs with sickle-like claws. A bolt flashed out, another gröm died, there were five left. The final turn approached. I need to make some distance. The ghoul channeled an excess of fire attuned mana into his arm, the hot energy scorched the inside of his appendage as he drew it forward into his hand. Then, slowly, he manifested the energy as fire. A roaring gout of flame burst from his scorched hand as he swept across the hallway, igniting several of the gröm as well as the ground between them. His charred arm dropped limply to his side as he felt for his remaining mana. Only enough for one more bolt. he rounded the last corner; a great round clearing opened up in front of him. Here it is. Acetylene Storage.
In the center of the clearing stood a large pillar covered in dials, gauges, and valve handles. Hundreds of hoses ran out from the pillar like the roots of a great tree, terminating around the clearing at the tops of B-tanks scattered around the room. He quickly pulled a B-tank of acetylene over to the corridor’s entrance from nearby, then ran for cover as he channeled his last fire bolt into his off-hand. Before he could reach the shelter of the pillar, he saw the gröm round the corner, bunched up and almost tripping on each other to get to him. He threw himself to the ground as he threw his conjured bolt at the tank. The shot landed. The tank erupted into a great fireball as shrapnel ripped through the remaining gröm. He got up and studied the scene for a moment. Charred flooring and shrapnel were all that remained of the tank. The bodies of the gröm bled against the far wall where they had been thrown by the blast.
“The general is gonna be pissed.” he said, as he began walking back to where he had lost sight of his apprentice.
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The Huntsman slunk away from the door, stopping to retrieve the spike he had thrown. He brought the tip of the spike up to his face, examining it. A long tongue lashed out to taste the small amount of blood that glinted off the first half inch of the sharp point. His face opened up into an ecstatic smile. “Found you.” he whispered.