"How are we supposed to fight an antlion?" Sean asked dubiously, his mind already racing as it tried to recall any information he could on the creatures. "Aren't those the things that live in sand traps and prey on whatever comes close?"
"A giant antlion." Gel corrected. "And in answer to your second question, yes, that is exactly what they do."
That about lined up with what he remembered from a Geographic Nation special on the species, or at least the Earth version of them. That episode had stuck with him mainly because many of the video games he had played as a kid that featured them as enemies had left out two crucial details on the aggressive little nightmares.
One: The whole 'sand trap' thing antlions were famous for was actually just part of their larval phase. Once they had eaten enough unfortunate victims to fuel their next phase, antlions would metamorphosize into something that looked sort-of like a dragonfly to go buzz around and lay more eggs. Which meant if there was one antlion here, there were likely more flying around nearby and that Bancroft had somehow gotten one to plant an egg right at the exit of his own house. The idea was unsettling, but definitely within the realm of plausible for a necromancer building a flesh pit in his basement.
Two: The damn bugs were venomous! They would literally dissolve their prey after paralyzing them with a bite from their mandibles. Sean imagined being trapped in the mandibles of an antlion that was big enough to make the ground shake, and felt an involuntary shudder run through him. The act made Gel jiggle around in his ribcage.
No wonder that guy ran. Sean mused, looking over at the exit again as he made his way back out of the crowd of skeletons. I wouldn't want to get sarlacc'd either… but where did that thing go?
Seizing his chance now that Mumbles was gone, Sean made his way back to the center path and peered around the corner. What he saw made his missing heart drop.
Sand, gravel, and dirt had been flung all around the room, covering several of the skeletons adjacent to the exit – each of whom had moved back a few paces. The smooth sand walkway that had led outside had been replaced by a distinctive, almost carved-out sliding pattern falling back into an enormous, sloping hole in the sand just on the other side of the open door. The newly revealed sand trap was huge, spanning at least ten feet across in all directions. Its circumference alone was easily enough to trap a full-sized sedan – let alone a single skeleton with a slime riding shotgun in his chest.
Sean had no doubt that whatever lived inside there would dwarf the tiny bugs he remembered from Earth. The only real question he had was its range of movement. Judging by the marks in the sand around it, the antlion was capable of reaching out at least another eight or so feet from its abode.
Which takes jumping over it out of the equation. Sean thought dryly to himself. Then, to Gel he asked. "Any ideas on how to get past that?"
As if in answer, Sean's broken right arm lifted itself from his side, holding a dented, partially rusted iron pickaxe up like it was a prize-winning trophy. Sean stared in open-mouthed shock at the appendage he still couldn't even feel as it began to proudly bob the pickaxe from side-to-side as if the tool were dancing.
In his mind, a cocksure voice pierced his stunned disbelief.
"Nope! But I do believe I have found a solution to our trapped slime problem." Gel said, marvelling in the magnificence of his own achievement. “Behold! The mighty pickaxe!”
That was when Sean’s orbs finally registered something new about the appendage. Gel's clear body had snaked itself all the way through his broken right arm, even covering the tips of his fingers which were now firmly gripping the rusty tool's handle. The slime’s body undulated in time with each wiggle of the pickaxe as if the transparent liquid were flexing. His entire broken appendage seemingly held by marionette strings while Gel moved Sean's own damn arm all by himself.
"Wh– how are you– no, when did you–?" Sean was so surprised he couldn't get all of his questions out fast enough. He tried to move his right arm again, hoping the slime had somehow managed to fix him – but as far as sensation went, it still stopped at his shoulder. Everything below that was still completely numb.
Despite repeated efforts, his broken limb didn’t respond at all.
At least, not to him.
"I grabbed a new node when we leveled up! Figured it might let me assist with that whole arm issue you’ve been having." Gel explained happily, dropping the arm back down to Sean's side and inadvertently clanging the pickaxe against a rock. "Oops.”
Gel lifted his arm about midway again, wobbled around a bit as if showing off, then put the pickaxe down a bit more gently. “Still can't move my own body around much. Parasite trait and all. But if I have something to anchor against, then I can at least start helping out more.”
If Sean still had eyes, he would be blinking in confusion right now.
"Uh-huh. So, you’re using me as an anchor against… myself?" Sean asked, staring down at the broken, phantom limb and not at all sure how he felt about the situation. At least Gel’s intentions were noble, but…
“How does that even work?”
"Yup!” Gel responded brightly, ignoring Sean’s second question. Though whether that was because Gel hadn’t heard him over his own excitement or simply didn’t know the answer, Sean couldn’t tell.
“Now we've got two useful arms again! Awesome, right?"
Logically, Sean understood Gel's thought process here. Their ability to fight was intrinsically tied to their odds of survival in this world. Both had dropped severely when his arm had been crushed by that crab. Especially with no way to heal or repair the damn thing. With his arm now 'back in commission' so to speak, those odds were now much more friendly.
The rational part of Sean’s undead self embraced this new change, and even cheered on the slime for his prudent decision-making. Having the slime in control of the broken remnants of his lost limb would definitely be a leg – or, more literally, an arm – up on their current situation.
Still, the less-rational and still-human parts of him couldn't quite shake the unease he felt at the thought of his own arm being moved around of someone else's accord. Ridiculous as it was given that they were bonded togehther, the fact that Gel hadn’t even asked beforehand bothered him as well.
As he jogged them back towards the cuboid, genderfluid slime's room, Sean decided it might be better to bring his concerns up now in case more of his body parts were put on the table in the future.
"It is awesome.” Sean began. “But you can't just take a man's arm, Gel."
"What?" Gel responded, clearly confused at the sudden change in conversation. "Why not? What if it looks tasty and he’s not eating it?"
"No, I meant my arm." Sean corrected quickly. "You can't just take my arm over without permission."
"Why not? We’re in this together, aren’t we?"
The earnest companionship and unshakeable belief in Gel’s voice cut right through any desire Sean had to argue the point. Those were the same words he had used on his circle of best friends back on Earth when they were deployed out in the desert. When they had asked him why he spent all that time after hours trying to turn the garbage food they had been given into something worth more than the time it took to choke it down.
If Sean still had lips right now, he would have pursed them together. What did his little hangup over a broken limb matter, compared to someone who was actually trying to help?
It doesn’t. Sean realized as he jogged along. It’s not like it was a malicious thing, either. Gel’s just trying to help, and the little nut has a point. We are in this together. Literally ‘bonded’ to one another. If he’s already using my old eyes and sitting in my chest, why should I care if he’s able to move a broken arm? Hell, like he said, it might just be what gets us out of this mess.
Looking at it another way, this also meant he had one less limb to worry about. The gamer in him found the practical applications of that compelling. He wondered if two minds controlling different limbs might make them a better fighter later. Or at least, a less predictable one. The concept had merit, if they could get it working.
Sean did still have one question about this new development, though.
“How do you even know how to do that? Move my arm, I mean. You’re a slime, you’ve never any.” Sean asked, slowing his pace and watching the limb in question more carefully as Gel moved it around. Now that he was paying attention, he could see the arm’s movements weren’t nearly as fluid as he had originally thought. There was much more jerking around than ‘moving’.
“It’s not that hard. I’ve seen humans far less intelligent than me flail their meaty bits around more when they do it.” Gel responded with satisfaction, jerking Sean’s right arm up and waving it towards the skeleton as if in greeting. “See? I’m practically better than you at this already.”
With another one of his new, teeth-clattering laughs, Sean finally squashed the last of his discomfort. It had already been fading away anyway, though whether that was due to Gel’s earnest reactions or the emotion-dampening effects of his new body Sean didn’t know.
Either way, he had other things to worry about that mattered more than who was controlling what.
As if the slime had heard his innermost thoughts, Gel spoke up as they neared the doorway.
"And don't worry, I never dissolve my friends." Sean’s own slime-covered hand lifted as if to emphasize the point, then pointed the pickaxe at the door in front of them. "Now, let's go bust my cousin out of prison!"
Sean was about to ask if the slime had any idea what they were going to do after his cousin was freed. Some sort of plan to keep the massive slime from devouring them right back in return for the favor, but then he glanced back over his shoulder at the sand pit. The crystallization of a crazy, and yet almost poetic idea began to form in the skeleton’s mind as he remembered the beast guarding the exit. One that just might be exactly what they needed to get out of here.
"You know what? Hell yeah.” Sean agreed, moving forward to open the door. “Let’s get that sucker out of there."
"About time you got on board with slime rights." Gel remarked. “Just don’t go asking to free all these other skeletons next. We’re going to need a long-term plan if we want to help all of them.”
Resisting the urge to roll whatever passed for his eyes now, Sean ducked into the cube slime's room and headed straight to the monstrous air conditioning unit's tank.
The massive, gelatinous creature blooped twice in a way that sounded suspiciously like a greeting. Thankfully, Gel made no such noise in response. Sean wasn’t quite ready for the slime to fart for him. Though that did give Sean an idea.
“I should have asked this earlier, but can you talk to him?” Sean asked as they walked up to the monstrous air purifier. “Like you do to me, I mean. Or something similar?”
“Nope.” Gel said in an all-business tone, swinging the pickaxe back and forth like a pendulum building up speed.
“Wait, so we have… no way to communicate with him?” Sean asked, stopping right in front of the tank. “Or… her?”
“Nope.” Gel said again in the same tone, swinging Sean’s arm back like one of those carnival ship rides.
“So, you’re just gonna–”
A sudden cracking sound interrupted Sean’s words as the pickaxe finally swung all the way around and crashed completely through the all-too-thin glass. Designed to hold in a monster it might have been, but before the blunt edge of a weapon designed to crack open rocks the glass may as well have been made of sugar. Spiderweb cracks sprang out from the impact site in every direction. The iron frame of the contraption groaned and the remaining glass bent as the weight of the enormous inside slime overwhelmed the punctured material of its cage.
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The room fell eerily silent for a moment. As if the world itself was waiting with baited breath to see what would happen next.
Then Gel wrenched the pickaxe back out, taking a sizable chunk of the lower panel of glass with it, and the entire front of the cage shattered into a million tiny pieces.
"Yeeeuuuuuup.” Gel said, his voice a gleeful tone of pure satisfaction as the pair watched the rest of the glass cage fall to the ground around them. The only remaining safety measure between them and a massive, corrosive monster now completely destroyed right before their very eyes.
The cube slime blooped again, and this time Sean could have sworn the damn thing sounded pleased. Then the monster began to warble around in its now-open cage, and he began to seriously consider abandoning his current plan. Even if it was far too late to do so.
“It’s… going to try to eat us now, isn’t it?” Sean asked with resigned acceptance in his voice as he took a cautionary step back while his bonded slime laughed maniacally in his mind.
“Yup!” Gel crowed in the same tone as before. Sean hadn’t even waited for the response, he had already turned and sprinted back through the doorway they had just come through.
“She. Is. FREEEEEE!” The slime cackled, shouting each word in a progressively louder sequence as his ridiculously oversized cousin smashed its way out through the last of the glass and splashed into the room.
“Yeah, free to kill us!” Sean snapped, sprinting down the path and mentally cursing himself for the pure madlad energy of this plan. He made it all the way to the center of the room before even daring to look back. When he did, his jaw dropped open in shock.
A tidal wave of clear, corrosive fluid measuring at least a dozen or more feet across had exploded out of the door he’d just left, gathering up everything in its path as it gave chase. The re-animated warriors of bone standing guard on either side had been swept up like paper dolls caught and crumpled by an invisible storm. What remained of the wooden door, itself having been ripped off the frame, was now rapidly disintegrating inside the oncoming wave even as it smashed into yet more of the helpless undead.
What supercharged Sean's drive to move faster however, was that the damn thing hadn’t slowed down at all. It wasn’t stopping to eat the undead or the door, it was coming straight for them!
Why is it coming for us?! Sean cried out, so unnerved for a moment that he forgot to ‘send’ the mental communication to his friend. Turning to face back towards the antlion’s pit, he began sprinting as fast as he inhumanely could. Directing his thoughts as he went, he sent his frustrations to Gel properly this time.
“Why is it coming for us!?” Sean demanded. “Aren’t you his cousin?!”
“Distant cousin.” Gel corrected almost abstractly, making that rather crucial distinction for the first time ever. “Not sure how many times removed, but at least a few.”
Sean grunted internally and, rolling his eyes at the response, decided it was time to enact the craziest part of his master plan. Moving his bone legs as fast as he could possibly manage, Sean sprinted full-tilt directly at the pit. It was difficult managing it with only one moving arm, given that the other wasn’t under his control and partially threw his balance off. Gel did the best he could, the slime at least managing to keep the broken limb out of his way.
A note of urgency and quite possibly fear poked its way into the slime’s own voice, rapidly deflating his previously manic laughter. “Uhh… Sean? Why are you running towards the us-eating nightmare bug? Isn’t that a bad idea? A categorically bad idea?!”
Instead of answering the question, or commenting on Gel’s own recent and categorically bad idea, Sean simply shouted back. "On my signal, toss the pick!"
"Wait, what? Sean, what are we doing?!"
Sean didn’t have time for more words. He could feel the splashes of the enormous, oncoming slime wave landing all around them. Could hear them bubble and sizzle as the corrosive liquid, clearly much stronger than Gel's own, attempted to burn through everything it landed on but the very rock itself. The sheer number of skeletons like him the thing must have engulfed by now–
Not the time for distractions Sean, it's right behind us! The sprinting skeleton thought to himself, dodging past one of the armed undead – the bucket-head one, amusingly enough - who had finally seemed to notice the danger and was now bracing itself against the incoming tide.
Barely a moment after Sean passed his fellow minion there was a whump sound followed by the clattering of a bucket and set of bones smashing helplessly against the stones.
Dear god, how is it so fast?! Slimes should not be that fast!
Sean ran for all he was worth, pumping every ounce of speed out of his skeletal legs. He was much lighter now, even with Gel, because he had never been anywhere near this fast on Earth.
He just hoped it would be enough.
Right before the cuboid slime’s wave of destruction overtook them, the pair reached the edge of the antlion’s pit trap. A rumble of rock sounded from below and in front of them, though the sound was only a drop of noise in comparison to the cascading avalanche of noise at their backs.
"Now!" Sean demanded as he stepped to the last section of firm ground before hitting the sand.
"Now what?!" Gel demanded back, the slime’s own fear at their imminent dissolution getting the best of him.
"Throw it! Throw it now!" Sean thought back as he crouched down and leapt across the pit like he was diving through air. His one good hand stretched forward in a closed fist as if the meager force could propel them just that little bit further.
The antlion roared up from beneath as they passed, its massive pincers aimed perfectly at its prey–
– only to stop as the pickaxe Gel had thrown straight downward caught fast in the creature's open maw.
The surprise on the enormous insect's face must have been a sight to behold as the antlion’s upward momentum was halted mid-lunge in its confusion. Its massive, chitinous body that only partially resembled an antlion of Earth paused, still half-in and half-out of its sand trap, forelegs scrambling towards to grab whatever uncrunchable thing had fallen into its mouth.
It was in that compromising, mostly exposed surface position that the underground-dwelling bug was slammed into by a crashing tidal wave of corrosive, clear liquid. Liquid that was still carrying at least a dozen or more dissolving undead along with it, along with the crushed remnants of an unfortunate bucket-helmet. The creature screeched in rage and began to fight back, but it was no match for the sheer weight of the cube slime's thick mass.
Sean saw none of this as he landed in a messy heap on the far side of the antlion's pit, briefly wondering if ‘Pounce’ wouldn’t have been the better choice earlier. He didn’t have time for such thoughts now, however. Nor did he have time to risk a look back as he scrambled to get back up onto his feet and out of the sinking sand. He clambered away with all the haste of a man in close proximity to death itself, all the while thinking:
Not today, George Lucas– not. To. Day!
Gel helped the scramble by forcing Sean's broken arm to push off the sand as they went, granting him some much-needed balance. As soon as they made it over the edge of the pit, Sean jogged what he judged to be a reasonable distance away from the creature before finally turning back to survey the scene. When he turned back, what he saw was equal parts fascinating and horrifying.
The formerly cuboid slime and the antlion were locked in a vicious blob of battle. Or, perhaps more accurately, the mini-tsunami slime had completely engulfed the antlion which was now trying its best to tear the slime apart from the inside. Both creatures were sinking into the depths of the sands now, the immense weight of the pair dragging them into the earth towards the bottom of whatever hole the antlion had made.
Sean eased the tension in his jaw, mimicking what would have been a sigh of relief if he'd still had any lungs. Then he clasped his one good arm into a fist, giving a mental whoop of "Hell yeah!" at having survived not one, but two nightmarish monsters… and for somehow pulling off his “let the giants fight eachother” plan.
Unfortunately his excitement lasted all of a single minute before one of the second floor windows of the building he had just exited lit up from the inside.
Oh shit. Sean thought, realizing they were quite literally right out in the open now. If that’s Bancroft, there’s no way he’s not going to see us! Crap. We have to hide!
Given the sheer size of the man's pets – not to mention his small army of recently disintegrated skeletal warriors, any of whom would have been more than a fair match for them on an individual basis – the necromancer was not someone Sean was keen on fighting right now. Especially since he still had no idea on what it would take for Bancroft to reassert control over him.
A quick check of his pulse sense didn’t reveal a heartbeat anywhere he could detect outside of the pit however, so Sean dipped back towards the building. He kept moving, tracing the edge of one wall until he had rounded a corner that led them well out of view of the lit window. This would be his first time actually outside in this new world, and a part of him was thrilled at that fact – he wanted to take in the stars and see what the sky looked like on a completely different planet – but he needed to focus on their survival for now.
Shaking his head as if to clear it of irrelevant concerns and the wailing of the monsters behind him, Sean resumed his search for somewhere they could lay low.
Ahead of him laid a mostly empty courtyard with relatively few opportunities to hide aside from the odd garden feature. Man-sized hedges and shrubs, a stone statue here and there of someone he had no hope of recognizing, and even a stone-hewn waterfall – though all had fallen into disrepair. What greenery was left seemed less vibrant, and more bleached of healthy color. Like it had all begun dying weeks ago, and was only holding on out of sheer spite. Both the statues and the waterfall mirrored this look, each having cracks forming all around their surfaces.
A few hundred or so yards away from his position Sean could see a roughly 4 foot stone wall encircling the property. There were no spikes atop it, no obvious traps… only a few undead guards occasionally roaming the perimeter. None of whom had so much as glanced in his direction despite the commotion of his escape.
The wall itself was a straight shot to freedom, but a treeline not far from it kept near-range visibility low. With the immediate threat of the antlion gone, Sean wasn’t terribly keen to dash off into the unknown without a bit more information. At least not if he could help it. So he took this time to peer around, getting a true sense of the lay of Bancroft’s land.
What he saw wasn’t much different from before. Nothing dotted the landscape of the rest of the courtyard save a few withered-looking trees, several patches of blackened flowers, and a whole lot of what looked to be long-dead, nearly-grey grass. A few well-traveled paths through the dirt had been cleared through the withered plant life, one of which headed towards what appeared to be the property’s main gate.
Guarding that entrance were a rather large pair of undead zombies wielding wicked-looking polearms, and two black hounds with blue fire-tipped collars. Both of the zombies were twice again as tall as he was, if the stone wall near them was any indication of height. The hounds must have been at least the size of a mastiff back on earth, and each of their paws ended in bone claws instead of any sort of padding.
Welp. Strike that one from the list. Sean thought half-sarcastically.
He might be willing to chance that another pair of his fellow undead wouldn’t attack him, sure. But he wasn’t about to roll the dice on what looked to be hellhounds of all things. Sean had grown up with dogs. He had absolutely zero desire to end up as a chew toy for one.
Thankfully, a bit further across the property and away from the main building were a few wood-and-stone buildings dotting the estate. Including what appeared to be a large stable just beyond them. There were several dirt paths converging on that point, but the path to the stable looked the least traveled of any he had seen so far.
Jackpot.
With a careful glance up at the blessedly-closed windows on this side of the building he had just left – Sean assumed the massive structure was more rightly called a ‘mance’ – he began making his way towards the stable in what he hoped was a casual undead-minion sort of stroll. The kind that wouldn’t arouse any suspicion, or have one of those dogs decide that they needed his femur to chew them through the rest of their shift.
“Sean… what in the barbecued hell are you doing? Freedom is the other way. Behind us! That’s the front door.” Gel said in his mind before Sean had even made it two steps into the clearing.
“And?” Sean shot back, trying not to keep his head on a swivel for someone who might question where he was going and, admittedly, failing miserably. There was just too much to keep an orb on.
“And… I thought you were attached to your new unlife? To our lives? You’re going to get us killed! Bancroft could be up there right now, what if he catches us!? ” Gel’s voice gained a hint of the slightly manic panic that Sean had heard from him right before they had jumped earlier. “We can’t face him right now, we need to—”
Where the courage to boldly stride through an evil necromancer’s literal heavily-guarded front yard had come from, Sean couldn’t have said. Maybe it was from escaping death so many times in a single night. Maybe it was from having the amount of fucks he had left to give finally running out. Or maybe it was thanks to the pervasive sense of calm he could feel now that he was finally out here in the cool night air… but for once it was Sean’s turn to interrupt the slime.
“We need supplies.” Sean explained in what he felt was a very rational tone. “And we also need information. There’s gotta be something in that stable we can use, man. We’ll take a peek in there, grab whatever isn’t nailed down, and be gone before anyone notices. Relax. It’ll work. Trust me.”
Gel was quiet for several steps, the slime rotating about in Sean’s chest like a disco ball on senior’s night. Sean could feel that Gel was being anything but inconspicuous… but he didn’t want to stare down into his own belly to make a point. Especially when his own orbs were sweeping the yard back and forth at nearly the same pace. Making a show of things would just help convince any random onlooker that he was more than just another mindless servant on some random task.
So, Sean just kept walking. He kept his shoulders high, and his chest forward. More out of a desire to hide the slime inside it than out of bravado, but the gesture still felt right.
“... I am not a man, and I resent the accusation.” Gel said eventually, before the slime let out a defeated sigh. “I do, however, wholeheartedly approve of your desire to rob Bancroft blind before we leave, and since I want to encourage that sort of behavior in the future… I’m in. So long as I get first dibs on anything edible.”
“Deal.”