Jim stepped forward and poked the weird man in the chest with the end of Fred.

The man stopped, and looked down at where Jim had poked him. Fred had made the red appear, and lots of it, just like he always did, Fred was good like that.

The man made that weird loud noise with his mouth, which got quieter as more and more red came out from the Fred hole. Jim seemed to remember that he could make that noise once upon a time, but he must have forgotten how. He’d have to try it later, it looked like fun.

The man was on the floor now, lying in the red and getting it all over himself.

Jim went to him and poked him again. The man made another noise, but a lot quieter, hardly a noise at all really. Then a few seconds later, the man stopped moving.

“You died!”

There was the voice. It always cheered him up to hear that voice. He wished he heard it more, but Jim only ever seemed to hear it when weird men visited his part of the dungeon. And it never seemed to say anything to him specifically. It was always talking to other people, never him. Why? Did the voice not like him? Jim thought he was very likeable.

The man’s body remained still, the red spreading out very far around him, almost like the water pool a few rooms down.

Jim knew it would be a little while before the man became a friend, so he put Fred in his trusty scabbard and walked away.

Jim had been surprised when the man had entered his room. Hardly anyone ever came in his room, especially not a visitor. The man had looked distracted, not noticing Jim standing there staring at the wall. Jim liked staring at walls, he had a favourite spot that he really enjoyed looking at. It had mould on it and everything. But the movement in the doorway had caused Jim to look and see the man first.

Jim’s surprise had then become determination. He had known what to do. The man had to be poked by Fred. He didn’t know how he knew. He didn’t know why he had to poke weird men that came in his room, it was just, well, Fred’s job. He didn’t question it, he just did it.

Fred sometimes wondered if he should try and say something to them. Maybe they knew why they needed poking? But every time they walked in, Jim didn’t hesitate. He just got the overwhelming urge to poke the weird men. Nothing else mattered in that moment. Jim just supposed it meant he was really good at his job.

Jim walked down the main tunnel, the uneven floor worn smooth by his patrols and those of his friends. A smooth floor always felt good on his old bones.

He walked out into the large living chamber. Several of his friends were already here. Jim was a bit disheartened to see that most of the good wall staring spots were taken. His fault for not getting here early he supposed. The weird man had made him miss the prime spot that had a red stain on it AND some dirt. At least three of his friends were clogging that spot today. Ah well, they were enjoying themselves, and who was he to ruin their fun.

He walked over to the other side of the room, where Ethyl was standing and looking at Edith. The two were locked in one of their famous staring competitions. These were always fun to watch. Jim stood next to them, transfixed. Ethyl had the upper hand, she was younger and could stand still for longer. But Edith could pull it back, she had an eyeless gaze that could make people fall apart, Jim knew, he’d seen it.

Edith apparently wasn’t on form today though, and as she turned her neck with a click, their contest was over.

“Hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh” Ethyl said, she really had a wonderful voice too.

“Hsssssssssssssshhhhh” Edith said in reply. At least she was gracious in defeat. Jim knew some people that would take it too personally, and that was when fights started.

Ethyl turned to Jim, who looked back into those beautiful sockets of hers. Was there…something between them? He had always thought so. Jim had sometimes seen her looking at him. She knew he was the best at standing still. Had he finally impressed her enough?

Finding some courage that he didn’t realise he had, Jim opened his jaw and politely said, “Kkkkkkkkhhhhhhhhhhhrrrrrrrrrrr”

Edith took a step back, her jaw now wide open. She was obviously blown away by his wordplay.

Flushed with pride, Jim bid her good day and sauntered back to his room. It had been a wild afternoon and Jim felt he should leave before he overdid it. His friends sure knew how to have fun.

On his way back through the tunnel, Jim heard a noise. It sounded, like rocks moving. That was odd. Rocks didn’t move unless someone else moved them. Had Dave moved the rocks and not told anyone, that was very rude of him. He would have to have a word with Dave about his rock habits.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

CRASH!

Jim was suddenly on the floor. He tried to move, but couldn’t. His arms, they were pinned. His legs, also pinned. His cage, broken and mangled. His skull, several feet away from the rest of him.

A giant rock had fallen from the ceiling right onto him. Well that was inconvenient. Now he would have to sit through the annoying process of dying.

Jim waited for the words to appear. He hated the words. He understood the words less and less these days, they were just so…wordy. They didn’t really mean anything. Maybe they had once, but not now.

Still, at least he would get to hear the voice twice in one day! That was always a plus.

The words appeared before him, on that big blue screen that changed the wall that horrible colour whenever it was around. Oh how he hated that colour!

Level 10 Skeleton has been killed by: Boulder

Initiating respawn…

Jim scowled. Obviously the voice was not for him this time either. It was never for him. He wasn’t Level 10 Skeleton, whatever that was. He was Jim. Surely the voice knew that. Everyone else did!

Jim remembered there was always a white light when this happened. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it. He remembered it felt good, but at the same time, he always felt a little different afterwards whenever it happened.

There was the light, in all it’s strange glory. It filled Jim’s vision and suddenly, he was back in his room again. Was that really necessary? He had been going that way anyway!

Jim checked himself, sometimes things went missing.

Twenty four ribs, check.

Two humeri, two radii, two ulnae, check.

Two femurs, two tibiae, two fibulae, check.

Two…feet bones…check?

One hand bone, check!

Jim felt at his skull. It still felt the same, silky smooth. He still had all his teeth that he could tell, that was great!

Jim smiled. Well, he was always smiling but right now he really…felt like he was smiling. It felt like the right moment to smile.

He looked around. The same cave, the same patch of wall, the same indents in the floor. Even the weird man’s body was still there, still waiting to becoming a friend.

It seemed like everything was the same. Looks like that boulder had not completely ruined…where was Fred?!

Jim looked everywhere, he looked high and low, he even looked inside himself, sometimes Fred had got lodged in there, he was sneaky like that. He couldn’t find Fred anywhere. Fred was usually easy to find, he was shiny and was usually the sharpest person in the room.

Jim was distraught, it just wasn’t the same without Fred. It felt wrong without the weight of Fred on his hip. Who was supposed to do the poking? Jim couldn’t do that himself, that just wasn’t done. All other weird men would go un-poked and Jim knew that he definitely did not want that.

Jim scratched his skull. He was confused, had Fred run away? Was Jim not as charming as he thought he was?

Jim looked at the only thing that was even remotely different in his room, the weird man’s body. Did he have something to do with this? All this mayhem had started when he had showed up. Had he taken Fred? No, he couldn’t have, he was resting, waiting to become a friend.

Regardless, Jim still checked his body. It was damp and sticky, and heavy. He had trouble lifting him, his old bones were not what they used to be. The weird man’s eyes were white and milky, staring up at the ceiling. Jim couldn’t blame him, the ceiling was so interesting to stare at.

When Jim looked at the weird man’s waist, he got excited. There was Fred! He was much cleaner and shinier, and Jim could have sworn that he was longer that he had been a few hours ago, but it was Fred.

He pulled Fred off of the man’s hip. He would need to have a word with him when he became a friend to not take Jim’s things.

Holding Fred up, Jim could see just how shiny he was today. Jim could even see himself in him. Gosh he was a handsome devil. The off milk colouring, that crooked jaw, the way one of his legs was slightly shorter than the other, his left arm ending in nothing. Perfection itself.

No sooner had Jim finished admiring himself in Fred, than the voice said something for the third time today! He was so lucky!

Item obtained: Sword of Charon

Created by the underworld ferryman himself, Charon, this sword requires souls to function. When it strikes a killing blow, the life of the victim will be revealed to the wielder.

Attached Quest: Dead men tell great tales

Charon, ferryman of the underworld, is bored. He ferries the dead, day in day out, and they are never in the mood for conversation. He longs to hear their stories, their tales of woe, their lost hopes for the future and their hilarious causes of death. He commissioned this sword to tell the stories of those who are killed by it, something to pass the time on those long boat rides. By mishap, it got lost and found it’s way to the mortal realm. Now it has ended up in your hands.

1. Kill 100 souls with this sword.

2. Return this sword to Charon.

Reward: Unknown.

It spoke to him that time. It definitely spoke to him! HIM!

Jim jumped up and down, nearly falling apart in the process. The voice had finally spoken to him, and seemed to be offering him something. And it was something to do with this…sword?

Wait…so this wasn’t Fred?

If this wasn’t Fred then Jim wasn’t interested. He chucked the “sword” over his shoulder blade and it clattered on the stone floor.

Looking around again to see if there was a crevice that Fred could have ended up in, Jim stopped as purple light enveloped the weird man’s body.

Oh, that was fast. Normally they didn’t become friends for a day or two. Maybe there wasn’t as much of a backlog.

The light filled the body of the weird man, animating him and filling him from head to toe. The man’s eyes went from milky white, to dark purple. The light vanished, and the man stood up, swaying slightly on the spot and slipping on his own not long dried red pool.

Jim thought it only polite to introduce himself.

“Hhhhhhhhhhhhgggggggggggggghhhhhhh” he said in greeting.

The weird man, now friend, turned his head with a crack, his purple eyes fixed on Jim.

“Aaaaaaaghaaaaaaaaaraaaaahhhh” he said back. His voice was a deep baritone. He could give Ethyl a run for her money.