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Interlude: Worm Food 1.13

Interlude: Worm Food 1.13

Galen crawled or slithered.

The latter was more accurate.

He dragged himself down the tunnel on his belly.

Pain shot up his legs with every movement.

The battle outside had reached unimaginable, for him, heights based on the sounds that penetrated through the stone and the shaking.

It had been a nightmare the first few minutes of that with the thought that the entire mountain was on the verge of collapsing on top of him, burying him forever.

By the time he reached the ladder the battle had fallen silent.

He muttered curses as he stared down the shaft.

Red gems lit the narrow space.

There was no way he could climb down the rungs without using his feet.

He was strong and athletic.

Fifty chin-ups on a good day.

How far was it to the floor?

He was certain that it was more than fifty chin-ups worth.

Maybe he could cold mist step his way down?

He tried and failed.

The Skill didn’t activate.

He cursed.

“Of course,” he muttered, “it’s not cold mist crawl.”

He had rope as part of his kit, so he busied himself tying it to the top rung while he thought of something.

The idea came a few minutes later.

He gingerly touched the back of his ankles.

Blood on his fingers, but it was mostly dry.

The scary rogue lady hadn’t lied about stopping the bleeding.

Pain was the issue along with the severed tendons.

Even the slight touch had watered his eyes.

So much for adrenaline.

He had painkillers in his kit, but those wouldn’t do anything.

Morphine would work, but would render him incapable of climbing down and leave him at the mercy of the attackers or the monsters.

Then again, he had already tried his one healing potion. It had been completely ineffective.

He could only assume that she had used a Skill or ability.

So, the wound couldn’t be healed through artificial means.

Yet, she had been able to stop the bleeding.

What if he didn’t intend to heal?

He popped a few aspirin and chewed.

Then he focused on his feet and ankles.

The cold mist responded to his will, emerging from his lower legs.

Numb the pain.

Instant relief.

It went from a 13 to maybe a 7 on the pain scale.

Manageable.

Galen climb down.

The rope prevented disaster when he almost slipped.

Ten rungs at a time.

He stopped to rest. The numbness allowed him to put some weight on his feet.

The cavern was a devastated war zone.

Scorch marks marred the surfaces.

Fires burned.

The smoke collected at the ceiling, but there appeared to be holes for it to keep flowing.

A huge hole in the floor gaped like the entrance to hell.

He crawled toward the tunnel leading to the surface.

Even if he had the means to contact the Bat People he’d rather try the Golden Eagles first.

Boot steps echoed.

“Hel—”

The smile fell from his face when he realized that the steps weren’t coming from the tunnel in front of him.

They came from behind.

He looked back and instantly wished he hadn’t.

It was the tall archer guy.

The bow hung limp in one hand. An arrow dangled loosely in the other.

He walked toward Galen legs jerking, stuttering, stumbling. It was as if he was being puppeted by a terrible puppeteer.

Galen’s eyes tracked up the man’s body.

Armor and clothing were scuffed and cut with dark, wet spots.

His face—

Galen screamed, drew his pistol and squeezed the trigger until it clicked on empty.

The rounds punched through the man’s light chest armor of padded cloth and thin scales of steel woven into the surface.

He didn’t react.

His mouth opened in a silent scream, revealing fine, hair-like strands reaching toward Galen.

More strands emerged from the man’s nose, eyes and ears.

Galen crawled for his life.

He heard the man’s stumbling steps grow steadier with every step behind him.

He desperately climbed to his knees, stumbled and steadied.

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The pain brought white stars to his vision, but he ground his teeth and pushed through it.

There was nothing quite like a fate worse than death to motivate one to his feet.

“Cold Mist Step!”

10 feet.

He gasped.

An arrow skipped of the stone floor a few feet to his right.

“Cold Mist Step!”

The tunnel loomed 10 feet closer.

An arrow skipped a few inches to his left.

“Cold Mist St—”

Heat struck him in the back.

He crashed into the cold stone, face first.

His twice broken nose began to gush again.

He turned, trying to push himself up to a seated position.

He flicked the mag out of his pistol to reload.

Emptied it almost as quickly.

The archer guy was walking steadier now as he drew an arrow and fumbled a bit before nocking it on the string.

Galen reloaded again, aiming at the man before changing his mind.

Better to die then be turned into whatever that was.

He placed the barrel under his chin.

He had so many hopes to become just like his heroes.

Eyes closed.

He squeezed the trigger.

The bang hurt his ears.

“Huh?”

He was pretty sure that a bullet to the brain was an instant sort of thing.

He shouldn’t have been feeling anything.

He checked his gun.

The bullet fell out of the barrel.

Delusional fantasy in the instant before death.

He had heard all sorts of random thoughts and theories from his fellow Golden Eagles during boring guard duty or long road trips where there was nothing to do but talk about any random thing that popped in their heads.

Some said that maybe, just maybe, you could live out an entire lifetime fantasy in the second it took for the lights to go out.

An arrow hit him just above the knee.

He screamed.

This was the worst death fantasy ever!

The thwang of the bowstring hit him, but the arrow didn’t.

It hissed past his left ear then his right.

The archer’s head snapped back. When it righted itself the arrow stuck out of his eye like a flagpole.

He pounced like a tiger.

Galen covered his face and closed his eyes.

The shadow remained over him.

He cracked one eye open to see the archer hovering a few feet above him. Hair-like strands reached for him.

“You got to destroy the brain.”

The woman’s voice was familiar.

“I did.”

The man’s voice wasn’t.

“Not enough, obviously, duh.”

The man sighed.

“Come on, Hon. Just free that poor man.” Another woman, also unfamiliar. “I need to heal that poor kid. He must be in so much pain right now.”

The arrow shaft in the archer’s eye moved violently, reminding Galen of how he attacked a jar of natural peanut butter that had separated from disuse.

“Keep the worms away from the kid— shit! Is that Galen?”

He looked back.

“Jayde?”

“Oh my god! Hayden! Hayden! Listen, we found Galen! He’s alive. What? No? He’s pretty fucked up. Relax. No, listen, relax. We’ve got, like the god of healing, remember? Okay, fine. Don’t worry, I won’t let anything get him.” Jayde rolled her eyes. “Man, kid, she was freaking out when she found out you were at the fort. Bad luck that.”

“Huh?”

Things were moving too fast.

This was turning into a much better death fantasy compared to how it had started.

The archer hovered away from him.

The man struggled against his own armor for a moment before falling limp.

“Yo, metal god—”

“Please stop calling me that,” the man said.

Galen took the sight of him in.

He couldn’t pick anything out what with the futuristic-looking full body armor aside from a brown-skinned face of around 30 year’s of age.

Handsome.

Like a seven out of ten.

Jayde and the other woman wore similar flat gray armor, thought the former’s was decorated with many random paintings. From the quality he’d guess they had been done by young kids.

The latter rushed to his side and pulled his helmet off before placing a hand on his sweat-drenched hair.

Instant relief.

“Uh oh…”

“That don’t sound so good,” Jayde said.

“He’s got a few worms.”

Galen panicked.

“Relax, kid. I’ll take care of them.”

Yes, please!

“Um, not to be ungrateful, but how exactly?”

“Magic.”

“Yeah, I guessed that, but—”

“Shush, you,” Jayde said.

“I’m using magic to temporarily supercharge your body, giving it the strength to destroy the parasites. I’m also helping with that.”

“Um… okay. Thank you.”

“What happened here? The Bat People’s alert was lacking details,” the man said.

Galen relayed what he could remember.

By the time he finished the woman pronounced him healed and worm free.

He stood, bounced up and down.

No pain, no fatigue.

He was as fresh as if he had just woken up from a long sleep.

It was only then that he noticed there were other people entering the cavern.

Strange people.

Inhuman people.

Small, short, wearing weird, futuristic looking armor.

Some were sleek with many spindly, tool-bearing arms emerging from a dome-like pack on their backs.

Some were bigger, bulkier, bearing what looked like a minigun mounted on one shoulder.

“Designation: Remy Cruces,” one of them approached, “proceeding to deploy parasite worm countermeasures.” This one’s armor was unique from the others with what looked like speakers on the limbs and torso.

“Okay, thanks, Frequency. Once you’ve got the automatic stuff set up here, fall back to the entrance. Continue to map the mountain and surrounding area. We need to find out if they’ve managed to drill other tunnels closer to the surface.”

“Acknowledged.”

Galen had heard the stories, but it was the first time he was in the presence of actual Threnosh.

Weapons and armor made from their super metal were among the most prized possessions of the Golden Eagles.

They were only brought out for the most dire situations and placed in the hands of the best fighters.

“Alright, I’m going down,” Remy Cruces said. “You guys head back outside and help.”

“Yo, bro. What happened to don’t split the party?” Jayde said.

“Too many monsters and a lot of them are powerful out there. We need to hold the fort or we’re going to have to bring all the wounded down here with the Bat People. I can handle a worm incursion by myself.” He sighed. “I hate caves.”

Jayde shrugged.

“Whatever, you’re the underground expert. All hail the metal god!” She bowed theatrically. “C’mon, kid. Hayden’s been pissing her panties thinking you were dead or worm-brained.”

“Um… what’s happening…” he let her lead him by the hand like he was a little kid again.

The other woman shared an intimate moment with Remy Cruces.

“That’s his wife. Some kind of crazy healing class. They spent like a couple of years on another world leading a mole people rebellion against those Stone Lords bastards. Yup, years deep underground. Let me tell you, if I had gone through that no way I’d willing go into caves and shit. Anyways, don’t worry about him.”

Galen looked back.

Remy Cruces jumped into the hole.

Mrs. Cruces watched for a moment before heading back to the same tunnel they entered.

All the while, those Threnosh alien guys set up a bunch of speaker-looking things around the hole and all over the cavern.

“So, level up?” Jayde said.

“I… uh…” Galen hadn’t noticed in the middle of the life and death struggle and all the pain. “Yeah…”

Multiple levels in fact.

“Well, that’s just great! Lots of monsters outside! More opportunities! Yay!”