5 - A scuffle then!_The floors to Chaos

…A response!

Something sentient was really there, really talking. Maybe you were still sane after all, just a bit at least.

And a compliment as well, that, well, it was a bit hard not to blush at that, even in a situation like this.

However, the advice you got… well, you didn’t like it to say the least. The fleshy terror just behind the door was terrifying enough to look at, much less fight.

It’s true though, this sort of thing would likely happen eventually, and being better prepared for it was the right call. You might not get a chance to hone yourself in such a good situation in the future. Not only knowing your opponent, but an injured one as well…

Alright, here goes nothing!

Bracing yourself against the now busted-up wood, you give yourself a countdown of three seconds.

Three.

Two.

One.

You hesitate for a moment, but only for a moment, pushing inside into the slightly dark room, this time observing the ceiling first thing.

Scanning the area, there doesn’t seem to be those peach-colored eyes you saw earlier.

It shouldn’t be intelligent enough to hide them, unless-

Sweat that was coagulating on the back of your neck, for a moment, trickles forward, past your cheek. The quick acceleration of something coming from behind, the power in the thing launching at you blew it away with the pungent, previously stagnant air.

That’s why you couldn’t find it, it was resting just above the door frame, ready for you. It isn’t smart, but it still has instincts.

You could feel it. This thing was about to kill you. It was going to kill you and there was nothing you could do about it.

By the time you are twisting around to greet it with your blade, you can already feel the mandibles closing around your neck, bags of flesh with enough strength to crush a limb. It felt like solidified lard, and from it dripped a horrific substance that made your clothes sizzle upon impact.

It was calming, almost. Knowing your demise, seeing it happen in slow motion, and getting the comfort of an eventual release.

No, it can’t happen like this. I don’t want to be eaten by this thing!

Almost calming, that is.

Not yet, not ye-

[https://i.ibb.co/wc4hR5d/Luck.jpg]

A tremor.

A tremor shook you just a tiny bit.

On such unsure footing, it was no wonder that the sole of your shoe accidentally came into contact with a similarly shaking pebble.

Just like that, you slip.

Perfectly slip. As if it were fated to happen.

The gap of the mandibles closing in is just enough that you manage to avoid the vice grip, landing flat on your back as it sails overhead. The creature, not expecting a dodge at the last minute, makes a landing that one might expect, the clacking of its ‘mandibles’ sounding more like clapping with all the skin on them.

Not one to ignore such good timing, you manage to get up off the ground as it too rises to your feet, allowing you to take it in in all its eldritch horror glory.

Thirteen eyes in total, all over the carapace consisting of human epidermis, while having nine arachnid legs ending in dagger shaped points. Rolls of fat tumble up and down its six foot tall frame, over eight feet wide in uneven girth. Its many organs were visible within near translucent skin, the lungs working overtime as it heaved, yellow sweat tumbling down the nightmarish visage. Two spidelike mandibles, caked in the same stuff making up its hide, clacked together once more.

It rubbed them, producing that same acidic substance.

If only you had the time to recoil in disgust.

Pile of flesh made manifest, the screeching battle cry it gurgles signals its second charge, taking a hard swing towards your recently steadied self.

Taking a jumping start, the chain shirt fails to protect you as you are impaled by one of the legs. Grime alone would probably do something, given enough time, yet it sinking into your flesh is immediate.

You gasp for air.

It hurts! It hurts so bad!

Your vision swims with black dots for a moment, still recovering from both the physical and mental trauma. Whatever it hit wasn’t vital, but only just barely. Nerves flared from the abuse endured.

Stars have aligned, thankfully, that merely backing up a bit in shock causes it to slip out, not leaving you pinned along with impaled.

Summon as much force as you can muster, you bring it down upon the creature.

It sinks in, but fails to pierce.

What?!

Blubber, it seems, is a valid natural defence after all.

Being repelled by your own attack, you are able to see what might just barely be allowed to be called spinnerets molding something.

Something that is flung a mere mili-second later.

You find yourself caked in strange, yellow strands, hugging tightly to your body and refusing to allow movement. A simple flex is not enough to break it.

It looks, clacking the mandibles again as it advances slowly.

Fuck! Come on come on!

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Straining your muscles, you push your body to its limits. A hungry gaze rests upon you as your armor rattles. Faster and faster you struggle, the hissing of the thing’s fluid ringing in your ears.

Give. Me. A. BREAK!

With a snap, the yet to harden material yields under the pressure of your might!

...as well as the armor around your waste to the creature’s maw.

Acid burns against your flesh, veins in your eyes hot red from the pure searing agony. Welts form from the pressure and are melted off as you gasp for air, lungs squeezed by the mass.

A normal person would die from this.

[https://i.ibb.co/FK8Y8Q8/Melee.jpg]

You aren’t a normal person.

Not. YET!

In a two handed grip, blade downward, you attempt to pierce the globulant arachnid’s head.

Sinking, just like the first time, like you pressed down on an already partially deflated balloon. It’s eyes sort of move around along with the malformation. The false sweat licks the rust of the blade, almost sort of cleaning it.

NOT. YET!

You press harder.

Nothing.

Your insides churn, your knees buckle, chains pop from the shirt, and nothing has hurt more in your life.

You black out for a moment.

Then the adrenaline kicks.

I SAID NOT FUCKING YET!

Screaming like a valkyrie, it plunges forth, straight into the brain stem. A horrid recital of crying and wailing ushers from the thing.

Jostling and sudden jerks wave you around, but your grip is that of a parent protecting a child. Nothing, not even death would be able to stop you as you twist it in its vital point.

Paralysis, shaking, seizure, paralysis. You hit the rock head-first a few times.

But that won’t stop you.

In its last death throws, spittle churns and launches from its mouth, only in a completely different direction. And, for the last time, it lies down, irises glossed over in its demise.

I… I did it! I fucking did it!

You would be cheering, if it weren’t for the fact that everything hurt. Maybe a crushed rib, some chemical burns, and a concussion, but at least you did it.

However, rattling around your chain shirt, you soon realize it will no longer offer the quality of protection it once had.

Heaving, you almost have to make a stirring motion with the blade to get it out. You manage to, eventually, a nice thick glop sounds as you do so, falling back onto the ground. Though it may be cleaner, it’s now worse for wear. It might not last much longer.

Man… I should be dead right now.

“Ha. Hahaha. Ahhh.”

Gritting through the pain, you still manage to find the ability to laugh despite yourself. Flirting with death was not a pleasure, not at all.

About five or so minutes pass before you manage to stand up, any of the dangerous fluid having run its course as you look around the dark room.

“At the very least, I might get something out of this.”

A tremor passes once more as you walk up to the chest, though moderately more powerful than the last many have been. Still, it doesn’t stop you from trying to open it.

Rubbing your hands together, you grab just beneath the lip and hoist it up-

And find it to be locked. “Darn.”

Taking out the keyring, you first try the key in the best condition, and yet it fails to turn. It seems that it didn’t go here.

Though it was unlikely, you pull out one of the rusted keys, sticking it in and turning.

*SNAP*

Well, a mixed bag of results.

For one thing, it worked, having unlocked the chest. For another, it snapped of entirely, no longer functioning as a key or remotely anything useful. Sighing, you toss it behind you, letting it clink against the rocky floor behind as you lift the lid.

It creaks as you would expect. What you didn’t expect was having to shield your eyes from the light reflecting off the bright surface. It wasn’t that bright, considering the original source, but your eyes had adjusted and it wasn’t expected.

A shield, moderately sized, more specifically of what you recalled to be of the heater shield variety. Heater shields are a catch all type of shield, good at everything but not excelling at any given task.

Excelling much more than your armor in protection, likely. The shield also almost seemed brand new, its condition fantastic, and made of a hearty metal. Carvings and designs are sprinkled all about its exterior, leaving no wonder as to why it was the only thing in here left inside a chest.

Picking it up, you instinctively feel that you know how to use it. In fact, you might have used it before. Things were hard to tell, given the current situation.

Now that you actually had time to search the current room, there’s no reason not to.

Scavenging away!

Turns out, though the containers themselves might be in total disrepair, the goods they previously held are not always the same. Some preserved rations tucked away near a corner, enough for a decent meal, caught your eye.

That’s not the only thing. A small, leather coin purse contained a variety of different variations of currency. From what you could tell, there was thirteen copper, seven silver, and one and a half gold held within. Purse was a rather vague term, this one seeming to be on the larger side and maybe only three fourths full, able to carry a decent sum more.

Scattered about appeared to be both shattered and intact vials and rotted alchemy supplies. Unless told to otherwise interact with it, you’ll leave this here, since you can’t, at least personally, see a reason to use this.

“AHA!”

Catching it, just barely, in your vision, you spot the familiar wrappings around a stick. Telltale signs of a torch! A way to light up the path for once!

You lean against the wall and begin to organize your stuff, either too caught up to cringe at the stench or your body simply turning off your sense of smell as a natural self-defense. The shield you recently got seems to wrap around your arm and has a thin grip, not allowing you to wield another broadsword-sized weapon effectively, but still enabling you to grab a torch or similar object. That is, if you decide to equip it.

Another tremor of similar power to the last resounds, seeming to remind you about how hungry you are, and how dry your mouth is with thirst. You have food, but should you take the time to eat, or maybe move somewhere else? And where would you get water?

5 - A scuffle then!

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