The faint glow of the gauntlets caught Henry’s eye, embedded in the crumbling wall like a relic forgotten by time. They shimmered faintly, their surface etched with ancient runes cascading in spirals that pulsed with a rhythmic, otherworldly light. His heart leaped as recognition struck—these weren’t just any gauntlets. They were a piece of Zayiera’s armor, the legendary set whispered about the dwarves. He lunged forward, his focus narrowing to the artifact before him.
“Henry, you delicious little chaos magnet!” Elara’s voice sliced through the air, a singsong lilt tinged with unhinged glee. She darted closer, wings trailing flickers of light like a mad comet. “Oh, I can taste the disaster brewing—spicy, with a hint of doom! Did you even read those runes? Of course not. Who needs survival instincts when you’ve got whatever this is!”
Before her words could sink in, the chamber quivered, the hum of the gauntlets crescendoing into a deafening roar as Henry’s fingers brushed their surface. The runes flared, light erupting like molten fire spilling from a crack in the world.
“Yes, yes, YES!” Elara howled, spinning in manic loops. “Summon the dark squishy! Let it out! Let it feast on your regrets!” Her laughter echoed wildly, a mix of exhilaration and dread.
The viscous darkness oozed from the walls, pooling like ink before twisting upward into a hideous shape. It was a hulking mass of human organs—writhing intestines, pulsating hearts, swollen lungs, and glistening kidneys—all strung together in a grotesque tapestry. Veins snaked between them like cords, and blood dripped in thick rivulets from the quivering mass. A ribcage jutted from its center, housing what looked like a grotesque, oversized heart that beat with a sickening rhythm.
The creature moved faster than Henry expected, its bulk lurching forward with unnatural agility. A whip-like tendril of intestines lashed out, forcing him to dive to the side. He hit the cold stone floor hard, the air knocked from his lungs.
A cluster of rib bones smashed into the ground where he had been, shattering stone and sending jagged shards flying. Dust and debris filled the air, stinging his eyes and throat.
“Look at it go!” Elara cheered, perched on a nearby ledge like a gleeful spectator. “A real work of art, isn’t it? All that squelchy determination!”
Henry scrambled to his feet, the Wand of Arraiza already in his hand. It pulsed, almost alive, drawing faint strands of mist from the air around them. He pointed it at the guardian, willing the wand to siphon its strength, to unravel the grotesque web of pulsing organs and veins.
The mist swirled and coalesced, but the guardian barely flinched. Its central heart throbbed violently, spraying dark ichor as veins snaked outward to anchor it more firmly to the ground. Clusters of lungs wheezed with unsettling rhythm, their hollow breaths filling the cavern. The mass of intestines lashed out like whips, forcing Henry to step back.
Elara darted to his side, her voice a gleeful hiss near his ear. “Oh, it’s perfect! Disgusting, unstoppable, and it hates you already! But brute force? Bad move, champ. It’s feeding on your panic!”
But fear clung to Henry like a second skin as the guardian advanced, dragging its grotesque bulk closer. The Wand of Arraiza trembled in his grasp, its hunger palpable as he tightened his grip. The guardian loomed over him, a writhing mass of organs, each movement accompanied by a wet, squelching sound.
The gauntlets in his other hand felt heavier, their dormant power tantalizingly close yet maddeningly unreachable. He had to act, but his options were dwindling.
“Fine,” he muttered, lifting the Wand with a shaky hand. “You want chaos? I’ll give you chaos.”
Henry screamed, pouring his will into the Wand. It flared to life, and from the swirling mist, twisted infant-like creatures began to crawl into existence. Their malformed bodies were unnervingly human, with oversized heads, stubby arms, and bloated bellies. Milky, lidless eyes stared blankly, and their toothless mouths emitted high-pitched, keening cries that echoed eerily through the cavern.
The abominations moved with jerky, unnatural motions, dragging themselves across the ground on malformed limbs. They swarmed toward the guardian, their shrill cries growing louder as they latched onto its writhing form. Tiny hands clawed at the tangled intestines and quivering hearts, their shrieks harmonizing into a haunting, discordant wail.
The guardian staggered, its grotesque mass of organs recoiling as the baby-like creatures crawled up its torso. They gnawed with tiny, sharp teeth, tearing at the slick sinews binding the pulsating hearts to its body. Veins thrashed like tentacles, trying to dislodge them, but the abominations clung with terrifying tenacity.
“Look at them go!” Elara shouted, her tone both gleeful and horrified. She zipped erratically around the room, a blur of frantic energy. “Oh, I love this spell—it’s like a daycare from the deepest, darkest pits of no thank you! But you might want to hurry, Henry. This thing isn’t exactly losing its appetite!”
The guardian’s rib-like arms swung down with devastating force, crushing several of the infant-like creatures in wet, splattering bursts. Misty residue sprayed the ground as the broken forms dissolved, but more abominations clambered over their fallen kin, shrieking as they bit and clawed at the grotesque mass of organs.
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Henry funneled more energy into the Wand, the mist swirling thicker around him as he willed it to form a second wave. This time, eyeless bats emerged, their skeletal wings flapping with unnatural speed. They launched into the air with piercing screeches, swarming toward the guardian’s heaving torso. Their claws raked at the quivering lungs and bloated hearts, tearing away chunks of flesh that dissolved into black vapor.
The guardian let out a voiceless roar, a pulsing shockwave that rippled through the cavern. Henry was knocked off his feet, the force slamming him into the cold stone floor. His ears rang as he struggled to sit up, his vision blurring from the impact.
The guardian’s hulking form straightened, battered but unyielding. Its oversized heart throbbed faster, veins thickening as it anchored itself more firmly to the ground. It moved slower now, but its grotesque presence loomed larger, suffocating the air with its unnatural weight.
“Henry, you can’t just keep throwing babies and bats at it!” Elara zipped to his side, her glowing form flickering as she hovered in front of his face. “Not that I don’t love the chaos—it’s chef’s kiss—but this thing is just soaking it up! Think harder, because this daycare’s about to close for good!”
Henry gritted his teeth, gripping the Wand tighter as he pulled in more mist, a desperate plan forming in his mind. The swirling energy around him thickened, charged with a dangerous intensity as he steeled himself for one final push.
“No more distractions,” Henry muttered, his voice steady despite the pounding of his heart. “Let’s finish this.”
The Wand of Arraiza hummed in Henry’s hand, its power vibrating with barely-contained energy. His breath came in ragged gasps as he pulled on the mist again, forcing his focus to coalesce the chaotic swirl of magic. This time, he wasn’t aiming for numbers—he was aiming for strength.
The mist thickened, darkening the air until it felt as if the cavern itself held its breath. From the haze emerged the Legion Monster, a towering amalgamation of writhing bodies and clawing arms. Its twisted form pulsed with unnatural life, its surface shifting as the abominations it was composed of crawled and twisted against one another, constantly reshaping.
The cavern trembled as the Legion Monster charged the guardian. The guardian’s grotesque form—a skeletal frame draped in pulsing organs—reacted with eerie calm. Veins snaked from its massive, still-beating heart, anchoring it to the ground and bracing against the impact. Lungs wheezed, inflating and deflating erratically, while intestines coiled and writhed like sentient ropes. The collision sent a wet, sickening sound reverberating through the chamber.
Henry watched in horror as the guardian’s ribcage cracked but held firm, the exposed bones acting like a cage to shield the quivering organs within. The Legion Monster tore at it, clawing at the thick, rope-like veins and swollen organs, but the guardian retaliated in its horrifying, silent way. Intestines lashed outward, coiling around the abominations and dragging them into its grotesque core, where they dissolved into mist.
The Legion Monster struck again, slamming a massive limb into the guardian’s heart, causing a spray of thick black ichor to erupt across the cavern floor. The guardian faltered, its skeletal frame swaying, but its regeneration was relentless. The ruptured heart pulsed once more, knitting itself back together as veins re-anchored it to the ground.
“Of course it regenerates,” Henry muttered, frustration mounting. He tightened his grip on the Wand, the pulsating energy in his hand resonating with his desperation.
Elara zipped above the battle, her small, glowing form darting like an erratic firefly. “Oh, this thing is gross—and I mean that as a compliment! You can’t brute-force this sack of squishy horrors, Henry! Use that brain of yours before we’re both part of his smelly, sweaty soup!”
Grinding his teeth, Henry funneled more energy into the Wand, summoning another creature. This time, the mist coalesced into a strange, undulating mass of green slime. It slithered forward, its corrosive surface hissing against the stone floor. The slime latched onto the guardian’s skeletal leg, spreading across the bone and organs like a living acid. Henry didn't remember gaining this summon, but he didn't have time to question it.
The guardian shuddered, its movements jerky as the slime ate away at the sinews binding its frame. Its many lungs heaved, forcing a gurgling sound through its hollow ribcage as it thrashed violently. Black ichor bubbled where the slime clung, eating deeper into its grotesque body.
But the guardian began to adapt. Its ribs stretched unnaturally, twisting outward like bony scythes. They swept through the Legion Monster’s writhing limbs, slicing through bodies with surgical precision. Mist erupted from the severed forms as the abominations dissolved into nothingness.
Henry stumbled back, his breathing ragged as he watched the slime bubble away more of the guardian’s flesh. Yet its regeneration continued, slow but unyielding, as though every wound only delayed the inevitable.
“Elara!” Henry called out, his voice breaking with urgency. “We need to bring it down—literally. Can you draw it toward the center of the cavern? Beneath the ledge?”
"4-10!" Elara buzzed closer to the guardian’s head, her small form a blur of light against its massive shadow. “What’s wrong, ugly? Too slow?” she jeered, her tone taunting and high-pitched. “Bet you couldn’t hit a fly if your life depended on it!”
The guardian swiped at her with a massive, spiked limb, the movement so fast it stirred the air like a gale. Elara darted out of reach at the last second, her laugh echoing as she spiraled upward. “Missed me! You’ll have to try harder than that!”
Henry could only watch in awe as Elara’s erratic maneuvers kept the guardian distracted, her sharp wit and unrelenting confidence cutting through his own mounting fear. Her bravery—or sheer insanity—bought him a precious few seconds to regroup.
“All right,” he whispered to himself, forcing down his panic. “One more push. Let’s finish this.”
But, suddenly, the guardian’s massive form turned around, its skeletal frame shifting unnaturally, organs pulsing and wheezing with grotesque vitality. Henry scrambled backward, his breath ragged, his muscles screaming in protest. But he wasn’t fast enough. One of the guardian’s rib-like extensions, jagged and sharp, slashed outward, catching his side with terrifying precision.
Pain erupted through him, sharp and burning, and the force knocked him to the ground. Henry clutched at his ribs, his fingers pressing against warm, sticky blood soaking through his shirt. The cavern seemed to tilt as his vision blurred, the grotesque form of the guardian looming like a nightmare at the edges of his failing focus.