My current frailty was still sometimes hard to come to terms with. When you had the power to shred a house to nothing, or plunge a town into faux nighttime, something like the common cold didn’t even come near you. While my ancestry allowed me slight reprieve from the weaker maladies that could plague mortals, I was still just a sniff away from something becoming perilous. Whether that should wrack my nerves or excite me, I was not sure, and did not care to prod about in such dangerous thought lest they became realities.

The foul water surrounding me had soaked through my boots by this point, as I stumbled about the filth. My resolve had faulted somewhat in seeing just what this creature was becoming. A true monster, unlike anything I had seen before. Although in some ways it was similar to the Eldritch horror we had fought in the Monastery, there was something more grounded in reality about this oversized grub.

Of course, is saying this, the way in which it was now splitting apart as if intending to turn itself inside-out was anything but normal. As the gash ran further from its middle up to its head on down to its tail end, even more arms soaked in the black ichor began to stretch out and even more eyes peered out from the gloom towards me.

In some ways, it was overwhelming, and I found myself clenching my teeth to focus and will myself forward. The monster seemed immobile currently, so my advantage would be to attack it at the full extent of the range I was capable of and move away when it seemed to try to strike back.

I took two steps forward to slash my blade through the air, bright crimson lighting up chambers through the thick odor around us. I caught one of the extended hands and so would it from the wrist, the inert hand now dropping into the fetid water around us. The follow-up swing and uppercut also rent some fingers from a further grasping appendage, spraying foul blood across the water.

The shin deep muck around us made it difficult for me to maneuver backwards and as I lept to avoid the return attack, it slowed me in my movement. There were dark marks across my arm where the dirty nails scratched my skin, leaving charred black marks on some of the crimson scratches. I flourished my blade around to sever the offending arm but the wound felt poisoned or some other kind of lethargy had started to settle in.

Pain suddenly flared up my back into places with a jolt as a green light briefly lit the pit we were in. I turned my eyes to look back to where Jakob and Florence were at the mouth of the passageway with glazed over eyes. My eyes glared bright red. “Wrong target,” I growled.

The Ranger shook his head and seemed to realize what happened. I didn’t have time to fully dissect or explain how I just broken the mind control. In truth, I wasn’t entirely sure that I was capable of doing what I just had. A proper vampire ability — to command people.

“Looks like we're going to have unwanted company here soon,” Angelos called from behind them. “I can hear the sounds of lots of footsteps down the tunnels.”

Just what we needed. The creature had called down all of those it held under its thrall to come waylay us — or perhaps just to eat them now that it had hatched. I wasn’t too interested in finding out what its true form might be. Again, we had stumbled upon something in the midst of becoming a monster way beyond the capability, and yet still required to end it. A pulse of energy flowing through me as Angelos sent a heal over.

While it helped with the aching pains in my back where I had two arrows protruding, the lethargy I felt hadn’t abated. I was lucky enough that the Ranger’s shots hadn’t pierced my lungs or anything mortally important and I was just left with awkward agony as I tried to swing my sword about.

Fire burst into a wall across the side of the monster, hissing as the magical energy fought against the unstable footing of the waterlogged floor. The enormous creature screamed out in rage as the yellowed skin curled and blackened under the heat of the blaze - the bright eyes within the cacoon widening and trying to seek escape.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Only then did it truly move.

Like some kind of beetle, it rolled out of the pale shell of soft skin and to the side to avoid the constant assault of the Fire Wall. The other side of it was also a mass of arms and eyes, like an odd bulbous centipede. It had no maw that I could see - so the threats against me were just whatever damage the hands could inflict - possibly drowning if it got atop me.

The abomination rolled slightly, its many eyes trying to gauge how best to assail us. I was blocking the pathway to my companions - as was my role - and any attempt to get past me would be detrimental to its being.

I hate you, meddling insects.

The voice scratched away, but it was different now. Unprepared. What had once been a safe nesting ground had now turned into a pit where it was cornered. Forced to be reborn too soon, it was now half-formed muck instead of the desired form. A cornered creature was dangerous, unless it had given up all hope.

I waited, as the pair behind me sent out ranged attacks that the monster was unable to avoid. My feet planted in place as I watched it squirm. Half to maintain my defensive position, and half because the lethargy was making it hard to move much. Or think, really. The muck I stood in didn’t look especially comfortable - but perhaps it would be nice and warm.

Yelling voices snapped me out of the daze as villagers, angered at our intrusion into this unholy place, sought to demand retribution against us. It angered me to think they may fall to our blades. That madness gave a little life back into my sluggish limbs.

The gray dome popped up, blocking the tunnel and keeping the Guardian separated from the rest of us - but not allowing any of the mind controlled to interfere. It meant no healing, but the buzz of gray from the tunnel entrance told me he had at least enchanted the Ranger’s bow.

It was now, with the lifeline of potential assailants thwarted, that the creature chose to move. Rearing back on dozens of arms, it then launched toward me. Crimson arced through the air, and then darkness.

Muffled voices. The thrum of a heartbeat. Warmth surrounding me - perhaps now was the best time to sleep. Pain trickled down my back, keeping me awake. A weight of something pressing down on the lodged arrows. It fueled adrenaline, created a spark within this - oh.

That was it, wasn’t it? My sword had cut through the malformed monster and made a little pocket for me to slip into. It squished me up between ichor soaked faux organs and the hideous musculature that enabled the thing to move. My sword was… my arms were pressed down, but my right hand still gripped the handle tightly.

Not the worst place I’d ever been. Also not one I wanted to be any moment longer.

I couldn’t really tell what was going on with the monster. It didn’t appear to be dead, given the way the fleshy sacs pressed against me undulated. Yet it also didn’t appear capable or willing to move away from me. Perhaps in the incomplete form, it just didn’t have the necessary strength to take much damage.

There were flashes of warmth from outside. The rest of the Party were probably saying things, but all I wanted to do was… no, not sleep. I tensed my muscles and pushed against the weight surrounding me. Grunted as the slick meaty parts slowly yielded against my push - and then began to tear. Slowly I was able to raise the tip of my sword from the fetid pool and carve upwards, inch by inch. Blood and other less savory liquids ran down my arm and splashed in the murky water around my feet.

I hated having wet feet.

My offhand met the hilt of the greatsword and between both arms I was able to power the sharp edge through the softer insides of the creature until - with the weapon almost fully raised - I pierced through the top.

Splitting with a hideous sucking noise, the monster ripped itself in half under its own weight. Brief light and cooler air flooding my bloodshot eyes as the two parts sunk, deflated into the muck. I turned my head to look behind me, a blur fading as I saw Florence with her sword aflame and Jakob with his dagger out. The pair were clearly in the process of hacking away at the errant arms to try to save me.

“Any of you assholes still want your brain removing from your thick skulls?” The Guardian shouted out down the tunnel, the light of his dome only just visible from the chamber.

I closed my eyes and waited for the response, the trickles of ichor running down my body. Even with the promise of dry land, it felt an impossible mission to move my legs. Whatever the beast had poisoned me with, I could feel the wound bubbling and burning away across my arm - despite the healing received.

“Are you okay, Victor?” Florence took a step toward me, but didn’t seem keen to get herself even more sodden from the foul liquid.

“I regret everything,” I smiled. “Yet we have so far to go.”