Short Story

Shit.

Shit shit shit!

Tod broke through the branches of a tree, stumbled, and crashed to the dirt. His new black leather armor absorbed the impact, which also meant there was no pain.

But that wouldn’t last, not with an army of purple-red Cherry Booms giving chase. They were deviously cute fruit with only one thing on their mind, and it was disgusting.

They wanted to blow their load.

That thought had him back on his feet a second later—a worthless dagger sheathed at his waist—scampering through the thicket, his mind teetering between blind panic and murder.

He was going to kill Virgil, commit manslaughter in the first degree! Sarah had specifically instructed them to lure two or three of the volatile monsters at a time, not the entire pack!

But Virgil—being the absolute shit stain he was—had decided entirely on his own that such a strategy would take too long. He also failed to communicate this with actual words.

He shoved Tod out where the Cherry Booms were doing their naked dance around a large crystal master chest, one that Apology Twelve promised would have the bestest loot.

The boomers had stopped chanting and wiggling their fruity parts long enough to stare at the unintentional participant for two whole seconds before all hell broke loose.

And this wasn’t even the first time!

When they fought the Shining Stars, Virgil aggroed one to blast a fiery sunbeam right at Tod’s face while he was yawning. Hurt like a bitch, but admittedly, it worked better than coffee.

When they fought the Rock Hops, Virgil . . . somehow . . . got the largest one to stomp on Tod’s toes before he had armor, then hooted with laughter while he jumped around on one foot.

Maybe the jury would dismiss those as harmless pranks given the new ability for rapid healing, but this was now life and death. His whole body knew it, which triggered his selfish but understandable need for self-preservation, and not for the first time that day.

Tod crossed a familiar tree. The designated clearing was ahead. That shouldn’t have made a difference—the plan had changed—but that was the only command cycling in his brain.

Get to the clearing.

The clearing is safe.

Shit shit shit!

He ran across the dirt and grass, then jumped for a bald branch, swinging his legs up and anchoring his ankles.

“Help!” he yelled, knowing the only person nearby was Sarah, the girl who had already saved him twice: once at the stairs—watching her ascend convinced him to do the same—and once against the poisonous mushrooms.

Thinking about either was not an option.

The Cherry Booms flooded in behind him, making all sorts of odd, high-pitched barking noises. They bounced on their tiny toes a good four feet below him, obviously close enough to hurt him real bad but somehow not close enough to trigger their happy switch.

That was a good thing.

A sound came from the side. Sarah appeared, and he mentally sighed. She was a stockier woman with pretty brown hair and eyes, eyes that held a justified annoyed expression.

Hell, he was annoyed too! It was just hiding under a thick layer of fear. If they survived this, Virgil was getting a swift kick out of their party.

She didn’t hesitate. Her bone club whooshed through the air and slammed against one of the Cherry Booms. It died instantly, disintegrating into hundreds of silvery-white flakes that scattered across the others.

This got their undivided attention and pegged her as public enemy number one. Luckily, this also meant they weren’t focused on Tod.

It was his chance.

While one of the Cherry Booms closest to Sarah had started to flash and whistle rainbow-looking musical notes, he dropped down and ran in the opposite direction.

Pop pop pop pop! It was a series of loud cherry-scented pink explosions, the tail end of which caught his side, slamming him against a sturdy tree for 18 damage in white, dropping his armor to 3/24.

He was running before he knew it. Cherry Booms duplicated upon death. The area would be infested with them, around every tree, waiting for the unlucky adventurer to step in the wrong place.

He should check on Sarah, make sure she was okay. She had now saved his life three times. And yet . . . and yet . . . he was running away.

Shit. That was him, through and through. A shit person to the extreme. No further debate needed.

But it was the most logical thing to do! People didn’t run toward danger; they ran away from it. Besides, Sarah might not have survived. Going back would be stupid.

He wasn’t stupid.

And he hadn’t broken any laws.

There was no reason to feel so conflicted about this. She’d have done the same thing. Only . . . she hadn’t. She risked her life again for him.

Tod slowed his steps, panting hard. A quick glance behind revealed a blur dashing toward him. He screamed a glass-breaking falsetto, which did nothing to deter the . . . fluffy rabbit?

He choked on a nervous laugh as the creature frantically sped past him. Another and another appeared at the top of a steep incline of dirt and gnarled roots.

Their small paws thudded against the dirt, a sound that mixed well with his thudding heart, his breathing, the dance of wind through leaves, and something else . . .

A wet gurgling sound.

Orange water burst over the steep incline, gliding forward as a moving vertical wall. It sucked the life out of everything it touched!

Shit shit shit!

He spun on the spot and chased the rabbits, following their wise and erratic escape plan down twisting game trails. This eventually led to large boulders covered in lichen.

And by all the luck in the world, Sarah was there. She looked relieved and annoyed—that was fair—and every bit unconcerned about the wall of death that she obviously didn’t know about.

“We gotta go!” he yelled.

“Where were you?” she asked.

He waved a hand, dismissing the question. They didn’t have time for this, nor did he want to dig into the fact that he had abandoned her. “Hurry! Just go, and I’ll—”

The orange wall burst out from behind.

“End zone, end zone!” Apology Twelve said from above, revealing the obnoxious fact that Virgil was here, too. “Lose health out there. Lose health, dieee! Kill everything. Follow follow. Go to new zone, safe zone!”

Virgil jumped off the top boulder and landed in a squat, completely unfazed by the fall. He evidently got something nice from the master chest. “What’cha all waitin’ for, eh? Let’s get gone!”

Tod ground his teeth. His closing argument in the indefensible case against Virgil was practically writing itself. But this was not the courtroom nor time for such a proceeding.

Apology Twelve released a burst of shimmering purple dust to hang in the air. It illustrated a path to follow, which Tod did without complaint.

They ran and ran and ran some more. Monsters jerked at their sudden arrival and gave chase, only to fall back into the dangerous wall.

One started melting. . . .

“Oh shit!” he yelled and picked up his pace, taking the lead. Two minutes later, they escaped the forest’s edge, coming upon a rope bridge that crossed a wide ravine.

People were working their way across the bridge. Many were standing in groups beyond it, reminding him of what he had told Sarah, a stupid lie to save face against his fear of the mushroom monsters. He wasn’t even allergic!

It didn’t matter. Not now. Besides, Virgil’s recklessness made it less of a lie . . . after the fact. His deeds were far worse than a simple lie.

“Across bridge!” Apology Twelve shouted. “Final zone. Hurry hurry!”

Tod didn’t slow one bit. He led the way onto the bridge, stepping carefully but quickly on the wooden slats that were evenly spaced a foot apart above an endless gap in the world.

The ravine had no bottom.

He made it to the other side, whipped around, and watched, wide-eyed, unable to look away as the orange wall behind Sarah and Virgil ate through the ropes at the other end.

“You gotta hurry!” he yelled, knowing that there was no way in hell they’d make it.

The ropes snapped. People gasped and pointed at the two unfortunate souls still on the bridge.

Sarah and Virgil clung to the ropes. They swung across that bottomless void and crashed into the cliff’s wall. It made a racket, and splinters burst out and twirled into nothingness.

Then . . . it got worse!

Like a flip if a switch, the sun turned off, revealing enumerable red stars in a sky otherwise dominated by a bright silver moon. Monsters were coming. Not the deviously cute kind, the nasty, evil kind that haunted nightmares.

And Tod’s party was stuck below.

There was nothing he could do. Nothing that wouldn’t put him in more danger. The blocks of logic demanded that he hide. He didn’t want to; he had to! It was the only option to survive.

The people here had armor and weapons, standing in groups not far from each other. Didn’t they realize that together, they’d draw out more monsters?

He sprinted away in a random direction and crossed half a dozen trees before picking one with low enough branches to climb.

People were shouting.

Monsters screeched.

Tod clenched his jaw and clung to the thick branch, holding his inadequately smaller dagger in case the worst happened. He tried to silence his ragged breaths, desperate to not draw any attention.

He was a shit person, but being alone was the best decision, given the facts. That’s life. Everyone had to respond to reason and stimuli. Some people were just not cut out for change and hard decisions.

Yeah, that was it. It had nothing to do with honor or morals. The moment he woke in this world, standing in a garden-like place, balls-in-the-wind naked, it was a matter of survival.

And so what if he chased off his fairy with a stick? That little twerp had pointed at Tod’s nakedness and commented about his tiny pee-pee. This, as evidence would clearly demonstrate, just ain’t the way to forge a warm and trusting relationship.

Something crashed in the dirt below, yanking his mind out of pointless conjecture.

There was a shaky intake of breath. A young Asian woman, still wearing brown robes, had tripped and fallen to her hands and knees. Silvery-white light bled from her scrapes.

Tod wanted to yell down to her, to tell her to climb up where it was safe, but the words were frozen in his throat. Another person would only draw more attention!

She clawed at the ground, panicked movement attempting to gain a foothold and run from all the dangers in this world.

Dirt exploded from the ground.

Tod jerked, and the branch creaked.

The girl screamed and fell back as a large black chitin pincer snapped at where she had been, barely missing her.

It was everything he had feared: a monster from nightmares, a giant black spider with scorpion-like pincers, its legs as sharp as swords, its many eyes glowing yellow.

The girl screamed for help, shoving herself back, sliding away from the terrible creature pursuing her. She was sobbing, terrified as any normal person would be in such a situation.

There’s nothing I can do. . . .

There’s nothing I can do!

But that repeating thought summoned a list of everything he had done this strange day. His brain was desperate for order, for evaluation, for identifying the correct action to take because maybe—just maybe—it wasn’t so clear-cut.

He had convinced others to not ascend the stairs where the fairies wanted them to go. He convinced them it was all a trick. Those people died!

He drank the antidote instead of giving it to Sarah, who definitely needed it more than he did. And by luck alone, she didn’t die, no thanks to him.

He abandoned Sarah after she saved him from the Cherry Booms and abandoned her again at the cliffside. She was probably dead!

What was the value of a life that did not help others in their time of need? What was the value of surviving if it required sacrificing others?

The world needed more Sarahs . . .

And fewer Tods.

That was the conclusion, the closing argument, the unanimous verdict. And he didn’t even realize it had happened until he heard the angry, hollering voice that was his own.

Muscles shaking, fear clenching his stomach, his heart pounding in his ears, he dropped from the branch, dagger in hand.

Tod landed on the monster’s back and shoved the small blade into one of its glowing yellow eyes. It shrieked so loud that his own words were hard to hear. “G-go! Get out of here!”

The woman scurried to her feet, ran four steps, and turned back. Her face was conflicted in such a familiar way that it felt like they were connected in that infinitesimally brief moment.

Then . . . she was gone.

She might live because of Sarah.

The monster bucked, throwing him free. He crashed to the ground, rolled, and stopped next to another monster, this one larger.

It impaled him with one of its blade-like limbs, cutting straight through his remaining armor. Pain exploded in his chest. He drew in a raspy breath that felt too shallow.

This is it. . . . That thought cycled a dozen times a second as he watched his tightly gripped dagger slam against the monster’s underside in slow motion. A -5 in red slipped up into the night sky.

A pincer grabbed his throat and squeezed.

Shimmering white light oozed out of him for a split second before the world rushed past. Blue and silver textures blurred and shifted.

He reformed, hanging in the air naked above a vast and dark ocean. This was the Primordial Sea of Souls, where all things returned after death. A part of him hated this place. It burned in his veins as if wanting to escape.

Countless streams of light wriggled beneath the gentle waves, seemingly attached to forms of all shapes and sizes, down as far as he could see.

Whatever held him in the air slowly let him dip into the water. His toes touched first. Warmth seeped into his feet and legs, making the anguished part of him writhe while the rest of him succumbed to a sense of earned peace.

Fear did not exist here. Nor did all of his hate, self-loathing, or anything other than the warm wrap of acceptance. He had traveled far, experienced much, and would be cleansed of the corruption so he could live again.

Sound came from behind.

Words?

Yes, words: spoken, communicated, professional. They were the sounds of people working together.

He turned slowly, the world slipping away into a contented blur. Something like a ship cut through the water. A glowing golden line wrapped his chest, and the rest fell to unrecognizable sensations.

###

Tod opened his eyes.

The clear distinction of a sunlit reality fought the forms of what had to have been a dream. He was in a warm bed with soft covers, tucked into the corner of a small room.

Humming drew his attention to a young white woman sitting in a chair. She had the strangest shoulder-length green hair with little white flowers growing out of it. A pink display hovered above her lap.

He cleared his throat.

“Hah!” the woman said, looking over with a wide grin. “I think you set a record.” She turned the display and played a video of his last seconds of life. “Farthest head-pop distance ever!”

He grimaced at the sight of his head flying off his body and bouncing against trees like a pinball game. It was bizarre and a bit sickening how it looped over and over.

The video displayed names, and the few frames that captured the Asian girl he had saved revealed her name to be Niko. Sickening head-popping aside, it felt good knowing her name. He just hoped she didn’t run into some other monster and die.

“Wh-who are you?” he asked.

“Hmm? I’m Adus, and I am positively glad to have you on my team.”

“Your . . . what?”

“Oh! I’m such a dingus!” she said, then swiped her screen—making it disintegrate in the air—and stood. “Let’s get you out of bed, and I’ll explain all the things.”

She grabbed his hand and pulled him out from the sheets, then made an Mmm sound. “You’re naked.”

He cupped himself with both hands, his face suddenly warm as her eyes traced his shoulders, biceps, and abs before inching lower.

“Not bad,” she whispered and started undoing the buttons of her white frilly skirt.

“Hey!” he said, confused, alarmed, embarrassed, and every other misfiring signal his brain was trying to understand. “What are you doing?”

She stopped, her face a mixture of confusion and defiance. “Gameus always says I have to wear clothes at work. But if you’re not going to wear them—”

“I want to wear them!”

“You do?” she said, disappointment clear in her voice and the way she exhaled. “B-but I certainly don’t mind if you don’t mind. We can prance through your introduction naked. Sounds like the least boring option if you asked me!”

“I want clothes,” he said firmly.

She frowned, then shrugged and refastened her button. “You’ll find everything you need in there,” she said, pointing to a closet. “We were quite thorough in making this room. Can I at least watch?”

“No!”

“Fine fine. And here I thought we were off to a great start. Get dressed . . . if you must. I’ll be right outside the door.”

She left through a rounded wooden door. Actually, everything looked rounded: the walls, the windows, his bed. It had an organic look, as if the wood had grown into the shape it finally took.

The closet held every article of clothing he had ever owned, from when he was a fat kid to what he wore during his last day on Earth: a perfectly tailored blue two-piece suit.

After dressing, he stepped out into a living room. An open balcony on the far side overlooked a long stretch of land made of a single column of rectangles, each a different color.

“Hmm,” Adus said, sitting on a leather couch, her legs folded beneath her. “I guess clothes look nice on you, too. Oh! I keep forgetting what I’m supposed to say. Silly me. I’m not usually in charge of onboarding. At least not after that last incident, which I maintain was not my fault.”

She cleared her throat and motioned to the giant strip of land. “Welcome to Olindale!”

“But,” he said.

“Yes, I know, you didn’t win the contest. But you showed remarkable growth, a desire to do good, and you happen to have a certain skillset we’re in need of.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“You’re a lawyer, duh! Heaven has so- many- rules. It’s quite exhausting. I’m the type that breaks things. You’re the type that’s all organized and professional and . . . unfortunately . . . likes clothes. You and I, we’re different. That’s the point I’m making.”

“But,” he said.

“Yes, I know, you don’t know anything about the laws of heaven, the Ring, our society, etcetera, etcetera. Not to worry! Gameus has all- the- books. Like seriously. The man’s got a problem. He doesn’t even read them! Who buys books and doesn’t read them? Strange people, that’s who.

“Bah, sorry, off on a tangent again. Point is, we’ve got everything you need to learn. Sounds pretty great, huh? Oh, and the best part?” she added, not waiting for his reply. “We get to work together! Of course, duh, it’s your decision in the end. But who wouldn’t want to work with me, am I right?”

She beamed with a full-toothed smile. Even her little white flowers seemed to perk up.

Tod laughed. He didn’t deserve this. He was the shittiest of shit people. But he had done something good. Maybe that was all it took, a single deed to change his ultimate destination.

This only confirmed that today—as a matter of fact—had been a very strange day. And, as evidence would show, that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

He stepped onto the balcony and took in the surreal view, then glanced back. “Where do I start?”

Adus made excited, squeaky noises and started unbuttoning her blouse.

“Not that!”