Tuesday, August 14, 2012

Day Two-Sixty-Two: Enough Latin, let's punch stuff

I think I'd just slugged a spider in its fucking eyes. Is that right? Yeah, it is. Okay, let's keep going.

The spider squealed. This wasn't a human voice, now: this was a screaming, hideous, angry, confused and frightened thing, and for a few seconds the green in its eyes fizzled and faded, only to come back strong and green again as it rose from the floor.

"That," it hissed, "was a baaaaaaad -"

So I punched the fucker again. And kicked it. It told me to stop, and tried to jump me, but I really didn't give a shit. Moments later I'd stomped on its head. The green went out for good, and the spider hissed and flopped, its body vibrating under the power of the earthquake.

I ran past the corpse. Edmund followed me, despite being more scared of me than the now-dead spider. (I can tell. I know when people are afraid of me.) We ran down the main hall of the keep, Edmund pointing out falling debris, and I grunted as small stones tumbled down around my head.

There were more moat monsters waiting as we approached the library, slithering out of rooms and hissing or roaring or speaking to me, all in that disgustingly familiar voice. I attacked any of the bastards that came close, kicking crocodiles in the nose, smashing weirdly floating piranhas into walls and body checking giant snakes as they tried to heave up and wrap around me. It felt really good to crush the green out of their eyes.

The library was a ruin when we charged in. Half the roof had collapsed, destroying many of the shelves, and hundreds of books lay scattered and ripped amid the debris. Robert, precious, stupid-ass Robert was stumbling over the stones as best he could, shouting for help and trying to put his wasted collection back on its shelves.

I didn't bother asking him for permission. I waded into the library, caught him by the shoulder, and slugged him in the face. He went down immediately, and I slung him over my shoulder. Edmund grabbed his walking stick, and we ran out of the library through a growing hole in the walls. The rest of the ceiling caved in seconds later, burying what was left of Robert's library.

Thinking back, that collapse was a little too conveniently-timed. As if it was done to be dramatic or action-packed something. Meh, maybe it was just me.

More moat monsters appeared from around the sides of the castle and hurtled towards us, but they aren't so fast on land, so we had the upper hand. Minutes and a lot of rock-jumping later, we were in front of the keep again, running towards the dragon. It looked panicked and urged us on with its front claws, possibly because those wussy-ass nobles were pissing their breaches all over its back.

Gah. I have to stop talking about piss. It keeps reminding me of Dragomir.

I threw Robert, unconscious, on the dragon's back. Edmund followed the old man up and made sure he was sitting square in his seat. Then the dragon motioned for me to follow.

I didn't. I ran back towards the keep. There was still someone else to save in there, even if it meant running all the way back to that fucking hole, down all those ramps, beating up the royal guards at the bottom, and dragging his stinky ass back with me. Even if all I was bringing back was a dead body.

Barrel didn't give me that option. Before I could get five feet away from him the scaly bastard had one of his massive claws wrapped around me, pinning my arms and legs. I screamed and tried to bite him, calling him a fucking coward for leaving my husband behind, telling him to let me go help him, but Barrel shook his head.

He took off, holding me securely in place. I'm pretty sure that's when I started to cry.

Barrel took us all up and away, far from the keep, and as I struggled to look back I'm pretty sure I saw the king's tower collapse. I didn't really give a shit about that, and I still don't. As far as I know, this is all Jeffrey's fault. Him and that penguin. May the gods damn their black souls.

The rumbles of the castle grew, but I heard them less and less. I was getting numb as I screamed, only registering the hard beat of Barrel's wings as the muted pounding of a covered drum. Far, far below, I spotted the Matriarch blasting its cannons at a group of giant black figures, but by then I was too far gone to really care.

Like I said, my life has fallen apart. And as a massive, white symbol appeared in the sky behind us, shattering and fading while all the nobles watched, I ceased to give a fuck.

Time for another break.


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