Mythos: Last Stand

  Chapter 10 — Two Minutes, Thirty Seconds

  by Caide Fullerton

  Jackie cut across the clearing, making for the exit on the opposite side. Naturally, the Kuzumade did not take kindly to a fifth of its meal trying to escape.

  Well, Jackie was pretty short, so they were probably less than a fifth.

  The Kuzumade had been charging towards Helena and the others in cover, but it caught their retreat out of the corner of its eyes and shifted its attention to them. All according to plan; it would charge them instead, giving the others a chance to regroup.

  The Kuzumade’s methodology was a bit different than expected, though. Rather than charge straight for Jackie, it scurried backwards to the mouth of the clearing—where it had entered. Then, swiftly reversing its waves of scuttling feet, it lurched along the outside edge of the clearing, its body drawing a half-circle around the ruins until it reached the exit on the opposite side. Once there it continued its forward charge, finally turning directly to Jackie.

  It was nothing if not thorough. The beast would rather expose a large swath of its body to attack than leave even the smallest opportunity for any of its prey to escape. Jackie couldn’t help but wonder if a handful of Humans were even worth the effort; surely all five of them wouldn’t leave a dent in the nourishment such a massive creature needed to survive.

  They might have been able to escape, if only giant centipedes understood the sunk cost fallacy.

  Two minutes, fifteen seconds.

  The main ruin stood in the very center of the clearing, a crumpled heap of stone and debris. The area stretched out a good twenty meters beyond that structure on all sides, dotted with lone pillars and smaller heaps of stone.

  Jackie began weaving between the mounds and pillars, the thunderous rumbling of the Kuzumade’s chase filling their ears. The strategy was met with mixed results; the Kuzumade trampled straight through the clearing, barely pausing as it toppled pillars with snaps of its mandibles.

  Two minutes, ten seconds.

  Clicking their tongue, Jackie pivoted, dashing straight for the ruin at the center of the clearing. The Kuzumade twisted its body to follow, closing in—

  Jackie dove through what was once a window just as the beast behind them unfolded its scythes. They scraped against the stone, having missed their target; a moment later, the Kuzumade rammed against the ruin, gnashing at the debris with its mandibles.

  Jackie hurried further into the ruin, knowing the stone wouldn’t hold the monster for long. Indeed, it began smashing through the debris with quick thrashes of its large, armored head, making quick work of their limited defenses.

  As Jackie dashed deeper into the structure, creaking from the force of the Kuzumade’s impacts, a second figure peeked out of cover, bow drawn—Sam. He loosed an arrow, sending it whizzing past the crumbling columns and straight into the Kuzumade’s soft, fleshy jaw.

  Two minutes.

  The monster offered no reaction to Sam’s attack. It was unsurprising; after how much Strade had managed to tear it open, it was clear a couple of arrows wouldn’t do much against it. Even so, Sam fired a second as if in defiance of the beast’s constitution.

  The Kuzumade swung its head once more, a wall of debris collapsing beneath the impact. With a hiss, the creature began collecting rocks and columns with its mandibles, tossing them aside one by one. As it did, Jackie placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder, gesturing to the side.

  Jackie: “We need to move before it gets in. Follow me outside.”

  They began moving without waiting for an answer; Sam glanced between them and the monster, baffled yet following anyways. “Outside!?”

  Jackie: “If it brings down the whole building, we’re dead the moment it spits acid again!” They shouted back without turning and vaulted through a windowframe, landing back in the mud.

  One minute, fifty seconds.

  Sam followed swiftly. It took only a second for the Kuzumade to catch onto them. It dropped a column on the spot and retracted its body backwards, executing a perfect three-point turn before charging after them. It toppled a stray column as it rounded the ruin, closing in on them—

  Something small flew over their heads—a dagger, spinning through the air. It soared straight for the Kumori, towards it left pair of eyes. As it flew, the dagger became flesh, whipping out in both directions, growing, stretching, and then hardening again.

  And so, just a split second before the dagger reached the Kuzumade, it became an anvil instead.

  The metal crashed against the Kuzumade with a resounding clamor. The creature came to a complete and sudden halt, crying out with a gargled hiss as the iron mass bounced off of its armored head. The beast staggered back, a gaping velvet wound where two eyes had just been.

  The black surface of the anvil condensed, becoming a tire, and it bounced off of the monster’s shell again, bounding away into the mud. It rolled swiftly across the clearing, passing Jackie and Sam, and made its way to a tall, broad-shouldered figure.

  The tire itself seemed to jump into the air, and as it did it once again changed shape, this time thinning and stretching into a wooden staff. It landed perfectly in the hands of the figure—Helena. She addressed the Kuzumade with a glare as Sam and Jackie made their way to her.

  A stream of purple blood carving a path down its head, the Kuzumade turned its attention to Helena—and the entity in her hands—with a low growl. It began forward again with cautious steps, its two remaining eyes locked on her.

  Jackie: “It’ll be able to spit again in a minute and a half!” They rushed to relay that info as they and Sam slid to a stop on either side of Helena. “Kill it before then, or get ready to take cover inside the main ruin.”

  They ascertained the situation with a single glance. The staff in Helena’s hands was undoubtedly Lii; with her firepower, they might just stand a chance.

  Jackie: “Me and Sam will try and support you. Deal as much damage as you can. Don’t get hit.”

  Helena nodded grimly, her grip tightening around the staff. “Don’t have to tell me that.”

  One minute, thirty seconds.

  Girl and centipede charged forward in unison. The Kuzumade swerved to the left as it closed in, stretching out a scythe to swipe at her. It was being cautious; it had recognized her as a real threat.

  Helena: “Hammer!” She shouted, swinging the staff in a downward arc. The weapon reacted to her voice, its end expanding to become a large stone mallet as it passed the swing’s apex.

  The weapon smashed down on the scythe, pinning it to the mud. A painful snap sounded as the Kuzumade’s body continued forward, stretching the thin limb of the scythe to its limit, unable to retract beneath the mallet. The beast came to a stop and turned inward, lurching towards Helena with its mandibles open wide instead.

  Her eyes widening, Helena released the hammer and leapt aside. “Extend!” Even before receiving the command, the hammer’s hilt sank into the stone head, and it briefly ceased being a hammer and became a simple block of stone instead.

  The Kuzumade passed over the stone, lunging for Helena. As it did, the stone changed shape again, this time rapidly expanding upwards. Flesh stretched between two solid stone ends, and what was previously a single block became a full column of stone. It rammed up into the Kusumade’s chin like an uppercut, sending its frontmost segment into the air; in the process, its right scythe, still pinned beneath the column, was torn clean off.

  Blood oozing from the snapped limb beneath its chin, the Kuzumade roared in pain as it fell onto its side. Beside it, the column of stone thinned as it began to tilt to one side, shrinking into a spear. Helena seized the spear and reared it back to jab at the monster; the weapon was too short to reach, but it lengthened into a pike as it was thrust forward.

  The metal tip of the pike gouged into the Kuzumade’s soft underbelly, drawing yet more velvet blood. The pike shrank before extending on its own once more, striking the same spot. Helena blinked, realizing the weapon’s intent, and began rapidly jabbing it at the Kuzumade. It extended and shrank again and again, peppering the beast’s underbelly with wounds.

  This exchange only lasted a couple seconds before the monster righted itself with a mighty twist of its body. Its legs pounded the ground as it turned, its body shaking—its segments had squeezed together as it was on its side. The beast lurched forward at Helena.

  In a panic, Helena struck the ground at her feet with the butt of the spear. It extended just as it had before, this time lifting her off the ground and propelling her backwards before shrinking back to its original size. The sudden movement yanked her out of range of the monster’s gnashing mandibles, but it raised its head and unfolded its remaining scythe, its swing managing to catch her leg.

  Helena grit her teeth, holding back a cry of pain as the monster tore open a gash in her shin. It wasn’t a deep wound, but the impact sent her spinning out midair. She crashed to the ground, rolling across the mud, her leg painting a thin line of crimson in her wake.

  One minute.

  The Kuzumade pressed on, intent on finishing off its prey here and now. Its legs carried it forward, but a sharp pain brought it to a stop. An arrow zipped in from the sidelines, sinking into the exposed wound where its left eyes had been; the beast thrashed and shrieked.

  Helena rose, ignoring the throbbing pain running up her leg, and stumbled away from the Kuzumade. Continuing to writhe, it let out a gargled hiss, staggering to the side. Arrows had seemed to do nothing to it before, but that one had clearly hit its mark.

  Sam: “Hit it in the wound!” He shouted across the clearing at his sister, readying another arrow. “Eyes are connected to the brain! Hit it there!”

  The spear in her hands shrank into a light dagger, and Helena threw her arm out to the side. “You heard him, Lii. Make it hurt.”

  She swung. As she did, what extended out in front of her, lashing like a whip, was a chain. Link by link it grew, rapidly extending as the motion of Helena’s swing chased its end like a wave.

  The Kuzumade locked its eyes on Helena again, still recoiling from pain as it charged straight forward. She struck at it with but a measly chain, and so its legs carried it forward in a gallop, its mandibles opening wide as it closed in. This time, it would not be stopped. This time, it would kill her in one swoop. This time—

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  The end of the chain ballooned out as it reached the Kuzumade’s head. Flesh became iron, and an anchor smashed against the Kuzumade’s wounded head, one of its arms piercing through the crack in the monster’s shell.

  The impact caused the beast to slide across the mud, losing its footing. It fell to the ground, legs twitching as a high-pitched shriek escaped its maw. The anchor had lodged itself deep into its flesh, and one after another each segment of the monster’s body started to freeze up, some crashing to the dirt, others remaining held up like statues.

  Its beady eyes glared at Helena. In defiance of its failing body, the monster commanded itself to move.

  And move it did.

  The other segments of its body crashed down in unison as the monster focused all of its power on just its frontmost segment. Its legs dug into the mud, dragging its body forward. It swung its head back towards Helena, mustering all its might to lurch forward one final time, stretching out its mandibles—

  They snapped closed, but only air was caught between them. Helena had been whipped away—the anchor’s chain shortened rapidly, yanking her up into the air and onto the Kuzumade’s head. She hit the surface of its shell with a grunt, clutching the anchor for support as her feet slipped against the monster’s blood and the sleek chitin of its shell.

  Immediately the beast began to thrash, but its weakness was already showing. The best it could do was rock its head to either side, and after the third movement its body tilted and crashed to the ground again. The anchor had all but certainly pierced its brain, leaving the monster on its last legs.

  “All but certainly” wasn’t good enough for Helena.

  Helena: “Axe!” She commanded, and the anchor changed shape, one of its metal arms shrinking away. She tore the weapon free of the Kuzumade’s flesh, then swung down, cleaving into it once more.

  She repeated this several times, each strike eliciting weak shrieks from the dying monster. As she raised the axe over her head a final time, it assumed a new form of its own volition—a scythe. The climactic swing brought the blade deep into the Kuzumade’s head, and what little movement it could still manage ceased almost instantaneously. A sound like a deep sigh drifted out of its now-agape maw, and its body almost seemed to deflate as it sank down against the mud, defeated.

  Helena stood atop the monster’s corpse, the wind unraveling her disheveled hair. She huffed breathlessly, her hands shaking around the wooden shaft of the scythe. Tightening her grip, she took a deep breath, forcing her body to stifle its adrenaline. Her heart refused to accept that the battle was over, but exhaustion won in the end.

  Thus, she promptly fell backwards, collapsing atop the dead Kuzumade. As she lay there, catching her breath, it took her a few seconds to realize she was staring straight up at the sun. She shut her eyes, raising a hand to rub her temple.

  Helena: “That… was the most terrifying thing I’ve ever done.”

  She could hardly believe that she had fought in such close quarters against such a massive creature. A single wrong move from her—or from Lii—would have spelled her end.

  She blinked. Shit, Lii..!

  She shot up and dragged her fatigued body over to the scythe, still embedded in the Kuzumade’s skull. Gripping the wooden shaft once more, she tore it free, mumbling,

  Helena: “I am so sorry, I totally forgot, I just…” She trailed off, giving the weapon a meaningful look, “That, uh, can’t be pleasant. You can turn back now, though.”

  The scythe did not respond, nor did it change shape. Helena raised an eyebrow, at first in curiosity, though the emotion quickly transitioned to concern.

  Helena: “Lii? Are you alright?” She asked, once again to no reply. She began inspecting the weapon in a panic. A section of the haft was discolored, and another was chipped—the translations of the wounds her human body had sustained, though there didn’t seem to be any new damage.

  Was she stuck, unable to turn back—a consequence of staying as an object for too long? Or perhaps she was just asleep? Could Mimics sleep while they were in the form of something inanimate?

  ???: “She probably just doesn’t wanna transform with centipede guts all over her face.”

  Helena swiveled to face the intruding voice—Jackie, who was climbing their way atop the Kuzumade’s head. Once they reached the top, they sat themselves down, legs hanging over one edge of the Kuzumade’s corpse, and fished a cloth out of their satchel, handing it to Helena.

  Jackie: “Here. Clean her off.”

  Helena blinked, then accepted the cloth. She set the scythe down in her lap and began carefully wiping the blood and viscera from its blade. “Thanks.”

  Jackie: “Least I could do after you did all the hard work.” They replied, surprisingly chipper given the situation. “Good work, by the way. Thirty seconds to spare, give or take.”

  Helena: “Why am I not surprised you were counting?” She offered a dry remark in exchange, letting a smile slip across her lips. It was nice to have a distraction from the pain in her leg. “What’s got you in such a good mood? We nearly died.”

  Jackie: “For one, you were able to say ‘nearly’. But besides that…” They trailed off and tapped their chin, letting out an almost nervous chuckle, “I just got a nice reminder of how scary Mimics are. I’m glad she’s our friend.”

  Helena: “I have a feeling she’s going to be upset by that statement.”

  Jackie: “Can she even hear us like that?” They pondered, looking back at Helena and the scythe. “I guess so, since she was transforming based on your commands. Nice idea, that.”

  With that, Helena set the scythe down beside her. After a moment it expanded, and in the blink of an eye it became a grey-haired girl. Lii had returned. The first thing she did was inhale deeply, as though she’d been holding her breath the entire time she was an object. She then turned to Jackie with a pout,

  Lii: “A-am I really that scary..?”

  Jackie patted the shell of the Kuzumade beneath them. “You tore this thing’s face off.”

  Lii: “S-so what!? You turned the Kumori’s head into paste, too!”

  Jackie: “With a rock. Besides, it had a normal, human-sized head; this thing had Strade in its mouth.” They replied, then paused, turning to Helena with a sudden realization, “Strade’s still alive, right?”

  Helena: “Probably.”

  Jackie: “Whew, good.” They relaxed, then gave both girls a smile. “Well, I’m glad you two seem to be alright. Enough to joke around, anyways.” They glanced down at Helena’s leg, “Sam’s gonna want a look at that, though. And, uh, all the burns.”

  Helena grimaced. “I’m trying to ignore those. They hurt like hell.” She cast a meaningful gaze at Lii; her burns were far worse.

  Jackie: “On that note—Lii, think I could trouble you to fly me about a fourth of the way down this guy’s body?”

  Lii tilted her head with a curious expression; Helena narrowed her eyes at Jackie.

  Helena: “Can’t you walk?”

  Jackie: “Flying’s faster, and Lii’s powers will help once I’m there.” They locked eyes with Lii, “Besides, having something to work on will help distract you from the pain.”

  ? ? ?

  Sam simply stared at the Kuzumade’s corpse for a while after it fell, collecting his thoughts. It was almost surreal watching what had been an insurmountable foe mere moments before get demolished in such short order—and by his own sister, no less, even if it was Lii’s power that enabled the carnage.

  That was but one of many thoughts swimming through his mind. The battle had been won, but the worst of it was not over. Monsters were fearsome, of that there was no doubt, but direct combat against them was not what claimed most lives; that honor went to the wounds and disease that naturally followed these encounters. That was a fact Naomi had gone to no small effort to drill into him.

  That was where Sam’s role as a doctor came into play. He was tasked with fighting a battle after the battle, one against the festering of wounds and infections. He and Jackie had been lucky to make it through with a few scrapes at most. He’d seen the burns peppering Helena’s body, and the Kuzumade had hit her leg as well. He could assume Lii sported similar burns to his sister. Who he was most worried about, however…

  He made his way across the clearing, to the mound of half-melted debris he’d seen Helena and the others take refuge behind. He rounded the steaming rocks, and there he saw him, lying in a heap against the cover—Strade.

  His body was practically painted purple from the insect blood coating him. The only parts that weren’t blue were marked by acid burns instead. His skin, hair, and clothes dripped with the monster’s slimy saliva; Sam’s professional medical opinion was that that was utterly disgusting, and probably very unsanitary as well.

  Sam: “Strade! You awake?”

  He knelt down and reached for the man, then thought twice and retracted his hand. Strade was staring blankly up at the sky; after a moment he finally stirred, turning to look at Sam.

  Strade: “Unfortunately.”

  Sam sighed in relief, then took a step back, away from the slime. “Get your clothes off.”

  Strade: “What, you want a look?”

  Sam: “I’m going to dry them, unless you want to stay like that.” He replied through gritted teeth, his brow furling in frustration as he set down his bag and began retrieving the kindling for a fire. “Damn it, we need real firewood…”

  Strade regarded Sam with a dry expression. “Thing’s dead?”

  Sam: “Obviously.”

  Strade: “Everyone else?”

  Sam: “Me and Jackie are fine. You, Helena, and Lii are hurt.”

  Strade nodded. “Go see your sister and the Mimic. I’m fine.”

  Sam: “You’re in a puddle of slime.”

  Strade: “I’m hoping it’s secretly acidic and takes me out. Then I won’t have to walk around like this.”

  Sam’s eye twitched. “You’re the one in the worst shape. I’m treating you first, so hurry up and undress.”

  Strade: “I’ll be fine. Just go.”

  Sam turned to him with a glare, opening his mouth to speak, but he clenched his fist, inhaling sharply instead. With a deep exhale, he calmed his anger. Then he thought a little more about Strade’s words and got angry all over again.

  Sam: “Why are you always like this!?” He erupted, fuming.

  Strade cocked his head with a shrug, “Like what? So dashing?”

  Sam: “Dashing!? Must I remind you that you’re covered in slime!?”

  Strade: “I thought you were into that?”

  Sam inhaled again, clasping his hands together. He was half-convinced he might strangle Strade if he didn’t restrain himself. “Lii and Helena risked their lives to save you!”

  Strade hesitated for a moment, but his dismissive attitude took hold again. “Maybe they shouldn’t have.”

  Sam came to a complete stop, just staring and blinking at Strade. “They shouldn’t have? What the hell are you saying!?”

  At Sam’s shout, Strade turned away, his voice low. “I’m sorry, okay?”

  Sam: “You’re sorry? We aren’t just brushing that aside!”

  Strade: “It isn’t important.”

  Sam: “You don’t just get to decide that—“

  Strade: “I do!” He turned his gaze back to Sam, snarling. Sam took a step back, and at that Strade’s expression softened. He looked down at his feet, “That was dumb. I didn’t mean it.”

  A long moment passed before Sam replied. “Yeah, it was dumb. And you know what, Strade?”

  Strade: “Oh, what? You gonna lecture me now?”

  Sam: “I am, because you’re stupid!” He jabbed an accusatory finger at Strade.

  Strade: “Oh, I am, am I?”

  Sam: “And not just that. You’re reckless!”

  Strade: “Wow, really!?”

  Sam: “And shortsighted!”

  Strade: “Guess I need glasses!”

  Sam: “No, you don’t think anything through!”

  Strade: “Go figure!”

  Sam: “And worst of all, you don’t have any regard for your own life!” As their shouting match reached its climax, Sam grabbed Strade by the collar of his shirt, lifting him up without regard for the slime that coated him. He was breathing hard, tears forming in his eyes. “Do you seriously want to die?”

  Strade locked eyes with Sam, breathing just as heavily. Finally he answered, “No. Obviously not. I just…” He took a shaky breath as he trailed off, tightening a fist. “I was expecting to die.”

  Sam: “So? You just thought we’d abandon you?”

  Strade looked away. “You aren’t the types to leave anyone behind.”

  Sam just stared at him for a while before eventually releasing him, after which he quickly wiped the slime off his hand. “‘Anyone’ includes you, too.”

  Strade offered no response as Sam returned to his work. Eventually Sam broke the silence again, “I’ll treat your burns. Now hurry up and take your clothes off, for Eve’s sake!”

  you want to see Strade with his clothes off?

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