Thomas:

  The trusty firearms that had served Thomas and Michael faithfully these last two weeks were called Kaitlyn Xavier Industries Magnetar submachine gun. The model itself was of the deluxe range with all the added bells and whistles that the standard model didn’t come with like the palm recognition scanner built into the handle and the trigger mechanism. Or the wireless connection to his optic implants displaying where his weapon was aiming and ammo capacity. But, the main feature that took his fancy, and that of his little brother, was the Enabler module attached to the side of the barrel that altered the effects of the bullets fired.

  Each mode was voice activated and the ability each bullet had was up to the user’s discretion. For Thomas, he found no use to alter the bullets’ properties in any significant way yet. Though, on several occasions, he had hoped there was an explosive feature that could allow him to take on larger targets such as that twisted abhorrent creature they had the misfortune of encountering on the mountain.

  Its foul visage and exposed flesh, black and slick like oil haunted him whenever his eyes closed.

  And still, despite how much time had passed since defeating the abomination he could still feel the fire pulsing through his veins from the surge of adrenaline. He had let his guard down for a moment and his brother was almost taken away from him. Thomas’s heart nearly leapt out of his mouth when he saw Michael being dragged along the ground and toward the edge. In the span of a fraction of a second Thomas had thought to himself

  He’s dead. Michael is dead and its all my fault!

  But he rejected the thought as though his whole subconscious was working in preparation for the upcoming trauma. It all happened so fast he wasn’t even sure what had actually happened, and what aspect of the events were reality and what were constructed by his imagination. He knew he saved his little brother, that much was evident. He knew they saved him from nearly falling off a cliff and they had all managed to witness the destruction of Ghilya’s forest home. But he couldn’t remember how he moved so quickly to reach his brother in the span of a second and grab onto him before being pulled off the cliff.

  Before him, the gun was laid on the carpet in multiple parts; each component sat next to its related counterpart to resemble a blown out diagram of the weapon and its constituent parts. Thomas’ lack of care towards preserving the integrity of the carpet was made clear by the patches of dark stains of old gun lubricant that had thickened beyond any usability. With no spare cloths he could use to wipe away the dirt and grime, he made do with instead wiping the parts thoroughly on the carpet.

  The carpet’s been here for what, a hundred years? It was probably due for a modern replacement anyway. Its style and material was no longer fashionable by any standard anymore.

  Somehow, and without even knowing it, Thomas felt a strange sense of calm and order wash over him. The train of thought about how he saved his brother and nearness of losing him had caused other terrible opinions and thoughts to spawn and fester in his subconscious until it made his heart race from being anxious about a hypothetical situation in which he would fail. Yet, the terrible thoughts perished and receded far away from his perception until they were no longer noticeable anymore as the assembly of his weapon brought about a sense of calm and order. When he paused to think about it, he found that the process of taking his gun apart and putting it back together had the calming sense of ritual. That the act of cleaning his gun also cleaned some part of his soul that he hadn’t realised needed cleaning.

  The process of putting it all back together had an equal sense of calm that nearly made Thomas want to take it apart and put it back together all over again. The thought made him smile a little and he allowed a slight chuckle.

  With a firm slap, the magazine slid firmly into place until a small metallic click could be heard; the submachine gun was assembled once more. Thomas sat the weapon beside his backpack and began systematically going through the contents.

  A bundle of rope. Water canteen. Empty. Another week’s worth of dried, packaged protein bars. One magazine for his weapon. Pocket knife. His own handgun with a few magazines for it. A first aid kit. And of all things a magazine from Living Homes Monthly. How that got there, Thomas had no clue whatsoever but reasoned it must have been there before he embarked on this journey. Though he had no recollection of reading it, let alone buying it.

  “Should’ve brought some spare clothes with me.” He mumbled to himself then lightly sniffed under his arms. “And maybe a toiletries kit too.”

  Indeed, he was starting to realise just how woefully under-prepared he was for this journey. Several items started popping into his head with what he should have brought for this journey but he paid them no mind as it was too late for them to go back and collect them. But he had to forgive himself for coming unprepared. After all, it was not as though he could have known what was required for such a journey, nor could he have known just how gruelling and taxing it would have been.

  When everything was packed back into his backpack with only the gun remaining, Thomas had an interesting thought pop into his head; If he was running low on ammunition then surely so was everyone else. And this base had an armoury.

  It seemed so obvious in that moment that he didn’t stop to think of it further as he got up and left his room to locate it.

  He returned to the breaker room to check the floor map and found it easily below him. When he found it, he found the door was left ajar. Small clanks and cluttering sounds could be heard from it. The sound of feet pottering about inside it made Thomas fear that something else was inside this base and he was about to approach it without a weapon.

  Shit, should I raise the alarm and alert the others? Or do I deal with this myself unarmed? Wait, shit! What if its something real tough like that damned nightmarish thing?

  Thomas knew his head was spiralling toward a dark place he didn’t want to think about. Even the mere thought about the possibility that the creature had somehow survived and followed them here was anxiety and stress he and the others didn’t need to deal with at the time. He shook his head as though the thought would be banished from his mind. At best, he could just observe and report back to his group if this was something he couldn’t handle.

  He could feel his chest muscles quivering and shaking nervously as he approached the door frame. Though he put the doubt and fear aside he could still sense the lingering remnants of them within. Slowly, he leaned forward to peer past the threshold expecting to see some kind of creature either something that will try to kill him or something that will try to kill him that he could talk to. Instead, he found Michael giggling maniacally to himself.

  The relief that came over Thomas was near transcendental. He could feel the muscles in his chest and legs loosen up by magnitudes and his heart starting to settle down.

  “What are you doing here?” Thomas asked more forcefully than he intended.

  Michael nearly jumped out of his skin, and in doing so he had dropped the rifle he was holding where it landed with a loud CLACK. Part of Thomas flinched expecting the chambered round to fire off. The sound of metal on concrete broke through the silence like a gunshot before Michael could regain his composure and regain control over himself.

  “Are you following me!?” Michael yelled breathlessly. “Stop it, please. If I go to the toilet I better not find you there too.”

  Thomas crossed his arms and wore a sly smile. “Well what if I need to use it?”

  “Then... Don’t.”

  The expression on his little brother’s face was one of intense thought and puzzlement. He had seen that look whenever Michael was wound up and was seriously considering his next answer or thinking about a point made against him and how he can argue against it no matter how correct it may be. Nonetheless, he was right about Thomas’s repeated unannounced visitations. He pointed to the weapon at his little brother’s feet and asked.

  “So, whatcha got there?” In a jovial tone that countered Michael’s defensiveness.

  “I don’t know. This particular model says PATRIOT. I don’t know if that is the name of it or the name of the company that makes them. But I guess this was the more popular one as that rack over by the door is full of them.”

  He had pointed toward a thin wire mesh rack that was lined with the exact same PATRIOT weapon. The weapon was a black rifle with a short barrel and streamlined curves where the under-barrel meets with the trigger guard. On top, there was a handle with a sizable scope mounted on top and a laser pointer attached to the side of the barrel. Its outline resembled that of their own SMG’s but with a sleeker and more outdated design.

  Thomas reached for one of the guns on the rack and removed the magazine to inspect the bullets. Without having his existing ammunition on him he was unable to make a side by side comparison but he suspected that the types were the same. True to Michael’s word, PATRIOT was indeed etched into the main body in big lettering along the body of the weapon.

  “So, uh, are we gonna talk about before?” Thomas said.

  Michael’s eyes widened briefly, his cheeks flushed, the arteries in his neck could be seen rhythmically tensing and easing. He seemed to be avoiding making direct eye contact with Thomas which only seemed more suspicious than if he had. Thomas noted the sudden uptick in respiration in his little brother and knew he had hit the right spot.

  “Wh-wha-“

  “Don’t bother denying it. I knew as soon as I saw you leave her room. Clearly you didn’t know about the tear and snot stains on your shoulders.” Thomas said pointing at his brother’s shoulder.

  He looked down while pinching a fold of fabric between two fingers and examined the small wet patches on his clothing.

  “You weren’t just ‘comforting’ her, were you? Something happened, didn’t it?”

  Michael’s eyes widened in shock and he started speaking fast, trying to get his wits. “NO! Er, no. Nothing like that happened. Really, she just needed someone and I was there and-“

  Thomas held up both hands placatively. “I’m not accusing you of anything,” He said with a calm and soothing voice. “I wouldn’t hold it against you if you and her found yourselves experiencing urges that require a more... intimate company and you-“

  “Wait what!?”

  Hearing the vocal registry in his brother’s voice shoot up in pitch like a rocket almost made Thomas burst out in a fit of laughter.

  “I’m just saying; its perfectly normal for someone your age to start experiencing things, thinking about girls- though I would have preferred you go after human girls instead - but I get that you don’t have many options to choose from.”

  “N-no! Tom, its not like-“

  “Its alright,” He continued, hands still raised. “Its perfectly normal to sow some wild oats, as mum would say. And as long as she does nothing to hurt you and the both of you consent to it then-“

  Still in its comically high pitch, Michael barked out. “Thomas, shut the hell up!”

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  Thomas likewise closed his mouth shut and didn’t say another word. He wanted to wait until his brother made the next move. And he did. Michael had been breathing heavily like he had just come from a marathon, except without the weary expression on his face, and instead a wide-eyed glare that gave no room for Thomas to say anything.

  Michael stood silent as he regained control of his breathing. His chest steadily resumed its normal proportions each time he breathed in and out.

  “I don’t want to have sex with Ghilya.” A brief gap enunciated each word until they were a sentence unto themselves. Michel’s breathing had regained control but his massive eyes still fixated on Thomas like a predator sizing up its prey.

  “She was upset about the bombing. I was there to comfort her. That is all. No more. No less.”

  With carefully calculated precision, Thomas raised his hands and patted the air softly to indicate that he didn’t want to fight. Choosing to keep a warm and friendly tone, Thomas quietly said. “Okay. Okay, I understand clearly, brother.”

  Thankfully his little brother seemed to take it as intended and the muscles around his eyes eased up, removing the wide eyed look he had on him. Did he know that he looked like that? Michael blinked twice as though he had somehow snapped out of a trance before returning his gaze back to the weapon in his hands. He had set the PATRIOT weapon onto the nearest rack with a metallic clik.

  Thomas had done the same with the one in his hands and reached for a different looking weapon that had a large cylinder attached under the barrel.

  “When was the last time you slept?” He asked in the same calm and quiet voice. Before Michael could respond he said. “You have gone through a lot in just these past two days alone, you’ve barely slept and I am worried for you.”

  The sigh that came out of Michael was more like one big exhalation of breath. When he looked over to see what was going on, Michael had his head hanging limp and his eyes closed shut. There was a brief moment that Thomas had thought his dear, young brother had fallen asleep while standing. When he reached out in an attempt to shake him awake Michael’s eyes shot open and he let out a smaller breath.

  “I don’t know man, I forgot. Maybe two days ago, shit, so much has happened I don’t know how much longer I can go on.”

  This worried Thomas more than the death-defying encounters they have recently experienced. Michael had quite a few limits but he hadn’t done anything to push beyond them because he never needed to in the past. Whether that was from a lack of motivation or a by-product of his long running status as unemployed was left to be determined. But this trip was not only pushing him past those boundaries and limitations but it would have pushed beyond those who had actively tried to push them. In fact, a majority of people Thomas knew would probably be struggling under the same circumstances, maybe even have given up days ago.

  He wanted more than anything to feel an ounce of pride towards his brother for making it this far without showing signs of quitting or wanting to slow down, yet the damage being done to his health was taxing enough to render the achievement irrelevant.

  Michael’s voice became croaky and almost a mumble. “Tom.” He muttered. “What if we get there and we fail? What if we get there and its too late, or that we don’t convince the Dragon Lord? Will this all have been worth it?”

  Thomas knew what his brother was trying to say. ‘What are we going to do if we don’t succeed.’ He wanted to tell him they could simply go back home and try to make the best of it. Or they could spend the rest of their days with Ghilya learning how to survive out in the wilds here. A nomadic lifestyle didn’t seem too appealing but given the choice it wasn’t a bad one all things considered.

  He didn’t want to lie, didn’t want to fill his brother’s mind with false hope and the promise of a better tomorrow when even that seemed a far fetched concept. At the same time he didn’t want to stamp out any lingering ember of hope that Michael might have been holding on to if he ever felt his faith in their mission waiver.

  “Well, we just have to make the most of it as best we can.” And it was almost true enough that he could believe it.

  It seemed to be enough for Michael as he approached Thomas with a sorrowful look. His arms left his sides and wrapped themselves behind Thomas’s back to bring the older sibling into a firm hug. He returned the gesture and took to running his fingers through Michael’s tattered dark brown hair as a sign of affection. The overwhelming need for physical affection and the sensation of touch was one that Michael needed more than Thomas did, they both lacked a lot of it in their lives but while the latter had learned to live without it, the former had instead a drive to nearly hug and openly display his affection to those he considered close friends and family.

  Michael sniffled as he buried his face in Thomas’s chest. After a moment, he broke the hug and wiped the water building up in his reddening eyes.

  “Go and sleep.”

  He nodded, then left the armoury to Thomas.

  With a sigh he thought to himself. I hope this journey finishes soon, he doesn’t have much more time left in him. Dad, wherever you are, please send him some strength.

  Thomas gave a quick glance over the weapon racks for anything he might find interesting. Occasionally eying specific pieces of firearms and explosives that he thought might come in handy on their quest. The noise he heard coming from beyond the blast door was a soft hissing sound that was almost barely perceptible. At first thought, Thomas assumed it to be Ghilya, Clarke or even Michael quietly trying to shuffle their way close to the door frame to listen in on what he was doing but something about the noise didn’t add up. It was a soft hissing sound of feet brushing along sand but the sound went on far too long for someone trying to be sneaky.

  After reaching for the nearest weapon and flicking the safety on, Thomas carefully leaned out from the door frame and inspected both sides of the corridor for anyone that was there. He could hear the gentle hissing sound again only this time it sounded like there was more than one entity creating it, then it suddenly stopped.

  There was the very real chance that there was no such thing and that Thomas was simply imagining the sound all in his head and he wanted to dismiss it but the knot in his stomach forbade him from taking such action.

  Surely I haven’t gone insane already, right? I don’t think I’ve hit the limit on my sanity quite yet.

  Just as suddenly as it had stopped, the strange shuffling sound came back, at least from three different sources. Thomas scanned the corridor where Michael and himself had come through, then he inspected the other end of the hallway where it had been obscured by darkness. Most likely from broken or faulty light fixtures. He flicked on his night vision mode embedded within his ocular implants and saw the whole corridor in shades of green and black after immersing himself in the darkness. Nothing stood out to him at first, there were no creatures scurrying along the walls trying to get away from him or coming towards him. Just the empty concrete walls and pipe laden ceiling. He was about to turn around and forget all about it when he saw another door left ajar, Thomas realised the sound was coming from behind the door as the sound of shuffling and soft hissing grew louder.

  Whatever primal instincts remained within his biology engaged his flight or fight response as a surge of adrenaline flooded his circulatory system. Thomas’s hands shook readily for action, every organic part of him shook and twitched in anticipation for what he was about to see.

  Once he was through the door he was again greeted with a blackened corridor that offered no light and nothing to indicate what was making the noise. When he looked down, he saw the floor had been covered in sand that curved upward to form a wall on his right and continue to cover the ground all the way to the end of his left. He tried to scan the sand for tracks but couldn’t find any. The sound was noticeably louder but it went quiet again shortly after he had entered the hallway.

  Thomas tried steadying his breath and calming down his heart rate with little success. The hair on his neck stood on end and he was left paralysed with fear as he tried to think his way through this.

  Okay, fuck this. I’m better off where there is light. Light is good, nothing bad happens in the light. Lots of bad things happen in the dark.

  Just as he started to turn around, this time for good, he was stopped once more in his tracks by the sounds of high pitched chittering and repetitive clicking noises coming somewhere close by. Though he had no idea what part of him made him inspect the ceiling for the source, Thomas was both relieved and horrified to see what was above him.

  How on Munhiero did he not see that before? Looking at it from this distance nearly made it impossible to not have noticed it before.

  What. The. Fuck?

  Above him was not a creature that stared back at him with alien appendages and bulbous compound eyes. But instead it was some kind of strange growth glued to the ceiling above him. The night vision mode made its moist flesh seem to be a dark olivine colour with spiderweb like veins visible from the outside. Thomas took a step back away from the growth and started looking for more of the strange growths. It looked to be about a foot from top to bottom and about half as wide at the base. It looked as though two balls of different sizes were glued together with the larger of the two serving as the base with the smaller one on top. Or in this case, the bottom.

  What uneased Thomas’s stomach about the whole thing was how it seemed to be alive in some way. Whatever it was expanded and contracted as though it were breathing with the occasional protruding bulge from something inside.

  And yet, despite all common sense and rationality screaming at him to turn around and run in the opposite direction, the curiosity in him begged him to go forward and see if there were more of these things. Thomas cursed himself as quietly as he could under his breath as he skirted along the wall to avoid being as near to the thing as possible as he made his way further down the corridor, he turned a corner and his eyes widened at the sight of dozens more of the strange fleshy growths covering the walls, floor, and ceiling for as far as his night vision could allow. He had almost covered his mouth in an attempt to stop himself from exclaiming something loud enough to be heard by... Whatever these were.

  At a guess he estimated there to be nearly thirty of the things. Each one pulsating and writhing slowly, almost patiently. Far away where even his enhanced sight was swallowed up by the blackness he could hear the chittering, soft hissing sound still moving about in parts unseen, it made Thomas’ skin crawl and gave him enough of a reason to get out of there while he still could.

  When he saw the first working light sconce past where he had first seen the strange growth he almost felt a wave of euphoric relief wash over him as his sense of safety was restored. As false of a sense as it was, he was glad to be out of the dark. The chittering sounds grew more intense, while his heart still raced Thomas made a maddened dash toward the stairs and back up to where they had made camp.

  In the hallway where everyone rested in their own private rooms, Thomas banged his balled fists on each door he walked past. He cursed breathlessly and paused to still his breathing as everyone opened the door to see what the commotion was all about. Clarke was the first to open the door. He glanced up and down the corridor, then opened the door further to reveal he was gripping his sidearm. Ghilya entered the hallway next with eyes puffed up and red as tomatoes. She looked down at Thomas with a raised eyebrow and arms folded over her slim chest like a parent that was waiting for a child to apologise for something they did.

  Although Thomas tried to speak, his brief burst of energy drained him severely to the point that all that came out of his mouth was a hissing, wheezing sound.

  “Are you dying?” Clarke asked. “You sound like my vacuum cleaner whenever it picks up a coin.”

  Before he could tell Clarke to go fuck himself, Michael came out of his room and said. “What’s going on?”

  Shortly after catching his breath, Thomas explained what he saw downstairs. Even though he knew nobody was aware of what he was talking about, subconsciously he had hoped that someone at least had some iota of what he was trying to say.

  “Strange blob things that stick to walls and ceilings?” Ghilya said. She spoke slowly as if trying out how each word sounded. Whether or not each one made sense to her understanding or not, she still said it as though it were a question.

  Thomas waved his hand for them to follow him. They all stood before the black corridor where he first saw the strange growths. Ghilya tentatively took a step forward then reached into one of her pockets for a small light blue crystal and brought it up to her mouth then whispered something to make it illuminate. She held the illuminated crystal in front of her as though she was offering it to the darkness instead of using it as a makeshift torch. As soon as the light had struck the strange growth it began pulsating and wriggling as though the light was hurting it, still, Ghilya pressed forward out of curiosity more than concern until her crystal light filled the one darkened corridor.

  “I’ve never seen this before.” She said absentmindedly.

  The strange growth continued to react against the presence of light. Small undulations of muscle fibres and whatever made up this thing continued to move and shift as though it was trying to get away. Even the other growths started shifting and moving about in the presence of light. She scrutinised the one on the ceiling by approaching it. Each step closer and the more violent the motions became as if her crystal was scaring it.

  Two stick like appendages rose out from the bottom of the growth, a small opening of muscle contracted open to allow whatever was inside to come out. Another two stick like appendages poked out then pointed toward the ceiling where it grabbed onto the base of the growth and allowed the round body of a creature with eight legs and two eyes on the end of stalks like a crab or some kind of mollusc. Ghilya jumped back at the sight and reached for her curved knives on her hips, ready to attack. And that was when Thomas saw the vertical orientated mouth and rows of needle like teeth.

  “We need to leave... Now!” Ghilya said carefully. Her teeth were clenched against each other as though trying to crush one another.

  Michael replied with a quivering voice that said more about how close he was to screaming in fear. “No need to tell me twice”

  But Ghilya shook her head without looking away from the strange spider-like creature. “No, I mean we need to get out of this place. Get our stuff, get back to the surface, and run as far and fast as we can.”

  Thomas noticed everyone was slowly taking a step back away from the creature. It made some kind of strange barking sound as though it were trying to mimic a demonic bird call, and more of the strange growths exposed the arachnid like creatures. Thomas looked behind him and saw the door to the armoury.

  “Get to the armoury, all of you. We can arm ourselves and get out of here.”

  Still refusing to take her eyes off the strange creature she said in a low voice. “That’s not going to be a good idea for long.”

  “Why not?” Michael asked as though the situation was not serious.

  Ghilya’s response came with swift, ballet like precision of her blades cutting through the air so fine that Thomas thought it left a visible wake distorting the air. The spider-like creature had sprung toward her before splitting into two mid-flight. Both halves of the strange creature hit the ground with a wet plop sound, blood as blue as the ocean seeped into the sand, staining it like printer ink.

  All four bodies ran away with Thomas taking the lead, he made his way to the thickened armoury door and pushed it open for everyone to follow inside. Ghilya was the last to enter, at first she hesitated then looked back at the corridor they had vacated and bolted towards Thomas.

  He pulled it shut, though he remained uncertain how to actually lock the thing so instead he went toward the weapon racks and started gearing up, grabbing two rifles and stuffing his pockets with as many magazines as he could find.

  “What the hell are those things?” Clarke asked openly.

  Ghilya paced right past Clarke and flicked her blades down, sending small flecks of bright blue blood onto the floor. A few droplets spattered near the Senator’s feet and he flinched back as though he was afraid to contract something.

  “Watch it!” He cautioned.

  Ghilya made her way toward a series of cabinets on the opposing end of the armoury and inspected the contents on the shelves.

  Michael grabbed one of the PATRIOT rifles and inspected it. “Oh, of course we just HAD to stumble upon another nightmare species didn’t we?”

  “Not now.” Thomas said dismissively.

  “I mean seriously!” He whined. “We survive an invasion. Survive that pointy-eared asshole Xareith. I survive a dragon attack. Not to mention that abomination that nearly killed me!”

  “Michael... Not now” His older brother insisted more sternly.

  But the young sibling either didn’t hear it or was ignoring the warning altogether. “What’s next? Death by Centaur jousting? Some creature cocoons us and uses our bodies as hosts leaving us to die a horrible death? Or will a Naga capture us and squeeze us like a toothpaste tube?”

  Finally, Thomas snapped. “SHUT UP! I know you are pushed to the limit, but so is everyone else here and you don’t see them complaining. So deal with it!”

  Michael wasn’t the only one that was stunned into silence by the sudden outburst. Though it was not clear on Thomas’ face, deep down he was a bit surprised that he lost his cool for a moment. He thought about apologising for it later when things would calm down enough to let him do so. But right now, his attention was focused on dealing with these things. He looked to Ghilya who was inspecting sheathed bayonets lying around on a shelf.

  “Missy, you seemed to recognize these things. Any wise elven insight you care to share with the rest of us?”

  The look on Ghilya’s face could easily be interpreted as annoyance had that not known her as well as they did. To Thomas, she looked sternly determined as though she was figuring out some kind of plan for dealing with the creatures.

  “We call them Night Bugs,” She stated with a sneer of discontent. “Nasty things that live in darkness. I have encountered them before many years ago. They have a strong dislike of light, any source of light seems to burn them. But fighting them is another thing. They are fast, not much of a threat by themselves but when there is more than two or three of them that is when we have a problem.”

  “Further in the corridor I saw dozens more of those things.”

  “Then we have an infestation and that is a big problem for us.”

  Clarke who had been silent up until now had loaded up his revolver and shrugged his shoulders.

  “Why not just leave them be? If we stay in the lit areas then they won’t come near us. Problem solved.”

  Ghilya shot him a look that said he should have known the answer already. “Because that will change quickly now that they know we are here. They dislike light but if they can quickly take out any sources of it quickly then they will do so until we are in the dark and they can pick us off. Which is why we should be grabbing our stuff and leaving as soon as possible.”

  “Alright then,” Thomas said absentmindedly. He slapped a magazine into the rifle and cocked it into the ready position. “Then lets get going.”