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[rework] Minglings - chapter 2: Boiling anger
🕑 Added 2022-03-17 20:44:15 +0000 UTCJake's consciousness returned slowly.
What? Did I oversleep? he thought, wondering why he was sleeping while sitting on the downstairs sofa.
With a jolt his mind replayed what had happened before, and he snapped fully awake. What had happened? He had been talking with Mason, and then darkness had wrapped around him. There had been five images hovering in the dark and the irresistible urge to pick one. Then a fuzzy memory of focusing on the distinctly reptilian one, then nothing.
"Agggghhhh.."
A guttural, animalistic moan came from close by, and he shot up as his heart rate spiked. He moved fast, faster than he was used to, and something was off with his balance.
"Holy fuck," he hissed as he swayed on his feet.
His voice had changed, a little deeper and with a rough growl as if he had something in his throat.
He flailed around, barely keeping his balance, and noticed his arm. It was covered in silvery-blue scales, while his fingers ended in vicious-looking claws.
Another groan made him turn, almost toppling over.
His eyes widened as he stared at a being the size of a large man. Reddish golden scales covered a weirdly familiar yet almost alien snouted face with bright yellow eyes. Shreds of ripped clothing covered its muscular frame, and he recognized the T-shirt.
"Mason, is that you?" he hissed.
The golden-scaled kobold turned to him and blinked as a dog-like grin came to his snout.
"No, I'm a monster, RAWR. Who else would it be, you moron?" Mason said as he stretched, muscles rippling under his scale-covered skin. He was holding on to the chair to keep from falling over.
"Man, besides the vertigo, I feel fantastic!" he said before inspecting his friend. "Hey, we are different colors!"
Jake tsked, not able to resist returning Mason's jab. "You don't say, mister obvious!"
Then he sighed as he put his arm even closer to his face, inspecting his new skin.
"I wonder if this means we have different dragon lineages?" he asked, lowering his arm and pressing his wicked-looking nails in the armrest of the nearby chair. Woodcurls came off as if he was using a sharp knife. He automatically tried to whistle, which resulted in him spraying spittle in the air.
"You mean like fire and ice, or gold and silver? Could be, it would make sense," Mason said as he shakily walked towards a tipped-over table and picked it up.
"It's like it's made of cardboard," he exclaimed before tossing the table to the side, creating a loud ruckus and startling Jake.
"Don't make so much noise," Jake snapped as he covered his ears, which were ringing from the racket.
As his fingers rubbed over the sharp, unfamiliar ridges, his eyes widened in shock, and he quickly traced the contours of his face. His jaw was long, sharp, and pronounced, while his nose had changed into something akin to a snout. If he looked anything like Mason, which was a safe bet, he now looked like a mix of a human, a reptile, and a dog but more refined. He started inspecting the rest of his body but was distracted by a soft gasp.
Next to him, Mason had his trousers pulled outwards, looking down with wide-eyed fear.
"Holy shit... That will need some getting used to."
Worried, Jake opened his trousers and looked down.
"Are those armor scales?" he muttered, slightly horrified, staring down at his pride and joy.
With a shiver, he turned to look across what remained of the coffeeshop's second floor and made eye contact with Mason.
"Why would we need armor down there?" he asked, swallowing.
Mason shuddered and sat down on a table, which creaked dangerously under his weight.
"I don't want to think about it right now. How do you feel?
Jake took one last look, then closed his pants and flexed his arms.
"Good. Stronger, faster..." he trailed off, impressed with the size of his arm's biceps. It wasn't much bigger, but the muscles were far more pronounced than before. After a second, he put them down and tried to take a few steps, noting how odd it was again. It took him a moment to figure out what was wrong.
"Try moving a bit. It's peculiar, and I can't feel the sole of my feet. Wonder what that's about," he said.
Mason had been flexing his own arms, which like the rest of him, were far bulkier than Jake's were. Not surprising as he had always been like that.
Mason raised a leg and looked at the underside of his foot, then tapped them with his nail. "Fuck, more armor plating. What are we? tanks?"
Jake moved around a bit, balancing with his arms and tail.
"Jake… You have a tail..." Mason whispered, staring spellbound at Jake's rear before grabbing behind his back. His eyes widened, and he tugged something, revealing a tail of his own. Before he could say or do anything else, he stumbled and fell like someone kicked out his legs from under him.
Staring at the ceiling, Mason blinked. "Mental note to self. Don't tug your tail, or you fall over."
Another crash came, followed by a very unmanly giggle.
Mason facepalmed. "You never believe me..."
A scream pierced the air, and they both tensed up reflexively. They shared a quick, frightened look, then scrambled to the window, by force of habit stepping around the glass shards on the floor.
Before they could find the scream's source, they were stunned by the changes to their familiar surroundings.
In the distance, high-rises were half gone or missing entirely, and only large plumes of smoke rose into the air where they used to stand. The square in front of the coffee shop was a mess. Cars had flipped over or were partially buried inside the rubble of a crumbled building, while a hole showed where the below-ground car park had been breached.
The roads that led away from the square were split apart, and everything was overgrown by bushes, vines, and fungus as if hundreds of years had passed in the blink of an eye. Except, the cars and buildings looked as they had yesterday, without rust or wear of time. One enormous tree dominated the center of what used to be an empty square lined by coffeehouses and shops.
"Jake, look at the sky," Mason said as he prodded his friend.
Jake looked up and saw something he had only seen in sci-fi movies.
Next to the sun, which seemed unchanged, was an enormous red moon.
"We aren't in Kansas anymore..." Jake whispered.
Mason barked a laugh. "Lame… that's something I wanted to say."
Another scream echoed, quieting the two friends. It lasted longer than the previous one, and a dangerous vibe hung in the air.
"Shit. I guess this isn't some fairy tale," Mason said wearily.
"That sounded like someone in trouble. What do we do?" Jake asked, his voice shaking. It wasn't that he was terrified, just afraid. The thing that had him shaking, though, was a powerful surge of adrenaline, unlike any he had ever experienced.
"Look at us. We have claws and teeth and can lift cars. So what are you afraid of? Let's see what's going on," Mason raised a shaking fist, holding it outstretched towards Jake, trying hard to mask a shuddering breath.
Jake took a breath and exhaled deeply before forcing a grin on his face and bumping Mason's fist.
"You're right. Let's go."
--
They stumbled out of the room—Mason in the lead when he suddenly tipped forward and flailed his arms and tail.
"Woah!"
Reflexively Jake caught the swinging tail and held on tight, pulling backward. As if by some instinct, he sunk his claws deep into the wooden flooring, securing enough grip to keep his footing as he kept Mason's considerable weight from a plunge forward.
Waving his arms around, Mason was staring down towards the rubble.
"Hey Jake"
"Yes?"
"The stairs are gone."
"You think I'm blind?" Jake snapped, irritated as he held onto his friend's tail, leaning back to stop them from tumbling over the edge.
With a solid tug, he finally managed to pull Mason back, and they both fell on their ass. Sitting on the ground, he was just about to say something when Mason jumped up and looked down. His eyes showed a familiar glint, almost glistening in the dark, and Jake felt his mouth go dry. He knew that look!
"Think we can jump? I think we can jump… Let's jump," Mason said as a devilish grin came to his kobold face.
Not waiting for a reply, he jumped down. He landed on his taloned feet, and the floorboards cracked and splintered but held. Using some new instinct, Mason managed to keep his balance with his tail.
"Hahaha, we can jump!" Mason sang as he danced around, doing the fist-piston, a silly grin plastered over his face. Below his feet, wooden debris was cracking and splintering, but he didn't seem to notice.
Jake facepalmed, wondering why he even went through the trouble of dragging him back up in the first place.
"Seriously… Move over so I don't jump on your head!"
Mason stepped aside, stretching his arms to present the empty space. Jake grinned as he watched his friend's silly antics then jumped down, effortlessly landing on his feet. His eyes widened in surprise. His feet didn't sting, and his legs didn't buckle, both weird. What really surprised him was that he had jumped in the first place. There had been no worry of breaking something or fear of the height. He decided to jump, so he did.
"Hey, Mason," he said as he looked up.
Mason was frozen in place, his head cocked. "Do you hear that?" he whispered.
Jake stopped dead cold; any joy he felt moments before vanished. For a moment it was quiet, then he heard the sound of running coming from one of the streets behind the coffeehouse. Muted and dull, it was far away, and he knew he shouldn't be able to hear it. But he could Immediately after, another scream tore through the silence, softer and with less strength than the previous two.
It held such hopelessness that it made Jake's blood boil.
He grabbed Mason's arm and rushed out of the door, ramming the doorpost with his shoulder. Outside, the last rays of the sun highlighted the destruction even more, and they froze for a moment. Jake shook his head before looking around. His mind was both sharp with anger and fuzzy from rage, an odd combination that made it hard for him to think.
To the side, leading to the main shopping district, was a small alleyway, miraculously untouched by the chaotic destruction.
Jake didn't have to say what he wanted, as Mason followed him towards it with an angry snarl on his face. Within moments they were running forward and quickly realizing they would need a lot of practice. Mason cursed under his breath as he repeatedly slammed into buildings, and Jake was having considerable trouble staying on his feet, slipping and sliding across the slippery stone.
They slowed down at the end of the street and crept up to the exit. The footsteps had stopped not too far, and they could hear shouting and laughing.
"Can you make out how many there are?" Jake whispered, a bit of fear mingling with the rage.
"Do I look like a dog? I can only tell there are more than two," Mason hissed back.
While they were whispering, the laughter increased in volume, and it had a nasty ring to it. Unintelligible voices were talking, and then a young voice screamed, followed by another burst of laughter.
Jake's blood boiled as his rage flared up, and something inside him desired, no, forced him to go and help. He tried to push it down with the last of his common sense, but it grew so fast that he felt his feet move of their own accord.
"Damnit, let's go!" he growled as he ducked around the corner, closely followed by Mason.
In front of a partially collapsed building was a group of small humanoids with large pointy ears and mottled yellow or green skin. Their baggy clothes seemed a few sizes too large, and their pants were rolled up over their dirty, bare feet. They had cornered something that was huddling on the ground and were kicking it relentlessly. Blood was pooling on the ground, creating an eerie sight.
"There's eight. We can take them," Mason snarled in a low and dangerous voice. Then, without even waiting for a reply, he rushed forward in an ungainly gait.
Jake growled deep in his throat, the rage flaring up even brighter, and he ran after his friend.
--
"You should have chosen the same race as the rest of us! Didn't you hear what the president said? We need to stick together. Do you think you're special? You're not! There isn't a place for those who want to be different! Now we will have to kill your sorry ass so you can join your family in hell," a slightly larger goblin shouted.
He stood slightly behind the others, speaking in a horrible fake posh accent, an evil grin on his ugly face. Spittle sprayed between small curved and yellow teeth as he spoke.
The other goblins moved in for the kill, laughing and screeching, seeming like the perfect examples of their race, even if they had only become them mere hours ago.
Goblins, Jake thought as he felt an intense desire to strangle the lot of them.
He squashed it, glaring as the goblins kicked with renewed fervor, and picked up a nearby trash can. As heavy as it looked, he lifted it with no effort and hurled it towards the goblins. The gray object flew through the air, completely off direction, and bounced against the wall, creating a loud racket.
Jake growled in anger at his failed throw but was glad to see the goblins turn to him and stop kicking. Their eyes widened, and he grinned maliciously, guessing they must be surprised at what they saw: a couple of scaled reptile monsters, struggling not to trip as they scrambled and lurched towards them.
Mason seemed to agree as he snarled at them, showcasing a row of vicious-looking teeth.
Jake grabbed a broken road sign and threw it towards them like a spear, intending to distract them. His aim was much better, and although he missed again, he almost impaled the first kobold in the back.
The goblins stumbled back in shock, sharing worried glances. Deep inside, below the burning furnace of rage, Jake hoped they would run away. Then Mason stumbled, barely keeping to his feet, and a couple of goblins burst out in laughter.
Behind them, the leader started yelling.
"Don't stand there like little pussies! There are only two of them. You five, go and bury them next to the others. The rest of you finish the brat, then go and help!"
The goblins shared a menacing smile, their yellow eyes gleaming, then moved to the caved-in shop entrance. They grabbed stones and pieces of metal before stalking forward. Those who had to stay seemed disappointed and started kicking the silent form on the ground again.
Ahead of Jake, Mason heard the leader's words and burst forward with a surprising burst of speed, colliding into a startled goblin. He barreled the goblin down then started slashing around with his claws, his eyes on the bleeding shape on the ground.
The goblins quickly got over their surprise and laughed, shouted, and hit him. Each time Mason jumped forward to grab one, the goblin nimbly jumped back, and the others rushed in with bars and bricks. Getting hit in the side of the knee, Mason staggered, and a shocked look crossed his face. The goblins yelled as if in victory, redoubling their efforts, trying to batter Mason to the ground, their baseball bats thudding into his back.
Before they could succeed, a loud screech echoed through the street. The goblins turned and stopped as they gaped at their leader, dangling in the air with a scaled hand around his neck.
"Back off, or your boss gets it!" Jake yelled, his voice shaking a little and cursing himself for his cliche remark.
His insane anger had subsided enough for him to realize the mess they were in. His heart was racing, and he was praying the goblin turned humans would stop and listen. At the same time, he was conflicted. He didn't really want to kill anyone, but something inside him was telling him to strangle the pesky goblin- rip out its throat. The goblin was glowering at him, using its hands to hold onto his wrist.
Mason ignored what was happening and struggled forward, swaying dangerously and bleeding from multiple wounds. Seeing blood run from his friend's face, Jake felt his anger surge up again, instantly drowning out his common sense. He turned to the goblin, growled, and squeezed harder, causing the leader's eyes to widen, almost popping out of their sockets. Fear began growing in the goblin's eyes as he gasped for breath, scrambling at Jake's fist to free himself.
Barely holding back the desire to snap the thing's neck, Jake turned to the other goblins, raising an eyebrow.
The goblins looked at each other as if unsure of what to do. Then they backed up a bit, giving Mason time to scramble towards the still cowering shape, where the other goblins had backed up, glaring at him.
As Mason bent over, he saw it was a blue kobold child, shaking, shivering, and bleeding from many wounds. The only thing that had saved her was her thick, scaled skin. With a growl of anger, Mason picked up the little child and shakily made his way to Jake, wincing every time his weight landed on his right leg.
"Good thinking there," he whispered. "I kinda got carried away there. Should have waited for you," he croaked as he cradled the child. He couldn't keep his face from contracting in pain, and he felt blood dripping along his cheeks. He stepped behind Jake, watching the goblins for any sudden movement.
"You think? Damnit, I'm the one who does things without thinking," Jake said, knowing it was bullshit.
He'd not been able to stay put for much longer himself. A quick look at the girl in Mason's arms caused him to swallow as he took in the bruised and battered face, blood streaming from cuts.
"Is she.. dammit, let's get out of here," he hissed.
The goblins had been paying close attention and were circling them, trying to cut off their retreat.
"Stop moving!" Jake growled as he raised the struggling goblin higher, squeezing even harder. He tried to look menacing, but he could feel his arm begin to weaken. The intense anger was still bubbling up, but the strength it granted wasn't limitless. He wouldn't be able to hold up the goblin much longer.
"We will leave, and you will let us, or you will need to find another leader," he said, glad at the growling reverb his new vocal cords added to his meager threat.
The goblins stopped moving, sharing uncertain looks until one stepped forward. He was perhaps a little taller and was missing his left eye, a deep, ragged crater in its place.
"Perhaps we don't mind another leader. Have you ever thought of that?" he said, his voice rough, grating, and... wrong.
The goblin let out an eerie laugh as he looked at the others beside him, his eyes flickering between them.
Jake swallowed and tried to calm his stretched nerves. His arm was beginning to lower, and he knew he wouldn't be able to keep up his power move much longer.
"You might be right. But then after this guy gets it, I will make sure I'll kill you second," he said, trying to look as menacing as he could, opening his mouth and pulling back his lips as far as they could to snarl. He felt a dull rumbling in his chest, and he let it out, causing a low and dangerous growl to burst from between his razor-sharp teeth.
The goblins froze midstep.
Jake tried hard to hide his own shock, seeing Mason looking at him from the side, mouth hanging open in shock.
The loudmouthed goblin swallowed, looked around, and finally nodded when he saw none of the others seemed eager to fight.
"Fine, leave. We already killed most of your filthy kind anyway."
Jake's eyes narrowed when he heard the goblin, while beside him, Mason gnashed his teeth.
The one-eyed goblin looked at their still captured leader, who was glaring back at him with cold eyes. He looked around, a bit of worry creeping upon his face. The three goblins who had previously agreed to his insubordination inched next to him, staring at their leader anxiously. The one-eyed goblin straightened his back and glowered around.
"Alright, let's get out of here. We need to clear our turf," he said, ignoring the other goblins and the leader.
Jake and Mason watched as over half of the goblins walked off, occasionally swinging their makeshift weapons in a blustering show of force. The ones that stayed behind were waiting and looking between the leaving goblins and their leader; uncertainty edged into their faces.
"Let's go inside a shop, then throw him. With any luck, he will break his neck," Mason whispered, backing up towards the nearest shop.
Jake followed him, holding the goblin in the air with the last strength he had in his arm. As soon as he stepped across the broken door frame, he grabbed the goblin's leg with his free hand, spun around, and threw the goblin using all his strength, aiming for the canal that separated the shopping street. He barely completed the move without falling on his face but fumbled the throw. The goblin fell short, slamming into the ground before rolling against the remains of a car.
The leader roared as he rolled to his feet and looked at the now-empty shop entrance. He cursed and beckoned the others to come over.
"You two go around the building! The rest follow me!" he screamed as he stalked towards the building, picking up a broken pipe along the way while grumbling.
"I am going to finish that little reptile. Think he is all that because he is a bit bigger? I will rip his legs off and keep him around as a pet to eat the garbage and shit from the ground."
A few minutes later, the lead goblin exited the other side of the building, meeting up with the other two, who were empty-handed.
"Where did they go?" he hissed, grabbing one of the others.
"We don't know, Anthony. They must have been faster than us and ran off," the other goblin replied in a young and shaky voice.
The leader hit the other goblin square in the face, knocking him over.
"I told you not to call me that anymore! I am Orcslayer. And did you see how crappy they walked? How could they possibly be faster than us, moving like that?" Anthony-Orcslayer screamed in frustration. He jumped towards the fallen goblin, kicking him repeatedly in the face.
The other goblins quietly watched, none daring to interrupt. When he finally grew tired, he turned and walked away.
"Pick up the idiot! We need to hurry and find Dirk, that backstabbing bastard before he takes off with all our loot."
--
As the goblins walked off, a pair of eyes watched their every move from the second floor of the shopping building. Seeing the goblins disappear, Jake let out a pent-up sigh of relief. He felt himself turn a bit faint.
Why the hell did we just rush in there? he thought as he looked at the ground between his feet.
He'd been so angry, furious, and resentful, but now all he knew was that every fiber of his body was telling him he did the right thing.
When he was about to get up and return to Mason, something moved in the shadows of the street. Fearing the goblins had doubled back, he froze.
A large black-furred animal walked out of the shadows towards the spot the goblins had been standing.
It resembled a giant cat if it had two extra limbs, was the size of a large dog, and had teeth the size of daggers. It sniffed the ground and licked up some of the goblin blood. Then, in a flash, it disappeared in the direction the goblins had walked off in, so fast Jake could barely follow it.
Jake waited again, praying nothing else would show up. When a few minutes had passed, he slumped back against the wall and took a few deep breaths. His heart was racing, and he almost expected to hear the screams of the goblins as they were slaughtered by something even more vicious.
Nothing happened, though, and as he prayed that some monster wouldn't find them as they slept, he snuck away.
Comments
Carrarn
Holy moly - the first version of Minglings was really, really in need of a rework. I think I rewrote almost all of the old chapter and added 1000 words.
