Ethan waited for just the right moment before unleashing a whirlwind with his ax. He spun around, the weapon blade extended in such a way that he turned into a human-powered blender. He made his stand between Sharpe and the undead horde, letting bits of horrible flesh scatter out before him.
The Ghoul King took a large step towards them, an angry scowl imprinted on its indistinct features.
“I can’t hold him anymore!” Sharpe cried out, his voice strained. He tried chanting some more mage-gibberish, but it was too late. The boss monster was upon them.
Ethan transitioned seamlessly from hacking apart undead minions to making huge slices in the Ghoul King’s ankles. Each blow he landed drew a scream from the monster’s pale, skinless lips. The minions still came at them in relentless waves, so he had to redirect every third blow to the accumulating monsters. Sharpe sent balls of fire into the crowds of undead beasts and large spikes of solid ice into the Ghoul King’s chest.
When the moment was right, Ethan activated one of the few magical abilities he had. An aura of blue-green started to surround him as he grew about a foot in height. A bit of magical fire wafted out of his eyes as he focused every attack on the weakened Ghoul King. The buff gave him the strength to hack into the huge creature’s dead chest. The Ghoul King shrieked, but it was too hurt to flee or strike back with any kind of force.
“One more hit!” Ethan shouted to his friend, his enchanted ax embedded deep into the boss monster’s sternum. He pushed down hard on the weapon’s long handle like it was a lever and pried the wound open. Through all the rotting flesh and blackened blood, the Ghoul King’s heart was exposed.
Sharpe lifted his palm and started casting the biggest fireball yet. With a shout, he sent the magical orb of fire into the Ghoul King’s chest, engulfing its heart.
The creature let out one last, hideous howl before it collapsed to the dungeon floor, dead. The smaller ghouls who were still trying to protect their leader turned into ash as the Ghoul King exhaled its last breath.
Ethan and Sharpe stared at the dead monster with stunned expressions. Then, after almost a full minute of shock, they erupted into triumphant cheering.
“We did it! We killed it!” Sharpe shouted. He couldn’t help but grab his friend by the shoulders, jumping up and down. “Almost nineteen years, but we did it!”
“Good casting, friend,” Ethan said, a big stupid grin on his face. “He never stood a chance.”
“Thank God we killed him, though,” Sharpe said. “I didn’t realize that I was on my last life.”
“Oh, come on, that just adds to the fun!” Ethan commented. “Though, I’m glad you didn’t dissolve in the middle of the fight there.”
“Me too,” Sharpe said.
They were both beaming at each other as the dungeon around them darkened and faded away.
“There’s no way anything out in the real world is that exciting,” Sharpe said.
“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see,” Ethan replied.
Patrol
“You can never tell which ones are gonna run,” Abenayo told Tera as she waved a dismissive hand to the beggar who sat with his open hand outstretched toward them. He frowned and lowered his gaze to the dirt while they walked by.
They had no destination and they were in no hurry. Tera found patrol to be one of the most boring experiences in her short life. Coupled with the fact that they were stationed in Slumside and only had the dirty, down-turned faces of the ghetto dwellers to greet them, patrol was one of her least favorite parts of the job.
“You always think you can tell, but you never know until right before they do it,” Abenayo continued. “There’s about a two-second warning. A little flutter in their eyes that tells you, ‘I’m gonna run.’ Still, you can’t tell going in. I’ve seen people run from a traffic citation, yet seen murderers stay cool as a cucumber. After all these years, that little flutter is the only way I can tell.”
“Stupid choice on their part,” Tera commented. She lifted her leg to avoid a strange puddle in the road. She couldn’t tell if it was urine, dirty water, oil, or… something else. “They should know that disobedience is the one sure way to secure a ticket to the labor camps. If anything’s going to break them, it’s that.”
“They think they can get away with it,” Abenayo replied. “That’s why they run. They’re gamblers. In their head, they have better odds of running from us and getting no charges than surrendering and getting light charges. They’re always wrong, of course. The arrogance of a dwindling race, I suppose.”
“I don’t know how dwindling they are,” Tera said, looking around. “Seems like they multiply down here.”
“Nah,” her partner said. “This is just where they all end up, eventually. We’re just seeing the remnants. Give it another generation and they’ll be an endangered species.”
“Would that be good, though?” Tera asked.
Abenayo looked over at the rookie with a sideways glance.
“I think so,” she affirmed. “They’re all animals, anyway. Their existence only slows things down. Keeps society from advancing. I dunno, Alvarez, this is a bit too philosophical for me. I just do what I’m told.”
“They don’t seem to be going down without a fight,” Tera commented, “if they’re going extinct at all.”
Abenayo chuckled a little.
“Everything wants to preserve its existence,” she said. “Even the weeds in the cracks of the street will do anything in their power to stay alive. It doesn’t matter, though. Nature doesn’t care what the weeds want. It moves on without them. It’s normal to see the humans fight back when they’re cornered, like frightened beasts. Or — as we’ve seen today — run like scared little animals. It’s amusing, really.”
Tera said nothing as they walked two blocks down the pitted and filthy road. At the next intersection,
