Poisonous Fox

We continued through the ravine, or better called perhaps a canyon, between two cliff walls. The space was narrow, and the cliffs formed of columnar basalt with several broken chunks occasionally providing ledges part way up. With the cliffs reaching at least a hundred feet upwards, the lighting was dim, and visibility somewhat compromised. Rather than attempt to climb, Nick chose the easier path, treading along the path at the bottom of the ravine.

Naturally, I followed him. Better than leading the way into potentially dangerous terrain, certainly.

And the terrain was dangerous, at least treacherous. The canyon floor was at an incline, and it was shadowed and dark. The path of the canyon was curved and meandering as well, which served as another difficulty for scouting.

As we continued, Nick continued to express a keen interest in combating a monster or a foe. However, despite our grim surroundings, we had yet to find any monsters. But, if Nick was convinced we needed to fight, then I supposed I could go along with him, at least for a little bit longer.

So long as he went first. And I had the option to flee.

It occurred to me, that if we failed to come across a foe for Nick to fight, that he might turn on me as the next best thing. While that might have been unlikely, it still came as a possibility. One I very much wanted to avoid. To prevent this, I needed to demonstrate value to him. I considered different ways to provide this, and I finally settled on a possible solution.

“Let me see if I can climb the walls to get a vantage point,” I offered. If I could scout the way ahead, even by a fraction, then our passage would be safer. I would also measure how easily it would be to escape, should it be required.

He nodded, though he never took his attention fully off what was ahead.

I got a running start and jumped at the wall, grabbing some of the cracks in the stone and wedging a foot in. I managed to climb a few more feet before my wrists started aching, and my left tattoo burned just a bit. Startled, I jumped back down and landed in a crouch.

“Problem?” he asked, somewhat amused.

“Yeah, my tattoo flared up.”

“It changed?” he asked.

I shrugged and decided to check. I pulled the arm back out of its sleeve. It was my left forearm, the tattoo with the ‘Blessings,’ Body, Mind, and Spirit. The spiral glyphs with Body had grown just a bit, almost a tick. As I read it, once again, I felt that alien interpretation slot into my brain. It was growing familiar.

Body: 11

It had been ten the last time I saw it. I had gained one, just from that activity. If it kept rising like that, then I should be able to rack up the points easily.

“Well?” he asked impatiently. “What changed?”

“My Body score went up by one.”

He pursed his lips, likely from envy. “That wasn’t what I was asking. Did you see anything?”

I shook my head. “I was unable to get that great of a view. I could try again?”

“Don’t bother, at least not yet,” he said. “I’m sure Thanatos wouldn’t have put me down here if there wasn’t anything to practice on–” his eyes lingered just a little too long upon me. “Let’s keep moving forward.”

Not ten minutes later, we found the end of the canyon so to speak. Not that the canyon stopped, but that a small lake of black bubbling sludge stretched wall to wall, and went far too long for me to even consider climbing along the walls to skirt around.

“Dead end,” I said. “Perhaps there are no monsters here.” I was getting ready to bolt, should he decide that I would be that hostile encounter. With his larger frame, I hoped he would struggle to navigate the cliffs. I just needed a head start.

He scoffed, and muttered something that sounded like a curse word. But then he continued speaking. “There’s definitely something here. I have Life Sense, remember? And I feel something ahead.”

He picked up a rock and tossed it into the pit. The rock sat on the surface where it landed, before slowly sinking downwards into the tar.

“I can’t imagine anything… lives in… that,” I said. The fumes coming off the pit burned my nose and I could taste it fouling my tongue.

“Maybe,” he said. “But I bet we can draw it out. Worst case, we waste some rocks and time.” He picked up another rock, and tossed it further out into the pit.

“That…” I trailed off. It just seemed unrealistic. If some monster lived down there, the worst case would actually be much much worse. Even if it was something besides a monster, most creatures responded poorly to people throwing rocks at them. But saying any of that would do me no favors. So instead, I finished saying, “-that sounds reasonable.” As I said that, I took several steps back.

“I just–” he threw another stone in “-have this feeling–” he picked up a particularly robust stone, lifted it over head, and threw it as far as he could into the tar pit “-that I’m meant to fight whatever’s in there.”

A few bubbles, smaller than the others, popped near where Nick was, maybe a yard off-shore.

I took another step back.

“Uh… Nick?” I prompted. He ignored me.

“It’s hard to explain,” Nick said. And then he stopped. I supposed that he failed to consider me worth the hassle of an explanation.

The bubbles were popping right at the shore now. A small tendril began growing up and out, dripping tar. Was that a tentacle?

“Finally,” he said, noticing the tendril reaching for him. “Watch and learn–” and then in a moment of uncharacteristic wisdom, he added, “-but be ready to step in to help.”

“Might be able to get a supporting Talent,” he added under his breath.

Perhaps not wisdom then, but greed.

He made space between him and the slimy black appendage as it gooped towards him, drawing it out further and further from the pit. When he made it about five feet away, the tendril was joined by a second.

Without a physical weapon handy, he surveyed the ground around him, until he found a large stone. He walked over to pick it up, before making his way back towards the monster. A third tendril had joined the other two. A larger bubbling mass was rising up from the tar pit, about where the tendrils were rising from.

I unsheathed my knife. It was a simple tactical blade I had picked up from… somewhere. The blade had a serrated edge, a hook, and a sharp edge about as long as my hand.

The bubbling mass continued to rise up from the tar. Its body was slimy and black and dripping animal remains, including what looked like humanoid dog bones, a nearly articulate skeleton held together by sinew and ligaments. The thing had to have been the size of a loveseat. At least. I was having some reservations about Nick’s plan.

“This thing be a bit much,” I said, offering Nick a graceful way to back down from the fight.

“We can kite it along,” Nick said. “This is a perfect opportunity. Don’t go backing out now. We’ve got this.”

He tossed the heavy stone down at it while backstepping, to maintain distance.

I kept at least twenty feet between me and it. I had no idea how fast this thing would be. I doubted that a slime monster would be fast, but then again, I really was lacking solid data on their normal behavior.

The stone Nick threw hit the slime and sank in, seemingly causing no effect. Not even a ripple along the oozing atrocity’s slick skin.

The–the thing–continued crawling its way out, carrying itself forward with tentacles. More than eight. It dragged itself forward. Throwing tentacles ahead of it, grabbing the ground, then pulling itself forward.

Relentless, but fortunately slow.

“I… I don’t know that we can fight this–this thing–this ooze,” I said, finally settling on something to call the thing. An ooze. It felt descriptive of it. A black tar ooze, about the size of a volkswagen. I wished Nick would get smart and back away from this thing. But he still acted with the false certainty that he could kill it.

“Granted, maybe not with rocks. But if it can’t regenerate, we can whittle it down. Now how to use our spells… ideas? Let’s brainstorm this. No bad ideas.”

Was he not taking the ooze monster seriously? For that matter, should we have maybe done that before we found the ooze? Regardless though, it was a good idea, and better late than never.

“You could try calling the spell out by name,” I offered tentatively. I was thinking of some form of colorful entertainment, or medium, but I had no exact memories to rely upon, just a fog of assorted feelings. It felt right though.

“That would be idiotic,” Nick said bluntly, crushing my idea.

I meant, sure, it was a dumb idea. And now I was feeling a little defensive. “It is only a suggestion,” I said.

“Well… I might as well try it anyways,” he grumbled, before shouting and holding forth his hand, pointed towards the ooze. Grandly, he announced, “Claim Life!”

Something imperceptible streamed off of the ooze monster and flowed towards Nick. It almost looked like a mirage, or the pavement on a hot day. It lasted for several seconds before petering out to nothing. The ooze shivered, but otherwise appeared unaffected, continuing its trudge towards us, while we continued backing up the incline, away from the tar pit.

He groaned. “I cannot believe that worked. But now for the accounting and forecasting. That spell lasted for approximately five seconds,” Nick thought out loud. “Not the best. But I assume it will get better with time. You should try your spell too.”

I gave him a speculative look. I had one spell. One. I had never used magic before, I was still unsure that magic even existed. And even if it did, my sole spell was something titled ‘Illusion.’ While I was sure it would offer all sorts of great utility, but in regards to attacking a monster with it? I remained unsure.

“Well?” he asked. “You’ll have to try it out sometime. Might as well use the voluntary participant.”

An interesting turn of words. I might not have considered the ooze to be a volunteer. But he was right about one thing, we did have a participant. It would be solid to get an idea on how my spell performed.

It was just… I did not know how to use it. Illusion seemed much more complicated than whatever Claim Life did.

As I pondered, Nick took his eyes off the ooze to check on me. He smirked before turning his attention back on the monster crawling after us. Another tentacle had slapped onto the hill near us. We backed up. The ooze pulled itself forward, matching our leisurely retreat.

“It’s not as easy, huh?” he asked, mocking my performance. “Try focusing on something while saying the word.”

That must have been what he did. This time, I tried holding the twisting turning glyph steady while I whispered, “Illusion.”

It popped out of me. What it was, unknown.

I felt something flow.

It lasted a few seconds, but then was gone. All too fast, and I was left feeling a bit out of it. It was hard to put my finger on, exactly. My nerves felt less than they were. The world felt less. It was not exactly my cup of tea, but I could probably see how someone would pay for that feeling.

“Was that it?” Nick asked. He was glancing my way again as he walked backwards, keeping distance from the ooze.

Another tentacle came down, still feet away from us. The ooze continued to drag itself forward, leaving a slick trail of sludge in its wake.

“Didn’t do much,” I said. “And it felt weird.”

“Interesting…” Nick said, clearly thinking out loud again. “You were surrounded with a haze for a bit there, almost a shadow. You have Illusion magic, so you need to focus on an effect. What do you want the world to see?”

Since when was he an expert on magic, let alone my magic, which was different from his? But still, he might have a point. Illusion is a fairly broad term, and I felt the complexity behind just the glyph.

“Are you able to try again yet?” he asked. “Or did you burn yourself out?”

The feeling of deadened nerves had passed. I felt a bit recharged. Either that pool of mystic energy was tiny, or it refilled fast. Or maybe something else was going on entirely. I was no scientist.

Once more, I focused on the rune, with the intent of creating something. But what? I wanted to damage the ooze, to contribute to the fight. But Illusion was not inherently capable of damage. I knew this instinctively, just like I could read the glyph.

While I could not inflict direct damage though, I could convince entities that they were damaged, or trick them into damaging themselves. I was unsure if it would work on the ooze though. It did not look like that much of a thinker. In fact, I wondered if it even had eyes, or a brain.

Regardless, I would try.

Holding an image over the ooze, keeping it visualized, I once more whispered, “Illusion.”

A flame flickered to life over the ooze’s trunk, near where several of its tendrils met the rest of its body. The flame was about the size of a basketball, but I felt that if it were closer that I could make it bigger. I was only able to keep it up for about five seconds before I once again exhausted myself.

Not to be outdone, Nick joined in, “Claim Life,” he said. Though notably, his chant had no effect. No heat haze stretched out from the ooze to him. His brows pinched together in irritation. “Cooldown, maybe?” he thought out loud. “But yours worked…”

Once I finished, I felt a similar burn on my left arm, similar to when my Body increased. I rolled my arm out from my sleeve to check.

Body: 11

Mind: 12

Spirit: 11

I had gained one more to both Mind and Spirit, for whatever that was worth.

Nick turned to look at me, his brows pinched even tighter than before in a frown. “Did something change?” he asked. He came over to peer down at my arm. I explained the stat difference as I put my arm back away. “I think…” he trailed off as he tapped his foot and nodded to himself, “that your second tattoo grows with you, and is likely improving whatever pool your magic draws from. Now the question is, how can I get one of–”

All of a sudden, his eyes opened wide, before he glanced down at his legs.

My own eyes tracked the movement, and I let out a horrified gasp.

A black tendril had found its way around Nick’s leg while he had been distracted.

He had been mothersworn caught!

“Fuck,” he said. Trying to pull back. The ooze was stronger than it looked, the tendril not breaking or stretching. He ended in an awkward position, using his arms and remaining leg to try and get space, but the tendril held fast, and seemed to tighten. Smoke rose from the slacks where the ooze touched.

We needed to get him free.

I slammed my knife into the tendril.

But while I moved, another tendril whipped forward, this one aimed at me. Just barely I leapt back, landing in a crouch. When it missed me, it carried on and slapped around Nick’s leg, joining the first tendril.

Where the black sludge touched his skin, smoke began pouring up, the cloth of his slacks blistered. My nostrils were assaulted by a horrendous smell, like a formaldehyde soaked steak barbequing on the grill.

Nick cast, “Claim Life!” Again and again, but it only worked once out of three tries. His fingernails tore on stones as he pried one loose and bashed his own leg, trying to smash the ooze off. But it only pressed the slime further into him. He screamed in pain.

I dove back in, both hands wrapped around the hilt of my knife. My knife hit the sludge and sank into the first tendril. But rather than severing the appendage, the sludge flowed around the blade, rejoining itself. I slashed and swiped, a mad fury.

The bulk of the ooze was coming closer, pulling itself along in an inevitable avalanche of tar. A third tendril shot forward, again aimed at me.

I threw myself to the side, rolling over sharp stones and gravel.

I felt a familiar burn on my left arm at the same time, not that I took the time to check.

Body: 12 (+1)

Every little bit helped, but now was not that time. I jumped up from my roll, and resurveyed the battle.

The ooze was both dragging itself forward and Nick backwards.

Nick had fallen onto his rear and was kicking and scrambling for any sort of weapon or foothold while chanting his spell. He found another rock, this one sharp and jagged flint, which he now brought down on his thigh, attempting to sever the limb. Rancid blood spilled out, smelling of rot. How he thought the stone could break through his femurs, I knew not. I doubted he was doing much thinking at all at that point though.

I needed to do something, anything! Clearly he was out of ideas, if he was trying to cut his leg off with a rock. And the ooze was still climbing upwards, with another tendril smacking down on him, this time around his calf.

More sizzling.

More screaming.

I gagged. But I had to press on!

I threw rocks at the ooze, but just like when Nick had thrown them, they had no effect.

“C’mon!” Nick shouted, “Claim Life!” A haze almost flickered into life, but still nothing. “Fuck! Throw me your knife!”

No. My knife was mine. I felt an overly strong sense of attachment to it. It was mine. Not his. He could keep his flint rock. I would keep my knife. But there was no time to delve into the why’s of my own psychosis. I needed to get him out.

My spell? Yes… my nerves had evened out, and I felt I had something more to give in that internal pool of energy.

“Illusion,” I shouted.

Flames formed over the tendrils, nearest Nick.

The ooze flinched and paused for a fraction of a second, but nothing else changed.

“Your knife!” he screamed. “Get me your knife!”

“Use your spell!” I shouted in return; I absolutely did not give him my knife.

There had to be something I could do besides throwing away my knife. It was literally my only weapon, unless I had something else hiding in my pockets. I gave myself a quick pat down. There was something in my inner lining. I felt at it before realizing it was just my lockpicks. And those, those I would not part with either.

But why did I have those? Not the time.

Nick let out another scream.

Definitely not the time.

A bit of haze finally kicked in as he got Claim Life to work.

The ooze shivered and froze where it was. This was our chance. Before his spell finished, I jumped in with a slash at the tendrils holding him. The knife parted through one of them, causing the tendril to fall flaccid, severed in half. The fraction closest to the ooze began retracting into it.

Nick’s spell was still going strong.

I swiped at the next tendril, there were two left to cut through.

Nick shouted again, the heat haze dissipated. Another tendril shot out at me, grazing my tail as I twisted away. I felt a searing heat as the ooze ate through my tail fur and into my skin. Before it could form a better grip, I tore away and made some space, keeping Nick between me and the ooze.

He was going to die. Mothersworn fool! This was all his fault. But–

“Fine! Take it!” I shouted, finally coming to a decision. I slapped the knife into Nick’s hands. “You better give it back!”

“Shi–Fuaaa–” Nick Screamed in a high pitched wail.

His slacks had completely dissolved, revealing dissolving flesh, blood and worse flowing out from the torn skin whenever the ooze lost a fractional grip. And as though that were not bad enough, black rotting veins seemed to be spreading up his legs from the wound, but veins that squirmed beneath his skin.

He took the knife and bent double, sawing at the tendrils, scraping against his own bone through careless strokes, not that I blamed him.

Meanwhile, I tried pulling him up and away. My left arm burned again.

Body: 13 (+1)

I looped my arms under his armpits and pulled him back for all I was worth, but the tendrils were far stronger than they should have been, and while I was able to pick him up, the tendrils had leashed him to the larger ooze.

“Thi–this hurts so fucking bad!” He shouted, continuing to stab at his own legs, harming himself just as much as the ooze was. By this point, his legs were trashed. But I could not just give up and allow my ally to perish.

What else could I do?

I had an idea, a foolish one perhaps, but it was the only thing I could think of.

Focusing on my glyph, my tattoo, for the spell Illusion, and the effect I wanted–no, that I needed–to achieve.

“Illusion.”

Mist coalesced into a form just before the ever encroaching pile of ooze. At first, I was unsure it was going to work. But I could still feel the energy flowing out from me. This had to work. The mist coalesced further, compressing into a humanoid form. The ooze paused. I could feel its attention begin to focus on my illusion. But no, it still was not enough. I needed it to do more, to be more!

I pushed everything I had into this. I felt something give way, some intrinsic barrier that I had not even realized had been there, blocking my path. My left arm ached!

Mind: 13 (+1)

Spirit: 12 (+1)

The mist coalesced further into a blob, not completely opaque, and barely a human shape. If a person squinted their eyes, and if they had cataracts, then perhaps the Illusion would be convincing. But still, it might be enough. I strained my focus as I moved it towards the ooze.

Take the bait! I thought.

The ooze paused for a split second, as though perceiving new prey. It sent a tendril exploring forward, towards the Illusion’s trajectory. I pulled the Illusion back. It had no momentum and turned instantly, accelerating one way, then another. The only limitation it had was one of my mind.

The ooze paused again, seemingly taking time to consider, to calculate. It must have realized that Nick had been maimed, that Nick would fail to remain aloof for long. But the new shadow was fresh prey, and the shadow hung just beyond tantalizing reach.

The ooze sent more tendrils after the Illusion.

I pulled it around, dancing between them.

The last tendril holding Nick released in an effort to entrap the Illusion.

Once the ooze had released the real Nick, I hastened to pull him back, further away from the ooze. My mystic pool was just about empty.

The tendrils passed through and broke the Illusion just as it ran out of juice.

During that time however, Nick and I had gained several yards. As I dragged him up the rough stone slope, he left a trail of blood and oil wherever his raw bones and calf muscles, scraps of sinew and skin really, touched against the ground.

He was feverish. Delirious. He groaned from the pain. Sweat beaded on his forehead.

“Make it stop,” he groaned. “Make it stop!” he cried.

The ooze almost roared, except it sounded far more flatulent. It began pulling itself after us, easily following the trail Nick had left.

I continued pulling us back.

“Stop!” he shouted. His eyes opened wide, they were almost all white. “I’m dying! Shit Fuck! It was not supposed to be this way! I was blessed by Thanatos himself!”

“We’ll get through this,” I told him, trying to calm him down. Though he was probably right. The black veins had yet to abate, and I could even see them starting to climb up his neck.

“No no no!” He shouted, spittle flying from his mouth, rotten spittle, with little flecks of green in them. “It’s not fair, it’s not right! I deserve this. I deserve it! Claim Life!”

The haze once again formed around him. I expected that he was attempting to heal himself, to keep the worst of the venom, or whatever the fuck was eating him at bay. I expected that he would target the ooze, who was continuing to dog us, though we remained a safe distance away. What I did not expect, what caught me by surprise, was instead of the haze reaching out towards the ooze, it reached into me.

I felt hot and cold and sweaty all over.

He was casting his spell–on me?!

The haze stretched from his chest to mine.

He threw back his head in a pained moan, though perhaps less pained than before.

I felt weaker, feverish, and I was forced to drop him or risk tumbling to the ground myself. Before my eyes, the veins stretching up his neck began to thin and retreat.

But it was not enough. Or at least, I thought it was not enough. And apparently, he agreed.

“More. Need more!” He shouted.

“Mother take you!” I shouted at him, shoving him away. Or trying to. My limbs were weaker than before, and I had already been weaker than him. I stood no chance in a physical confrontation.

“I deserve to live!” he shouted back, spittle hitting my face.

I had fallen back on my own backside, while he tumbled a little down the slope, dropping my knife in the process.

His spell ended.

My left arm continued to burn, it had never stopped. I seemed to be consistently increasing as my tattoo grew, but that was all at the back of my mind.

Body: 14 (+1)

Spirit: 13 (+1)

I felt awful, weak, and in need of a nap, but this psychopath idiot of a man was scrambling for my knife that had fallen between us. I started reaching for it as well. It was a race of invalids. Him, suffering all manner of blood poisoning and wounds from the ever encroaching ooze. Me, suffering from whatever damage his spell had wrought.

The knife had fallen closer to him, but I was faster. I was almost to it when his knuckles sealed around the hilt.

“I have worked so hard to get where I am!” he spat. “I won’t lose to some entitled brat. I will not die again. I refuse! Claim LIfe!” he shouted.

The familiar haze started to form once again, stretching from him to me.

“Illusion,” I whispered, encasing his head in black fog, too thick to see through.

Meanwhile, his spell, the haze, stretched out from his chest, towards where I was. Even if he could not see, he still knew where I had been just seconds before.

I fell to my left, his Claim Life spell kept on track, passing through where I had been but no longer was. His spell hit nothing.

“Why’m I not healing?!” he shouted. “Why can’t I see?!”

The ooze finally caught up to us.

I watched grimly as tendrils wrapped around his chest, sizzling through his silk dress shirt, beginning to eat into his shirt.

I could only imagine how terrifying it would be, to be blinded, to have that acidic, caustic ooze beginning to eat through his chest.

And the entire thing had been preventable!

He had to go pick this fight.

He had to act recklessly!

Well, just because he would die, that did not mean that I would lose that which was mine.

I dove in, clumsily, and grabbed his hand, peeling his knuckles loose from my knife. I caught it as it fell. I perhaps grabbed one other item from his wrist.

“N–Argh!” he screamed.

My Illusion ended.

He stared up at me, his eyes wide, fear somehow evident within those flaming blue orbs. His face a rictus of terror and pain.

“-help-” he cried.

It was hard, but I deafened my ears to his cries.

I scooted back from him, gaining elevation as I resheathed my knife. I watched grimly as the ooze pulled him backwards.

He thrashed and struggled, but it was all to no avail. He begged for mercy. He cried.

I could not help him. I would not, even if I could.

His back hit the bulk of the ooze, and he began sinking into the ooze’s flesh. Sizzling as it slimed up and burbled around him.

“N-noo… I… I don’t… no…”

His face disappeared into the oozing bulk.

The skin of my left arm felt too tight.

Body: 15 (+1)

Spirit: 14 (+1)

But the pain was the least of my concerns. While Nick had asked for it, while he had turned his spell against me, wounded, weakened me… he had just died. Hard. And had I acted differently, maybe that would have played out differently.

It was not… not a great feeling.

Blessed by ___

Blessings: Rank (1/9)

Body: 15 (+5)

Mind: 13 (+2)

Spirit: 14 (+4)

Talents

Open (9/9)

Closed (1/9)

Closed (1/9)

Spells

Illusion (1/9)

Closed (0/9)

Closed (0/9)

Gifts

Obsession (1/9)

Closed (0/9)

Closed (0/9)