Clicking Crustaceans, Clattering Dice
By: Robert Pettus
Sage, riding atop the back of her trusted giant wolf-spider, Creep, nocked an arrow and loosed. She fired again and again into the blackness. She couldn’t see her target – not even her goblin eyes could pierce through this unnatural darkness – but she knew it was back there, somewhere; she heard it bellowing – its ancient, clicking guttural voice reverberating off the claustrophobic, circular walls of the black cavern like grating sonar.
Creep continued scurrying along the side of the cave wall. Sage wouldn’t fall – Creep knew that; they had ridden together since Creep was big enough for mounting. Creep was only two years old; Sage wasn’t terribly older than that, herself, but they were tightly bonded. They were a team.
“Brace yourselves,” came a grouchy, high-pitched though still somehow bass voice from the floor of the cave. It was one of their companions, Roscoe Tosscobble – a halfling wizard. He pointed his twisted glass staff, which was twice the length of his body, at the emptiness. Their other companions – Mobis Lunabrow and his trusted hyena, Yipping Bitch – formed a pathetic attempt at a shield wall in the face of the emerging blackness. Putrid, unnaturally shifting heat wafted out from within the deep.
A fireball emerged swirling from the end of Roscoe’s staff. Mobis unsheathed his two-handed broadsword, which was possessed by the paranoid, sleep-deprived spirits of an ancient crypt found on a previous adventure. Yipping Bitch snarled, her slobbering snout quivering. Sage nocked another arrow. Creep readied herself for whatever was about to emerge from the deep.
“Okay, roll for initiative,” said Avery.
Dice clattered around the surface of the antique wooden dining-room table. One of them fell to the floor below.
“Reroll that one, said Avery.
“But it was an eighteen!” said Jorge.
“Reroll it,” said Avery, “Rules are rules, goddammit.”
“Fucking two,” said Jorge.
“Twelve,” said Sara.
“A goddamn nat-twenty!” yelled Takahiro victoriously, standing from his seat and thrusting his hands in the air. In his excitement, he accidentally punched a hanging chandelier, shattering glass from one of the fake crystal lightbulbs across the table.
“What the fuck,” said Avery.
“I’ll clean it up,” said Taka, “But fuck yeah! A nat-twenty! This bastard is toast! Sage and Creep are going to light this thing up!”
“Guess you’ll have to wait and see what you’re going up against, first,” said Avery.
Sage held back the bowstring. She was an experienced archer – she had been shooting since she was two years old, back when she lived in the dessert of the wastes, back when she still lived with her clan – with her family. She had been forced out. She was too young for that, but goblin culture is brutal. Her arms were weakening – she was anxious to fire.
Out from within the blackness emerged a scurrying, clattering albino lobstrosity.
“It’s a Gargantuan Cave Fisher!” bellowed Roscoe, unleashing the held fireball swirling at the tip of his staff, "Kill it! Send it back to the deep!"
Sage loosed her bow, her arrow making first contact with the creature, piercing directly into one of its bleach-cloudy, vacant eyeballs. It seemed as if to not even notice. Sage nocked and fired again and again, but the creature continued its abysmal, clicking trudge. Yipping Bitch, leaping atop the cyclopean crustacean, snapped and clawed at the armor of its shell. The creature, barely noticing, shook off the spotted hyena. Yipping Bitch crashed hard into the smooth, ancient limestone of the cave wall, falling whimpering to the ground.
“No!” screamed Mobis, charging forward with his broadsword, swinging chaotically at the creature. He was confident, but he wasn’t the most skilled swordsman.
Sage fired again.
“Okay,” said Avery, “So it’s the lobstrocity’s turn to attack.”
“The fuck is a lobstrocity?” said Jorge, “I thought we were fighting a Gargantuan Cave Fisher?”
“We are,” said Avery, “but I’ve given it a different name. Lobstrocity, dude! Dark Tower! Stephen King! You never read that series?”
“No, dude,” said Jorge, “I fucking haven’t.”
“Well, this thing is a lobstrocity, and it’s pissed.”
Avery rolled several dice in to his square-shaped cardboard box, which was the front-cover box of a Carcassonne board game. He then glanced behind the shield of his dungeon master’s setup.
"Okay!” he said.
The lobstrocity looked up the wall of the cave, barely noticing Mobis hacking away at its slimy, abysmal colorless armor. Roscoe’s fireball, after spinning furiously around the beast momentarily, snuffed out. The lobstrocity appeared undamaged.
“Dum-a-chum?” said the lobstrocity, looking up the cave wall toward Sage and Creep, “Did-a-chick? Dad-a-chad?”
“What the hell is this bullshit?” said Jorge, “I thought we were playing D&D! And why is Mobis’s sword not doing anything?”
“Shut the hell up,” said Avery.
The lobstrocity crawled briskly toward Sage and Creep. Though it couldn’t climb the cave wall, it was large enough to reach the pair of heroes with its thick, snipping claws from the ground. The lobstrocity clamped onto one of Creep’s eight legs, hurling her from the wall across the cave to the adjacent limestone. Creep slapped the wall and dropped lifeless to the floor. Sage, though ejecting from her mount successfully, still fell to the floor of the cave.”
“Okay,” said Avery, “So Sage takes four points of falling damage.”
“All right,” said Takahiro begrudgingly, marking it on his character-sheet.
“And Creep… Let’s see here… Creep takes twenty-eight bludgeoning damage and three falling damage.”
“What?” said Taka, “Twenty-eight?”
“Yeah, dude. This lobstrocity is no joke.”
“Well creep only has fourteen total hit points, so she’s straight-up dead.”
“Oh, shit!” said Avery, “I didn’t realize I made the lobstrocity that strong! Well, anyway… rules are rules. Sorry for our friend, Creep. We’ll make sure to ceremonially burn her character-sheet in the fire-pit after the session.”
“What?” said Taka, visibly pissed, “How the hell is that even possible? That’s some straight up bullshit!”
“Rules are rules,” said Avery.
“Not when the rules aren’t fair!”
After Creep’s passing, the onslaught against the lobstrocity heightened exponentially. Mobis swung at the creature with renewed energy; Yipping Bitch awoke from the ground and continued her snarling, yanking grapple; Roscoe unleashed magic-missiles from his glass-staff, which pierced through the thick armor of the gargantuan crustacean.
Sage, at first in shock, became psychotically angry, loosing the last of her dynamite-tied, explosive arrows at the creature. The lobstrocity couldn’t handle this simultaneous barrage. It fell crashing to the floor, burping out a conclusive, stenchful musk; clicking its claws one last time before breathing its last. Its antennae continued feeling around at the wall of the cave, active even in death.
The fellowship, having realized the lobstrocity was slain, rushed to Creep’s lifeless body. Sage knelt to her trusted spider; her most cherished friend:
“She gone,” said Sage, sobbing.
Goblins age to maturity at just six years old, and Sage was already eight, but Creep was the only true friend she had ever had. She was unsure of how she could possibly continue. Sage rushed from the cavern out into the black of the outside forest. Her companions watched her go, unsure of how to provide appropriate comfort.
“Fuck this bullshit,” said Takahiro. “I’m out of here.” Taka rose from his chair and stormed out of the room.
"The fuck is his problem?” said Jorge, “Characters die in D&D all the time; it’s the nature of the beast!”
“Taka has only been playing for about a month, remember?” said Sarah, “It seems like only yesterday that we met him at the library, at D&D one-shot night. He was there playing for the first time, just to have a go at it. We don’t even know him that well, honestly. He might not be fully aware of how D&D works yet. Maybe he thought he was going to be able to keep Creep forever; maybe he was really attached to his character.”
“Yeah,” said Avery, “I can understand that. I get attached to my characters, too – but damn! That dude is pissed. Well, anyway… Let’s continue the adventure. We’ll assume our companions can’t find Sage – we’ll consider her found whenever Taka shows back up.”
Roscoe, Mobis, and Yipping Bitch continued into the depths of the cave. They had been triumphant against their crustacean foe, but their victory was at best hollow. One of their fellowship had perished; another had left them. Light emerged from Roscoe’s twisted staff, only barely splitting the ancient, magical blackness of the cave.
“This is the best I can do,” said Roscoe.
“Better than nothing,” responded Mobis.
Yipping Bitch, apparently unafraid of the darkness, darted ahead, sniffing at the perpetually moist walls of the cave. From up ahead, Mobis heard a repeated yip.
“What is it, girl?” said Mobis, pacing ahead to find his loyal hyena. He knelt to the ground where Yipping Bitch was sniffing, subsequently turning to look up at Roscoe:
“Look at this,” said Mobis, “It’s one of Sage’s arrows.”
“Yeah, so what?” said Roscoe, “It’s probably one of them that missed the lobstrocity; it likely flew all the way back here.”
“I don’t think that’s possible,” said Mobis, “We’ve walked too far for that. Plus, the cave has twisted and turned. There’s no way an arrow could have traversed those bends unless it were magic.”
“Sage doesn’t have any magic arrows,” said Roscoe.
“I know,” said Mobis.
“All right, guys,” said Avery, “We’re at a bit of a crossroads. This cave is going to take quite a while to explore, probably another couple of hours. We can either forge ahead – making it a really late night – or we can pick it up next session.”
“Fuck it,” said Jorge, “Thursday is the new Friday – let’s do it!”
“I’m down,” said Sarah, “Roscoe is ready to blast anything we come across!”
“Great,” said Avery, “I was hoping you all would be down for it.”
From outside there came a noise. A rustling in the bushes outside the window. The cool autumn breeze, which had been blowing in comfortably the entire evening, continued, though now with a new scent about it – something like body odor.
“God damn, that stinks,” said Jorge, “You think there’s a dead animal out there? A raccoon, or an opossum?”
“Could be,” said Avery, walking over to shut the window.
As he placed his hands on the window, beginning to shove it shut, a pair of arms reached into the room, out from within the blackness of the night.
“You fucking bastard!” said the invisible voice.
Takahiro’s head then emerged from the dark. He continued clutching at Avery’s torso, gripping tightly his flabby belly.
“Fuck, man!” yelled Avery, “That hurts! Cut it out – you fucking scared me!”
“Fuck you,” said Takahiro, climbing through the window back into the room.
“I thought you were leaving,” said Avery.
“I was,” said Taka, “But then I thought… you know what? This shit is some bullshit! You fucking cheated me; you cheated Sage and Creep. I’m pissed.”
“I’m sorry, dude,” said Avery, “I can’t control how the dice roll.”
Taka glared at Avery, snickering psychotically. He then reached behind himself, into the back pocket of his jeans, and pulled out a large, glimmering butcher’s knife. It resembled almost exactly the one from the Halloween films.
“What the fuck?” said Avery, “Put that shit away!”
“Found it in the kitchen on my way out,” said Taka. “Didn’t think I was actually going to use it, but you know what? I fucking am. I can’t just let people push me around all the time. So!” he said, waving the knife ahead, only inches from Avery’s throat, “We’re going to re-do this. I’m not going to let you fuck Creep over like that – not without some vengeance. Creep is my character – my creation! You can’t just destroy people’s art will-nilly like it doesn’t even matter. Now get over there! You’re going to do some more rolling.”
Continuing through the dark tunnel, Roscoe saw abruptly at the end of his magical light the shadowy, flickering silhouette of Sage.
“Sage!” said Mobis, “You’re back! We thought you had left for good.”
“I am leaving for good,” said Sage, “right after I take care of one last thing.”
Sage drew her short sword.
Takahiro rolled; the twenty-sided die clattered around inside the cardboard box.
“Even number, I kill you first,” said Taka, pointing the butcher’s knife at Jorge, “Odd, number I kill you, Avery. I hope it’s odd.”
Taka rolled a fourteen. Wordlessly, Taka paced over to Jorge and drove the knife into his stomach. Startled and wide-eyed, Jorge sank bleeding to the floor. He writhed and groaned pathetically as blood pooled around him. Taka laughed manically.
Sage glared at Mobis, then pacing toward him.
“What the hell are you doi…” before he could finish, Sage drove her sword into Mobis, who fell lifeless to the cave floor.
“You deserved that,” said Sage. “You helped your stupid little hyena, but you didn’t help Creep. You deserved that.”
Taka then looked to Avery: “Well,” he said, “I guess you’re next. Jiggling the knife in his hand, he stepped around the table toward Avery. “Roll again. Even number, I let you live. Odd number, I fucking kill you. God, I hope it’s odd.”
Shaking and sweaty, Avery rolled again. It was a nine.
Taka smiled big, his eyelids shaking chaotically. He walked robotically toward Avery.
“Hey!” came a shout from behind. It was Sarah. She was holding a .38 special revolver, pointing it at Taka. “Drop the fucking knife!” she said, her eyes fearful; her sweaty palms quivering.
“Stop!” said Roscoe. He was standing behind Sage, pointing his glass staff at the goblin.
“Fuck you,” said Sage. Without waiting another second, Roscoe unleashed from his staff four magic-missiles, which pierced the small goblin. Sage fell dead to the floor of the cave; her eyes wide, her sharp teeth bared.
“Fuck you,” said Taka.
Her hands still shaking, Sarah pulled the trigger, shooting Taka four times. As the rounds pierced him, he appeared to be grinning, subsequently falling to the ground dead.
The floor of the room was covered in blood. Avery fell to the floor, unable to fight off the crushing light-headedness accompanying the anxiety-inducing, murderous situation. Sarah knelt at Jorge’s body. His face was pale and lifeless. His stare was void. He had no pulse. Sarah began sobbing loudly. Her friend was dead, and she wasn’t fast enough to save him. Lifting herself from the floor, she grabbed the .38 special from the dining room table, gripping its cold metal tightly in her sweaty palms.
The chamber wasn’t empty. Sarah thought hard about it. If Jorge had to go, she had no business staying. Eventually fighting off this morbid logic, she walked back up to her mother’s bedroom, again storing the gun in its safe.
Avery, the screws of his mind loosening from their previously tightly gripped reality, sat staring, sitting on the floor of the dining room in the ever-spreading pool of blood. Sarah would comfort him, eventually, but she needed some time to herself – some time to collect herself.
Creep was dead. Mobis was dead. Sage was dead.
Roscoe, looking down at Yipping Bitch, collected the startled, grieving hyena and led her out from that ancient, dark cavern.
End
About the Creator
Robert Pettus
Robert writes mostly horror shorts. His first novel, titled Abry, was recently published:
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/abry-robert-pettus/1143236422;jsessionid=8F9E5C32CDD6AFB54D5BC65CD01A4EA2.prodny_store01-atgap06?ean=9781950464333
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