Chapter 16: Ch. 15 – The Haunted Manor

One thing about having several tiny legs spitting out of you in all directions: it is very difficult to maintain speed.

Momo had broken into a sprint as soon as she saw the zombified mass limp towards her, but she quickly slowed to a halt when she noticed that it had barely moved a yard from the doorway. It was as if someone had attached doll legs to a lump of dough. The limbs failed to integrate, and impeded motion more than aided it.

Momo watched as it rolled one of its many ankles with each step, groaning as it tried to right itself. It wasn’t going anywhere fast.

Still, she wasn’t going to take any chances. She quickly cast [Bone Dance] again, black magic shooting from her palm and piercing the flesh of the gelatinous monster. Its rolls of ghoulish skin and fat undulated, the bones inside it starting to spin.

There we go, she thought proudly. Thank God, because she was already out of Mana. [Bone Dance] seemed to be a higher level spell than the rest of her grimoire, and it sapped the entirety of her reserves in just two castings.

To Momo’s horror, the beast was completely undisturbed by the bones stirring like tornadoes within. The flesh glob seemed to be more gelatin than man, so its own bones moved through it like a chef’s hand through a bowl of dough.

Momo inhaled sharply, considering her options. Her mana was regenerating slowly, and even then she lacked any offensive skills outside of [Bone Dance]. She could task Dusk with attacking it, but she wouldn’t risk putting the cat in harm’s way.

She could just leave, and hope someone else would take care of the beast when they discovered it limping towards town.

Just as she was about to pack up her things and make it someone else’s problem, she saw a man’s head frantically pop out of one of the high bay windows.

“Kill it! Kill it with fire!” he screamed, “use every spell you know!”

Great. Momo sighed. A whole entire damsel in distress, just what she needed. He looked the part, too - fine clothes, a princely crown atop his head. Jewels lining his blouse and sleeves.

She cleared her throat, “I’m sorry sir, but I’m not powerful enough!”

“I can’t hear you!” he yelled. The glob of flesh turned its metaphorical head towards him, cringing as if listening to the squawk of a dying bird.

Momo cleared her throat again. She wasn’t used to speaking at a volume higher than an ‘I don’t actually want you to hear me’’ whisper. The last time she screamed was probably the day she was born, and even then her Mom had told her to be quiet - a hospital was no place for yelling.

She took a deep breath in, summoning the audacity she had as an infant.

“I cannot kill the blob!” she enunciated with all of her might.

Momo’s voice felt immediately hoarse. No more talking for two days, she decided.

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