Chapter 122: Chapter 122

The ground wobbles and shakes as the hissing from beneath the meat, as the screech of the wailing calliope grows louder and louder, as the dungeon shakes. Ruptures begin to tear through the landscape around us, the serene grassy hills now peeling away entirely as the scab is ripped off. As it bursts off, pushed away from the incredible pressure from below. Wet, ripping sounds rip out through the forest as the trees in the distance are uprooted and fall over, their many deeply burrowed roots ripping out of the flesh of the floor and taking chunks of meat up with them, as they collapse over sideways. Their exposed blue, veiny roots twitch and lash out through the air like tendrils, as they try to reach out to burrow back into the meat.

 

  The hero-party in front of us is closing ranks and trying to figure out what’s going on. There aren’t any trash-mobs left, apart from myself, but that’s because that phase is over. The sub-boss fight is initiating now. Looking back I stare at the thief-girl who is still very much indifferent to all of these happenings. Feeling my glance she looks up and waves with a happy smile to me and then just points forward again. I feel like it might be a little late for us to be looking for those stairs, but sure, you’re the boss.

 

  So I turn and walk further onward past the hero-party. A voice calls out as we pass, the hero’s. I bet he’s probably saying something like ‘don’t go off on your own’ or ‘stay here with us’. But the thief just turns and waves him off with an indifferent tone and we venture off further down the way. What an odd relationship the thief has with the hero-party. She seems to be part of their group socially, but she’s always running off doing her own thing. I suppose they don’t remember as much of it as I do, since they reset every time. But humans sure have strange social dynamics.

 

  All the while, as we leisurely stroll down the way, the world continues to rumble around us. The music of the millers calliope growing maddeningly quicker and quicker with each pass of the loop, as the world descends into chaos. Trees fall left and right, the few odd flowers left around to see in the distance are lashing and thrashing out wildly in all directions, screaming and crying as the boiling froth fills their tendrils and veins and cooks them alive from the inside. I pick up my pace, fearing the worst. I don’t want to get eaten by the floor which I can feel wobbling in hungry anticipation of all of this new meat. All the while though, the thief is just sitting on my back and humming to herself. Not a care in the world. I go faster, now going from a trot to a gallop as I hurry forward. I want to get out of here.

 

  We round the next bend, past the rainbow. For another moment I think again, are we going to go up it now? But we don’t. We just keep moving. My gallop has turned into a run now as we dart through the forest. Jumping over fallen trees and limbs, as I maneuver through the wood without stopping, the agile thief holds on to me with little difficulty as I evade the crumbling debris from above. Just as we reach the end of the forest, just as I see the bridge come into sight. Just as I see the familiar door of the miller’s mill, I hear it. I hear a single, long pained groan ring out from behind us. From in front of us. From everywhere all at once.

 

  Every gaping orifice and hole and tear in the meat below us lets through the sound from below. The anguished cry of the thing beneath. Sweat glistens over my thin fur, the heavy droplets running down my legs and washing away the stains of blood that splatter up against me, up to my knees with every step as my hooves cut into the ground. She points over the bridge and I waste no time in going there, eager to get as far away from the center of the floor as I can. It’ll be here any second now.

 

  But where are we going to go? There’s only the miller’s mill and the real staircase down left now. Neither of which seem like good options here. Rainbow water surges and rushes below us as we cross over the bridge and I spare a moment to glance down. The once calm, babbling brook has turned into a heavy, rushing current that carries all manner of viscera and goo away. The rainbow water is filled with meat. Filled with blood and eyes and scraps of hands and goo. All of it floating away from the chaotically churning mill, the blade of which is spinning so fast and so wildly now that I fear it’s going to break off and spiral away. All the while the music just keeps playing. The miller just keeps playing his tune faster and faster, louder and louder now as the world goes to hell.

 

A hand touches my back and I stop. The thief jumps off and walks over to the door. Wait. Stop! I step forward as she knocks on it. Don’t go in there! Don’t go into the mill! You’re still be-!

 

“Yeeeees?” coos out a familiar voice as the door squeaks open.

 

  The thief lunges inside the darkness of the mill. The door slams shut behind her and I run towards it a second later, smashing my weight against it. It doesn’t budge. Screams ring out from inside the structure and I step back and lower my horn and smash forward again. All I hear are wet sounds and more screams as the mill churns, as the thing beneath the ground comes to wakefulness, as the calliope pipes and squeals and plays its song over and over and over and over. I smash forward again, wondering why I feel so… protective? Wondering if the red I see is from some gunk that got into my eyes.

 

  A thick, sickening snap vibrates through my body like that sensation you get if you break the cartilage in your nose. A deep nausea overcomes me as my freshly healed horn breaks off in the wood of the door. Turning around, I ignore the feeling and rear my legs, kicking out once with both hooves behind me with all of my strength. The door shakes. The music stops. I kick again. There is a crash as it flies inward. In horror I turn and look ahead into the darkness at the red mass of meat in the shadows. It rises up slowly and turns to face me. Deeply cardinal, wide ghoulish eyes look at my panicking expression and the thing lurches towards me. The…

 

Oh.

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  As it comes closer to the light of the door, which seems to be creeping in further and further into the mill than ever before, I see the once green silhouette of the thief walk towards me. She is covered in blood from head to toe, the dagger in her hand drips with a dark, black-water ooze that leaves a trail behind her as she walks towards me looking like a fresh zombie.

 

Reaching me, she places a single hand on my broken horn and rubs my head with a worried expression. I’m not sure if she notices that she’s smearing blood all over my white coat. But it’s probably too late for that now anyways.

 

What’s with that look?

 

  Averting her gaze, I look behind her and see the body of a long, ghoulish man who is now shredded to bits, sitting at the side of the room against a wall. The room has nothing in it. The darkness inside dissipates further and further revealing several pipes that run along the walls, coming up from the ground and rising high up towards the top of the mill. In the center of the room is a hole. Just a single pit covered in red smears and scratches all around the rim.

 

Looking one last time at my broken horn, she walks back into the room and grabs the body of the miller beneath his arms and tosses him down into the hole.

 

  Grinding, wet crunching sounds ring out through the room as his body is slowly turned into goo. Wet splatters of black-water spray out from the hole with violent force, spraying against the walls and us. Covering us in the miller’s blood as the many teeth and tendrils down there tear him into a fine paste that mixes in along with all the rest. Only sparse bits of him will escape the mill. Only the odd piece of fabric and his eyes will float down the river. The creature doesn't eat the eyes. They float down the river. They go to another place…

 

  The sickening crunching stops. The world shakes again as something happens outside. Some great, ancient scream as the creature below tears through the surface. Ripping open the meat of the floor by the hero-party as the violent birth commences. Forcing itself out, sending blood and bile everywhere all around it as it screams and lashes out at the new world it has been thrust into. The lulling melody of the miller, now ceased, no longer soothes the creature into sleep. It’s too late. We’re gonna die.

 

  Wet, meaty squelches ring out as pieces of long, toothy bone shoot through the red, squishy floors. Tearing through them as the new teeth grow in with violent force. One after the other they rip through the red ground and create a line, a spiral as they run along the edge of the inside of the mill. As they line up to create a single, upwards leading staircase that is made out of the razor teeth of a giant.

 

The thief stands there, covered in blood and goo and flashes me a bright smile. I can’t help but notice that it’s the only thing in this room that is clean. The only thing here that isn’t covered and tainted by black-water and blood. The only pure thing left among us.

 

A single smile.

 

 

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