Chapter 95: Chapter 95

The collective vibration of the squeaking mischief of rats above me rings out in a unified symphony, the high pitch of their conjoined voices creating a distinct vibration that is different from any of the machinery, that is different from any of the heavy hammering and thrusting of the heavy foundry pumping the black lifeblood of the dungeon through its many pipes like veins from a thrashing heart. It is ominous, unanimous as the hundred and then some tiny voices come together in agreement over something I am unable to understand. As if some question had been posed by the first squeak, a question that all of the rest had then answered at the same time all at once.

 

  Not sure what else to do, I keep moving forward. I keep sloshing along on my own, carrying with me only the accompanying agony of my existence outside of the black water. I feel uneasy, watched. I can tell they are all still there, watching me. Waiting for something… for an opportunity? To do what? Attack me? No. Why would rats attack me? They’re trash-mobs too.

 

Then again I think the rat-queen was mad at me.

 

  Actually, now that I look back on it, she had a really short fuse too. Kind of like the thief, but uh, more angry? Yeah, she was a lot more, uh… temperamental. Not as happy-go-lucky, you know? Ah. I think she took that one life of mine personally. Then again, she didn’t really give me a chance to explain. But I get the feeling she isn’t really the type of person who cares about explanations. Seems like she’s made her mind up and that’s that.

 

  Ah. Awkward. Do you think she’s mad because she found out I wasn’t really a rat and I sat on her lap? I guess that was sort of a personal space deal again. We have a lot more of that than I thought down here, now that I stop and think about it at least.

 

  Wait. Was that a creepy thing to do? Am I a creep? Damn. I think I might be a creep. Sorry dark-lord, I’ll try to do better for you in the future. I swear I’m not trying to be a per-

 

  A single, high-pitched pulse shoots out before me catching me off-guard. The single ring which I can’t hear, but which can identify just by the sensation of it appearing before me.

 

The hero-party is here. My menu just popped up to warn me. Damn.

 

Wait. Oh. Oh no.

 

  I stop as I feel my goo touching the pane of glass before me. As I hear the aggregation of tiny murmurs so far above me. Of tiny whispers so far above me. Of excited tiny eyes that saw my secret shifting and absorbing all there is to see. Quickly I swipe the menu away. But it’s too late. They saw it. They know. Already now I hear their scampering as many of them leave, as many of them fade away like lightning vanishing into the night sky after a passing storm. As they scatter to scamper-scamper, all of them vying to be the first one to… to… uh… oh.

 

Oh boy.

 

To be the first one to tell the rat-queen what they have found.

 

  A vague, blurry memory of a piece of purple cloth being held out by the hero returns to my mind’s eye. A piece of tattered cloth her bored eyes looked over as if it was something she had seen a thousand times before. The purple. The purple just like my own.

 

  They’re going to tell her they found the purple. It was the menu. It was me all along. The hero-party is looking for purple menus. The rat-queen is… she’s helping them? Do they have some kind of deal? I guess so, it sure looked like it. I squish forward, moving faster now. Almost all of the eyes are gone, almost all of the feet and the vibrations are gone. Only a select few remain, those who know they couldn’t win the race to begin with. They stay in hopes of finding out something else, something worth more than just the menu.

You are reading story Respawn Condition: Trash Mob at novel35.com

 

  Thoughts of the hero-party being here make me nervous as you can quite obviously understand, guy. Thoughts of the thief-girl who is probably already on this floor, making her way straight towards me. The thoughts of those soft leather boots striking the stones as they come up to me, of those wide eyes as they stare at me, all of those thoughts make me uneasy. Everything is going wrong, but I’m not even quite sure how. Does the rat-queen knowing I have a menu hurt me in any way? I don’t know.

 

  What will she do with that information? Wait. If I die, then it won’t be an ooze anymore that has a menu. It will be whatever I am next time. So… what’s the worst that could happen even if she knew which trash-mob I was? She’ll tell the hero-party I have it and they kill me? Like they have been doing forever anyways? This is a no-lose situation for me.

 

So what am I worried about?

 

What am I worried about I repeat again in my mind as I slosh forward, still uncertain of where I am going. Wait…

 

Wait.

 

  She saw my purple? Like the… like the fairy… of… uh… the water…? You know, pond-fairy. And like the uh… fairy-mother, if she counts. Like… wait, can the thief-girl see my purple too? My aura?

 

Is this…

 

  My mind races. The thief can track me because I’m on her friends list for some reason. Which seems a little one-sided since she isn’t on mine but hey. But… she can also see me without using her menu, so that means…

 

  Does that mean she can see my aura too? Like the fairies? Do the fairies have menus? Menus with friends lists that I’m on? Hmm. But fairies can see everyone’s aura, I think that’s what pond-fairy said at least. So… no, no, that’s not it. Unless they have literally every trash-mob in the dungeon on their list. Damn, I thought I was going somewhere with that one. Guess it was just a ramble. Hmm.

 

Maybe they’re not connected after all. Maybe it’s two different things? I don’t know.

 

  Something is bothering me though. Some nagging feeling. Some uncertainty that scratches at the edge of my mind, with every wet slosh of my body moving forward, my slop slapping the ground out before me. Reaching, touching, feeling for any vibrations in the bleak space. In my home. With every second of the eyes staring at me from all around. There is something that makes me uneasy.

 

Some odd sense of déjà vu as I crawl forward, dragging myself along over the filthy ground.

 

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