Vanya's Story, Chapter 22, part 2 of 3
The journal continues.
I lay trapped on the ground beneath the weight of several gorlaks, unable to move. The beast charged, and I was sure it was the end, looking into my foe's large, overbearing yellow eyes as it came.
But it never reached me... instead, it erupted in a mass of entrails and blood, severed cleanly in half. Gore splattered my face, and everything seemed to quiet as its lower body stumbled forwards, bouncing, rolling with inertia, legs flailing, spilling guts and organs at my feet even as its upper half spun in the air above.
With a sickening squish, the upper half landed atop its lower body, and the halved eyes stared at me glassily as the corpse seemed to deflate, sinking to the floor in a pile of misshapen flesh. The gorlaks around me moved away in surprise, freeing my limbs, and I leapt to my feet.
"Get DOWN!!" someone roared from behind me. I reflexively threw myself out of the way and into a corner. I heard a whir, and a screech of metal - across the room, a row of gorlaks exploded messily, their shredded faces gaping as they crumpled to the floor. When I spun in the direction of the sound, I saw someone I'd never thought I'd be grateful to see.
Mr Frog stood in the entrance to the moonlit cave, wearing a grim, menacing expression, and carrying a huge weapon that looked like a tall "T". From his chainmail quiver he pulled a foot-long metal bar, slamming it down firmly on the weapon with a reverberating clang. With a multitude of clicks, the bar expanded, spiraling into the shape of a serrated disc, and it began to spin... faster, faster, faster, until the air itself seemed to scream as its toothed edge sliced through. The gorlaks were almost upon him, and then, with a screeching whir, it shot forwards, sending gorlak blood and limbs spraying in all directions as their bodies flew apart. I saw the blade strike the far cave wall with a screech like chalk on a board before it exploded, sending shrapnel everywhere.
I looked quickly back towards Mr Frog where he stood, his cape billowing, fluttering majestically behind him in the wind from his weapon. He caught my glance and narrowed his eyes at me. "Just stay out of the way," he growled, scowling in hatred and disgust at the twig-legged creatures that charged him en masse.
Another bar slammed down, spiraled, spun, screamed through the masses of gorlaks as they imploded everywhere, and still they charged - another bar, another shot, and again, again - limbs left bloody smears as they flew against the walls; sliced tusks rolled and spun about the ground, tripping up the few creatures that were still alive.
I was so distracted I didn't notice the gorlaks that were charging me until it was too late.
"YAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" I heard Urist yell as he leapt up the wall nearby, firing his weapon down onto the heads of the gorlaks as he ran in my direction atop the gems and crystals that protruded from the stone. Another whir, another slice - Mr Frog's weapon obliterated another line of gorlaks, spraying gore and innards.
"Are you all right?" Urist yelled out to me as he landed to my left and knocked a charging gorlak backwards with the butt of his weapon.
I could only bring myself to nod, wide-eyed at the chaos around me. Gorlaks were running in all directions, no longer out of hatred of our intrusion, but in blind fear.
Mr Frog approached us rapidly with furrowed brow, his cloak billowing behind him as he pulled his hat back into place upon his head. "Stupid, stupid girl..." he muttered, "what have you gotten yourself into?" Then, louder, "Both of you, come with me," he ordered. "You've attracted Ballpoint's attention, and we must leave this place now." Saying this, he turned and left through the entrance to my left.
I felt Urist grab my hand, and together we fled the crimson pool, headed back towards Spearbreakers.
"Sus the Second and a few other dwarves are working to distract the Ballpoint soldiers," Mr Frog informed us as he led us briskly through the dark, shining a flashlight to light the way. "Vanya, you've really gotten yourself into trouble this time."
"I wasn't meaning to," I managed after a moment. I was still somewhat shell-shocked from all the bloodshed I'd witnessed. "I had a memory... I had to see if it was true..."
Mr Frog stopped and spun, shining his light in my eyes as he peered into my face. "Define 'memory'," he said slowly, leveling an icy gaze.
My mouth opened as if to speak, but I couldn't make a sound. I did hear far-off footsteps in the cave, though.
The scientist heard them, too. "Bah," he muttered. "They come quickly. We''ll discuss this later." Saying this, he continued forwards towards a wall. Upon reaching it, he pressed his hand firmly against it, almost as if testing the sturdiness of the rock, but then it began to move... The edges of the wall seemed to glow faintly with a bluish light as a greenish circle formed on the floor, casting an eerie gleam around it. It wasn't long before the wall had completely disappeared. I glanced over at Urist to see his reaction, but was disappointed to find that there wasn't enough light for me to tell anything.
"Come," Mr Frog said, switching off his flashlight and motioning for us to follow.
He led us forwards for several minutes, through dim tunnels lit only by hanging bioluminescent moss. Stepping on it extinguished the faint light the moss created, and I soon found myself carefully stepping around it. Mr Frog didn't seem to care, continuing at his usual brisk pace.
"I sincerely regret that you commandeered such an ill-advised receptacle for your Ballpoint weaponry," Mr Frog spoke, shattering the stillness. "That was a ridiculously imprudent decision, Urist. A wisely chosen storage facility is conveniently located and accessed without complications in dire emergencies. Moreover, you've moronically decimated one of my more recent biological experiments."
"Those were your gorlaks, then..." Urist said. He sounded almost accusing, and I don't blame him. I was angry myself.
"Of course, you harebrained dolt." The insult rolled coolly off the scientist's tongue. "Any line of hypothetical reasoning differing from that is preposterously nonsensical. How else would I have known to bring my prototypical serrated disc launcher? It's only half-finished... I regret that its firepower is as yet underwhelming, but it cannot be helped."
I gaped at Mr Frog's back in astonishment as we continued walking. "That was a prototype? 'Half-finished'? It slaughtered those poor creatures!" I paused for a second, confused by a new thought. "Why were they attacking us, anyway?" I'd always believed that gorlaks were peaceful.
"I was instilling aggressive tendencies in them through selective breeding processes. But it is irrelevant now - the experiment was a failure. And that was your fault, stupid girl." He sent an icy glance in my direction as he continued onwards down the tunnel.
Urist glanced over at me, his face barely visible in the dim, blue-green moss-light. I couldn't meet his gaze, and looked away, feeling my face grow hot.
Mr Frog halted abruptly, turning back towards me with a suspicious stare. "And what was the occasion of this idiotic midnight escapade? What 'memory' was it that you had?"
I didn't want to tell Mr Frog I'd killed so many Ballpoint agents... I didn't remember anything about it other than that memory, and I hadn't even known about it until tonight. It hadn't seemed like it was me, either. I felt the little gorlak doll in my blouse. I remembered the terrified look on the little girl's face, and I felt my throat tightening. "I don't know..." I whispered.
The stare deepened to a piercing glare. "You... don't... know..." he intoned slowly, scratching his beard. "I seriously doubt the feasibility of that statement."
Urist spoke up beside me. "She's been through a lot tonight," he began in my defense. "Perhaps if she -"
"Excuses!" Mr Frog said, holding up a hand to signal Urist to stop. "It is insufficient to explain this thoughtless bumble. Now, you... Stupid, stupid girl..." He turned to me, speaking as if the words were acid on his tongue. "Memory. Explain. Now."
My lip trembled. I was seconds from tears; I didn't want to cry in front of either of them, and I especially didn't want Urist to know the extent of what I'd done.