by Wolfe Locke
“Risky.” The man mouthed soundlessly in case John didn’t understand.
John shrugged his shoulders. It was the best plan they had. Once they were free, it would be three on twelve. A much more manageable number, even if the prisoners were unarmed.
If anything, John could lend one of them an axe, and they could find a suitable weapon for the other. There had to be knives around for cutting up the meat at least.
They would cross that bridge when they got to it. For now, John had to put his plan into motion. He got the sense that he only had one shot at this. If he failed, it would end badly for him and his fellow adventurers.
Steeling himself, John crept back through the kitchen on silent feet to retrieve one of the discarded bones. Don't store this.
This plan has merits. Using the weakness of an enemy to obscure and distract is resourceful. Though I wonder if these abominations of my brethren will be content with mere bone when fresh meat is so close.
With the bone firmly in his grasp, John returned to the cage. The faces that peered back at him were desperate but hopeful. Just how long have they been here? Were they on the quest too?
John held up three fingers, indicating that he was about to cause the distraction and that they should get ready. Don’t let me down here.
Two fingers.
One finger. I hope they're ready.
John wound his arm back to throw, and just then, there was a booming voice came from slightly far off.
It was not the sound of the forgotten god. This one was more guttural. Higher pitched. It came from behind a set of large wooden doors that dominated the right side of the kitchen, one of which was cracked.
The voice only spoke one word.
“MOREEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!”
He comes. The first of many to fail at a crossroad. Your fellows have made interesting additions to this dungeon.
Chapter 10: The Grisly Feast
* * *
With that one command, the unworthy descended upon the cage, and the two prisoners screamed. It was all John could do to get out of the way before the tide was upon him. The unworthy yanked open the cage, the rusted metal screaming in protest as the old hinges worked.
They fell upon the male prisoner with vicious ferocity. Yellowed claws on pale fingers slashed out at him. The man tried to fight them off but was largely unsuccessful. Instead, he was forced to cover his head as the blows rained down. Seeing the trouble he was in, the female prisoner shouted, “Leave him alone,” and rushed to his aid, trying to pull the unworthy off of him.
This is your chance. While the unworthy are preoccupied, you can slip away and leave these two to their fate. The door to the next floor will be open. I will open it for you. All you have to do is choose to let them die.
John ignored the newest voice. That’s not the kind of man I am. The commotion wasn’t the sort of distraction he had wanted, but the noise largely covered his movements. He lashed out with a vicious overhanded swing from one of his blessed axes. The weapon embedded in the head of the closest unworthy to him while the prisoners struggled to push back the horde that was upon them.
He could only hope the prisoners could last. Hold out for a minute. These unworthy seem to want to take you alive. The thought spurred him on.
The dying unworthy wasn’t the distraction that he had intended, but it was the one he would take.
The unworthy that John had killed fell to the floor, but as its body landed, another of the unworthy turned towards the sound and lashed out with a nailed talon that caught John square in the cheek.
That blow should have been next to nothing. It was delivered by a person who had no muscle what so ever, and who had been starving for gods knew how long, but it sent him flying and split his cheek open.
It didn’t come close to the strength of the minotaur, but it was still like being hit by a man of John’s own shape and size.
The woman had been similarly backhanded by another of the unworthy, and she now lay in an unconscious heap in the corner of the cage. The labored rise and fall of her chest allowed John to know she was still alive.
A small portion of the unworthy had broken off, no longer trying to drag the man out of the cage, and were now feasting on their fallen companion. There was barely any meat on the dead unworthy, but what they could devour, they did. They fell on the body just like they had the rat.
The man in the cage, for his part, didn’t give up. He fought tooth and nail against the unworthy with all of his might. He managed to send two of them tumbling away with blows to the face and body. But the damage that he was taking was starting to take its toll. Long scratches marred his face and arms where the wicked nails of the unworthy had raked his skin. He’s only lasted this long because of his training. My guess about him being a Paladin was probably right.
Bleeding as he was, tired as he was, and hurting as he was. The man soldiered on. Right up until the knife entered his chest and cut him open..
It hit him square in the heart. For a moment, the man still fought. His will was absolute, but he couldn’t overcome death. But it was too much, and he eventually went down under the sea of bodies. The knife was yanked out and plunged back in again and again until he lay unmoving.
You have failed to save my Paladin. You have lost my favor. I will not take the blessing I have bestowed upon you, not here, not in this place. But you will hear no more from me. I turn my back on you.
Only then did the unworthy take his body to the large chopping block next to the pot so that they could complete their grisly task.
John and the female prisoner lay forgotten in a stunned daze, the task of the unworthy to sate the hunger of their master taking precedent over everything else.
I need to move while I have the chance. John told himself as he forced his aching body to comply. He moved quietly. If they remembered that he was here, they might try to take him as well. He still had someone to save. Just because he had lost one didn’t mean that he would forfeit the other.
Luckily, the unworthy had not thought to close the door to the cage once more. John stepped inside as quickly as he could without giving himself away and began to tug the woman out.
Only after he had taken the woman out of the cage did he realize that they had nowhere to go. The only door open to them was the one that lead to that booming voice, which John assumed was the Gluttonous King the voice had told him about.
Still, they could not stay there in the kitchen. It was only a matter of time before the king demanded more, and there was nowhere in the kitchen for the two of them to hide. They would be found eventually, and they would face the same fate as the man that John could not save.
For the moment, though, the unworthy appeared to be distracted by making their gruesome meal. Piles of meat were brought to the simmering pot and dropped inside. The only other sounds were the clattering of bones as the meat was stripped.
John watched as the heart of the man was dumped into the pot, followed by the other organs. It seemed that the king was not picky with his food choices. It all went into the pot to be consumed.
Eventually, large bowls were produced by the unworthy, which were filled to the brim with the stew from the pot. A line of them brought the king his supper, and for the next few moments, they listened as the king slurped his meal.
The two of them dared not move for now. The movements of the unworthy throughout the kitchen were too erratic. There was too much risk of bumping into one and then being discovered. So, for now, they pressed themselves to the wall, waiting for an opportunity to present itself.
A few moments later, it did.
The unworthy had returned to their task of stirring the pot, occasionally adding more meat from the slab.
Then, something sailed through the door to the king and bounced across the floor.
A finger with bits of flesh dangling.
The unworthy descended
on it much like they had the rat. Fighting and punching and scratching each other in order to get to the tiny morsel that their king had bestowed upon them.
It was like watching a pack of feral dogs fight over a scrap that they had just been thrown.
It didn’t matter that they had just eaten one of their own. Their hunger, much like that of their king’s, was insatiable. They ate as if they would never have another chance to, because they actually might not.
Whatever the case, it was the distraction that John had been waiting for. He used the sound of the commotion over the finger to cover his and the woman’s dash to the wooden doors.
There, they beheld the majesty of the Gluttonous King.
Chapter 11: An Audience with Hunger
* * *
Behold the Gluttonous King in his feasting. His ravenous hunger forever chaining him to this place, unable to hear the voices of the gods within. His is the fate of all those strong enough to survive whom lack the will and courage to go forward.
In front of them appeared what had once been a man. His features were bloated, his skin stretched and torn with tearing. He’s at least ten times my size. Rolls of fat hung over the table as wine and grease dripped from his mouth.
His massive body took up a large portion of the backside of what appeared to be a banquet hall. Most of the table was covered by the giant belly of the king. Most of his food rested not on the table but on him. Around the grotesque man was scattered the detritus of past meals. Piles of old bones and rotted portions of meat that had fallen to the ground for the unworthy to later consume.
The king sat on the floor. The only thing separating him from the cold stone was a large plush pillow that was barely wide enough to contain his massive girth.
As he sat there, eating, slurping at a giant bowl as soup and blood dribbling down his neck, John had to steady himself, lest he purge the little bit of nourishment that was left in his stomach.
The smell was abominable.
At first, the king did not realize the presence of his visitors. Then, his big beady eyes turned to them, his mouth still chewing.
“Well, what do we have here? It has been too long since the last time my food was presented to me this fresh.” The monster said.
“We are not to be your food, you foul creature.” the woman spat, clearly disgusted.
“You heard her.” John said. “Being eaten isn’t high on my list of priorities.
“Oh, I rather doubt that that is true. Everyone has their price. Everyone has something they hunger for. Don’t you hunger for freedom?” the king said displaying his gaping maw. “I’ll tell you what. If you give me the girl, I’ll let you go. I’ll even share the secret about how to reach the surface.”
As if to accentuate his point, the king held up a large meaty hand from which dangled a key between swollen fingers.
“Never before have I given this offer to my food. I’m not one to pass up a meal, as I’m sure you may guess. But I am a benevolent god. What say you? The price of a meal for freedom”
The woman looked at John with pleading eyes as if to say Please, don’t. She needn’t have done so. John had no intention of giving her up to this beast. Still, he needed to buy some time in order to think of what to do.
“What if I refuse?” John queried.
“Well,” replied the king. “That is relatively simple. I’ll kill her anyway and eat you both, though I’ll take my time with you. A leg first, then an arm, then the other leg. I can feed on you for hours.”
John doubted that this massive mound of fat could even stand up, let alone try to kill him. Still, the king spoke with confidence.
“Looks like we’re going to have to fight him.” John whispered to his companion as he held out one of his blessed axes for the woman to take.
She looked at him like he had just grown another head. “I am no fighter.” she said.
“What do you mean? Aren’t you an adventurer like me who was thrown into this dungeon?” he asked, wondering what she could do to help them out of the situation.
“No, I am- I don’t know what I am.” She muttered confused.
“Great,” John said sarcastically. “Take cover. I should be able to take him. He’s large, but that makes him slow.”
“I’m afraid that you are mistaken in that.” the king clamored.
Then he rose with an agility that John could not comprehend. He stood and stretched. His massive body shaking with each motion. Then, he launched himself at John.
John dove one way and the woman dove the other. She scrambled further into the hall, trying to take what cover she could.
John leapt back to his feet; blessed axes held at the ready. No sooner had he done so than the king was right on top of him, swinging one of those massive hands at John’s head.
John barely dodged it, and he felt the wind whip past his body like a small gale.
This creature may have been horribly fat, but he was also strong, and for some reason, he was also lightning quick.
John had intended to rely on his agility to outmaneuver the king and deal a series of blows that would eventually cripple him. Now, he saw that that was more easily said than done.
His plan still might work, but it would be more difficult than before.
John waited for the right moment. He allowed the king to get close, and when he once again lashed out with his large hands, John ducked under them and darted in close. He swung his axes and they met the flesh of the king’s leg.
The king did not stagger or cry out at the blow. He laughed. Then he kicked at John with his injured leg.
John’s reflexes kicked in and he managed to get away with only a graze to his arm, but that graze sent shockwaves throughout his whole body.
That kick had been delivered with all of the vast weight of the king.
John didn’t understand how he moved so well. His legs should have crumbled beneath the massive weight, but they didn’t only hold strong, they moved with an unnatural alacrity.
John stepped back, trying to give himself some distance.
The leg which he had struck oozed blood, but it was as if the king didn’t feel it at all.
He simply sauntered toward John, a wicked smile on his face.
“It has been such a long time since I’ve had to work for my food, but I think I’m up for the challenge, don’t you?”
There was no way that John could win. If this thing didn’t feel pain, then it didn’t matter how much John struck him, he would keep coming. All of his vital areas were protected by layers of fat, so that avenue wasn’t open to him either. There had to be another way.
The only things that were open to John were this banquet hall, and the kitchen that contained the unworthy. Either way he went, he would be faced with a nightmare that was intent on having him for dinner.
Then, a thought struck him. The unworthy had not hesitated to fall upon one of their own once it had fallen. Would they do the same to the king? But if John himself could not damage him, they how could they hope to?
The answer was quite obvious. They would need some help. The enemy of my enemy is my friend after all.
A plan had begun to emerge in John’s mind.
Chapter 12: The Ring, The Pot, and The Servants
* * *
Not my best plan, but I just need to go with it. It's not like I have a better idea, or time to think it out further.
"You know what? If you weren't so damn fat, you'd probably have caught me by now. I'm over here, not even trying to get out of your way, and you still haven't caught up." John taunted, pretending to not be out of breath. "You're going to have to be a lot quicker if you want to have me for dinner."
The Gluttonous King's smile turned savage and predatory. "My mother did always tell me not to play with my food. Quite a shame really, I could have spent longer eating them. You'll meet the same fate."
The ground shook as the king sprinted toward John. The monster's chins and stomach wobblin
g awkwardly with every step. He's still fast. I can't let him catch me. Just a little further.
Even as the Gluttonous King's smile grew wider, John remained in control of the situation. He had managed while running to position himself directly in front of the wooden doors that led back into the kitchen.
Using the same technique that he had used on the minotaur’s, John further taunted the monster, drawing all of its ire and fury on itself. When the Gluttonous King thought he had for sure captured John, but John jumped out of the way, and the monster’s sheer bulk and momentum was too much for him to stop himself.
The wooden doors didn’t just crash open; they splintered, and the Gluttonous King stumbled into the large kitchen where the unworthy prepared the next meal for their lord. The inhuman creatures prostrated themselves at the sight of their Gluttonous King, believing that they had somehow incurred his wrath.
When the Gluttonous King slammed into the opposite wall, John was on him in a flash. Lashing out in an X-shaped attack with his blessed axes at the exposed soft flesh of the monster’s back.
Blood welled up from the cuts, but the king turned his neck and rose up like nothing had happened. He showed no sign of weakening after the attack.
“Didn’t you already try that? I’d have thought you would be smarter, but then again, if you were smart… you wouldn’t be here in the dungeon, would you?” The creature asked mockingly.
Honestly, all I wanted was some hot foot and to sleep off the injuries of my fight on the road. “It’s already over, you just haven’t realized it yet,” John said with a half-smile.
The king stood there in the kitchen trying to maneuver its bulk to turn around and chase after John. The unworthy began to squirm, no longer completely cowed by the presence of their vile master. John noticed how the unworthy, like many a monster, had been drawn to the smell of blood. They turned, their senses fixated on the sound of how the blood dripped down the monster’s legs and back. Though the cuts didn’t affect the Gluttonous King, the bloodletting had an intense effect on the unworthy.