by Neven Iliev
What followed was a surprisingly smooth flight, with just the wind howling outside and the odd pocket of turbulence to remind its passengers they were actually in motion. Fizzy spent her time staring idly at the box in the corner. There wasn’t any particular reason for that, though. There was simply nothing else around to distract her from her depressing thoughts. Plus, the container would shake occasionally and cause the box to sway into the electrified cage and get zapped, to which it would react with a yelp and a growl. This was oddly entertaining to watch.
The hours rolled by. Morning turned to noon, then to dusk, then to night. The beams of clear sunlight that poked through the holes near the ceiling and bathed the interior in a soft yellow light gradually disappeared. They were eventually replaced by moonlight, though it was so weak that it failed to light up anything at all.
The gnome could not sleep though. The sound the wind made as it rushed into those holes and the occasional shaking of their container made such things pointless. The luxury carriage on the other griffin was probably stabilized to the point where its occupants would feel like they were on solid ground the whole way through. And it would be heated by magic, whereas she only had a bunch of loose blankets that smelled funny. While she probably wouldn’t freeze to death, it didn’t mean she wasn’t cold. The chilly rations and water she’d been given didn’t help much either.
As for the Mimic, it did what simple-minded and less complicated creatures do. It sat perfectly still, waiting for the right moment to come. It had taken a lot of patience, a good amount of pain, and having to give up two of its Jobs to get to this point, but that chance had finally come. And the opportunistic chest would seize it without fail.
Because that was what Boxxy T. Morningwood did best.
Part Five
When a prisoner escaped custody under their own power, it could almost always be blamed on a single act of negligence. Edward Allen knew this better than most people, having been incarcerated in and escaped from prisons many times throughout his troubled youth and long career in subterfuge. Which was why he made sure to keep a very watchful eye on the mimic that held the answers to the Calamity in its box-addled mind. It was denied freedom at all times and was given absolutely nothing, not even food or water. Its pathetic attempt at restraining Zone served as a prime example of a situation that could’ve gone awry if it wasn’t for that woman’s superb strength.
Containing monsters was a special case, however. On one hand, being slaves to their basic instincts meant they were not as unpredictable as they would appear. They all had certain behavioural patterns and their abilities were confined to a specific theme or concept. Unfortunately, mimics were not usually considered a major threat, since they didn’t appear outside of dungeons. So information regarding them was minimal. It was known they had limited shapeshifting capabilities and favoured tactics that relied on stealth or ambushes, but that was about it.
Yet even if Edward wasn’t completely certain what specific Skills and abilities his prisoner had at its disposal, they would undoubtedly have a certain weakness: their fuel source. Much like the rest of the world, any supernatural tricks and magical gimmicks on Boxxy’s part would require MP to activate. Meaning that once the mana-draining restraints were in place and had robbed the animate chest of its magical reserves, all that was left was to make sure its physical restraints were not lacking. Even on the odd chance it somehow escaped those bindings, it would be unable to lay a single splinter on the electrified cage it was in.
In short, the experienced spy had done everything in his power after capturing Boxxy to make sure it would not escape. However, the singular act of negligence – the one thing he had overlooked – that would provide the key to Boxxy’s escape had occurred just before the monster was taken into custody. In the gap between getting kicked through a building and being knocked out with that weird potion, the Mimic had managed to withdraw a single MP recovery potion from its Storage. It had originally intended to drink it, heal up, and run away with all due haste, but it couldn’t do any of that before it had been caught.
Which allowed that last crystal vial to remain in its maw, where it had been rolling around under its tongue this entire time. It had multiple urges to pop the thing and make a break for it, but Edward’s constant hovering kept it from trying anything. Well, apart from the time it tried and failed to take that black-haired woman hostage. Thankfully it had realised that wasn’t going to work before it blew its only chance.
With that moment gone, the Mimic persevered and waited for a better opportunity, and now the time to act had finally come. It was in the dead of night, in transit through the air, and with nobody around to stop it. If that detestable human was able to catch it even under such circumstances, then its chances of running away with its life were truly zero.
Boxxy began its escape attempt by growing a short, thick tentacle from its faux-wood frame. It pointed the appendage at the small box that was electrifying its prison, then crunched down on the mana potion in its mouth, setting its plan into motion.
[You have used a Mana Potion. MP +200.]
Acid started forming inside its appendage while the Mimic accessed its Storage and took out the other mana potion, its last healing potion, and those two shiny daggers it liked so much.
[Your magical power has been forcefully dispersed. MP -50.]
The metal restraints bolted onto its body started glowing with a faint red light right just as the corrosive liquid gushed forth and splattered against the control box. The deluge did not last longer than a second and a half, however. That small spurt was all the monster could muster before what little MP it had regained ran dry.
“Hm? Huh?”
Fizzy, who was currently preoccupied with trying to tear into an ice-cold piece of dried meat, heard splashing sounds coming from the corner of the cargo container. She turned her attention in her cellmate’s direction just in time to notice the fading glow of its restraints amidst the sea of blackness. She kept staring at that spot as if expecting something, though she failed to see anything else since the moonlight shining through the holes near the ceiling was much too weak.
*KKKHRRT BBZZZZZT PTSUN*
Or so she thought, until a certain control box let out a number of worrisome noises accompanied by a few errant sparks.
With the humming noise gone, Boxxy slowly stretched out a tentacle and tentatively touched the black bars of its cage, confirming they were no longer electrified. Although the acid did nothing to eat away the sturdy bars themselves, the Mimic had accomplished its immediate goal of shorting out the device. The monster may not have been the sharpest knife in the drawer, but it still knew enough about Artificer-made equipment to know it didn’t take much to make it go haywire.
That was all well and good, but that had been the easy bit. The next part of the Mimic’s escape plan would not be so easy, nor anywhere near as painless.
“HRRRMPPH!”
The monster let out a muffled scream of pain as two pure-white blades pierced its lid from the inside out. It kept forcing them upward from the inside, working the handles via a pair of tongue-tentacles to widen the wounds, shrieking all the while. Once those were big enough, it carefully gripped the pointy ends with a pair of external appendages, pulling them out of its mouth cavity. It then forced the wounds closed with its shapeshifting and waited patiently for the pain to subside and its HP to recover.
As for Fizzy, she had no idea what was going on. Her gnomish eyes were unable to completely pierce the darkness and the only thing she’d heard for the last while had been agonizing yelps of pain. And then, whether it was because the griffin changed course or because the clouds had shifted, the moonlight was allowed to shine right on the Mimic’s cage. It was then she saw it holding two glistening blades above its lid, only to thrust them down upon itself.
The creature let out more groans and muffled screams as the twin daggers dug into its flesh. The monster then slowly but carefully carved away at the meat around one of
its magic-draining restraints. After about half a minute of self-harm, Boxxy finally managed to dislodge one of the bolts that was keeping the enchanted metal brace in place. It was then removed from its hole and discarded onto the ground with a metallic rattle.
“Hnn! Hnn! Hnn!”
The monster panted heavily as thick yellow blood oozed out of its open wound. Even if the cuts weren’t very deep and caused very little damage to its HP, they still hurt immensely. It was also the only way to get those bolts out of its body. Even if it was a shapeshifter, it didn’t have complete control over its flesh. Its imitation wood frame could not be made to ‘spit out’ the bolts, which was exactly what that man Edward was counting on. What he didn’t anticipate, however, was that Boxxy had both the means and willingness to essentially operate on itself.
One down, fifteen to go!
After mentally psyching itself up a bit, the Mimic moved on to the next one. And then the next. And then the next after that. One after the other, the metal bolts keeping its mouth firmly sealed came loose as Fizzy looked on in a mix of horror, shock, and disgust. Not knowing what to do, she once again tried running away from reality by burying herself underneath her blankets. That did little to stop the harsh sounds of metal cutting into flesh, however, nor did it deafen Boxxy’s pain-filled wails, which lasted for a solid hour.
[Your magical power is no longer being suppressed. Automatic MP recovery has returned to normal.]
Once free of its restraints, the Mimic landed roughly on the floor of its cage. But it wasn’t quite done. Next was its age-old enemy: the metal grating that surrounded it on all sides. Thankfully, its captors had revealed the weakness of this once-formidable foe. So it took the opportunity to just sit quietly on the ground, revelling in the sensation of once more being able to open its maw. Its MP had largely recovered after several minutes, at which point it placed all of its belongings back into Storage. It then stretched out a tentacle, slipped it through the bars in the cage, used Metal Mimicry to recreate the cage’s key from its memory, and unlocked it.
And then, with a vague sense of pride and accomplishment, the monster finally stepped out of its cage. It opened its mouth as wide as it would go, letting out a hearty, throaty laugh to celebrate its victory through sheer perseverance.
“Hashashashasha! HAH SHAH SHAH SHAH SHAH SHAH SHAH!”
It was official. Freedom. Was. Tasty.
Hearing the oddly cheerful noises coming from her cellmate made the gnome peek out from under her covers. And what she saw was a spider-legged chest that had broken completely free from its restraints rapidly yet silently approaching her own cage. She stared at it blankly and silently like a deer would a meteorite falling straight towards it, as if standing completely still would somehow make the incomprehensibly scary thing go away. This lasted until the monster opened its jaws to reveal two rows of jagged, mismatched metal teeth, which were promptly used to mangle the roof of her cage.
“No … NO!” she yelled. “Stay away! Please!”
Boxxy ignored her screams as it chewed its way through her cell. The wrought iron bars groaned and creaked and cracked as they resisted, but were ultimately no match for the monster’s Metal-Mimicry-reinforced jaws. The rods of Fizzy’s cage were mercilessly torn and ripped out as the monster made a huge hole in the gnome-sized jail. It then reached inside the cage with a trio of tongue-tentacles, wrapping them around the gnome’s feet, neck, and torso.
“Nooo! *Sob* Don’t hurt me! Please don’t eat me!”
And then, without paying any heed to her pleas for mercy, it unceremoniously put her in its mouth and closed its jaws around her.
Now that Fizzy had been dealt with, Boxxy moved to the next obstacle in its path: the metal double doors in the back of the container. Not that they proved to be much of a challenge. The Mimic simply sprayed the area around the locks with acid for about a minute until they gave way. The doors then swung open and dangled erratically as the midnight sky stretched out before the creature.
Boxxy stood and stared at the view ahead with its frontal eye. The sky was clear, without a single cloud, providing an unobstructed view of the heavens and its countless shiny stars. The griffin’s feather-tipped tail swung about slightly with the beast’s every motion and its golden-furred rump was visible directly underneath the exit. The large metal doors flapped wildly to the left and right, at least until the wind snapped them off their hinges. They fell backwards, dancing erratically in the air as they plummeted towards the ground far below.
This exquisite scenery had a profound impact on the relatively simple creature. It reminded it that it was actually in mid-air. A detail that seemed to have temporarily escaped Boxxy’s mind, what with all the self-mutilation and jailbreaking. Well, at least altitude wasn’t much of a problem for a shapeshifter. All the Mimic had to do was gather whatever loose biomass it had remaining and send it towards its rear. A few seconds later, two wide bat-like wings – yet another body part mimicked from its favourite Snack – grew out from its back. The creature took a bit of time to gather its courage and then made a running leap off the container and into the night, unfurling its borrowed demonic wings.
It then proceeded to magnificently fall like a rock.
Boxxy had made a slight miscalculation. It was currently carrying some extra mass. A female gnome’s worth, to be precise. As such, it took a little flailing about, but it managed to coax itself into a glide before things went awry. Full-blown flight was out of the question since the wingspan-to-weight ratio wasn’t in its favour, so controlling and adjusting its descent was all it could do. This wasn’t the monster’s first freefall; it had tried and failed multiple times to copy Snack’s flying skills. Who knew all those times it had flung itself off cliffs would pay off like this?
The monster chanced a glance upwards and confirmed that the two griffins continued on their way at ludicrous speeds. Its escape appeared to have gone unnoticed, at least for the time being. Which was definitely a good thing. It felt proud of itself for waiting until nightfall to pull this off, as that no doubt made it more difficult for someone in the lead cabin to notice the Mimic’s descent. Granted, it didn’t believe simple darkness would be enough to completely hide it from those people, but it was surely better than escaping in broad daylight. There was also the vague hope that some or all of them would be asleep. Whether that was indeed the case or not, one thing remained clear:
Boxxy T. Morningwood had succeeded in running away.
If all went well, its breakout would go unnoticed until the group reached their destination. With some extra luck, they would think the Mimic died on impact with the ground, though they’d probably organize a search for it anyway. However, they would have no idea exactly when and where this breakout occurred. There would be too much ground to cover, and the monster would not simply stand still and wait to be found.
Not that Boxxy could actually piece any of this together. If it was a few days ago, it might have had the mental capacity to come to such reassuring conclusions on its own. As of right now, however, it was far too preoccupied with not falling to its death to worry about the maybes and the what-ifs.
After what felt like an eternity, the Mimic’s guided descent finally ended. It touched down somewhere in the Sawblade Mountains, in a sparsely forested area that had a steep slope to it. It latched onto a pine tree and withdrew its wings, scanning its surroundings from its high vantage point. Once it was convinced nobody was giving chase, it climbed down the old trunk. It was only when its arachnid limbs touched down on solid ground that it finally allowed itself to relax a little.
‘A little’ being the operative phrase. Boxxy had no idea where it was, what monsters lurked around or, most important of all, where it could find food. It had to be more careful than ever, as it was in a relatively weakened state. It didn’t have its familiars, its magic, or what little expertise at handling gadgets and grenades it had picked up. Losing those two Jobs had been a huge setback, to say the least.
At
least it held the key to recovering one of them.
It opened its maw and spat out something small, pink-haired, and unconscious. It would appear the drool-covered Fizzy had fainted from terror at the prospect of being eaten. After all, she was surrounded by teeth and a fleshy tongue wrapped firmly around her to keep her from resisting. Boxxy had also very nearly swallowed her whole on reflex on a few occasions, but it managed to keep a firm grip on its appetite. All things considered, her passing out was probably for the best.
As for the reasons it saved her, it had two. The obvious one was that it wanted its Artificer Job back. The second one was that it needed someone around to teach it things. Now that Snack was gone and Carl was unreachable, it had nobody around to guide it through civilized society. Granted, it didn’t quite trust this gnome, but it was the best source of information it could dig up on short notice. If it wasn’t for her valuable input concerning those mana-draining shackles, it might not have managed to escape like it did.
Speaking of which, it would probably be best if it got rid of her bindings. It reached down with its trio of tongue-tentacles and started fiddling with the locks on the shackles. It wasn’t able to create a key like it did for its cage, but that wasn’t really necessary. The monster’s mind still held some memories from Fizzy’s Artificer lessons, and it could clearly grasp the tumblers through its magical perception. It didn’t take long to pick the locks.
[Proficiency level increased. Lockpick is now Level 1. DEX +3. PER +1.]
The gnome’s shackles slid off her hands and feet and fell to the ground with a small rattling noise, which caused her to stir.
“Uuugh …” she groaned. “Hnn? Waaaah!”
She suddenly sat up screaming, her eyes as wide open as they could go. In front of her was a dark, creepy pinewood forest. Above her was the clear night sky. She was sitting on a steep and oddly muddy slope. To her left was a wooden chest. To her right –