Monster Age

by GR Griffin

  “Hey, Marco, what’s up with you?” asked the one sat at the table, an animate deep-sea diving suit.

  The guy who had just made an entrance, Marco, a blue blob with limbs and a face, slapped the paper flat beside the tray. “This is what’s up,” he replied just as loudly as how he entered, his breath heavy and the sweat shimmering on his bulbous frame.

  There was a pause as the other inspected the paper through his grated face plate. “Holy smokes,” he said in a low tone through an invisible mouth, yet his words were surprisingly clear. He rubbed the glass to make sure he was not mistaken. “Here? Now?”

  “Yeah. I’m just as shocked as you, trust me,” Marco replied. By this time, Fleck had turned back to their food.

  “Well. Ain’t this typical. Just when you think it’s safe the walk the streets again – now that the civil war is over an’ all – we get this.”

  “Tell me about it, Sean.” Marco paced around the table, bouncing his plentiful frame. “The folks at home are going nuts. Mack is thinkin’ of boarding up the house, and Ma’s dug out Pa’s old claymore – monster gods bless his dusty remains. That thing is rustier than her. We got enough problems already without a human becoming one of them.”

  Fleck froze centimetres away from their seventh bite, sucking in a whimper of a breath. That monster had said that one little word that permanently set them apart from the monsters, especially their friends and family. Fleck took a wild guess as to the number of humans that could be present in this hidden sky empire, and they were quite confident in assuming that they were the only one, bringing the tally up to a grand total of one. Those monsters had to be referring to them. The senses in their ears sharpened, ready to hear what they had to say next.

  “Mind you though,” Marco went on, tapping on the table, “that reward looks pretty enticing.”

  “Oh my goodness – one million cloud coins?” Sean said in disbelief, rubbing his face plate again. Now it was cleaner beyond clean. “I’ve never seen a bounty that high since… how much was that Eddy, or Freddy, or Teddy guy worth? I can’t remember.”

  Marco stroked one of his chins. “I think it might’ve been… one-hundred-thousand… I think? Unless I’ve miscounted the number of zeroes in it.”

  Fleck took that seventh bite, acting casual. The intensity of the flavour made their face scrunch, and they relived the gruesome moment where they fell from grace, remembering the vivid image of the Emperor, watching with those stern eyes as they plunged to their supposed demise. They should have known better than to think that he would give up so easily.

  Sean said, “That sounds about right. That means this human’s sure gone and kicked a hornet’s nest to get a price that big on that head of theirs.”

  “More like ten nests, what’s-his-name got that one-hundred-grand on him by terrorising those guys down in the Forest. They get real touchy about those nests…” His beady eyes counted the number of zeros on paper. “One million cloud coins. Imagine what you could do with that money. You could buy your own mansion in the Oasis. Heck, if I’m the one to nab this human, that what I’ll do.”

  “Right. After you blow it all in one day at the con-venience store.” Sean laughed. “Forget about the Oasis. You could buy Castle Highkeep with that amount… probably give mister grumpy no-smile on the throne the boot…”

  “Man, all this worrying has worked up an appetite. I’m gonna need an extra big breakfast to get through today.”

  “I just finished mine,” Sean said, rising from his seat. “Tasted… a little different, but I’m in the mood for seconds.” Together, they made their way over to the counter. Sean’s weighted boots drummed loud on the bare floor. “Word of advice, don’t order the bacon and egg muffin – they’re not going down so good.”

  Fleck watched as they made their way over to the counter. With both their backs turned, Fleck rammed the remainder of the bagel into their mouth, poured in the last drops of orange juice, and turned around to face Sean’s table. Just as they expected, those guys had left the poster there along with the tray holding what was left of his first breakfast. They took one last look back at the pair, who were contemplating their choices, whether to go for quality or quickness. Fleck quietly slipped from their seat, still chewing their food, and snuck over. The sheet of paper lay face up for everyone to see. They grabbed and slid it off the table, taking one last look back at the duo as they did so. Could the human be them? Fleck looked at it, and their own image staring back confirmed it.

  The human’s own likeliness had been illustrated to a tee, both in appearance and in description. They had gotten their hairstyle, features, and clothing right, shedding a whole new light on their situation. Before they had seen this poster, they would have strolled, as blind as a bat, all around these lands, talking to whoever and doing whatever, oblivious to the danger they were in until it was too late. Now, Fleck felt like they had a bullseye painted on their back. The goers in the restaurant were sparse, yet they still felt exposed, like every eye was secretly spying on them and they were all ready to pounce at once.

  There was fine print at the bottom, but the text was so small that it was difficult to understand. Fleck puller the wanted poster closer, squinting. They were just able to make out something regarding a doctor, and—

  “You’re shocked too, huh?”

  Flecked jumped, nearly choking on their food. They span in the direction of the voice, but as they did so, they did not pull away from the poster – keeping their nose pressed against it. Marco watched as the petite creature stepped back, their face obscured.

  “Are you okay?” asked Marco. Sean was right behind him, holding the tray with both their meals. From his point of view, all Marco saw was a figure of small proportions, hiding their face behind the poster. Their nose bulged through the centre.

  The small thing wearing the striped blue jumper muffled something neither of them could understand. Marco felt bad for this poor creature, clearly distraught by the news of a human running wild within the Outerworld.

  “I know it’s a lot to take in,” Marco assured, “but don’t worry, I’m sure the Monster Military will handle this. I mean, I’m not a big fan of them, but they have their uses sometimes.” He watched as the nervous creature began to back away, almost tripping over a chair leg, keeping the wanted poster against their face. “If you wanna keep that poster, that’s fine, I was finished with it anyway. I got, like, five of them through my letterbox this morning, and they’re plastered all over town.”

  As Fleck made their way to the exit, the one thing they could see was the extreme close up of the history of pacifism and flirting part. They groped for the handle and pushed only to slam into the glass door. Upon second inspection, there was the word pull engraved on it.

  “And if I were you,” the other, Sean, called out as they pulled it open, “I’d change out of those clothes before someone thinks you’re starting a fan club.”

  Outside. Fleck dropped the poster, squinting in the light, finally swallowing the remainder of their breakfast. They glanced up and down the street. Monsters all around. Walking. Talking. Waiting. Checking watches. Tying shoelaces. Reading newspapers. Huddled in spots. Fleck’s focus went to every shop window in sight. How could they have not noticed this sooner? The posters were everywhere. Fleck’s face all around, on every window, post, and wall, impossible to miss. Their face. Their description. Their species. One million cloud coin reward – the highest bounty to grace the Outerworld. They suddenly felt like a piece of meat in the middle of a tank of piranhas.

  Fleck moved, walking with pace, but refraining from running – no matter how badly their brain was telling them to – as they tried not to attract attention. They pulled the collar of their sweater up to their chin and brushed their hair forward across their face, anything to stave off suspicion, even for a few seconds. With their head down, they headed down the middle of the street. Now more than ever, they needed to get out of Parfocorse, but the train was not due for a while yet.
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br />   The human child passed a woman pushing a pram and, for the briefest of moments, they both made eye contact. Fleck heard the wheels come to a halt and the mother mutter something along the lines of, “Hold on, uh…” Then she hurried off, pushing the speed of the buggy to its limits.

  Where were they going? Where could they go? Straight to the station? Back to the hotel? Back to the safety of their room? Fleck recollected all the monsters who had seen their face from last night. The waiter and clerk at the restaurant. The dozens of bystanders. The hotel receptionist. The family at the lobby. The unfinished symphony who they passed forty minutes prior obviously had seen the poster, by the way he gazed at them. The locals of Parfocorse were beginning to catch on that they were there, and eventually, they would follow the trail to their room.

  A mouse monster, who was probably the same age as Fleck, passed on their right, guided by his parents. The kid stopped, dropped his ice cream, and pointed straight at them. “Wait a minute, that’s…” Fleck tucked their chin deeper down, bringing the comfort of their shirt up to their nostrils. The kid pulled against his father’s hand and cried out, still pointing at them. “That’s them, Daddy! That’s the human!” The kid’s shrill voice cut through Fleck’s determination. It was like an alarm bell going off, drawing unwanted attention to those around.

  It would appear that their attempt to blend in was not working. All around, monsters were starting to take notice. Whenever they risked a glance to the side, they always noticed someone looking back. A couple of pointed fingers shot out. A door slammed shut, followed by a couple of windows. Fleck thought they heard human being spoken from the crowds a few times. A firecracker going off in the middle of the street would have attracted less attention than they were at that current moment of time. They wondered whether any of them would engage in combat. These people were civilians, having not been trained how to fight, but the prospect of gaining a quick fortune was a mighty temptation. Under the right circumstances, monsters can act as greedy and as ambitious as humans. All it took was a catalyst and the correct spark to set things in motion.

  Fleck turned the corner, heading back to the hotel. If anything, it was the one place they had to go on. The one reprieve they had, if it has not already been compromised since they had been away. The tension in the streets were increasing. The numbers aware of the human’s presence swelling. Several wide stares from monsters with two eyes, three eyes, four eyes, six eyes, eight eyes, one eye, and no eyes. Fleck glanced at the sideways reflection in a glass shop display and spotted two monsters a few strides behind. One of them was holding something that Fleck could not make out. Fleck kept their pace, moving fast but not too fast.

  Up ahead, among the crowds were individuals decked out in silver. Fleck almost froze upon seeing them. Members of the Monster Military. Their armour dazzled in the low sun. Their spears rose above the crowds, the razor tips reflecting a hint of light. Apparently, they had received reports of civilians claiming to have seen a child who matched the fugitive named Fleck.

  With every step, they got closer – both the guards in front and the pursuers behind, which had now grown to three. The guards had not spotted them, but were bound to eventually. Fleck glanced around, there were a couple of alleyways to choose from, the one to their right blocked by a wooden fence. Maybe they could slink into a shop or cafeteria and hope nobody would notice the Outerworld’s most wanted escapee bolting to find a fire exit.

  A mongoose monster to the right opened a ground floor window from the inside. A box of flowers lay outside, attached to the frame. He leaned out and took a cautious sniff of them before recoiling back. “I swear, these flowers smell worse every day. Some of these I bought yesterday, and they’re already starting to wilt.”

  A guard in the middle of taking a witness statement glanced past the civilian. She caught sight of Fleck and held her gaze for two seconds. “Target spotted,” she announced quietly to her colleagues, who snapped to attention. In one fluid motion, she tossed the witness aside and pointed at Fleck. “You! Hold it right there!”

  Now.

  Fleck bolted to the right. Everyone else, those in front and behind, moved when they did. The monster by the window stumbled and fell back in horror as the human child dove inside and landed on a coffee table, sliding across the smooth surface and knocking over a cup of water before slipping off and landing with a roll on the threadbare rug.

  No time to stop and contemplate how cool that move was; the pursuers were forcing their large frames through the small window frame while others were bashing at the door. Above the commotion of mangled voices and grating metal, the guard bellow out: “Send word to all the squads in the area: the human has been spotted! Cut off all exits, do not allow them to escape!”

  Fleck darted across the living room, leaving the startled monster to collect himself. They reached the central hall just as the door burst open. Fleck ducked into a kitchen. There was a chair, a dining table, a kitchen top and an open window all lined up for a perfect escape, which they took without hesitation. It was as if it had been deliberately placed in that fashion just for them. They landed in what could be loosely described as a garden, more an alleyway of fences and patches of long grass, which stretched thirty buildings downwards. This place was hidden in the shadows, left to rot and fester. The pounding of footsteps from within the house urged them forward. They jumped the fence onto a worn path that cut straight down the expanse. The one or two idlers out there were not too bothered with the appearance of a sprinting child.

  The backdoor exploded and the pursuers funnelled out, not allowing this chase to end so easily. The crowd of silver metal crashed through the fence and quickly located the human, racing between the gardens. The pursuit was in progress.

  A large, burly monster in command span to a teammate half his size. “Barmy, get to higher ground and pursue them.”

  With a silent affirmation, Corporal Barmy – the most battle-scared grey squirrel anyone would see, with three nasty scars running down his face – sprang into action. There was a single, dying tree within the alley, not the best place to be when you require more than an hour of sunlight each day, but the branches were thick enough to support his weight. A second is all he needed. He grabbed a low-hanging branch and somersaulted toward the buildings on the right. Barmy grabbed a window ledge and climbed to the roof, his armour not slowing him down one bit. He ran in the human’s direction, forming his trusty magically bow and testing the torque of the string as he moved.

  “Remember, Corporal,” issued the same heavyset solider from down below, huffing and panting from exertion, “no killing the target… unless you absolutely have to!”

  Barmy replied, “I’m not gonna kill them.” His voice dropped to a whisper as he said the next part. “Just wound them, badly.” He licked his lips, which were dry from anticipation. “Promotion, here I come.”

  The houses left and right passed Fleck a blur. Their legs were still sore from yesterday’s efforts, having covered a full marathon’s length within the span of that day. Their body ached, their full belly brought on a nasty case of stitches, yet Fleck powered on, the charging squadron behind, coupled with the agile unit above, offered some much needed inspiration as to why they could not give up.

  Fleck exited the alley. They were back on the main streets, among the hustle and bustle, out in the open, exactly where they did not want to be. Through the crowds on both sides, more of the Monster Military were charging, converging on the human child. They bellowed their threats, demanding that Fleck surrender. Fleck responded by sprinting toward an alley across the road, bobbing through as the metal monsters were a metre away. Corporal Barmy jumped the wide gap between the buildings with ease, landing on the other side.

  Up ahead, an eight-foot boarded fence threatened the human’s escape. There was a gap in the bottom where the boards had been broken away. Fleck charged, dropped, and slid straight through – their pace unaffected. Fleck glanced at the wall behind them, the clanking of arm
our muffled behind it. They thought that it would buy them some time to escape until the planks of wood broke away upon impact with the leading soldier’s frame. With splinters of wood in the crevices, the squadron soldiered on.

  The alley veered right into a square clearing, full of backdoors and overflowing garbage bins. Up ahead, wedged between two buildings, a delicate set of scaffolding towered from the ground to the roofs. The building, judging by its bare walls and square holes, was getting some needed restoration. Fleck desperately looked around, having no idea which doors would aid in their escape and which would not. They picked the grotty backdoor to the west. As they neared, it slammed open with more troops. Fleck skidded to a stop, turned and ran before the waiting spears could snag them. The doors on the opposite side flew open as the compact alley became more and more crowded. The Monster Military funnelled in from three directions, fifteen now in the backstreet, and they all had their sights on the human.

  Fleck’s pulse hammered away, both terrified and tired. Seriously cornered and outnumbered, the military were boxing them in, cutting off all possible retreats. They wished they could ask the monsters to form a line so that they could befriend them one by one, but these guys were not playing by those rules. The alleyway shadowed by the precarious construction was their only route, the only one that held some smidgen of hope.

  The framework, as Fleck neared, was a makeshift job – metal poles and wooden planks held together with rope and string, ascending five floors upwards. It would probably hold together better with spit. The structure creaked and churned as Fleck passed the first set of supports, the sounds mingling with those of the pursuers. They glanced upwards, catching glimpses of sunlight as they pierced the gaps, streaking lines across their face.

  A rope snapped.

  They all heard it before they saw it. A knot holding the scaffolding together came loose, and this one must have been significant because it started a domino effect with all the rest. The framework began to shake as the glue holding it together disintegrated. A plank swung into the human’s path, slowing them down as they manoeuvred around it.