21st Century Orc

by Gregory Loui

  “Blight…” gasped Gore as she wrapped her hands around her head and gripped her hair. If she just pulled a little bit more, she could break apart at the seams. If the world so much as whispered, she would break apart into a million pieces. If she so much as continued to exist as herself, she would break. Nowhere to go but down… Nothing to do but find something to break instead of her… “I guess there’s no point in hiding anything from a freaking psych major. Besides… we promised to look out for each other. Blight, I’m babbling aren’t I? Babbling like a senseless fool. But that’s what I am. After all… what am I but a monster?”

  “Gore…” despite pressing her body against Gore, Debbie couldn’t have been further away. She might have well have tried to speak from the other side of the world.

  “I did this,” murmured Gore, shaking her head. She bit her lip. “I did this… Everything I do… everything I touch… just turns to shit.”

  “I don’t understand. What are you talking about?” asked Debbie again, pressing closer against Gore.

  Silent, Gore turned around to look Debbie in the eye, glancing for the briefest possible moment at the dwarf’s tempting lips. Even a monster could dream. But that was all Gore could do. Dream… Gore reached out to caress Debbie’s cheek but paused just a millimeter away from that perfect skin. No. She would ruin that too. Gore rose to her feet and walk away from Debbie, walking back to the edge.

  “Gore… you don’t have to say anything. I’ll understand. I’ll keep quiet. Just let me in. Let me help you,” murmured Debbie, following Gore as always. Gore tried not to look at the dwarf. For if she did, all of Gore’s strength would leave her.

  And Gore needed all the strength in the world to confess the truth.

  “I swapped out the replicator’s crystal,” murmured Gore, letting go of her fear, letting go of her hope. “I stole my family’s blood gem back to finish the Magnum Orcus’s core and put a replacement crystal in the replicator. That crystal must have been the one with the flaw. It must have been the reason why the replicator exploded.”

  Debbie gasped, “Wait… that means…”

  “Yes. Yes… it means I am the reason why the school almost burned down. Why Tawny’s in the hospital.” Squeezing her fists right, Gore ripped off the railing. Blight… she just needed to destroy something. Se needed to hurt something. She needed to kill someone…

  Then Gore turned around to look at Debbie, who stepped away from the orc. From the monster. Gore waited for Debbie to speak. To say anything. Anything but silence. Anything but the blank canvass for Gore to paint her worst fears upon. For her to use as a blade and cut apart her heart piece by piece.

  “Well, aren’t you gonna say anything?” asked Gore, her world breaking down all around her as she waited. The walls around her crumbled as dark thoughts breached into the waking world. “Or are you surprised I’m a monster?”

  “How could you do this? I thought you promised me you wouldn’t go behind my back,” gasped Debbie, her words breaking apart Gore’s heart with every syllable. “I thought we would do this together without stealing. I thought you…”

  Though a yawning abyss clawed at her heart, fire spilling through her lips, rage at the world lashing anyone nearby, Gore forced her mouth speak words she should never have, “And I lied. I played you for a sucker. Could you expect anything less than a orc? You shouldn’t have trusted me. You naive dwarf. You miserable piece of shit… I enjoyed pulling on your heartstrings, manipulating your emotions and desire to help me. No wonder you got captured the first time.”

  “I thought I loved you,” gasped Debbie through her tears before she shook her head, backing from Gore one step a heartbeat. Gore, her entire body going numb, couldn’t breath. Debbie’s heart broke apart and flowed out of her lips. “Now… I don’t even know you. Who are you? What did you do to my Gore?”

  The orc couldn’t answer her.

  “I…” Gore’s mouth failed her as Debbie ran away.

  Blight…

  Gore collapsed in the rain, sprawling and staring up into the indifferent heavens. Raindrops splattered against her cheeks.

  It was better this way. Better for Gore to break both their hearts before Debbie delved deeper into Gore’s life, before Gore killed her, before Gore could ruin her too.

  After all, Gore was just a orc. She was just a monster.

  She couldn’t change. She could never pretend to be anything else, even to herself.

  Squeezing her fists tight, so tight blood splurged out from between her fingers, Gore cried. All the pent up rage and misery and emotions stored within Gore spilled out in those silver droplets, flickering for the briefest of moments before lost in the rain. All the memories of her broken life spilled out and splattered on the pavement, useless and broken.

  She wished it all to end.

  Flipping onto her stomach, crawling over to the edge, Gore glanced off the roof and pulled herself onto her feet. She teetered on the edge, the dark thoughts whispering in her ear, fingers tugging on her shoulders, pulling her to one side.

  It was better this way.

  Blight…

  Her scryer rang.

  “Jagding shit,” growled Gore, sighing as she reached into her pocket. “Can’t you all just leave me alone for one moment?”

  Then Gore recognized the caller identification. And the wheels started turning in her head.

  Gore used Agnis’s breathing technique to hone her mind into a razor keen.

  “Hello?” asked Gore, turning her head to the south, to the Blight. War drums echoed in the distance. Gore clenched her teeth and fists tight, the scryer cracking under her fist. “Aunt Iron Tusk? You got everything ready for the Grand Prix?”

  Five million dollar leafs. That was enough to pay for Tawny’s treatment and repair the ballroom. Gore’s eyes glinted red. She clenched her fist tight. The finish line beckoned. A goal. If she could just win the Grand Prix…

  And if not… well, it’s not like anyone was going to miss Gore.

  Aunt Iron Tusk’s voice rumbled, tinged with a glint-power crackle, “Yes. How’s everything on your end, irāmutu? I heard some bad news about the school? Are you hurt? Is Debbie hurt? Can you still compete?”

  “I can… but Debbie… I don’t know,” growled Gore, shaking her head and glancing at the hospital door. For a moment, Debbie’s voice echoed in Gore’s mind, those light twinkling footsteps floating through the door, marching towards Gore. Then, turning away and leaving Debbie out of her life, Gore sighed, “No. She’s not gonna make it. So we’re gonna need two replacement riders.”

  “Shit… but we’ll make do. I’m gonna have to get everything ready soon then. You need anything?”

  “No. Other than luck. Lots of luck,” murmured Gore as she walked to the stairs. She needed to get to the Magnum Orcus and install the core as soon as possible. “I’ve been all out of that stuff for too long.”

  “I understand, irāmutu…” A pregnant pause filled the air. Aunt Iron Tusk hesitated. Then the old orc growled, “See you soon. Take care.”

  “I always do,” deadpanned Gore as she closed the call and stuffed her scryer back into her pocket.

  She rubbed her hands together.

  Please, Gore prayed to whatever deities still existed for orc kind. Please let her do one thing right.

  Just one thing.

  Just the impossible.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  Interlude

  That night the Orc marched into the Dwarven District of Tao Ein. Avoiding the stares of dwarves and halflings and those who belonged in the light, he kept his head down, trying not to look up like always.

  But he wasn’t the same orc anymore.

  The exhaust of cars and pollution of the city filled his damaged lungs like normal toxins. The lights glared at him, burning into his skull. The bare threads of his military coat crushed his shoulders, grease and jagged needlework stabbing into his cuts and bruises. Hundreds of thousands of different noises crashed down on him, sendin
g piercing shafts through his spine. Ash filled his mouth, still smoldering.

  Yet he savored all the pain, all the horror.

  It meant he was still alive.

  And it was too long since he’d lived in his own skin.

  Damn shame he had to spend the first hour of this new existence on a mission. An even bigger shame he had to run from his rescuers once he had heard the predicament his little sister had gotten herself into.

  Though the Dwarven District was a nice place for his reawakening.

  Dodging through a clump of night walkers, the Orc paused. A couple walked their Terror bird in his path. The massive ball of feathers licked its beak, eyeing the people surrounding the bird. Over ten feet tall, the Terror birds served as terrifying guard pets that even the Warboyz feared.

  As he continued his march forward, not changing course by a single degree, the Orc grinned, eyes flashing red.

  The Terror bird squawked and hopped to the side, allowing the Orc to pass like all the others.

  Nothing could stop the Orc now. Not with the scrap of paper pressing against his heart, burning with a a self-destructive fire. The letter, written by his sister, explained her intent in the next few days.

  How long had his sister spent writing that letter? Agonizing over every single last word and punctuation. How long did she take to come to such a conclusion? To forgive him?

  The Orc shook his head. He couldn’t run away anymore. He couldn’t let his sister go forward with her plan. He needed to stop her.

  Which was why he came to the Dwarven District.

  He couldn’t stop his sister alone. He knew that. But he knew someone who could help him.

  His march turned into a sprint. The Orc, heedless of the stares and whispers that followed him, zipped down the streets of the Dwarven District. He clutched his chest as his ruined lungs screamed for air, as cold fire swept up through his neglected legs. If he paused for a moment, faltered for even the briefest of instants, the Orc knew he would never get back up. He couldn’t let that happen.

  More. He needed more. He needed all the damn energy his body had left. And more.

  Then the Orc realized he passed his destination

  Skidding to a halt, the Orc coughed out a mouthful of spit —clean spit, relatively— and walked back a couple of steps, collapsing in front of the apartment complex his saviors had written down. His hands shook for a moment but then the Orc clenched them into fists. He didn’t have time for fear. He needed to save his sister from herself. After all, she waved him from his own demons.

  Time to repay the favor.

  He knocked. Hard enough that the whole building started to shake.

  A few moments later, a small dwarf cracked open the door, a couple of terrified older dwarves standing behind her. Tears and mascara streaked down the dwarf’s face. She gasped, “What the Blight are you doing here, Bones?”

  “Ah… Good. Debbie. We need to talk,” murmured Bones as he bowed his head and murmured, “Please."

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  Ready?

  “Gore,” murmured Marrow from the roof of the Magnum Orcus, jerking Gore from her sleep and her nightmares. Gore snarled and grabbed her pistol, jamming it up into her cousin’s face. Eyes flashing black, Marrow smiled as he waved the barrel away and murmured, “You ready?”

  Gore blinked.

  “Ugh… sorry.”

  “No foul. I’m just glad you didn’t give me a new nostril.”

  “You’d be surprised how useful it would be.” Lowering her pistol, Gore shook her head and reached for her coffee thermos. She opened the damn thing and took a long draught. Then, blinking, she turned to the world beyond the window. The world she had forsaken for so long but now the one she needed to dive into for the sake of… No. Gore shook her head. She couldn’t say she was fighting for anything other than her own redemption. “Blight… that was a long ride.”

  “Hehehe, appropriate word for this land,” murmured Marrow as he hopped off the Magnum Orcus onto the red sands which shimmered silver under the moons’ light. The young orc planted his fists on his hips, striking a heroic pose.

  Indeed, Gore blinked and almost smiled as she glanced around Marrow and examined the Blight’s desolate landscape.

  Almost three million square miles of desert stretched out beyond her cousin. Not the desert of the Eastern Wilds, where sand dunes swelled and sloped like the waves of an ocean but the harsh, broken desert that orcs had thrived in for millennia. Towering crags and remains of ancient towers peeked out from under an alien shroud of rocks and desert plants. As frozen spirits whipped through the canyons, walking-cactus flowers bloomed under the moonlight, glowing spores swirling on the breeze. The distant call of wyverns echoed in between the pale peaks. The tremors of great centipedes tunneling through the ground rumbled under Gore’s feet. She gripped her pistol.

  She had no plans of becoming anything’s dinner.

  Before the Grand Prix, at least.

  “Damn… It’s kinda beautiful. In a quiet sort of way,” murmured Marrow while Gore hopped out of the Magnum Orcus and joined her cousin in examining the Blight.

  “But it earned its name for a reason,” growled Gore even though she agreed with Marrow, shaking her head. “We couldn’t stay here. Not after the elves unleashed their magic. Not after we lost the war…”

  She turned to the distant peaks at the center of the Blight. The symbol of the orcs’ greatest defeat. The symbol of their broken nature. Then Gore shuddered and looked away. Footsteps crunched behind her. Gore turned around as Aunt Iron Tusk jumped out of the tow truck.

  “How much further we got? I can see Durotaki’s peak just a few clicks to the south,” hissed Gore while her aunt took a position at her side. “But I don’t see any cars yet.”

  “Patience, irāmutu,” growled Aunt Iron Tusk, raising a hand and closing her eyes. She took a long sniff. Then the old orc smiled and laughed, “You young ones rely too much on your eyes… hehehe… you can come out now, tamaiti.”

  As a rock cracked apart behind her, Gore cursed and raised her pistol.

  Three shadows emerged from a patch of walking-cactus.

  One of them, the largest, smacked the smallest shadow’s head as he snarled, “Damn it, Butt-monkey. I told you to roll in sand for a good hour before coming to the stakeout.”

  “I did! I did!” cried the little orc, retreating under his big brother’s blows. “I just get all sweaty when I—”

  “Enough. Enough of your jagding antics,” growled Gore, jabbing her pistol at Asshole. “Just—”

  The last shadow, Taint, snarled and aimed a Dakka right at Gore. The orc growled, “Put your gun down before I blow your brains out, jagding whore bitch slut.”

  “And you shouldn’t threaten my cousin,” hissed Marrow, pulling out a throwing knife. The steel glittered in the moonlight.

  “You seriously brought a knife to a gunfight?” asked Butt-monkey as he chuckled and pulled out a bolt caster from behind his back. Though he stumbled from the weight, the little orc leveled the massive gun at Gore’s head. “Come on. Try me.”

  “No. You try me,” hissed Marrow. Gore gulped and narrowed her eyes. The young orc’s hand trembled.

  “Ah, the good old orc standoff,” rumbled Aunt Iron Tusk, shaking her head and stepping forward between the orcs. She motioned for Gore to lower her pistol. Gore refused. “Haven’t been in one of these in a long time. But we all know how they end…”

  “I’m keen on not letting that happen quite yet. I got too many other siblings waiting for me back home,” muttered Asshole as he reached out and lowered his brothers’ guns. Then, gesturing for his brothers to follow suit, he bowed down. “Iron Tusk… the fabled Desert Wyvern… it’s an honor to meet you.”

  “Oh my… to think I would find a fan this far out in the wasteland. But that’s ancient history. Just let those revenants lie,” laughed Aunt Iron Tusk, glaring at Gore. She motioned Gore to put her pistol down.

  Gore sighed and
lowered her gun as well. Rubbing her temples, Gore growled, “So… Asshole, I’m assuming you’re here to take us to the starting line.”

  “Yeah. As always… follow me in the Magnum Orcus. And try to stay quiet.” Asshole gestured for Gore to get into the Magnum Orcus while he walked back over to the patch of walking-cactus. Slapping aside probing branches, he pulled a trio of motorcycles out from the underbrush. As well as a few brooms. “Butt-monkey, Taint. And Iron Tusk? Can I borrow your boy, ma’am?”

  “Sure, I got plenty of them,” rumbled Aunt Iron Tusk, gesturing to the dozens of shadowed figures emerging out of the brush around the tow truck.

  Eyes widening, Asshole whistled, “Impressive.”

  Not as impressive when crammed into one car. More cramped and filthy beyond all reason. But impressive nonetheless. Gore hopped into the Magnum Orcus and keyed the ignition. The Magnum Orcus roared to life, hunger filling Gore’s limbs. The core hummed, power waiting to be unleashed. Gore only prayed the power boost could propel her over the finish line.

  “Okay… well then, have your boys work behind the Magnum Orcus with brooms and some plants to erase our tracks and scents,” growled Asshole, white eyes flicking from side to side, scanning the horizon. Then he nodded and jumped onto his motorcycle. “Gore, follow me. And be quiet!”

  “A little jumpy today,” growled Gore as she eased the Magnum Orcus off the tow truck and started following the orc down a narrow trails in the walking-cacti, diving into one of the countless canyons.

  “What? Oh, sorry. I was distracted,” muttered Asshole. Gore raised an eyebrow. The orc tapped his hands against his handle bars in a quick, erratic tempo. “Sorry for the precautions. We’ve gotten word there’s gonna be a huge operation by the Fuzz soon. So we’re a little on edge.”

  “Oh? How large?” Was the Grand Prix in jeopardy? Would Gore have to worry about cops?

  Gore sighed. Bring them on. Not as if her life could get any worse at this point.