Chapter 85 (and new art!) (Patreon)

Chapter 85

Ochre Line. Station 149. 

“Carl, Carl, I hit level 28 and I got a sponsor!” Donut said as I pulled myself to my feet. She gasped. “Carl, guess what? It’s Princess D’nadia of the Prism Kingdom! I love her!”

I shook my head. I still felt disoriented. Below, a clockwork Mongo was gingerly pulling on Gore-Gore’s loincloth in an attempt to get him away from the electrified rail. We needed to hurry this up. Once the next train came and crashed into the back of the line, it was possible these two cars could come crashing down. “D’nadia? Who was that again?” 

Donut glowered at me. “Carl, she’s probably watching right now. Tell her you’re sorry!” 

“I’m sorry Princess D’nadia of the Prism Kingdom,” I said. “Now who is she.” 

Donut sighed. “You sat right next to her when we were on Ripper Wonton’s show. She’s a Saccathian. A Sac. Really, Carl.” 

I remembered, then. It’d only been a few days. She was a tentacle-faced creature. Her country, planet, solar system, whatever, the Prism, was supposedly small but powerful. Princess D’nadia was very outspoken and seemed to spend most of her time traveling from talk show to talk show. I remembered she’d kept trying to grab my virtual hand. When the Skull Empire had accidentally killed Manasa—who had really been controlled by a brain parasite from the Valtay Corporation—in their attempt to assassinate us, D’nadia had been very upset. Huh, I thought. Two parties that were there during that incident had sponsored us. 

“Who’d you get?” Donut asked. 

“The Valtay Corporation,” I said. 

Carl: Not a word about them out loud. Borant hates them. They’re the ones who are trying to invade the Borant system. They’re the reason why the show started when it did. 

Donut: If Borant hates them, then why did they let them sponsor you?

Carl: Borant probably doesn’t have a choice. 

Donut: Does that mean you’re going to get really good stuff?

Carl: I don’t know. I hope so. But it might mean the opposite. It might mean Borant is going to try to get me killed much faster. The good thing is we make them a lot of money right now. We need to make sure we are worth more alive than dead. 

The last thing I wanted was to be a pawn in some intergalactic pissing match. I had enough to worry about already.

“Did you see the thing that said people watching our feed get commercials from our sponsors?” Donut said. “I hope Princess D’nadia has lots of different commercials. There’s nothing worse than the same ad showing over and over and over. When you left the TV on the old person channel, and I got stuck watching Matlock all day, it was the same help-I’ve-fallen-and-I-can’t-get-up ad every commercial break.” 

“We get another sponsor when we hit the fifth floor. And another on the sixth. So let’s make sure we get through this floor, and your fans will have a bit of variety.” 

“I think my fans should have a name, wouldn’t that be great? Like the Princess Patrol or something.” 

I grunted. “How about the Donut Holes?”

“Don’t be crude, Carl.” 

Below, one of the Mongos exploded as he accidentally touched a hunk of metal attached to the third rail. The second automaton grunted and pulled the Gore-Gore corpse harder, bringing the large body up against the wall of the channel. I reached down and looted him, receiving 498 gold and three items. An Ochre Line Engineer’s Key, a bottle of Rev-Up Magic Hair Restoration, and the neighborhood map. The moment I accepted the map, it populated my interface, not with the immediate area like it usually did, but with a map of the complete Ochre line, including all the stops and the current location of all the trains.  

“Oh, wow,” I said, zooming in and scrolling up and down the map. The info started at station 11 and went all the way up to 435. “Make sure you grab the neighborhood map. This is way more than we usually get.” This particular train line was shaped like a squiggle. Up the line, the trains continued to move. I could see all the dots on the trains, including the white dots of the conductor and engineers and grapples, along with the red dots of the Jikininki janitor ghouls and other monsters. I didn’t see any blue dots of fellow crawlers. The last train to get through station 149—the one I’d spray-painted with an X—appeared to be continuing its way up the tracks unhindered. It was just about to hit station 160. A traffic jam of trains appeared behind the one we’d crashed. If there was an “interdiction team” coming like Gore-Gore stated, I didn’t see any sign of them.

I did see a few oddities on the tracks. Since 151 was another transit station, the next station after this one that would have monsters was station 152. The tracks outside that station, along with 153 and 154, had monsters on them. I watched as one monster—something called a Drake Bitch—hit the electrified line and turned itself into an X. But more monsters appeared by the minute. 

The monsters are jumping on the track and walking up to station 155. The trains had stopped coming, and the creatures weren’t waiting any longer. It was going to take them a long time. There were miles between each station. That would soon start happening behind us, too. In fact, I could see the red dots of monsters moving between the crashed train cars behind us, though it didn’t appear they could get past the tangled wreckage. The ones ahead of us would have a long walk. The stations were pretty far apart, especially further up the line. 

The early stations were much closer, easily walkable. In fact, stations 11 through 72 were each about a city block or two apart from one another. We could walk that distance unhindered in a few hours. That was good to know. By comparison, stations 300 and 301 looked to be about 40 or 50 miles apart.

We went up the stairs to find Katia sitting on the ground, crying silently. She’d returned to her normal shape. She cradled her right hand in her left. I noted she’d gone up a level to 24. I was still at 29. 

“Are you okay?” I said, rushing up. 

She chinned at the hunk of metal on the ground. It was the chunk of armor that Gore-Gore had sliced off when she’d been protecting me. Only then did I see the splash of blood. 

She held up her right hand, which looked like a normal, unharmed hand. But as I watched, her palm reshaped and her four fingers disappeared. “He chopped my fingers off. When I healed, they didn’t come back.” 

“Oh no,” I said, sitting down next to her. “I’m sorry. I thought it was just part of your armor. We would’ve come back up sooner if we’d known you’d been injured.” 

She sniffed. “It’s stupid. I can build fingers from other parts of me. He didn’t really chop off my fingers. I’m like clay. All I lost was a bit of flesh. I had to take a ring off of my severed finger and put it on my new fingers. But part of me is gone. I’m losing myself.” 

“That’s not true.” I gently tapped her forehead. “Look. The real Katia is still there. They can cut everything else off, but you’re still you. Don’t let them break you. No matter what they do. Okay?” 

“Okay,” she said, getting to her feet. She did not sound convinced. She kept opening and flexing her hand. She swallowed and seemed to take a moment to steady herself. 

We needed to get her more armor. Much more armor. Her class and race was a perfect combination for the ultimate tank, but we weren’t taking advantage of it. I was worried how she’d react to the idea, but we needed to figure out a way to completely sheathe her in metal. She needed to be 90% metal, 10% flesh, not the other way around. 

“Have you ever had pho before?” I asked, pointing at the saferoom. “Let’s take a minute to refresh ourselves, and then we’ll hit the purple line and spend the rest of the day grinding as we ride up to 283.” 

“Hey, did you get a sponsor?” Donut asked as we walked. “I am sponsored by the beautiful and awesome Princess D’nadia of the Prism and Carl got the Valtay Corporation.” 

“I did,” Katia said as we entered the pho shop. “Mine is a princess too. It just says Princess Formidable of the Skull Empire.” 

~ 

“I wonder who this princess is,” Katia said as we ate our soup. She had Mordecai’s map out and was filling it in with the new Ochre line information along with new intelligence from the daughters. Donut was in the base taking a shower. Mongo remained with us, staring at me until I tossed a hunk of meat at him. “I haven’t gotten anything yet from her. Have you gotten anything?” 

“Not yet,” I said. I knew exactly who this princess was. Zev had mentioned her once, though not by name. King Rust was the orc leader of the Skull Empire. Prince Stalwart was the crown prince. Prince Maestro had been the second in the line of succession until he’d been disowned and then killed by the Valtay in retaliation for the botched assassination attempt that had killed Manasa instead of me. Zev had said that if Stalwart was disowned for his failed attempt, the sister would be next in line. I’m assuming it was this Princess Formidable. But was she now the first in line? Had Prince Stalwart been disowned?

“Hekla says she got sponsored by some interstellar ranch or something. They’re probably showing her viewers commercials for space hamburgers.” 

I sighed. This pho tasted like ass. The bopca running this joint had tried his best, but it was clear he didn’t know what he was doing. I edged the bowl to the table, and Mongo gleefully dunked his head in. 

“Look, I figured something out,” Katia said, pushing the giant paper forward. “If we get on the purple line and just ride to 283, it’ll take us like 20 hours. But if we get back on the yellow line and go to 157, we can get on something called the Dismemberment Limited. According to your friend Bautista, the Dismemberment Limited also stops at 281 on the Beige line. The Nightmare express stops at 283 on the Purple and Beige line, meaning if we take the yellow from this stop to 157, Dismemberment to 281, Beige to 283, we can be on the Nightmare Express and check out this mysterious stop number 436 in a couple of hours. Maybe less. This is much faster.” 

I just looked at her. “I don’t understand what the hell you just said, but I believe you.” 

She shrugged. “You should try riding the Tokyo subway when you only know Icelandic, German, Russian, and English,” she said. “I only went once when I was a kid, and it was a nightmare. This is much more straightforward once you have the map. We’re starting to gain more and more information.” She pointed to another line. “We should go to the rosso corsa line here and get all the information from one of their conductors. Or kill another engineer. If we get one more after that, maybe the bone line, I think that’ll be pretty good. I’ll be able to get us to any stop number 83 or higher in no longer than an hour or two, depending on the schedule of the named lines. If we can get a map that shows their positions, that’d be even better.” 

“Wow, that’s really good work,” I said, looking over her map. The whole mess of lines gave me a headache. I’d looked at DIY wiring diagrams that made more sense. “The problem is we don’t yet know if the named trains, like the Nightmare Express or the Dismemberment Limited, are safe.” 

“Of course they’re not safe,” Katia said. She finally noticed that Mongo was inching his way toward her own bowl of forgotten pho. She pushed it toward him. He made a joyful peeping noise and started slurping noisily. 

“You got that right,” I said as Donut emerged from the base. She was washed and shining. 

“The boss box was a bust,” Donut said. “All I got was a bunch of healing scrolls and a poison dart trap kit.” 

“That sounds awesome,” I said. 

“So what’s the plan?” asked Donut. 

I looked to Katia. “Lead the way,” I said. 

~

According to the sign outside of the Dismemberment Limited, the train came every 48 minutes. We didn’t know when it’d last been through, so we sat down to wait. It was a short loop, and we needed to get off on the very next stop, which was transit station 281. Since the whole loop was 48 minutes, I figured we’d be at our next transfer in probably only fifteen or twenty minutes. That seemed like it was too fast, but then I saw the tracks, and I understood. 

The station for the Nightmare Express had been twice as long as the regular platforms. The tunnel was bigger, too. That wasn’t the case with this train. The platform was actually smaller than usual. The tunnel appeared to be the same circumference as the colored lines. 

The track itself was a wide, flat platform with two metal beams running on either side. This was a monorail system. A maglev train. We’d had something similar in Seattle, though this looked much more futuristic.

Donut practiced with her Hole spell while we waited. I’d finally talked her into grasping it wasn’t useless. She managed to get it up to level two, which made a hole two inches deep. (The hole was really six centimeters deep, or three centimeters a level, which came out to 2.3 something inches. The dungeon used metric measurements for everything, but I still couldn’t get the imperial system out of my head. It was something I had to constantly deal with at work, and I’d gotten used to guess-converting. I had a unit conversion chart taped to the side of my toolbox.) Anyway, a level two Hole was deep enough for most non-reinforced doors. She could snap the spell on and off at will. For now she could only make a manhole-cover sized hole that’d last about five minutes if she didn’t turn it off early. 

I watched her as she placed a hole in the platform’s information sign. She made Mongo stick his head through it and snap, practicing a move we’d discussed. We called it Surprise One. When we were done, she snapped the hole off, and the sign returned to its previous form, undamaged.

“This is the greatest spell in the world, Carl. I need to train this up.” 

“Keep working on it.” 

While she practiced, I messaged Elle and Imani.    

Carl: Hey. You guys free? 

Elle: There you are. I was starting to get worried. Naughty boy. 

I spent some time explaining what we’d figured out. 

Imani: Carl, we should refrain from stopping any more trains until we have a solid plan of how to get out of here. If you stop a train and there are other crawlers behind you on the line, you might end up trapping them. And that’s a really bad idea. Worse than you think. 

Carl: So what was the deal with that stop you guys investigated? 

Elle: Drugs. This octopus lady has them all addicted to opiates. Painkillers. 

Imani went on to explain what they’d discovered. 

Every five stops, all the ones ending in a five or a zero, there was a set of tunnels. Each monster from the previous stops in that section would get off the train, and they’d line up by race, entering the tunnels. At the end of each passageway was a door with a slot on it. Behind the door was a monster called a Pooka. Imani described them as fuzzy, goblin-like creatures. They were neighborhood bosses. Each Pooka had a pile of potion vials, and it would hand out one to each monster through the door slot, who’d then take the vial and go through a swirling, one-way portal that’d return them to their station. 

The potions appeared to be a powerful, addictive, race-specific sedative. That explained why the monsters who missed their stops would panic. The monsters were only allowed one vial at a time, and each high would only last so long. Imani said it appeared the drug didn’t activate until they took it through the portal. So the monsters would get their vial, go through the portal to take it, and once the high started to wear off, they’d return to the train station to go get another.

Imani: The description of the vials says if the mobs don’t get their fix in time, something happens to them. They change physically. It’s like with the brindle grubs all over again, but this time it’s all the mobs on the floor. So every time we interrupt the trains, it sets off a chain reaction up and down the line for the monsters who can’t get their vial. 

Carl: And Krakaren? 

Imani: She’s the one making the individual drugs. I’m guessing since each vial is race-specific, there’s a different Krakaren borough boss at each one of those stops. She’s guarded by winged fairies and amped-up clurichauns. I wasn’t confident in our ability to face her, so I had the team back off. 

Elle: We could’ve taken her. Imani is too timid. I could’ve iced the whole lot.

Imani: The pooka monsters turn into giant goats when you attack them. So be careful if you face one. They’re tough. 

We agreed to meet up again soon at the Desperado Club so they could copy the map. It’d gotten too cumbersome to relay over chat. They wished us luck on the Dismemberment Limited. 

“I don’t understand. What’s the point of all this?” Katia asked after I relayed what the others had discovered. 

“I have a theory,” I said. “Mordecai told us that the NPCs and monsters are released into the game, and they have new memories each time. Right? But in the end, they’re still independent creatures. They’re not brainless mobs like one might find in a real video game. Getting one or two mobs to do something is probably easy. But controlling an entire group is probably harder than it sounds. They have emotions and motivations and their own lives. In order to get them to do something, they have to want to do it. The showrunners came up with this level with the trains, but they wanted the monsters to come and go every five stops, making it an engineering challenge. They had to come up with a universal way to make that happen. Why not have them all addicted to drugs? Now the monsters are more compliant, and they are looping and patrolling in a predictable pattern.” 

“So they took a whole floor’s worth of mobs and strung them out?” Katia asked. “That seems… overly complicated.” 

I grunted. “The whole thing is nuts. It’s set up to be this perfect, self-contained ecosystem. At least for a little while. I don’t know when these guys eat or sleep or whatever else. But the floor is designed to break the moment people start messing with the system. Imani says they change if they don’t get their drugs. I suspect we’re going to find out soon what that means. Train is coming. Get ready.” 

The train was almost silent as it pulled into the station. The sleek, white train’s first car was at a steep angle, an aerodynamic shape, followed by only two additional cars. The entire front cockpit was glass like the cockpit of a B-17 chin turret. Through the glass window, we could see the train’s operator. 

He was an odd-looking creature. My first thought was grim reaper wearing a poncho and mask. He noticed us on the platform the moment we saw him. And even though he had no physical eyes, I could feel his gaze upon us as we waited for the train to stop. 

Unlike the colored lines, we could enter this first car. In fact, I realized, there was only one pair of doors on the entire train, and they were near the front of the first car. It appeared the engineer was the only creature on board, at least in this first car. He was not in a separate room, but simply in a lowered, glass section up front with a dashboard of controls in front of him, like a regular bus driver. He sat on a little, bouncy seat. The glass, front section of the train was designed so when the train was moving, the engineer could look straight down and see the track rushing by. 

“No, please. Please don’t get on,” he said as the door hissed open. “Please. Find another away. We’re not open to Crawlers.” 

“Oh we’re not going to hurt you,” Donut said as she jumped on board. Mongo followed, with Katia and I taking up the rear. “Not as long as you don’t try to hurt us.” 

“What the hell is this?” I muttered, taking in the carriage. 

The train car wasn’t as broad as a regular coach, but there were no seats here. It was an open room, almost like a freight car. At the end of the car was a closed, sliding door leading to the next car. 

Every square inch of the car’s interior was covered in dried blood and gore. It smelled of rotting death. 

“This is disgusting,” Donut said. She jumped to my shoulder and started rapidly licking her paw. “I just took a shower.” 

“Please. It’s not too late,” the engineer said. “Get off now.” 

I turned to regard him. The sickly, pale creature sat in the chair, naked except for his engineer’s hat. What I’d taken for a poncho was actually just flesh that didn’t properly fit his form. He had no muscles or definition to his body. The green-tinted flesh hung off of him like a fitted sheet placed on a too-small bed. The right side of his face hung loosely. When he spoke, the hole for his mouth hung below the bottom of his jawline, and the words came from the nose holes. The nose itself appeared like it was supposed to be hooked, but it hung to the side, dangling like a used condom on the side of the creature’s face. The eye holes drooped, revealing yellow bone. Clumps of black hair clung to the head. 

Levi the Seventh – Troll Flesher and Hobgoblin Skellie Symbiote. Level 7. 

This is actually two creatures. Only when combined do they have intelligence and the ability to speak. The Skellie is your typical, run-of-the-mill reanimated skeleton. In this case, it’s the skeleton of a hobgoblin, one of the few monsters who are much more palatable in skeleton form. 

Of all the War Mage spells soldiers encounter during the brutal, mass combat that will occur on the ninth floor, the You’re Not Done Yet spell is one of the most terrifying. Fallen soldiers—in this example a Basher Troll—are cast with the spell, and their flesh is ripped from the body. This loose skin becomes a sentient minion called a Flesher. Fleshers are oftentimes tossed across the battlefield, landing in and around the trenches of the enemy. Fleshers have one goal. To find a new set of bones. 

Once they have found a victim, the skin unfurls and pounces, covering the body, smothering and melting it. Once dead, the rest of the victim burns away, and the Flesher casts the only spell it knows. Boned, which animates the remaining skeleton. 

The creature that eventually forms is no longer a minion to the original mage. Nor is it undead. It is new to the world, oftentimes confused and afraid. And weak. The Symbiote is very easy to kill. After a few hours have passed and the new Symbiote is complete, the combined creature becomes a target for other Fleshers, who are said to be drawn to their former companion’s new bones. If a Flesher kills a Symbiote, this second iteration is more intelligent and powerful than the last. 

There are rumors about oft-resleeved Symbiotes. After enough repetitions, it’s whispered they can become quite powerful. 

Here’s a neat tidbit of trivia. This is Levi the 7th. This quest has triggered six times now since the floor has opened. 

“Please,” Levi the 7th said as the door closed. It was already too late. “The back doors only open when Crawlers are on board. It hurts so bad when they get to me.” 

The train started to move. I steadied myself as it picked up speed. A timer appeared in my interface. 

Time to next stop 19 minutes.

“What’s on the other side of that door?” I asked Levi, even though I knew perfectly well what it was going to be. 

New Quest. 

This is a pass or fail quest. Failure has consequences. 

Do not allow Levi the 7th to be devoured by the Fleshers. This quest is active as long as you remain on the train. 

Reward: You will receive a Silver Quest Box. 

Failure: Every crawler on the train will be turned into a Flesher. 

I understood then why we hadn’t received any information from people who’d ridden the named lines. People died when they rode the named lines. 

I jumped into action. “Help me block out the door! Hurry!” I rushed for the back of the train as I pulled the gangway chock from my inventory. I now had several different versions of the blocking device, and the first one I pulled was too big. The thin but heavy chunk of metal caught on the ceiling when I pulled it, and I stumbled. I jumped back and let it fall to the floor. It crashed with a tremendous clatter. I pulled the next size down. It was just a large, flat chunk of metal, rounded at the top. This one was about a half of an inch thick and had to weigh 800 pounds. It was designed to be placed in the gangways, but this train didn’t appear to have spaces between the cars. 

“Oh god, they’re coming. I can feel them. Not again. They want my bones,” Levi called from the front of the train as I struggled with the second chunk of metal. I need to put handles on these. 

“He’ll take your skin and my bones,” Levi cried. “All is lost! I have been forsaken by the gods!” 

Katia rushed up and helped me push the flat metal plate against the doorway. It slammed heavily against the wall. I could hear the doorway screech as it slid open on the other side of the block. 

“We need to hold this in place,” I said, pushing myself up against it. Katia also leaned in. She flattened out her shoulder and added thickness to her legs, turning herself into a brace. 

“Carl, there’s hundreds of them,” Donut said, running up. “They just appeared on the map. The entire car is filled with them.” 

“They’re going to get in. They always get in,” Levi cried. “It’s the end. Oh god, it’s the end!” 

“Shut the hell up,” I snapped back. 

Thump. Thump thump. 

It sounded like dishrags slapping against the inside of the metal. They didn’t feel strong. Not yet. 

“The third car door opened!” Donut said. “Carl, it’s something else. It’s bigger.” 

Thwap!

That one I felt. Something powerful and magical had just slammed against the barrier. I prepared my Mist Armor spell. 

“What else is back there?” I yelled at Levi.

“It’s the war mage!” he cried. “Oh gods, he’s coming.” 

Whap! Another spell hit the barrier, tossing us back an inch. Katia and I slammed the metal back into place, but not before at least a dozen flaps of pink and green and brown flesh started to reach around the edges of the metal. We slammed hard against the metal plate, pinning the manta ray-like flaps of skin against the wall. 

The dots finally appeared on my minimap, hundreds of them all bunched up against the door. 

I looked up at the closest fragment of flesh, just above my head. The exposed skin was only about three square inches wide, brown and covered in hair, flapping up and down furiously.  

Minion of War Mage Dismember – Swamp Orc Flesher – Level 10. 

Ahh, isn’t it cute? It wants to give you a hug. 

As I pressed my shoulder against the metal, I reached up with my right hand grasped onto the flesh. I yanked, easily ripping the flesh away like I was tearing at plastic wrap. It made no sound. Blood seeped from the wound before the rest of it pulled away. I had no idea if this hurt the main part or not. My fingers burned, and I dropped the wadded hunk of flesh. I stomped it down. The back side of the plastic-like skin was caustic. 

The metal plate rocked again, but we were ready this time. Still, a few additional tendrils of flesh appeared along the edges. I was starting to feel pressure. I set my legs. 

“Donut and Mongo, get the flesh on the edges. Only touch the skin side!” 

I didn’t have to ask twice. Donut leaped to my shoulder and leaped again, scratching down the edge of the barrier where the metal met the wall, ripping at the flesh. Her claws dug so deep she left scars on the wall itself. The moment she ripped through the flesh, it retracted as if in pain, leaving a smear of blood. On the other side, Mongo scrabbled at the wall with his feet. Jumping and pushing off, ripping at large sheets of skin. The pressure at the door eased. 

I heard a deep squeal of rage from the other side. One by one, the red dots started to fall back. A new figure approached. It walked so it was right up against the other side of the metal. I felt it lean up against the barrier. It gave it a quick shove, as if to test our strength. The creature was strong, but we were stronger, especially combined.   

Twelve minutes and counting. 

“Do you really think I won’t have your skin?” a voice rasped through the metal. I pictured him there, whatever he was, head up against the metal. “Your friends were already on this train. Six other times. One group was much larger than your group now. They tried blocking the door too. Such beautiful leather. Come now. Open it up. Join us. It will only hurt for but a moment.”

I really wished I hadn’t been forced to use my Protective Shell earlier. If we got past this, we sure as hell weren’t going onto that Nightmare train until it was ready. 

The metal plate rocked. It wasn’t a spell, but the creature slamming it with his arms. 

Donut: Surprise One? Surprise Two?  

“What kind of creature is this mage?” I yelled down to Levi, who continued to whimper. 

“He’s a war mage!” 

“No shit he’s a war mage. What’s his race?” 

From the other side of metal, Dismember the War Mage started to laugh. 

“War mages are war mages. That one looks like an elf,” Levi called. 

I felt two hands slap against the metal. “We are not elves, you fool. I just need eight more iterations, and you’ll know, Levi. You’ll know exactly what we are! Eight more trips. Seven after I get past these fools!” 

“Stay the hell away from me, Dismember! You don’t control me anymore!” Levi cried. 

There was an odd crackling noise coming from the other side of the wall. He’s building up a spell. A big one. We need to hurry. 

Donut: Carl?  

Surprise two involved opening a hole and me dropping a bomb through. I still wasn’t too keen on the idea of blowing shit up inside of a moving train, especially after watching that last train wreck. With Surprise One, I wasn’t certain if a chomp from Mongo would be enough. 

Carl: Let’s do Surprise Three. 

Katia: We haven’t practiced that one yet. 

Carl: It’s not exactly something we can practice anyway. 

“On three,” I whispered, pointing to a spot on the metal. 

“Hey Dismember,” I said, speaking louder. “I want to tell you a secret.”  

“Oh we don’t have time for your secrets, you filthy crawler. Let me tell you a secret.” 

“Okay,” I said, holding up one finger. 

“After I knock this metal barrier down, I am going to send my minions in, and one of them is going to re-sleeve Levi. But they won’t kill you. I tell them to leave you alone.” 

“Go on,” I said, holding up a second finger. 

“And then I’m going to cast a spell that will peel the skin off of you and your friends. But I’m not going to kill you. I have another spell to keep you alive even after you’ve been de-sleeved. It will be a journey of pain unlike anything that has ever been experienced in this world. I’m going to...” 

I held up a third finger. 

A hole appeared in the metal plate. Fast as I could, I reached through, grasped the surprised elf-like creature by his long, silver hair, and pulled. The moment I pulled his head through the hole, Donut snapped off the spell. 

I let go, and the severed head dropped to the ground, mouth still open wide.  

“What was that, bitch? I didn’t quite get that last part,” I said.

***

Sorry for the slowness of the chapter. I was hoping to post this and the next chapter by today, but I had people in my house + my kid's birthday + me running out of town for a day to contend with, and it all added up to slowness on the chapter front.   

But while all that was going on, I spent some of the time working on the new cover art for the Amazon release of book 1 in October (which will be floors 1-2). I wanted something to differentiate from the RR cover.

I may spend my days working as a commercial artist, but I really suck at this sort of thing, so most of this was done by another artist. I did-repaint Donut and the head of Carl, which is why it looks a lot like the last cover. I also did all the typography. This is far from perfect for lots of reasons, but it's what I'm going with for now.

Once again thanks all for your support.