The Land: Catacombs (Chaos Seeds Book 4) (9 page)

The tentacle still held him aloft and had twisted his body around as it tightened.  This was good news because it let him face the wall where the monster was fighting his saproling.  If the tentacle were still behind him, he would not have been able to hit it effectively with his sword.  In this position, though, Richter was able to first bring the sword across his body and then swing at the tentacle with a mighty backhand.

The clear green blade refracted the light slightly as it arced through the poorly lit cave.  Richter’s vision was starting to darken when the blade hit the tentacle.  His teeth bared in a grimace triggered by both pain and a desperate need to free himself from the aberration’s grasp.  The oxygen wasn’t the problem—Richter knew for a fact that he could hold his breath for minutes.  The lack of blood flow was another matter.  If he didn’t get free in the next few seconds, he would lose consciousness.  Once that happened… game over. 

Time seemed to slow for Richter.  External sounds faded as all he could hear was a ringing in his ears and a distant thud from a just finished heartbeat.  Once the sword touched the tentacle, though, he rejoined the world jarringly, and a horrifying screech filled the air.  Each of the aberration’s mouths was wide open and caterwauling at different tones, from a deep roar to a ladylike scream.

His blade had struck the black tentacle a foot from his face.  It was more than close enough for him to see a flash of blue-white frost when it struck.  The elementum blade sank easily into the octopus-like limb and cut more than halfway.  Richter yanked his arm down, sawing the length of his short sword the rest of the way through.  The severed end of the limb whipped back and forth, spraying black blood across Richter’s face and body.  He didn’t care, though, because he was in the process of falling to the floor.

He was able to land on his feet, but he still collapsed to his knees due to his blood-starved brain.  The severed rubbery tentacle was no longer squeezing with crushing force, but it remained tightly wrapped around his neck.  Richter dropped his sword and grabbed the bleeding stump with both hands.  He started unwinding it from around his neck, but when he was half done, it seemed to stick.  He heard a sound like a tree limb breaking and assumed that the saproling was not faring well.  Richter gave a mighty yank, and a sucker came free, ripping a set of sharp teeth free as well.  A red teardrop icon appeared in the corner of his vision, indicating bleeding status.  Richter felt blood flowing freely down his neck and chest. 

The blood loss of five HP per minute was minor compared to his five hundred and eighty-nine health point total, so he didn’t hesitate to rip the rest of the suckers free.  Two more teeth-filled suckers were attached, and the teardrop grew a deeper red in color, but he was finally able to breathe unencumbered.  His head was spinning, but Richter heard more sounds of breaking wood.  He didn’t have the luxury of recovery time.  He grabbed his sword with one hand and tried to cast
Slow Heal I. 
Nothing more than a rasp came out.  Another loud crunch resounded in the cavern.  It drew Richter’s gaze to the battle between his saproling and the dark aberration. 

Pieces of wood littered the ground, and he could see that the saproling’s legs had been ripped off.  The forest creature had not finished fighting, however.  Large thorns had sprouted along the entire length of its body, and it was clawing furrows in the dark aberration’s tentacles.  The only problem was that there were still so many tentacles to fight.  Richter’s summoned creature still had not gotten close enough to score against the monster’s body.  As he watched, five more tentacles wrapped around the saproling despite the damage the spikes caused.  The tentacles tightened, and wooden creature inside the vise started to convulse in a hopeless attempt to escape.  Richter knew he didn’t have much time.  Once the saproling was disposed of, the aberration would devote its sole attention to him.  Without the ability to cast magic, he wouldn’t last five seconds. 

Richter pulled an enhanced health potion out of his Bag and downed it.  He immediately felt the holes in his neck begin to close and the soreness in his throat start to ease.  Whether the potion was strong enough to repair his bruised voice box was anyone’s guess.  In hopes of bringing himself back to full fighting potential, he also released the power of his Ring of Healing. 

That done, Richter sheathed his sword while the saproling continued to be slowly crushed into oblivion.  The aberration whipped a free tentacle in his direction, but Richter was already moving backwards.  He rolled out of the way and stood, sheathing his short sword.  In a now practiced motion, he reached into his Bag of Holding and drew out his Recurve Bow of the Wood Sprite as if he were drawing a blade.  After it was fully clear of the space-folding properties of the Bag, he let the smooth wood slide through his hand until he reached the handle and with his other hand he pulled an arrow from the quiver on his back and nocked it to the string.  The entire process took less than two seconds. 

Without the ability to speak, he only had one other type of magic available to him.  His first type of magic.  The sprite ability to
Imbue
his arrows.  The glow around the arrow started as a pure gold.  A second later a dark tinge could be seen on the surface of the golden shell.  More cracking sounds reverberated through the chamber, and the saproling’s head was now whipping violently back and forth as it tried to free itself.  Just hold on a little longer, Richter thought with silent urgency.  Another second passed, and black streaks appeared on his golden arrow.  He had to resist the urge to try and force more mana into the arrow.  That simply wasn’t the way sprite magic worked.  Instead, Richter had to relax and let the magic flow through him and into the arrow.  So that’s what he tried to do.  Another second passed.  The streaks flowed faster.

Richter kept drawing mana from the village reserves.  He watched as another tentacle snaked over to wrap around the saproling’s head.  With a final tightening, the monster wrenched the saproling’s head free.  The rest of the wooden limbs lost all life and movement.  In the dim light shining on the aberration, Richter saw several of the eyes that were sunk into its body turn in his direction.  He was out of time. 

With a shout that he hadn’t been capable of moments before, Richter let the arrow fly.  The aura around it had gained enough power that the black line adopted a swirling candy cane appearance before it left his bow.  Even though the distance was small, Richter used
Focus
, magnifying his target by 2.4x.  He couldn’t risk hitting the sea of tentacles.  The damn thing just seemed to shrug that off.  So he aimed for the most vulnerable spot he could see.

The arrow moved across the twenty yards at a speed of hundreds of miles per hour.  As fast as the tentacles were, they couldn’t intercept the glowing projectile.  It threaded the needle through more than a dozen writhing tentacles and reached its target, the largest open mouth that Richter could see.  The parrot-like beak was a foot across and two feet high.  It was open in a raucous scream of triumph over crushing the saproling.  As soon as Richter had seen the mouth open, he’d thought, Keep laughing, muthafucka!

The arrow impacted just as he had hoped, several inches inside of the hooked bill.  A deafening boom sounded inside of the cavern, staggering Richter.  Less than a second later, the shockwave from the powerful impact finished the job and knocked him down.  Richter didn’t mind.  He knew he had hurt his enemy.

Even though his ears were ringing, he could still hear the piteous cries coming out of the dark aberration’s remaining mouths.  He looked up from his crouched position and saw a large crater where the mouth had been.  Three of the tentacles near the impact site lay limp.  The rest moved in different directions without rhyme or reason.  Pieces of black blood and flesh fell from the wound.

Richter stood and nocked another arrow, but had no time to
Imbue
it.  With a furious roar, the aberration flowed to the floor like oil.  Richter released his arrow, but it just struck the body of the monster, barely penetrating its resilient skin.  Meanwhile, it quickly scurried towards him, half of its tentacles acting as legs. 

Richter’s hastened body let him at least match the monster in speed.  He dropped his bow and slapped both wrists together.  Bracing one foot behind him in a staggered stance, he dual cast
Flame I. 
His fear and anger made his will powerful.  For the first time he had no difficulty at all forcing the words out, and his fingers almost danced as he completed the one-second incantation. 

A gout of orange flame shot from his hands and bathed the aberration in fire.  The mouths started screaming again, but it didn’t stop coming.  Some of the tentacles formed a shield to block the body from the worst of the damage.  Richter tried to pour more power into the spell, but he couldn’t increase the DPS just by force of will.  The lance of fire burned the front tentacles to char, but precious little damage was done to the main body.  Before Richter could do anything else, one of the undamaged tentacles grabbed his leg and pulled him off his feet.

Richter fell hard and struck his head.  For the first time, he experienced spell feedback.  The Power he had been channeling stopped flowing out of him and bottlenecked inside of his own body.  Richter felt a moment of blinding pain and then… nothing.  He had been dazed and confused before, but he had never felt anything like this.  Richter was conscious of his own existence, but all sensations fled.

The only saving grace was that he had only been channeling a novice-level spell.  The spell feedback was not prolonged, but it was still more than enough time for Richter to be put at the mercy of the aberration.  When he came to, the aberration had a tentacle wrapped around each of his arms and legs.  Richter was spread-eagled and was being held several feet in the air.  He had no idea why he was still alive.  Why would the monster have left him alive?

That was when it spoke.

“Ssssso you are the new masssster.”

Of course, the evil tentacle monster can talk, Richter thought.  The mouth that was speaking had a long forked tongue set between thin lips.  As he hung there, he watched the various eyes opening and closing.  More than one of the eyes seemed lazy and appeared to be looking just past him.  For some reason, as he hung there at the mercy of this freak of magic, the fact that he didn’t know which eye to stare at irritated the shit out of him. 

“Do you know what your people have done to us?”
the aberration asked.  This time, it was a different mouth.  The tones had the musical cadence of the wood elves and the language was in wood elf speak as well. 

Richter tried to yank one of his arms free, but the monster just tightened its grip.  He felt one of the suckers pierce the flesh of his leg and then felt that horrible draining sensation again.

“Don’t do that,” the creature said.  The mouth speaking was small, with human lips.  Horrifyingly, it was the voice of a young girl.  “We had to wait soooo long for you to wake up!”

“Well, not that long,” said a mouth with a sultry woman’s voice. “Only a few minutes.”

“It
felt
like a long time!” The child mouth pouted.  Then it giggled. “If you want to keep being bad, though, you will have to be punished!”

All of the tentacles tightened more, and Richter’s shoulder and hip sockets ached from the strain.  His eyes almost screwed shut, but then a tentacle moved towards his face.  Richter braced himself to be choked again, but it just gently caressed his face.  The mouths started chuckling evilly, then the tip of the tentacle was at his mouth, trying to force its way in.  Richter screwed his lips tight and twisted his head to the side, but a tentacle wrapped around his neck to keep his head still.  Soon he felt the tip pressing against his lips again, trying to wriggle its way inside.  This can’t be happening! he thought.

Richter’s fingers were still free, but with his arms and legs spread as they were, his
Ice Dagger I
and
Flame I
spells would just shoot off into darkness.  As the tentacle poked at his lips, the horrifying laughter coming from the dark monster deepened.  The strength in the tentacles holding his arms and legs was massive.  He had no doubt that the black tip pressing on his lips could force its way in if it really wanted to.  The damn thing was toying with him.

“Shhh, shhh, shhh,” the sultry mouth said to the other voices.  “The young master here should know why he is so important to us.  We have been trapped here for so many years, living off of the ambient Dark energy of this Place of Power.”  The voice turned wistful. “You should have seen us in the past.  We were so much stronger… grander.”  The mouth smiled at Richter, showing a set of yellow, rotted teeth. “Now you are here, though, and everything will be better!”  The chuckling began again.

Another voice started speaking in the gruff tones of a male dwarf. “You will join us.  We will add you to us.  The last time we added a Master we were well fed for a century!”  The tone grew insidious and teasing. “Now would you like to know
how
we are going to add you?”

Richter wanted to try to bargain with the thing, but he didn’t dare risk opening his lips.  The questing tentacle traced the outline of his mouth.  This shit CANNOT be happening, he thought again.

“We just have to put a bit of us inside you and leave it there.  If you die before you get it out, we can absorb you!” the child voice said, giggling.  “Of course, if you don’t want us to go in from the top there is
another
option.”  Yet one more black appendage snaked forward.  It touched the calf of his left leg, then slowly slid upward.  The tentacle at his mouth started poking the center of his lips again.  It would try to wriggle inside, withdraw an inch, and then poke his mouth again.  He couldn’t even move his head away because of the vise-like grasp the aberration had on his neck.  The tentacle between his legs latched onto the small space near his groin that his greaves left unarmored.  A sucker attached to his pants and the sharp teeth sunk through the fabric and into the meat of his thigh.  The black feeler gave a sudden wrench downward.  Both Richter’s pants and the meat of his thigh tore free.  A large chunk of Richter’s flesh was still attached to the tentacle.