A Bored Lich - Chapter 368

“Are you kidding me?” Thomas cried out as the lycanthrope’s jaws emerged from the floor, latched onto his arm, and dragged him down into a bedroom no bigger than his own.

He allowed walls to trap him but the beasts tore right through them.

Pain didn’t shoot through Thomas’s back as he was slammed to the floor. Instead, he felt the violent impact splay his body out and an unconscious groan escaped his lips.

The young noble recovered in an instant, kicking and pulling at the labyrinth of jagged teeth to free himself. The fangs only sunk further into his shoulder, until he wrapped himself in dark blue life essence. “Get a taste of that, asshole!”

The lycanthrope growled and brought out its own life essence, as dark and as blue as Thomas’s.

Two forces grated against one another with an ear-piercing shriek. Thomas felt his bones shatter as the wolf punched through his life essence. Losing an arm didn’t matter, not when he had another one. The lycanthrope was wide open.

Thomas drew a dagger with his remaining hand and drove it into an eye, then into a second, then into…a third?

The lycanthrope wasn’t just a wolf, it was a dire wolf. Four sets of slitted eyes (minus three) stared him down. Its entire body was covered in barbed bone. Its tail swung back and forth, behind spikes protruding out of its back.

The lycanthrope tore Thomas’s arm loose with one final snarl, then snapped at Thomas’s chest, hitting the empty hardwood as he rolled to the right and to his feet. ‘There’s an opening every time it lunges at me,’ he thought. ‘It puts all its weight into its front paws, making it hard to dodge. If I get this wrong, it’ll take my other arm…’ He crouched and goaded the monster into attacking. It lunged for the final blow.

Fangs clamped around empty air as Thomas slid under it, arriving within arms length of its unprotected throat. His dagger raced into a mess of tangled fur and came out clean on the other side.

He missed?

No. It had feigned the lunge, instead reeling back a massive paw.

Thomas couldn’t get into his stance in time so he tightened his grip around his small piece of metal.

Four long claws smashed through his shoddy block. Thomas reeled back from the blow, the reverberations biting into his palm. His legs struggled to find footing. He only needed a moment to get his back off the ground but the rabid animal mauled him relentlessly.

He had to get away. He had to run. His whole body creaked like the ruin.

Another paw ripped through the metal plates covering his heart, sending sparks into his eyes. He pulled his legs back and around them around the paw so when it lifted into the air he was taken with it. He nearly let go as the only thought in his mind was back to his stance.

Who cared about a stupid stance? He saw red. He lashed out at the closest thing to him: a paw. The stupid thing had broken his bones so it was only fair that he return the favor by dragging his blade through its joints, spraying a fountain of blood across his face. The lycanthrope let out a mournful howl and he stabbed it again.

Stupid.

Fucking.

Wolf.

Die.

The paw stomped him back down, pressing into his soft chest. A stifled groan forced its way out of Thomas’s throat.

The lycanthrope had claws, teeth, and its massive weight. It pressed them all down onto him. One paw held his remaining arm down. No more stabbing. The other paw held his chest. The fangs held his severed arm, as if to taunt him.

The lycanthrope paused. It chewed on the limb, slowly. It almost seemed to release a part of its grip.

Thomas kicked and struggled but nothing worked. His spear lay away in the opposite corner, not that he could use it with only one arm left. His dagger was still in his hand. He could move his wrist but that was all. His dagger and spear, however, were not all he had.

He threw his dagger into his spatial ring, replacing it with a metal tube. He turned his wrist as far towards the creature as he could and pulled the trigger. A resounding blast echoed throughout the ruin. The lycanthrope reflexively leapt back, more because of the bright blast than the pinching pain in its neck.

Finally, Thomas returned into a stance. He swapped his pistol for his dagger. It might have surprised the lycanthrope but it couldn’t do any real harm. Besides, he only had one pistol. If he had stolen any more than that, Alexander might have noticed. His body tilted to the side.

He caught himself on a bedside. ‘I guess I took more damage than I thought. I can’t get caught again. That pistol won’t work a second time. Maybe I should use some of my vials.’ His hand flew to the vials wrapped around his waist. ‘A few of them broke in the struggle but those ones were mostly for utility. I still have some acids and venoms. I have to find another opening.’

He waited but the lycanthrope didn’t pursue him. Instead, it continued to chew on his severed arm as if there was something special about it. It grimaced. Apparently, dead flesh tastes horrible. It coughed up the limb and licked the ground to get the taste out of its mouth.

Thomas smiled. ‘Guess I even taste like a dead person, don’t I?’ A burst of steam sprouted out of his shoulder, forming into a skeletal arm. His body shrunk a bit and he winced as a ravenous hunger rose up.

Hunger was the only pain that he could feel anymore. It beat his stomach relentlessly as not only was his arm beginning to regenerate, but also the broken parts on the inside of his body. It would take time, and Thomas didn’t know if he would be of sound mind when it finished.

His consciousness dangled by a thinning rope above a dark, hungry abyss. If he was grabbed again, arm wouldn’t be the only thing he would lose. He had to finish it.

Thomas blinked and black filled his eyes. He blinked again and it receded. “Come on, I don’t have all day,” he said, imitating Alexander.

The lycanthrope wrapped life essence wrapped around its body and its wounds healed in moments.

Thomas forced a smile. “Of course you learned how to heal yourself.”

The lycanthrope eyed him, the severed arm, then the dagger. “What manner of creature are you?” A voice called out.

Thomas looked around but there was no one else, no one but the creature. “You…talked?”

The lycanthrope ignored his remark: “You smell as I do, but slightly different. We are kin, originating from this world’s darkness.” It sniffed the air. “I can sense that you have the same hunger as me. Because of that, I’ll let you leave. Don’t return. This is my territory.” Each word had a gritty growl behind it. He spoke like a human but it did not look human. Thomas almost expected someone to reveal himself.

The lycanthrope didn’t apologize. After all, what would Thomas do to it? What could a one-armed human do?

A second gout of steam erupted from Thomas’s shoulder. He hid the skeletal arm behind his back. He could feel tendons attaching to bone. His hunger increased twofold. His consciousness sunk deeper as the rope continued to thin. He had to finish the fight, but something inside of him wanted to talk to the lonely monster, one of two within the ruin. “I-I can’t leave yet so how about we introduce ourselves. I’m T-Thomas, what’s your name?”

“Shay, now leave.” It licked the blood off its lips and winced. “I don’t want your stinking scent around this place. I’ve never tasted anything so foul.”

Thomas swallowed his saliva: “What do you plan to do with these people? The bandits are dead. You’ve saved the townsfolk already, haven’t you?”

“Aye, I’ve been saving them,” Shay said as he began to circle to his left side. He was more an animal that could speak rather than a human that could turn into an animal. He continued to sniff the air. He could have leapt and Thomas wouldn’t be able to dodge in time. Shay was stronger and they both knew it. “Back off. These people are mine.”

Thomas took a step back: “Why do you eat people when your mind is unaffected by your transformation? You’re a lycanthrope, right?”

Shay cocked his head to the side and Thomas knew he had caught its attention: “You know of my…condition? How?”

Thomas shrugged: “It doesn’t matter. Why do you eat people? You don’t have to fight wolf instincts. You aren’t a wolf. You don’t have to be one.”

Shay paused his crawl. By now, his fangs were so close to Thomas’s face that the young noble’s hair was blown back by Shay’s breath, which smelled of blood. Thomas could fit himself in that set of jaws and with a crunch he’d be done. It mewled over his words for a few moments: “I do not owe weaklings anything. Answer my question first: what are you?”

“A-a Shadox,” Thomas blurted out.

“A Shadox?” Shay repeated. “Never heard of it.”

“Nonetheless that is what I am,” Thomas insisted. “Now please, I want to know why you act like a monster.”

Shay narrowed his eyes: “If I tell you, will you leave me be? I would rather not have to clean your remains up.” Thomas nodded. The lycanthrope sat down but it still towered over him. “Very well.”

Thomas breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Please let this all be a misunderstanding.’

“Human, monster, you talk as if those two are different things. We are all monsters, especially you.”

‘Damn.’