Chapter 10
Holy Hellhounds, this is insane.
Like, I’ve seen some shit in the last twenty-four hours, right? Torn through into another dimension, grown dog balls, and then my cousin turns up and says I’ve been missing for a year.
But this is next level, balls-to-the-wall, mines of Moria nightmare fun—creepy dead monster whack-a-mole.
And I’m the goddamn hammer.
A hammer made of fanged, sinewy, unadulterated terror.
There’s a reason hellhounds are the bringers of nightmares, bitches. Mwahahah.
I’ve just finished ripping apart some gnarly bone-dude, you know, the kind that cracks like dry twigs under my paws, when I notice the big bull is down and struggling.
Not on my watch.
I’m the Hound of Hell…hear me woof.
I launch myself towards him, a streak of malice and muscle. My white bull friend must have ten skelly-monsters on him. Not for long, here I come.
With one savage bound, I land on top of bully and wa-pow. I love my paws. I destroy several of the bony bastards with casual swipes until the bull finally manages to stand and shake off the last few.
His chest rumbles so violently that it knocks me off my feet, but I take it that’s a minotaur's way of saying thanks. I give what I think is a wink, but with these flaming hound eyes, who the hell knows?
I’m feeling pretty pumped when—whoosh—a golden arrow flies past my muzzle, nearly clipping a fang.
A Godsdamn golden arrow.
It smashes through a skeleton that was just about to launch itself on my neck. Bone chips are sent flying like confetti at a skeletal wedding party.
Whoosh.
Another arrow. It destroys a skeleton that looks like some unholy cross between an ostrich and an alligator. An ostri-gator? And it was about to stab me in the ass with its toothy-beak thing.
Nutso.
Cosmo, bless his rage-filled heart, is going full dragon, his fire breath turning the pit into a Godsdamn inferno. It feels good.
Feels good to destroy the things that might hurt the girl. Feels like I might be a good dog again.
I glance back. The scent of her blood still in my nose from earlier. It drives me insane. I roar, channeling all that self-loathing into a massive swipe that sends three skeletons flying into the abyss.
Nobody else touches her. Only me. And I’ll never hurt her again.
More arrows are flying, ripping through bone and shadow, and oh, fuck! Dono the pony-boy is the one with a bow and arrow. Where the hell did he pull those out from? His ass cheeks?
I try to summon a bazooka. Nothing. Just air.
Lame.
And shitballs, these bony fucks just keep coming.
Lexi is blasting some fancy smash spells, but no matter how many times we splat them, they reform like a wily blob of mercury, just reforming and ready to be crunched again.
It’s like a never-ending buffet of bone and rage.
“RETREAT!” Someone yells, and as much as I’m enjoying this glorious smashfest, it’s not a stupid idea.
I mean, these skeleton monsters can’t actually die. We’ll be stuck in a perpetual bone-breaking loop of eternity unless something changes.
Snapping another weird skull in my jaws, crushing it like a grape, I bound around the pit, knocking skeletons back into the abyss with my massive paws—pow, pow, pow.
These bony bastards are gonna rue the day they messed with…
“MAX!!!”
Who me?
Looking around, I see everyone is scampering off down the tunnel. Cosmo is back in his studly man-bod, and Donovan's got the chick mounted on his back, looking like the happiest pony in ponyland.
I meet eyes with Alexis, and giving a doggy grin, swipe one last bone-baby into the hole, then head his way. My cousin nods, then runs, following the minotaur who moves super-fast in a ground-eating stride.
I prance around in circles at the back of the group, making sure nothing follows us. You know, because I’m a professional guard dog these days.
Disappointingly, though, nothing comes after us. Absolutely nothing.
Now we’re on our lonesome again, the big bull heads up the tunnel to take point once more.
I quite like having him as the captain of our ship.
The minotaur is weird and mysterious; I’d much rather have someone like that leading us than Alexis, who I love, but for fucks sake, he needs to get the stick removed from his ass.
Always so uptight about things like ‘consequences’ and ‘probable death’.
Seriously, live a little, Lexi.
I glance at Donovan's back, where a golden quiver gleams next to his lady passenger. Definitely getting a little gear-envy. How come he gets to be Legolas with his fancy bow and arrows? Plus, Cosmo can fly and has flame-thrower breath. What about me?
Where's my goddamn DLC?
Me and the minotaur are due for an upgrade.
We pad along for a while, Alexis throwing out these glowy ball spells, casting shadows that make us look like extras from Nosferatu, until he calls a halt. I give a doggy grin as Cosmo grumpily smooths his hair and straightens his shirt.
I’m sure the grime of this tunnel is just too much for his poor little sensitivities to bear.
After a moment of consideration, I shift back to my human form because, let's be honest, I've got questions.
Now fully dressed again (it’s so weird how our clothes just rematerialize), I pull off my tee, mop up the sweat from my face and torso, then stalk over to the centaur. “Where did you get your Zelda kit, Hart?" I demand, giving Donovan a good thump on his horsey flank.
Theo looks down at me from his back, and I give her a wink. “Did you see me save the minotaur, sweetheart? He was gonna be down and out if it hadn’t been for me.” I feel like I have to spell it out. If I’m the hero now, maybe she'll forget I was the monster who made her bleed earlier.
“Thank you,” she says, “really.”
I crook a finger at her, beckoning her down.
She leans low on Dono’s back. “What?” she asks.
I tap my cheek. “I need a reward kiss, just the cheek though.”
“I don’t think so.” She blushes, it’s adorable, and I’m so fucking glad she doesn’t flinch away from me.
I turn to Dono. "But seriously, the archery gear? What's the deal?"
He shrugs and grins. “Beats me. I was cursing my lack of horns, fangs, dragon breath, you know, and then bam! Instant bowman.”
“The centaur was a natural-born archer, so I’d imagine your form is blessed with the weaponry of your lineage,” Alexis says, sounding like a boring teacher. He’s always been a nerd, but he’s leveled up to full poindexter since the last time I saw him.
I tune him out slightly, focusing on the cute chick.
“Do dragons or minotaurs have traditional weapons?” she asks, her voice soft.
“Minotaurs? I’m pretty sure they would have an axe, something like that,” my cousin answers. “Dragons, though…I think they were, or are, just imbued with natural weapons. Fire, teeth, claws.”
“Don’t keep me in suspense, what about hellhounds, Cuz?” Laser Beam-eyes would be cool.
"As far as I can remember,” he says, a wry grin on his face. “Hellhounds don't have any gadgets, sorry, Max."
I’m not fazed. "No biggie. I guess I don't need any tricks to be a harbinger of doom." I flex my fingers and make a couple of practice claw swipes.
"You're not necessarily a portent of disaster," Alexis sighs, ever the buzzkill. "Though knowing you, you could easily be. Hellhounds can also be hunters or guardians."
"Hunters, huh?" I repeat, letting the word roll around my tongue. "Yeah, I could get into hunting. Especially if the prey is pretty."
I give the Theo chick a flirty look. She really is very pretty.
“Do you think Wes had to fight against those skeletons too?” she whispers.
Shit, Wes. Gods, Wes. Where are you?
Hopefully, he also turned into a centaur, then he can gallop away from any trouble. Right?
The girl is looking at the minotaur like he might know the answers. I guess if anyone does, it’s the labyrinth-tour guide dude.
Cosmo runs a hand through his golden locks, looking ridiculously East Coast yacht club for a guy who’s just fought off wraiths from another dimension. “Anyone got thoughts about what those things are?” he says in his posh-twat voice.
I know the twins love this guy, but Cosmo’s douche-to-decent-person ratio is skewed well onto the douche side, most of the time.
“No idea, but it seems like they weren’t able to follow us,” old Lexi says. “Maybe they’re tied to that area of the tunnels? But there definitely could be more obstacles ahead,”
“This is all feeling a little Indiana Jones," Donovan adds.
"Booby traps would be alright," I chime in, "if they had actual boobies."
I'm met with a wall of silence. Whatever.
"Hey, big dude," I say, addressing the minotaur with a grin. "How about you and me lead? You know these tunnels like the back of your hand, right? And I…” I tap my nose, “...have got a nose for trouble. Literally. Canine senses, remember?"
The minotaur lets out a grunt, and there's a flicker of something in his eyes—probably agreement and approval.
"Alright," I say, clapping my hands together. "You guys stick close. I’ve got this.”
“Has there ever been an occasion when you said ‘I’ve got this’ and things worked out?” Cosmo drawls as I flex my muscles and get ready to shift.
“Max! Can you wait a minute? We need to think about next steps,” Alexis adds boringly. It’s no wonder I’m his only friend.
But the minotaur is on my side, because he turns and begins to lumber down the tunnel. I shift back and pad along next to him, my senses on high alert. When the bull takes a sharp right, a new smell catches my attention.
Amidst the damp earth and death scent is something lighter, cleaner, and positively bright. It smells like green. Like sun-baked grass and freedom.
Ooh! It's a shiny, outside smell!