The Mook Maker

I dashed through the forest.

 

Hidden in the shadow roof of dense foliage, I quickly zoomed past the trees, dodging the lashing branches and leaping over old, moss-covered, overturned trunks. Quickly alternating between running on two legs, and on all fours whether the terrain demanded it, in fluid motion, never losing my footing, never slowing down.

 

It was a frantic experience, but it was also completely silent, like an old movie on fast forward.  

 

Finally, the lush greenery gave way to the blackened wasteland of the dead, scorched husks slowly consumed by twisted thorny creepers with violet leaves, hungrily devouring old to make the place for the new. 

 

There, in the shadow of the looming pagoda covered by the same twisted vegetation without order, fires burned, and the army of creatures camped, some roaming around vigilant while others napped under the cover of unnatural, corrupted flora. 

 

They were paying little mind to my passing, though a few giggled in the soundless grimaces I could merely see, and not hear, or waved as I slowed down to walk in the front of the decrepit house. 

 

Two anthropomorphic rat-girls, dressed in the makeshift scaled hauberks and armed with the polearms, stood guard, red eyes flashing under their helmets. Wordlessly, they let me pass as I pushed the door open.

 

I jolted awake. 

 

Startled and disoriented by the sudden transition, suddenly made aware I wasn’t, in fact, running. 

 

It was all but a strange dream, less graphic than the nightmares that woke me the past two nights. 

 

I was lying down in the warm, fluffy embrace of Miwah, her furry body tightly pressed against my naked skin. It was almost equally pleasant and alluring as it was alien and unnatural, leaving me torn with a paradoxical sensation immediately upon returning to the waking world. 

 

A realisation of what I’d done yesterday was, however, immediately overshadowed by the bleak, monochromatic window intruding on my field of view, already being there as my eyes slowly gained their focus from the initial blur.

 

I blinked 

Unit evolved! Mate gained! Miwah, The Bride of Shadows. New unit was promoted to Alpha Eviscerator.

 

I squinted my eyes, touching my face almost as I tried to assume I was still me. The notification disappeared, waved away by the movement.

 

This was the moment I realised not only I was tightly held by Miwah, both of us devoid of clothes and only covered by that old cloak against the morning cold, but my werewolf’s fur bleached almost ghastly white over the night of unnatural passion. I wasn’t sure whether I should push myself even closer, welcoming the intimate companionship of my werewolf's mate, or try frantically to free myself from the soft snuggle, rejecting the weirdness of it all.

 

The voice saved my brain from the struggle with the apparent contradiction. 

 

“I am sorry for waking you up, Master. You called?” The soft, feminine voice announced, its tone only slightly different from my other speaking monsters, yet sufficiently distinctive. 

 

Instead of trying to flee the shame, I just pushed on top of my wolf-woman to look up toward the unfamiliar voice.

 

Miwah embraced me once more, and I gave in. 

 

“Master…” she purred lovingly, but I wasn’t paying attention to her at this very moment.

 

There, towering above us, was another Miwah. 

 

The same anthropomorphic canine-like features, same gleaming black fur with the well-defined muscles standing on the digitigrade legs, same bushy tail weaving around, only this one was already wrapped in the ill-fitted scale armour suit, scavenged belt holding the outfit tight. 

 

“Master. One woman that sealed my sisters broke away, heading for the fortress. Other one stayed in the village, with only two soldiers. We didn’t attack or pursue her as you ordered.” She reported. 

 

The not-Miwah kneeled, lowering themselves to us. Quite disoriented by the information, I looked down on the beast-woman that the system had already announced as my partner.

 

Miwah, still affectionately holding me, now indeed had fur turned to ivory, if not eternal white, though her loving blue eyes remained. Still larger than me, she didn’t mind being my body pillow I currently lay on. She gently scratched my head with her claw. 

 

Looked up again.

 

New ‘Eviscerator’ was only slightly different from the way Miwah was before…this. 

Her eyes had a slightly different, darker shade, along with a much blacker mane of hair, though now I finally recognised the slightly distinct features of her canine-like face, something which I never assumed I would pick on, and something in the back of my mind clicked. 

 

“Brave. You have grown.” I said, quite distracted. 

 

My dumb statement put my mind away from feeling ashamed for my intimate moments I had with my Miwah, or just lying with her there. 

 

Brave, as I uncreatively named my second canine monster, now larger and more mature looking, and more definitely capable of speech, didn’t seem like she was even slightly judgemental about it. 

 

“Yes, I suspected you would want to have me at your side now, Master.” She answered.

 

“Yes…” I stammered out nervously, trying to find the correct words, or merely trying to come to terms with myself, but the alien, nudging sensation that guided my actions previously reared its ugly head up. 

 

My monsters, my people, had to be freed, and humans who sealed them away punished for this transgression. 

 

The strange feedback, the compulsion even, was clear on that. Strangely enough, my werewolf bedmate reacted to this without me even muttering a word.

 

“Yes, Master.” Miwah added, tightening her hold over me with the sadness in her voice, and added: “It pains me when our kin are sealed away too. We can enjoy each other later once our kin are safe.”

 

It was creepy on its own. As much as the human sensibilities still dwelling inside me tried to push me away from her, the other growing part within me pulled me closer, further contributing to the inner turmoil which I wanted to soothe in my werewolf’s embrace.

 

“We will, my dear.” I said, assuring Miwah, but trying to stop myself from the other displays of affection, I almost immediately queried Brave for information. “Is everyone ready to move again?”

 

“Yes. Should we eat or rely on the Defilers for energy?” Brave answered. It would seem with her promotion, or evolution, she naturally acted the way her new role demanded her, though, and appeared to be even more practical about it. 

 

“Do we have food, even?” We departed our previous camp so hastily we didn’t take any supplies with us. 

 

“We brought down some prey while you relaxed with Miwah.” New ‘Alpha’ said, “But there will be next to no game left in this corner of the woods. We overhunted.”  

 

It was inevitable, considering the exponential growth in numbers, and further pushed my original decision to seek more scalable sustenance in the local farmlands. 

 

“Very well then. Let’s not have the food go to waste. We will move out immediately after.” I decided. 

 

“Yes, Master.” Brave confirmed and stood up. Miwah echoed this, though in a much more subtle, loving tone. This, along with the mirrored roles, would certainly be the source of much embarrassment or distraction. 

 

I, despite the certain underlying guilt about this aberrant, still gave Miwah the kiss before I finally got up and tried to locate my clothes still scattered around this humble abode, while an unexpected werewolf partner did the same. 

 

Brave, however, didn’t seem opinionated about it and even helped Miwah to get to her own armour. 

 

“Where is Tama, anyway?” I asked. Despite the mixed feelings, it was fairly unusual the flirty vixen wasn’t around to comment on the situation. 

 

“Still sulking because you didn’t mate with her first, Master.” Brave said bluntly, though with a sly smile on her canine face, combined with a teasing glance which I wouldn’t have expected from her. 

 

Although, it was impossible to tell which kind of personality the evolving ‘Eviscerator’ would have, as earlier, I wasn’t even aware it could happen. Earlier, I wouldn’t believe I would…

 

I banished my thoughts in favour of getting dressed while combating the disconcerting amount of foreign sentiments the link pushed into my confused brain. 

 

Unsure, and feeling awkward, I opted to remain silent about it. It helped a little. 

 

In fact, not saying anything was probably making it worse, much faster, as the subconscious connection that was forced on me yesterday tried to connect the dots without the necessity of speaking, furthering my increasingly paradoxical emotions on the matter. 

 

At the very least, they helped me to dress, adjusting and grooming me briefly, much to my predicament. My werewolves were pretty, after all. Being touched by charming women wasn’t truly the problem. The realisation that my treacherous mind formed the definition of how attractive anthropomorphic canines should look was so much more disturbing. This, also, wasn’t even remotely normal.

 

Rushing outside, tailed by both Brave and Miwah, didn’t help in that regard, it just made it worse. 

 

Shock at the surroundings completely devastated just as I saw in my dream slowly subsided in favour of another, equally overwhelming experience. 

 

After all, it wasn’t just two ‘Eviscerators’, I had an entire horde of such creatures, all of them female, all of them quite appealing through the insistence of the silent link forming between us, all of them being the most welcoming to my presence, many of them waving and cheering. 

 

It was true they did so before, but now it was entirely different. Somehow even warmer, even more real. 

 

The ‘Corruptors’, outfitting themselves with the grass skirts and floral wreaths like small, humanoid lizard Hawaiian dancers, looked equally silly as cute. 

 

It wasn’t what worried me, though. I was terrified by the prospect that the feedback would force the hostility towards humans most of my monsters, my people, had on me as well, and the underlying notion that my quest to find a way back home would be made moot, if not entirely invalid. 

 

However, as much as I thought about it, I wasn’t letting the entire issue with sealing slide. Its result might not be damaging, but the impact it had on me emotionally was quite unpleasant. I cursed the undoubtedly supernatural bond.

 

At least Tama was almost unusually distant, almost as she gave me a bit of silent treatment while using her power to manipulate the blazing flame of the campfire, much to the amusement of her smaller, though equally pyromaniacal, kin who joined her in this form of entertainment.

 

Kuma dozed away, uncaring for interaction at the moment.

 

Brave and Narita bossed their smaller kin, and shooed others who tried to bother me. I had more than enough problems with myself as it was. 

 

And Miwah - she remained by my side, with her now white fur she gave a more otherworldly presence, tall, muscular, with alabaster claws, but also eternal, and beautiful, with her blue eyes shining even more brightly. Only that shoddy salvaged armour didn’t fit her now more elegant form, but I didn’t mind. 

 

There was enough of a struggle with not feeling the stronger kinship with that furry and scaly madness revolving around than other humans. 

 

At least, trying to not think about it brought moderate results, and allowed me to eat the improvised meal - the grilled, tasteless meat - in silence.

 

Not in peace, however, not with that inner turmoil strengthening within me.

 

It didn’t take long until I welcomed the supporting embrace Miwah, while still cursing myself for enjoying it. 

 

We were‌ soon forced to depart, leaving the devastation that was our camp behind. 

 

Silence of the past hour or two, however, soon became overbearing, with the only sound being the constant ruckus the horde on the move caused, swarming around, or rushing ahead as lookouts reporting no dangers ahead for the time being. 

 

I was certain I couldn't rely on the sensations provided by the link I couldn’t quite understand, driving me further apart from what I once was, but I couldn’t bring myself to speak up, with the blame boiling inside. But I let it run its course, as suddenly, I was less and less certain of what I wanted to do. 

 

Constrained by the guilt for getting intimate with Miwah, yet enjoying it, and even keeping her close by my side while we walked, I had a prick of conscience to last for a lifetime.

 

Less for the lives my people took, and more for becoming a part of them. 

 

How the insane monsters became my monsters, and my monsters turned to be my people. I almost wanted to die for this travesty.

 

Yet, I liked them, my protectors, my monsters, my girls, and despite all that blame that accumulated within me.

 

I didn’t speak with them for the entire journey. 

 

What woke me from my trance filled with self-blame was the strange, indescribable, but inherently unsettling sensation that hit me as the tidal wave, upsetting not only my tired mind, but all of my monsters around me. 

 

I did not know how far we walked. 

 

I was so preoccupied with my introspection; I didn’t quite know.

 

But we were at the edge of the forest, and further down on the decaying road, currently more mud than stone, among the vast green fields of some bushy grains, was the village, with the same vaguely Eastern Asian aesthetics to its various scattered buildings, with mostly thatched roofs and only occasional hip-and-gamble ones in the middle. 

 

Among the buildings, the villagers ran around in panic, looking for a place to hide, while few gathered to mount the defence, holding onto whatever they grabbed to be used as weapons, but neither of them were the source of this unpleasant, offensive vibe that I was sure it originated from somewhere far ahead, from middle of the settlement. 

 

I paused. 

 

My monsters growled angrily at this strange feeling as well, and didn't like it any more than me, their powers flashing, calling to be released upon this offender we couldn’t quite see.

 

There was something out there. 

 

I kept scanning for it though, my inner conflict entirely forgotten in the face of this wrongness that was somewhere ahead among all those huts, fields, and a few shouting peasants.

 

“Hold.” I ordered when the few nervous monsters stepped up ready to attack.  

 

From under the overturned tree on the side of the road at the edge of the settlement, dirty and in rags, one human, maybe a girl, crawled out, shocked, dizzy, muddied. Unlike the rest of the natives, she looked around and didn’t run, or join the group of defenders. 

 

She shouted something in their tongue I wasn’t able to comprehend, feminine voice betraying her gender more among the dirt and tattered clothes. This likely homeless person laughed madly, then shouted some more to the other villagers, and fell on her knees, bowing her head to the ground. No one paid her attention, though.

 

It was eerie.

 

And the strange sensation only grew stronger. It didn’t come from the crowd of peasants, but from behind them.

 

“No!” I ordered, walking away from my stupor. “Don’t attack.” 

 

This was stupid - my repeated attempts for this very approach taught me so several times already, yet I would not give up now. Not now, if somewhere ahead of us lurked the danger that unsettled every one of my monsters, one I couldn’t even describe. 

 

Although, it wasn’t really the caution that motivated the decision, but regret. 

 

Last night didn’t help either. My journey here, filled with doubts on my past actions, I desperately wanted to convince myself I wasn’t the person who preferred the monsters over  humans. 

 

That I wasn’t the monster myself. 

 

Yet, I had no tangible plan to achieve this.

 

I looked at Miwah, and then, at the village. 

 

Tension was in the air.

 

Weighted by the guilt that I perhaps became too close to my monsters, I was determined to fight the rush that, even now, urged me to free my followers from the poorly explained seal, supposedly by killing the caster who caused it.

 

“Perhaps I should try to talk with… whoever caused this. We don’t know how their power scales.” I suggested a thinly veiled excuse to not do something I was driven to do for hours now. 

 

I tried to locate the source of that strange sensation, and finally, it showed itself.

 

A woman among the crowd, flanked by two of the human soldiers, only one armoured, and equipped to look professional among the crowd. 

 

She stood apart from others, dressed in the same colourful robe Tama stole from the shrine, which I could guess signify some or position rank within the culture I wasn’t familiar with, though I could only guess. Priestess, sorceress, noble, who would know.

 

It wasn’t the same woman I released from the cage in that looted shrine, yet she emitted the same irritating, irksome aura that drove me and all my monsters crazy. 

 

“I’ll speak for you, Master!” Tama suddenly suggested. It wasn’t quite like her, though before I could answer that her foolishness exceeded mine, she stepped forward with the more believable, teasing remark: “So make sure to prepare a reward for me.” 

 

“Master?” Other ‘Alphas’ questioned the decision, yet, after the confusion and inner turmoil, wasn’t quite willing to make the call. Miwah stepped in front of me. 

 

“Wait, please.” I whispered.

 

The fiery vixen strode forward, swinging her and lashing her tail. Likely more for my sake than the humans. 

 

And the robed woman among the villages made a few sweeping motions opening the traditionally Asian fan she held in her hand, starting a high-pitched chant accompanied with further moves that certainly weren't an attempt to start a communication, yet they were not an attack in conventional sense. 

 

“My beloved Master wants to resolve this peacefully. Release our people, and you shall all live.” Tama announced aloud to the crowd, raising her hands above her head in the surrendering gesture. It sounded ‌theatrical, and though the tone was certainly serious, it wasn’t quite like her.

 

Still, I hesitated.

 

The answer was more chanting from the robed woman.

 

“No!”

 

I was going to shout something…

 

It was too late. With the blast of energy, a gust of wind coming from nowhere, Tama, my flirty vixen, disappeared almost like the flame blown out by the wind.

 

There was no blood, only the familiar mist dissolving her as the clothes she wore fell slowly to the ground. 

 

And the pain.

 

All the pain, all the loss, a memory of Tama, the very first of my monsters, my girls, who died and lived again to protect me from the very first minutes in this accursed world. Now she, my fiery vixen, was gone.

 

It hurt.

 

The loss was even stronger than one experiencing the first time, a very part of my soul being torn away. 

 

Whether the thing I felt was the network of sorts, or a mere sense of kinship with my furry menagerie, it was hit hard. 

 

It hurt, and it was my fault.

 

1 unit sealed until the caster is dead.

 

I swept the offending notification away and pointed towards the native woman.

 

Whoever she was, the caster stepped back, now visibly surprised, almost like she expected the much greater impact. Her guards prepared their weapons and put the shields up. Peasants look around a slightly more panicked. 

 

Monsters roared. 

 

While I didn’t know what she expected to happen, I didn’t quite care anymore. 

 

I pointed at the robed woman. 

 

“Kill that bitch!” 

 

Her attempts to start the chant again were drowned in flames and screams as my girls charged forward in the wake of the initial flame strike.

 

“For Master!”