part one:
Jacob: Tom
Tom: Shh!
Jacob: Tom!
Tom: Shut up, Jacob, they can hear us for God's sakes!
Jacob: Tom, I'm frightened!
Tom: Jacob, I honestly couldn't care less at the moment. Are you trying to get us killed? Is that what you're doing? Because you're doing a pretty damn good job at it!
Jacob: I'm sorry, Tom, but he's holding my arms too tight and it done hurts!
Being: Silence! Both of you!
Tom: See! Now, shut your trap!
Jacob: It scratched me, Tom!
Tom: If my hands weren't tied behind my back, I'd claw you up myself! Kudos, Mister! If only I could be more like you!
Jacob: That's not very kind, Tom. You done hurt my feelings.
Tom: Where are you taking us anyways?
Being: Ignorant human! I command silence at once!
Tom: Well, that's not very helpful, Mister! Downright uninformative, if you ask me.
Jacob: Don't you upset that thing, Tom.
Tom: See, I'm okay with you telling Jacob to be quiet, that's not a problem!
Jacob: Where are we going, Tom?
Tom: Weren't you just listening, you blubbering idiot? I don't have a damn clue!
Jacob: I'm sorry, Tom, I'm just frightened.
Tom: Yes, Jacob, We've already been through this!
Jacob: I'm sorry, Tom, I'm just frightened!
Tom: You're on some kind of ignorant loop, aren't you?
Being: We're here. Just go down this hallway and knock on the door at the end. Signal that your puny minds can follow through with this simple task.
Tom: Yes, your majesty.
Jacob: You didn't have to slam the door that hard, Mister!
Tom: He can't hear you Jacob, the door's already shut.
Jacob: How are we gunna get out of here now that we're free, Tom?
Tom: We're not free, you idiot. We're trapped in this hallway. both the door we came through and the one down yonder are probably both heavily guarded with more simple minded beings.
Jacob: So what do we do?
Tom: We go knock on the door down there as instructed. We might just be able to talk our way out of this one. And by "we" I mean "me". You just stand there with your mouth shut, and don't say anything stupid to mess us up.
Jacob: Why you gotta be so mean, Tom?
Tom: Shut up.
Jacob: I don't want to knock on that door, Tom.
Tom: Then move out of the way and let me do it!
Sir Andrew: Ah! Hello, Visitors! How are you enjoying your stay?
Tom: Not entirely well, sorry to say. We weren't exactly jumping to get here.
Sir Andrew: Yes, well that is irrelevant. Allow me to introduce myself. I am known and addressed as Sir Andrew, governor of this establishment.
Tom: Yeah, great to meet you, blah blah blah. Can we leave now?
Jacob: Don't you think that's a little straight forward, Tom?
Sir Andrew: So, You're name is Tom? How delightful!
Tom: I thought I told you to keep your mouth shut, Jacob!
Sir Andrew: Ah! Jacob and Tom! What an amusing duo! Well, I presume you are aware of the purpose of your presence?
Tom: No, Sir, and that happens to be one of the main reasons we"re so keen on leaving. So, We'll just be on our way, if you'd be so kind-
Sir Andrew: I am most certainly NOT so kind! Your presence is absolutely imperative! We are in desperate need of your undamaged vocal chords!
Tom: excuse me?
Sir Andrew: Well, how do you think I am able to talk, my good fellow? Plague Rats don't normally speak, do they? This common inconvenience is due to the infection of a mudo bite being inserted directly into the vocal chords at first injection with the teeth of an infected. Why do you think we bite at the neck? If we aren't blessed with the privilege to speak, then no one will be!
Tom: I sincerely apologize, Mister, but I still don't understand one thing.
Sir Andrew: Do tell!
Tom: What in the HELL makes you think we're going to let you take our talking strings?
Jacob: Where'd you get that knife, Tom?
Tom: Jacob, I'd greatly appreciate your silence!
Sir Andrew: Please hand over your weapon, Tom. I wouldn't want to have to call in my guards.
Tom: Alright, that sounds reasonable enough. Here, I'll just bring this right over to you-
Jacob: Tom! You just slit his throat!
Tom: Good observation, Jacob.
Jacob: What are we gunna do now, Tom?
Tom: We're going to get out of here.
Jacob: I thought you said we were gunna talk our way out.
Tom: There's no use trying to talk this Plague Rats out of anything they put their moldy brains to! Now is the time for action!
Jacob: How are we gunna get past all those guards he was talking about?
Tom: Most likely with those swords hanging on the wall over there.
Jacob: That's brilliant!
Tom: Thank you.
Jacob: You're done welcome, Buddy.
Tom: Here, take this nice sword.
Jacob: Alright.
Tom: You ready?
Jacob: Not in the slightest, Tom.
Tom: Swell! Let's get going!
part two:
You and Jacob burst through the front door, panting. As usual, no one takes interest in your arrival.
"Everyone!" You scream, and your voice cracks. All eyes turn to you and Jacob. "Where's Eliza?" You demand, looking around the room, searching faces for answers.
"Uh, I'm pretty sure she just got back to her office." Some one says through the silence.
"Excellent." You take off, dragging Jacob behind you by the arm. The two of you bound up the stairs, rocketing to the second floor.
You pound on Eliza's door with your fist, taking in ragged breaths.
"Enter." A muffled voice says.
You and Jacob shove your way through the door at the same time. You push yourself past Jacob irritably.
"They can talk! It's sick, and cruel what they do to get this way! They rip them right out of innocent men's throats and shove them in their own!" You prop yourself up on Eliza's desk, gulping down air. Her face remains perfectly composed. She turns to Jacob.
"Explain your partner's rushed words, if you don't mind." She says. Jacob blushes. You know that he's never been one for speaking in front of anyone with the exception of you.
"Uh- What he's trying to say is, uh, the mudo. They're a-taking people's talking strings and using them like their own. They can talk now, honest. Me and Tome done talked to some! They ain't too friendly, neither."
"They're killing off more people?" She confirms, taking out a notepad.
"Yes." You gasp, slowly regaining the ability to speak. "The people that they've taken; they don't eat all of them! They take out their vocal chords! Those vile beasts are torturing people just to be able to voice their moldy thoughts!"
"Interesting..." Eliza remarks, scribbling something on a piece of paper. "Perhaps now that they're able to speak, we can make some kind of truce with them; get then to relent in their efforts to kill off the living population."
"It's too late for reason, Eliza, I've killed off their leader and half of their defensive forces. There is no turning back!" You stare back at the commander, huffing.
"I sincerely with you hadn't done that, Tom. How is their speech anyways? Is it primitive or just as advanced as ours?"
"Well, their leader seemed the most capable of having complete conversations until Tom cut his head off... The rest of them could only say a few phrases..." Jacob recovers.
"Perhaps the more decomposed their brain is, the less able they are to regain their old speech habits. Their leader, by extension, must have just been recently infected."
"Right.."
The room is silent except for your heavy breathing. It's ridiculous that it is taking you this long to catch your breath and you can tell that everyone else has noticed. The more effort you put into quieting your breaths, the more ragged they become.
"Sergeant, maybe you and your partner could use a few laps around the practicing arena? You seem like you could be in better condition."
You blush, but still force yourself to hold your head up high, refusing to let your utter humiliation be seen.
"yes, commander. Let us know when you get more information on the talkers?"
"Of coarse." Eliza looks to her paper work, purposely closing off conversation.
"Right." You and Jacob turn from the room, exchanging looks of exhaustion.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"I really wish that you weren't so out of breath back there, Tom.'" Jacob huffs. This is your twelfth time around the arena. Your muscles are cramping and you long for nothing more than a glass of water.
"We should be getting into shape none the less, Jacob! We've got to kill of those talkers before the spread the idea too far. If they're able to communicate, they become more powerful. They've already wiped out half of the population, Jacob. Imagine the damage they could do if they actually start coordinating plans to take us down!" You're gasping for air once again. You're starting to learn that talking and running don't mix well.
"What do we do?" Jacob asks after a while.
"Why, we gather our militia, my good man!" You slap Jacob on the back encouragingly, making him jolt in surprise. He smiles at you sheepishly. "We've got at least two hundred men at the base and that should-"
"What about the women?"
"What about them?"
"Well, you would think that if we were planning on taking down a new race, we would use ALL of our soldiers."
"Right- like I said, two hundred men."
Jacob stops running to look at you. "We would have a force of five hundred soldiers if we put all of our fighter in play." He states.
"What position do women have in war?" You're incredulous. Women aren't meant to be soldiers!
"Every position! Women are in all kinds of battles! Hell, Eliza took down an entire horde of mudo singlehandedly!"
"I suppose..."
"We're using our potential of five hundred, Tom. We can't afford to lose two hundred men because I know damn well that you won't retreat until every last one of us is dead."
The two of you resume jogging in silence. You've never seen Jacob so defensive before. You wonder what's gotten into him.
"Something bothering you, Jacob?"
"Only your sexism, Tom."
You're taken aback. You decide not to pester Jacob for a while.
part 3:
"Alright, I assume that you are all well informed about the new mudo, and am I also correct in saying that you are here to demolish this abomination of a race?"
The crowd roars in approval. You grin, violent thoughts dancing through your head.
"Yes! I have an enthused militia!" You pace in front of the rows of people, raising your arms in encouragement. You are receiving an appealing response, the gathering cheering, practically screaming their approval.
"My firing squads, rise!" There is a shuffle as a group of people get to their feet, clutching various types of guns. "Take to the fields! You will be the first to storm the building! Prepare yourself for hell, ladies and gentlemen, we'll see you on the other side!" The standing cluster salute, then file out the door.
"Assemble yourselves, those who prefer hand to hand combat! You will be behind the firing squad! God be with you, brave souls." You dismiss the team with the dramatic wave of your arm. They march to catch up with the firing squad.
"The rest of you will join Jacob and myself, we who fight best with stationary weapons! Come, take your preferred tool; we've got plenty of varieties, I can assure you, sir! It's your pick; swords, shovels, axes, spears galore!" You draw your sword from your belt and raise it in the air as the rest of the crowd surges forward to get their hands on a weapon. The feeling of soon to come battle races through your veins, spreading farther with each beat of your heart. It's absolutely invigorating!
You lead the army of people from the weapons room, side by side with Jacob. He looks nervous. You jab him in the side with your elbow, reassuringly. He gives you a sheepish grin in return.
You crash into the building, taking in the violent scene: Your men against theirs, battle cries and wounded moans ring through your ears along with the sound of metal on metal and guns firing off. You embrace the chaos, breathing in the stench of blood, sweat, and flesh. You run into the mess, swinging your sword in the air, severing the head off of a being. You grin viciously, satisfied with the feel of your first kill of the battle. You are sure it won't be your last.
You lose track of time in this environment. You slay mudo from left to right, not noticing any time pass. Blood stains your skin and clothing and your reek of perspiration. Energy and testosterone pump through you, rocketing you from place to place, kill to kill.
Eventually the action dissipates and no one is left standing but you and a handful of your men. You see that they are all staring at your torso. You look down, seeing a slash in your abdomen. Blood oozes from the gash, seeping through your shirt. You look back up at your men. You register no pain, just a spinning sensation. Your legs disappear from beneath you, and you crash to the floor, you sword clattering loudly in the silence as it falls from your limp hand. You close your eyes, your eyelids suddenly weighing ten pounds. Darkness envelops you, coaxing you to sleep, and you eagerly comply.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
You awaken in a white room, your mind groggy and your motions slurred. You raise your head to get a better baring of your surroundings. You see a sink and plat form by your bed and a stack of books by your feet. You see Jacob, staring intently at his hands in his lap, sitting by the door. He has bandages wrapped around his head and one of his legs is strapped to a plank. He appears to be in deep thought.
You wince, your torso suddenly catching fire, and poorly stifle a yelp of pain. Jacob's head jerks up.
"You're awake!" He exclaims, jumping to his feet and grinning broadly.
"Mm." You grunt, wrapping your arms around your abdomen. Your eyebrows come together in concentrated agony.
"I was starting to get worried that you wasn't ever gunna come to! Tom, you plum scared he half to death!"
"My sincerest apologies, comrade." You mumble, dragging yourself into a sitting position. Jacob rushes to your side, trying to assist you in anyways possible. You swat him from you, trying to convince him that you don't need any help.
"We won, Tom! We killed off all the Talkers!" He beams.
"How many soldiers?" You grunt.
"What?"
"How many soldiers did we lose?"
"Oh.." Jacob looks at the floor. "Four hundred, sir."
Your jaw drops. You've never lost that many people in a fight before. You try to respond, opening and closing your mouth, but nothing comes out but garbled sounds.
"How many fallen mudo?" You finally sputter.
"Two thousand."
You're ecstatic! That's the biggest dent in the undead population to which you have ever contributed! Automatically, outside seems safer, as if the forest isn't teeming with downed plague rats.
"No survivors?"
"None."
"Splendid!"
"But, Tom, we lost four hundred people. There's only two hundred people actually occupying Substratum property right now."
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