Rule 11

Pants Mean Everything & Teammates Are Assholes

Statement: Imagine, for a moment, that discovering secrets can lead to a form of power. I’ve said this a few times. Midge said it. Little Shade. The word is misleading because when they speak of secrets, it’s not simply something you whisper to another person and don’t share—like where a dead body is located. A secret, as this world seems to define it, is anything that not a lot of people are aware of and is useful to know.

So my question is this; if learning a secret is so valuable that people trade them like commodities, what value then, does creating secrets give? And as a follow up, I heard someone mention a Secret King. What is that?

Arson shook. I almost felt bad. To my knowledge he hadn’t dealt with a monster, ever. Not a single knife blade to their necks. Never dropped explosives under a monster’s feet. Arson, had missed all the fun in our new world. Though I think he had a special connection with one of the farmers back at town.

I gave my best reassuring smile and flinched once I remembered my teeth were all messed up, and this body had grotesque limbs. Even if they knew I was the same person as Hawthorn, finding the similarities in our features would be hard. It was there, in the eyes, a bit at the cheeks and a wrinkle between my eyebrows. That’s how I knew I was still me.

“I don’t taste good!” Arson shouted.

Post Note: I’d been standing there, contemplating life’s mysteries, while Arson continued to freak out. This amused me and I started giggling again.

My laugh, and the demon’s from before, were drastically different. I wondered if it would be possible to get the after echo, purely to magnify the absurdity of this form.

“You better leave before the others get here. I’ve seen what they do to ogres!” He quaked.

His fear mad me smile. But with happiness, was annoyance at not being answered. Pants would have made this less awkward. Removing the ogre marking wouldn’t have helped either since I’d simply revert to Lance. Arson didn’t know Lance.

“My name is Mister Underwood. I’m in dire need of pants. Are you able to provide assistance?”

“Step back!”

I loomed over him. Nine feet of insane muscle against an elderly black man was unfair. I liked it.

“Perhaps we might make a bargain. You’re still new to this world”—so was I but my mouth and mind weren’t saying the same thing—“you provide me pants, I eliminate monsters for you. That’s valuable to humans, correct?”

Continuing to harass Arson wasn’t my intent. I wanted to say that he didn’t need to be afraid of me. My job had always been killing monsters and scouting the area silently. Before any of that happened, I wanted bigger pants. Fighting naked bothered me immensely. Getting pants suitable for this form would let me test out everything I needed to. Learning how to kill monsters as Hawthorn or Lance served no purpose. I already could.

Post Note: Each half-formed reason for being Mister Underwood rather than Lance brought my mind back to needing pants. Here are all the half-formed reasons I used to convince myself:

Mister Underwood would revert to Lance. Transforming took ten seconds. Long enough to be stabbed. Hawthorn and Lance were easier to kill, in theory. I needed to learn how to use this Mister Underwood form. Battle experience meant a lot. There were spiders nearby. The larger I was, the smaller they would seem. Spiders are gross. Webbing a bee and webbing a bird are two different tasks in terms of difficultly, the same should apply to webbing Lance/Hawthorn-sized me, versus Mister Underwood-sized me. I liked having my separate forms be a secret …Arson’s terror amused me—to an extent. The immaturity of this statement does not remove its validity.

“What?”

His poor hearing would be the death of my sanity. If I had really been an ogre, I would have back handed Arson’s cart and crushed everything in sight. My impulses were still easy to control because of the constant flood of new sensations. The smells of this near forest entrance distracted me.

The cart driver said something and I utterly missed it. He continued to yammer. I sniffed and got a whiff of steel and oils. There was a soft scent like baby powder mixed in with a kind of fishy undertone that might have been sweat or gym socks. Those were about the same anyway.

Arson shouted, “And you’ll have a sword through your gut before you know it!”

“Pants! I want big wide, fat man pants!” I shouted abruptly. It was the simplest sentence I’d bellowed all day.

The fog made me muddle headed. I would have been better off wandering into the woods and murdering everything in sight. I could walk out and roll up all the webbing I’d stumble through then go find this seamstress for actual clothes.

“I don’t sell plants!” Arson shouted. “There’s an entire forest if you need some! Shoo, go on. Git.”

I stuck the clothes into his face. Arson waved his hands at the garment. Sharp pain tore along my shoulder as something sliced my skin open. My chest tightened as all the air in my lungs shot out in a sudden bellow of outrage.

I swung my right hand back while turning. My shirt and spell book were held against my chest by the left arm. A solid object blocked the blow and two more slashes tore my back.

“Redemption must be given,” Leon yelled. His shield smacked me in the face. The blow sent me reeling while Leon continued to spout nonsense. “Pray for the souls of those fallen to wicked ways. In the name of our lord and savior Mayor Kent!”

While he yelled I turned to get a look at the situation. Arson’s cart was on one side. Leon and Callisto attacked from the other. She darted out of the corner of my eye while Leon’s glowing yellow aura pulled my gaze like a candle in the dark. That sour fish smell was stronger.

“Hey,” I yelled with complete eloquence. “Stop that.”

Something kicked my back but it hardly registered. Leon’s armor-framed face peeked out from behind the shield. His eyebrows blended in with the helmet. I almost fully realized what had happened but lost my mind when Leon’s sledgehammer raised into the air.

I’d seen it a hundred times while working with him. I’d never seen the effect of fighting against the trio. My world fuzzed and went utterly white as a light from the hammer turned my brain to a blank canvas. It was like Little Shade’s darkness, but in reverse.

There were crashing sounds. More slashes tore my skin. I curled into a ball to keep my chest and stomach protected. My heartbeat sped as I searched frantically for a way to retaliate. Thudding filled my ears.

For a moment, only a single breath or two, I thought that this would be the end.

The spell faded and I still lived. Razor-like cuts had torn my skin to shreds. Being hit in the forearm hurt less than my stomach being stabbed. I used the arm to block her blows and kicked to drive Leon back. My unbalanced body flopped to the ground with a crash.

Callisto’s fast footwork got her clear of my wild kicks. I’d been pushed away from Arson’s cart during the blind struggle. Leon’s shield showed signs of cracking and his legs trembled.

My tricks were few. Pulling off this form while being slashed would leave me as a weaker and easier to kill Lance. Transforming took too long. I still had the spell book, cradled against my chest inside the remaining shirt. They wouldn’t notice it since it had been covered.

In that moment, I didn’t care if they knew I was Lance, Hawthorn, or Mister Underwood. Survival meant more than a single secret that I’d created for myself. Switching forms simply took too long, and I knew Callisto would stab me in the face with her sharp swords the minute I peeled it off. It’s the same thing I would do if a monster stood still and started glowing.

I warded off another set of Callisto’s blurring attacks.

One finger brushed across the spell book’s first page. Red energy hung on the one finger before flowing up and down my other fingers. I used my free arm to shove Leon before he could charge me with that damned shield.

Callisto’s flickering swords slammed against my shoulder. They glanced off as if my skin were made of steel and not mere flesh. I chuckled, then halted as I remembered she was out to kill me. Leon got between me and the cart. I searched for Allegra, the busty bathrobe wearing blond would be around soon.

The red spell energy had never done anything for me before but in battle it changed. My hand burned. The sensation pulled my attention and I glanced at my fingers. A red glow suffused the entire fist and concentrated heavily at the knuckles. Beyond that, I saw the shredded remains of the one pair of pants I’d been holding onto since town. She’d utterly ruined them.

“Enrage move!” Callisto shouted.

Leon lifted his shield and the glow of golden energy increased around him. On his shield a cross formed with a defensive spike. Callisto danced away and got behind the tank. I smirked and charged.

If they could spend half a minute stabbing me and shoving shields in my face, I could at least give them a solid punch. Leon’s shield should be able to take it. Plus, they’d torn my pants to shreds. Now I’d be naked as Lance.

Post Note: In an apocalyptic world, pants are way more important than socks and shoes. No one cares about towels. Pants.

“Ha!” I laughed and cleared the last dozen yards in a single leap. My fist blazed red. My penis flapped freely in the wind. A wide smile spread across my face. It served everyone right, not giving me something to wear.

“Oh gross,” Leon shouted and closed his eyes.

My glowing fist pummeled into the shield’s defensive cross. Yellow light rippled, started to solidify, then shattered. The ground and air vibrated as a shockwave hit. Leon’s stance faltered but he stayed on his feet. His shield cracked. Callisto fell backward and dug into the ground with her swords to stop the motion. Her pants tore, and knees bloodied.

A pale faced Leon lifted his hammer for his stun spell. I backhanded him before my world could be turned white again. Without the shield, he couldn’t use his defensive abilities and went flying.

There was just one problem. My hand hurt like mad. I danced and shook the limb. All that did was make me dizzy. “Damnation!”

After two complete circles I found myself staring at the other two. Leon hadn’t recovered from the fall. Callisto wasn’t any better. That shockwave had done a number on their ability to function.

Callisto’s head rolled from side to side as though she had water in her ears. A few quick strides would let me punt her over the park’s entrance archway like a football. I wanted to punch her, not kill her. She still had all sorts of uses. Neither one of them healed as fast as I could.

At least I hoped this body healed. There would probably be a reduction in speed to make up for the sheer toughness and strength. I’d lost ranged abilities like the thrown explosive spell but gained an insane amount of close combat durability. Hawthorn could have easily stabbed one of them in the eye and simply killed them. There were too many comparisons to sort. I’d work through them after I calmed down.

I quivered with a deep sigh. My shirt and book were tucked under an armpit. My body shook and muscles repeatedly flexed. The urge to hit anything standing called to me. Knuckles cracked as my fist met palm in a tight grip. It felt good so I cracked the other set of knuckles next.

“All I requested,” I said while keeping my jaw locked. “Was pants. It is that such a difficult item to procure? Did I need a permit to shop here? I would have traded services for goods. Isn’t that fair?”

I did plan on killing monsters. Especially after the last few days. They’d been utterly boring. Picking off mini-orcs equated to fighting kindergarteners. Kids could get a lucky shot in if you weren’t paying attention, but any actual effort made the battle one sided. My nephews had been tough.

“Stop fighting!” Allegra screamed. Leon glanced back for a second and kicked away from me. Callisto stepped in and held her swords out in defense of her fallen ally.

I continued my prior train of thought. My family hadn’t been strong or tough enough. Thinking of Stella reminded me of Richard’s failure to survive the line. Of his wife’s. They’d left Stella behind and I didn’t know how or why. The tension I felt drained slowly at the thought of her being abandoned to this world. Countless babies had been cast aside.

Post Note: I write this, not to make a big deal of what had happened, but to show that even though what I was becoming, acting as, or am still turning into may be a monster to some—I have my own moral line. As long as someone is more useful to my goals than they are a dead weight, they get to live. That seems a fair rule in this world. The thing I must reminded myself of is this, useless now does not mean useless later. I must measure everyone with what they might become in the long term—even myself.

Coach Madison had survived. Callisto had survived. They had a strength of character that Richard lacked. I’d pondered it countless times. His wife might have walked out with the kids and he’d heard the noise. Or maybe it’d been the other way around. More than one soul had broken at hearing the terrible screams and rending flesh.

It would have been worse for a parent to see their children lost in such a way.

Someone else stumbled through the archway of the park. She was fuzzy but that might have been my head after being beaten by the shield, or stabbed. Allegra propped herself against the gate, huffing intensely. She held the front of her house robes together tightly and gasped.

Allegra mumbled something. I sniffed; there was a musky sourness that spoke of sweat. Metal tones were thick enough to make my tongue tense. Being an ogre came with the unwanted side effect of knowing exactly how hard the other two had been working. Their bodies were drenched in sweat.

Judging by Allegra’s stance, they must have been running for Arson’s wagon from the moment I showed up. The other two were in better shape. They also fought more. Leon running through the park and me not hearing him was pretty impressive. I hadn’t known he could move silently in all the gear he had. It might have been a new ability of his. It stood to reason that they could grow, even as I could.

“He’s not going to hurt us,” Allegra said. She waved at us and continued to catch her breath.

Her words were wrong. I would hurt them if needed. Fortunately, neither Callisto or Leon had showed a willingness to charge me.

“He won’t hurt us if”—she gasped again—“we don’t attack him. He’s human. Was. Is. Like us.”

“Speak for yourself.” Callisto turned and spit out a red gob. She attempted to move forward but her knees wobbled. Leon grunted and stood slowly. The earlier shockwave had nearly knocked them senseless. The fight had gone out of them but that didn’t reassure me. Callisto recovered her stamina quickly.

I raised my hands in mock surrender and stepped back. I reached for the spell book and attempted to pool the red energy again, in case they showed any sign of aggression.

“Oh my ears are ringing,” Leon muttered. He banged his helmet twice.

“What did you mean?” Callisto asked while lifting her sword in my direction.

“He’s on our side,” Allegra insisted. The blonde came closer while staring me right in the eyes.

I flattened my lips into a partial frown and sighed.

“You’re damn right he wanted my hide!” Arson helped the conversation along.

“I wanted pants, you elderly lunatic,” I responded loudly. My free hand gestured toward the free hanging member. “This is as awkward for me as it is for you!”

“Oh,” Callisto said. She glanced down and shook her head. “He doesn’t need pants. He needs something bigger. We can trade if he’s got anything that will help us.”

Allegra smirked and mumbled, “Bigger is the least of his problems.”

“Quite far down the list,” I agreed.

Leon turned to the side and grumbled. He crossed one hand over his chest and said a silent prayer. I put the shirt, which still had the book mostly covered inside of it, over my crotch.

Leon broke the silence. “We did scavenge some ogre gear, right?” He sounded as though he was fighting back nausea. “Arson, do we still have any gear from the ogres?”

True to form, he misheard every word but his name. “Beer from the show girls? Where?” Arson searched for his exotic dancers.

I laughed so hard my legs gave out.