Pennybard wrapped his bony fingers around the bars of his little prison and hoisted himself up out of the pile he had been compressed into. With a strained exhale and a loud crackle, the knot his joints had formed unwound. He laid idle for a while, his vision blurring as it adjusted to the light of day. With each step his master took, he shook a little in the cage, to his annoyance. Something about the outside air and its dryness instilled hope in him, at least. It carried with it the slightest hint of escape.

BEEADDLEDRUNG moved in his practiced gait, one which was deceptively quiet for a creature of his size and uncannily like a person’s. It was not completely silent — he had a spell for that — but it was effective in avoiding unnecessary attention. Were he skulking around somewhere forested, or really inhabited by any life, his footsteps would blend in with the necessary ambience. In this grey and empty place, however, the sound seemed to echo. In that sense, it felt as if he hadn’t left that manor yet. It was clearer now that he had seriously adopted the whole village, a feat which while no longer exciting was decidedly impressive.

As the monster exited the village through the pass at its edge, the sword at his back continued to drag along. It traced a thin line through the dirt ranging back up to the top of the hill. Every now and then it would clip a stone with a sharp ding, at which Pennybard would jump. BEEADDLEDRUNG seemed to pay no attention.

When he had first discovered the village and decided to adopt it, the area was hilly, but pockets of forest and snaking streams made the land feel full and even. As least, that’s how he recalled it. Looking out from the pass, the terrain was alien to him. It was hideous now in that there was nowhere to hide. While he was chasing irregular prey and stealth wasn’t such a priority, this troubled him nonetheless. Exposed like this, he’d have to navigate more carefully than he was used to.

“Pennybard,” BEEADDLEDRUNG rasped, “I don’t seem to recall the general human lifespan.”

The imp perked up in his cage. “Well, most humans do not survive longer than… seventy cycles or so,” he responded. Just as soon as he did, he mentally rebuked himself. Damn it! According to that information, the man his master was seeking was likely already dead. If BEEADDLEDRUNG recognized that, the two would probably return to that house for eternity. It was ultimately unnecessary, but Pennybard added, “however, the strongest of humans may live longer than one hundred whole cycles!”

BEEADDLEDRUNG was silent for an uncomfortably long moment. Then he spoke. “That man seemed unbound by what I supposed was the limit of human strength. He must be alive.” With this, he fell silent again and his gait resumed its prior cadence. Pennybard blinked in relief.

It occurred to the imp that his “chauffeur” might have no sense of direction regardless of his commitment to this search. “Sire, if I might ask… where are we going?”

It was a worthy question, BEEADDLEDRUNG thought. “We will have to find someplace where humans still dwell. There was another place near here that I used once or twice, but we will see what has become of it.” With that, he took a long drag on the dusty wind, and continued, “I believe I can smell something upwind.” It was the scent of the living, which seemed a rarity in these conditions.

The descent towards the nearby valley revealed some signs of life — stubbornly weak things persisted, such as the scaly critters which BEEADDLEDRUNG had now stepped on a few times, or the cacaw-ing birds with lanky necks and broad wingspans which circled overhead. These things couldn’t even be considered a nuisance, and nor were they desirable, so they might as well have been invisible to BEEADDLEDRUNG. They were not lesser monsters, but animals, which only humans ever feared or hunted. There were some bushy plants which could have been alive nestled between dry dead trees or poking out of notches in the earth, but they lacked the vibrant green which once dominated the landscape. Now it all seemed cloaked in the same desperate color which hamlets full of starving humans evoked, a color BEEADDLEDRUNG never knew how to react to. Sometimes, he observed, humans could be so hopeless and hungry that to devour them would be an act of mercy. Was there any potential for flavor in that? He still did not know. Anything that wants to be eaten must be poisonous, he thought.

—

As the monster and his pet made their way into the valley, a group of four humans lurked within it at a small campsite, yet unaware of what approached. After traveling for nearly a full day on foot from the nearby outpost, the party had decided to set a camp in the open of the valley, where they could avoid an ambush. At least, that was the reason they settled on for stopping there to rest. As two of the humans finished packing up their bedrolls, one of them, a lean man with olive skin and scruffy black hair, yawned melodramatically.

“Man, I really needed that sleep,” he said teasingly. “Hey, I think it was a good idea to stop after all, hm?” He looked at his tentmate with a smug grin.

Said tentmate, a tall, muscular fellow with a severe face, sighed in response. “Kinjo, I’d rather not bicker today. You’d do well to stay focused, yourself.”

Kinjo’s smile faded. “No, I’m focused.” And then reformed. “Because I got some good rest!”

The party leader, who sat outside, observed an angry grumble from within the last standing tent followed by an exaggerated yelp. Kinjo, whose cheek was now red and swollen, stepped outside soon after, as did the other man. “Rough start to your morning, Kinjo?” she laughed.

“Good morning, Erika” said the muscular fellow as he passed by, uninterested in joking along.

Kinjo looked embarrassed. “Ah, thought I’d try using a rock as a pillow. Bad idea.”

Erika clapped amusedly in response. “Didn’t you argue last night that a ‘good night’s rest’ is important before a hunt like this? Sounds like you’re trying to sabotage us,” she teased.

Kinjo raised his arms, yielding. “You caught me."

The fourth party member, a stout man clothed in an oversized tunic, twirled his beard hairs between his fingers as he squinted through a telescope. He gulped down the last bite of the rations he had packed as he scanned the perimeter. “The payout for this bounty’s supposed to be big, yeah?” he asked, aware that everyone was awake now.

“Very,” replied the muscular man, who had walked up beside him. “But they won’t say exactly what it is.” He took the telescope from his short companion, utilizing his height to survey the surrounding area. The valley wasn’t so dusty as the crags and hills which surrounded it, but it was still such a wasteland now. A shame.

“How mysterious!” Kinjo chimed in, his voice wavering in mock allure.

“Rumor has it this one was posted by the crown,” Erika added. She smiled slightly, suppressing her excitement. “Must be a tough one.”

“About time. Work’s been too easy,” the bearded man said. He felt impatiently at a dagger holstered around his waist.

The muscular fellow’s breath, typically quite conspicuous in the rise-and-fall motion of his broad shoulders, halted for a moment. He focused the telescope in front of his eye and adjusted it until he was sure of what he saw. It was a large figure, slowly descending from a passage to the south. Humanoid. But not human.

“Something is approaching,” he warned. He handed the telescope to the bearded man and moved to an oblong bundle that lay on the ground, which he began unwrapping. The beige cloth unfurled to reveal his broadsword. He equipped it.

The bearded man looked towards the passage after his companion pointed it out and became visibly nervous before passing the telescope to the leader. Kinjo looked hurt, having expected to look next.

“Oh, wow…” Erika trailed off. She carefully examined the figure. “Looks like a tough one.”

“Are you saying the bounty’s come to us?” Kinjo asked. He held no weapon, but his fingers twitched in anticipation.

“Maybe…” Erika responded absent-mindedly as she decided on a plan of attack. “We should probably try to catch it off guard. I doubt it’s friendly.”

“O Luna, I beg for your protection,” recited the bearded man. His body warped and shimmered before disappearing. “I’ll get behind it and follow,” he spoke, his voice quiet and tinny. “Just gimme the signal and I’ll strike.”

—

BEEADDLEDRUNG’s ears twitched. Pennybard started to speak, but stopped when he realized that he’d only be insulting his master’s perceptiveness if he did. Stupid though he may be, the monster’s senses were those of a trained predator, far greater than Pennybard’s own. The two continued into the valley in silence before BEEADDLEDRUNG spoke again.

“Ah,” he inhaled, savoring the scent on the wind. “Just as I thought — humans.”

It was not often that the beast smiled, but in this moment he was beaming. It had been so long since he’d seen or heard or smelled a human. Sure, he had memories, which felt like enough while he waited in that house. But nothing could compare to the real thing. Drool leaked from his maw and dripped down from the base of his fangs. It sizzled as it hit the ground.

They were not far away, and there were a few of them. Beside them stood a tent and the remnants of a fire, still fresh and smoky. They had large packs, which BEEADDLEDRUNG imagined might contain some interesting keys. He’d flay the humans and eat them live, while they still screamed…

And then he stopped himself, reluctant to go further down that trail of thought. He was not on a hunt, at least not like the kind he was used to. The humans could be useful to him alive, preserved, unconsumed. No more drool fell. Patience, he reminded himself. An ability to resist temptation and hold out for a greater prize was what made him such a successful hunter in the first place, something he could not have understood before he was a bogeyman. He was proud to be patient.

It wasn’t long before BEEADDLEDRUNG reached the humans, who stood ready with a practiced calmness. There were three: two men and a woman. One man had a sword about half the size of the hero’s. The other held nothing. The woman was furthest away and held a bow. Something about their rehearsed formation was funny to BEEADDLEDRUNG, and so he laughed.

“Humans are so full of guts,” spoke the beast, alarming the group. “I mean that you are brave, challenging me this way.”

The muscular man retained his intense expression, but a bead of sweat rolled down his neck. The monster, while still some length away, was clearly taller than even him. It was dressed like a person, and spoke like one, but something about its bulging cheeks and stiff jaw was so uncanny. Its long, pointed ears caught his eye.

“A bugbear is brave to challenge a group of adventurers, I’d say,” he responded in an attempt to agitate the thing.

“I thought bugbears were extinct,” said Kinjo, glancing at his companion. “And stupid. Like, the ‘can’t talk’ kind of stupid”

BEEADDLEDRUNG roared. “Ahahaha! I’ve not heard that name in a long time… I was stupid then!” He licked his lips. “Now I know better.”

The monster slowly stepped closer and upturned his palms as a show of peace. The hero’s sword skidded quietly behind him.

“My master will interrogate you, now!” Pennybard hollered, his voice shrill and indignant. The humans had not noticed the imp until now.

Kinjo looked confused and disgusted, but before he could make a remark, Erika spoke from behind. Her fingers clutched an arrow.

“You think you’re in a position to interrogate us? I think you’re the only one who’s feeling merciful today, beast.” She readied the arrow and aimed at the beast, emanating pressure.

The bearded man, still under Luna’s protection, held a dagger shakily to the back of the monster.

“I know that there is one behind me,” BEEADDLEDRUNG responded. His shadow squirmed menacingly. The man gulped and held his position. “I am familiar with that strategy. It won’t work.”

Understanding that the assassin was essentially a hostage now, the party leader lowered her arrow. “What is it you want?”

“I’m looking for something. Someone,” the beast corrected himself. “He’s the owner of this sword.” BEEADDLEDRUNG clumsily pulled the sword from behind his back, which caused the bearded man to back up quickly and fall over. Some dust flew up from the ground.

The muscular man examined the sword and scoffed at its ridiculous size. “Only a fool would carry such a weapon. How impractical.”

“I am confident that the owner is the strongest of humans. You do not know of him?” BEEADDLEDRUNG expected the weapon to be an easily recognized relic. Surely the hero was a legend. Disappointment tugged at is lips as he prepared his next question.

Erika thought the sword looked somewhat familiar, but she was never great at distinguishing between swords. “And if we did know of this man?” she asked hesitantly.

BEEADDLEDRUNG lurched forward with alarming speed, only stopping a bit before the stronger looking human. His gaze was still fixed towards the woman. “Then you should tell me. Tell me right now.”

The man was still sweating, but he glowered at the thing before him in disgust. “I wouldn’t get any closer if I were you.”

“Do you know who I am?” the bogeyman said, anger welling up in his gravelly voice. “Have you heard the stories? The shadow which steals away women and children and fools?” The ground shook a bit, but the party stared blankly. They seemed confused. “The man I am looking for did not shrink in my presence. You lot are tiny. I can smell your fear. And humans should be afraid, for I am —

BEEADDLEDRUNG.”

The valley was quiet for a moment except for the reverberation of the monster’s name, which he revelled in. The name had served him well, and it was his.

“Pfft. Who?” Kinjo chuckled.

“...BEEADDLEDRUNG,” the monster repeated, this time louder.

“Never heard of you,” the muscular man said matter-of-factly. The party leader looked on, somewhat at a loss. It was an interesting name.

What!?

The bogeyman’s eyes went wide in shock. He used to thrive off of the stories humans would tell, the things they’d whisper about him. “Don’t go into the woods alone,” they’d warn, or “don’t stay up until dawn. That’s when you’ll start to see him.” He’d left plenty of signatures in the past — a trail of fingers, or untangled intestines, or even just a whole lot of blood. And they ate it up. He even often left a survivor. He’d tell them, “I am BEEADDLEDRUNG. Take care, and spread the word.” They started to imagine him everywhere, and it inspired greater fear in their hearts. It made them delicious. Because he was BEEADDLEDRUNG, and there was no human who could avoid his gaze, none who could escape his pursuit. He was a king in the shadows, a being with no equal… except for that man. Who? Never heard of you? They’d grown arrogant in the fifty cycles he had waited. They’d grown insolent. Useless. Pennybard shook his head.

In an instant, the beast burst forward and flailed the sword around in one hand as he lept. The bearded assassin reacted swiftly and piereced the wind with his dagger in pursuit of the beast. This was the opening he’d been waiting for, one he thought he’d been deprived of until the thing became distracted. He’d render it lifeless before it could reach his comrades.

BEEADDLEDRUNG’s shadow leapt off the ground, humming delightedly. It skewered the assassin. His fresh blood was the first thing to reveal itself before his body flashed into visibility. He choked on something which rose out of his throat, but never learned what it was.

The swordsman jumped back, not far enough to avoid the monster, but enough to avoid the imminent explosion of magical energy. Kinjo, the mage, had prepared the ground with a spell which would detonate upon contact. A pillar of blinding blue light shot up around BEEADDLEDRUNG, who tumbled over before catching himself with the hero’s sword. He could feel the top layer of his skin burning off. Pennybard was unphased.

When the light faded, Kinjo was surprised to see the monster still standing. Then, before he could speak, his mouth fell agape. There was a long splatter of blood behind BEEADDLEDRUNG, a crimson trail, and something was tearing and chewing at the body which lay at its end.

“O Lumen,” the mage muttered, “I humbly ask: what is this monster before me?”

The beast’s body was steaming, its exposed flesh a sickly blue. Blood still crackled on its surface and oozed out to form a thin membrane.

“KRJRKJBP,” commanded BEEADDLEDRUNG. New skin wove itself around his steaming flesh. It carelessly laced itself through his tattered garments, and new tufts of fur sprouted from the skin like weeds. His eyes glowed, the facade of intelligence they carried before swallowed by their emptiness.

[Bogeyman - Lvl 99]

Whatever was feasting on the assassin’s body finished and hissed satisfactorily before whipping back toward its caster. It danced around him, dividing into many tendrils. Pennybard shook his head.

“You’ve made a mistake. My master has an awful temper, and a very fragile ego,” said the imp. He couldn't help but grin. The beast flicked the cage hard, which dizzied the imp so much that he became sick.

“O Ignis,” Erika began, the head of the arrow she aimed catching fire, “please, be my-”

“IGNIS,” BEEADDLEDRUNG roared, tongue flapping. “Hush.”

The fire went out, even the little blue flames that still tickled the ground, and for a moment Pennybard shuddered. The shadows cackled.

“If you do know anything about this sword, tell me right now.

Before I gobble you up.”