Vanderby yanked Estra’s wrist, pulling her up. A finger tapped across where she had just sat, lightly rubbing and scraping the dirt as it went.
Further down from them Linc dashed over slender black fingers, but was forced to stop his sprint back.
From opposite cliff faces a number of fingers had found each other, gently rubbing one another, intertwining and making an impassable mesh. He turned back and saw one at his ankle, already tapping his shoe, rubbing it to feel its texture.
The other fingers of the black hand came wrapping towards his ankle like a closing snare.
With two hands Linc brought his katana down, haphazardly slashing clean through the black finger. His blade’s tip sparked against the stone as he jumped. The other black fingers closed in, capturing the freshly severed one, and before Linc’s feet landed on top of them, the hand snapped away, disappearing with its prize in a blink.
It wouldn’t take long till its wounded hand would be back, searching with a vengance. Crunching bone sounds came from the walls.
Gritting his teeth, Linc ignored his disgust, looking for a way across. But his eye caught sight of a severed hand, the one he had cut when using his skill. It was his ticket out of here—though there was competition for the morsel of meat.
One stray finger had already began to tap it, gently nudging on the severed hand, trying to get a response.
Linc’s eyes bulged as more fingers joined in. They recognized their own—but only for so long. They would realize this was severed flesh, and it would disappear soon.
Come on, shit, come on! Linc thought.
Linc was only a few steps away, but more of the wet fingers began to probe their friend, nudging and pulling. They realized, and sprung like a trap.
In a second it would disappear.
There was no time to raise his sword. Link pounced forward, bore down with his sword, pushing his hand on the back of the blade and crashed onto it with his weight.
His blade didn’t cut all the way through.
“Grah! Come one!” Linc push his knee on the back of his sword, digging it through the creatures hand with all his might.
The snare closed. The entire severed hand suddenly tugged, ripping away with so much force that Linc was flung towards the cliff.
His shoulder dashed against a rock. But this was all he needed. The hand was torn in two, leaving Linc with a chunk of the palm and two of the long fingers.
Ignoring the pain he pushed himself up, taking his prize away before more of these slimy tappers could come seeking.
He hurled the piece of slippery flesh into the mesh of weaving fingers that blocked the way.
The bleeding black hand was like an unwelcome guest as it limply fell on the others. It was like it had intruded on an intimate dance.
The fingers on either side of the cliff slowly unlaced themselves from one another, taking gentle care.
They snapped around the unwelcome one. Each of them tugged on one of the two remaining fingers, and as they found resistance they suddenly ripped it apart, splitting it through the remains of palm.
Each side disappeared in a flash into the opposing cliff faces. For only a moment, a mist of red blood linked each cliff together, floating then disappearing.
Crunching bones sounded again. Linc gave each side one last glance and rushed forward again, back to Vanderby and Estra’s side.
A single dark finger found Vanderby’s ankle. Van hacked it once but the other fingers were already closing it, snapping shut.
Linc’s eyes bulged and he shouted again.
“Now!” Linc screamed, seeing Vanderby about to get snatched away.
Linc gripped his katana, sweeping it back to prepare for the swing.
Vanderby and Estra knew what Linc’s call meant—they lowered their heads as if they were submitting to a higher authority. Their eyes closing. But they still saw the bright flash through their eyelids.
Linc’s eyes blazed and his sword and body alike turned into a golden flash.
*Crack!*
A gleaming burst of golden light lit up the canyon, bouncing across the canyon walls like jagged lightening. Hundreds of black fingers all froze.
Linc stood in the middle of them all, flicking the blood from his blade. All of them fell as the same time, their wrists severed in perfect harmony.
*huff, huff, huff*
Linc stowed his sword then gave into his exhaustion, bending over onto his knees, panting.
“Nice one Linc.” Vanderby called.
“27 seconds.” Linc waved, “Just in case.” He said, calling out the cooldown of his only skill.
Vanderby nodded back, and began to stomp his shield onto five fingers wrapped around his leg, freeing himself. Estra was breathing fast, holding a spear she normally used as a backup weapon, which was even more useless than Vanderby’s dagger.
The three of them had their own strengths, but they were far too mismatched to be useful. Unfortunately, they were forced to become bounty hunters because of their mismatched skills, useless for most dungeons.
Vanderby, had an odd shield-and-dagger class. He was like a tanky assassin, which made him the worst of both roles.
Linc, while powerful, only had one skill: flash-step. His class had given him nothing else, and no other skills. It was up to him to make the most of it, and hone it—Linc had learned that using the skill without a weapon in hand gave him temporary invisibility, but it came with drawbacks: it had a thirty-second cooldown, and if he couldn’t sever whatever his sword touched, the skill would end.
As for Estra, her pseudo love-type class was useless in combat. Her skills were entirely human-centered, suited for a city rather and climbing social ladders rather than a dungeon. Of course, she was considered non-variant because her weak, longing-love magic only affected her.
After sweating for a moment, Linc checked over his battered sword, blunted and dented from scraping against stone, and with a frown he joined the others. Without wasting more time they clambered back out of the canyon, the fingers below them slowly emerging again and snatching away the fresh platter of severed hands.
Linc climbed first, followed by Estra and then Vanderby. Getting further up the slope they sat, recovering for a moment. However, Estra remained standing, glancing around the trees, her eyes darting around, nervous about what else may be out there. She was having doubts about the journey, but seeing how hard Linc and Vanderby had worked hard just to keep her safe, she kept them to herself.
Scanning the forest with her eyes, she saw something.
“Guys.” She said, stepping back, pointing into the forest.
It was dark, bouncing between the trees.
Linc stood, readying his sword again.
It came closer and hid behind a large root. The only thing sticking out was a pair of ears, twitching left and right, each ear looking like brown leaves.
“What is that…” Linc said.
A little kitten suddenly bounced onto the root, making the forest seem like it was its own little playground. It cooed and let out an innocent whimper.
“Mew”
Yet none of them lowered their weapons, waiting to see what it would do.
The little Orren kitten stretched, curled into a ball on the root and closed its curious eyes—Its mission, was complete.
A gentle breeze drifted through the woods, sealing the end of the day as the cold air worked through the forest.
The little Orren’s petals began to sway in the breeze, falling apart and drifting into cracks between the roots like a fading rose as its body fell apart, into petals carried by the wind.
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