“That’s a bad stick. Very inefficient. Unsafe grip. Poor leverage. So poor it doesn’t even get numbers. Very sad.”
“It’s what I’ve got.”
Tyler tested a swing. The bar dragged through the air, slower than he liked. His arms trembled slightly when he stopped, as the momentum took him slightly off balance.
The world beyond the lab had settled into something that looked, at first glance, almost peaceful.
The grass came up to his knees in places, bending in slow waves as he moved through it. Trees had claimed ground aggressively, young and fast-growing, their roots buckling what little concrete remained. A footpath cut through the greenery, cracked but visible, as if the land had decided it was still useful.
Tyler followed it, hoping that there was still some pattern hidden underneath the growth that remained. Little breadcrumbs he could follow, hopefully, to others and some sort of civilisation.
He walked for nearly a mile, the terrain gradually thickening into something closer to forest than campus. The silence pressed in, broken only by the soft crunch of leaves underfoot and the distant creak of branches shifting without wind.
He passed a brick wall half-hidden by moss. It stood alone, detached from anything that might have once justified its existence. No adjoining structure. No rubble. Just a stretch of red brick rising waist-high from the earth. As Tyler observed it, a section of mortar gave way. The bricks didn’t fall dramatically. They simply… separated. One slid out of place and dropped soundlessly into the grass. Another followed. No tremor. No outside force.
Tyler moved on, the realisation that the world he knew was crumbling away in front of him. He had often thought of an apocalypse—not quite like this, but more in a carefree way of being alone and peaceful. He would drive to work early, the roads empty, thinking he was the only person left. That thought now didn’t bring him peace, but scared him a little.
A faint sound drifted through the trees ahead. Tyler slowed. Wet, rhythmic impacts. Another squelchy. But also ragged breathing. Someone grunting and cursing.
Someone up ahead was fighting; someone else was being pursued by the viscous creature, hoping to devour them. Tyler slowed, crouched, and gripped his bar tighter as he listened more intently.
The sounds came again, over to his right. A man’s voice, older and hoarse.
“Stay back—! Get off—!”
A dull thud, and a sickening wet slap followed.
“That is a bad noise.”
Tyler moved forward and to his left anyway. He pushed through a curtain of low branches and saw them. An old man was on his feet, barely. Grey hair plastered to his forehead with sweat, jacket torn, one sleeve hanging loose where something had ripped it. He held a wooden stick—more walking aid than weapon—and swung it wildly at a pale, wobbling mass pressing toward him.
The squelchy was bigger than the one in the lab, wider and thicker. Its surface rippled as it moved, folds shifting and reforming with each sluggish advance. Cloudy eye-clusters pulsed across its bulk, fixed on the man with awful patience.
The old man hit it with his stick—a wet thump—and the stick sank in an inch before bouncing back. It hadn’t penetrated like Tyler’s bar had. Was this creature more durable?
The squelchy surged at the old man as he stumbled. Tyler’s chest tightened as panic gripped him. The squelchy flowed forward, its mass spreading like spilled meat, climbing the man’s legs in a slow, deliberate engulfing motion. The old man screamed as the squelchy advanced up his body, trying to consume him fully.
Tyler could see the old man inside the creature. He kicked wildly as he felt his clothes and skin start to dissolve. His movements got slower, the final fights of life draining from him. Tyler moved before his thoughts finished forming.
He didn’t run in heroically, like a saviour, but angrily, like he refused to watch what was happening. He raised his makeshift weapon above his head, ready to strike down vengeance on this monster.
Al’s words rang in his head: “You are very low numbers.”
“I know,” Tyler growled between clenched teeth, “but I’m not about to stand and watch someone be melted down. Dissolved to feed this hideous creature.”
“Lower than low,” Al insisted. “You are—you are paper.”
The squelchy climbed higher up the old man. Thankfully, it looked like he had passed out as the creature covered his face, small blisters appearing on his cheeks. His movements had all stopped; he was just floating inside this thing, slowly being digested.
“Wait. That thing is not a baby,” Al said, voice rising. “That thing is older. Stronger. You should not—”
Tyler ignored the warning as he came up behind the creature and swung his bar down, trying to avoid the man now trapped inside it. The metal bar struck the squelchy’s back with a dull, sickening resistance. And there was give as the bar passed through the creature, bringing with it a spray of its internal fluid that splashed across a nearby tree, its bark sizzling in the daylight.
Tyler swung again, just as the cluster of eyes on its head shot round to face him for the first time—the creature now spotting its new prey. The swing caught it just below its eyes, passing through the full length of its body and exploding out the side like a bullet. More internal liquid followed.
Tyler backed away over a fallen tree and gave himself a little space. He played over the attack. His bar had gone right through the creature as if it had pierced it, while the old man’s attack with the stick had hit it more like it was a solid object. Was this a defence mechanism, or was it something to do with the material used?
A thought materialised in his head: the unstable core. Would it work against the creature? Would it be corrosive to its insides? He didn’t have a power cable here, or any other means to fight it other than hitting it. And if Al was right, and this thing was just stronger and faster, he needed some other advantage to help him here.
Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.
He reached in his jacket pocket, all the time moving backwards. This squelchy seemed slower than the other one, but maybe that was due to carrying a person inside it—slowly eating away at its food. He looked at the small round stone again, words appearing behind his eyes.
Juvenile Aggregant Core
Contains corrosive properties.
Extremely reactive.
He carefully wedged the object into one of the holes near the bottom of his bar. A crack opened slightly due to the force, and a green liquid seeped into the metal. It hissed and smouldered as the metal started dissolving. He didn’t have much time—if the core burnt through the bar, it would just fall straight out.
He waited until the squelchy passed through the fallen tree he had stepped over, then jumped on top of it. He sprinted along it, turned around, and ran at the squelchy, jumping into the air and bringing the bar down as he fell, directly aiming at the creature’s head. This time not taking any care if he hit the old man still inside.
The bar sank in slightly, vibrating violently in Tyler’s hands. The shock travelled up his wrists, up his elbows, and into his shoulders like someone had jammed a tuning fork into his bones. The bar stuck solid in the creature’s head.
He tried to yank the bar free, but it was stuck firmly in the creature’s head, and the core attached to the end was spreading out a green, almost black liquid that was spreading outwards.
Tyler let go of the bar and stepped back. The squelchy convulsed, dark holes appearing all over it, and green and black liquid oozed out. Its eyes started spinning in all directions around its head, as if looking for something. A larger hole appeared at its base, green and black liquid gushing out in a torrent, bringing the old man with it head-first.
The squelchy shrank inwards, elongated to a height of nearly twelve foot, then lost all stability and splashed down like an exploding water balloon.
Tyler stumbled back, chest heaving, heart pounding as he quickly checked himself over for any damage from the resulting splash the creature made as it dissolved. A familiar sensation brushed Tyler’s awareness.
TARGET TERMINATED: MYXID AGGREGANT (JUVENILE)
EXPERIENCE GAINED: 45
Tyler ignored the notification and looked at the old man. His clothes were rotten in places, one boot completely gone, and most of the flesh on his foot. The same was true for his hands and face. His left hand was the worst, with three fingers rotted to just stumps. He grabbed the man’s jacket in what looked like the cleanest place and pulled him out of the remains of the squelchy.
The old man gasped a sharp, ugly inhale that sounded like his lungs were full of the squelchy’s toxic insides. It sounded like death. The old man had took too much. It was pretty amazing how he was still alive—and also a terrible thing. He would be, no doubt, in so much pain right now, slowly suffering as he eventually died.
Tyler stared at the man’s face, a feeling of sorrow forming in his soul as the features shifted from old man into something else—something familiar enough to make Tyler’s stomach drop.
Recognition clicked into place like a lock. Keith. He’d seen him this morning, in his security hut, drinking coffee and looking up from the newspaper he was always reading.
This wasn’t a random person being eaten. This was someone he knew, a real person from his own life dissolving in front of him. And behind his eyes, he could feel the system watching—quiet and pleased—like an accountant noting a successful transaction.
Tyler dropped to his knees. The damage was horrific. He tried to say something, but no words came. He didn’t know what to say.
Where the squelchy had touched him, the man’s legs and lower torso looked as though something corrosive had been poured over them and left to work. Skin was gone in places entirely, replaced by pale, slick tissue that caught the light wetly. What remained was blistered and peeling, edges greyed and curling back from the damage. Clothing hadn’t torn so much as failed, fabric eaten away into brittle, warped remnants.
A moment later the smell hit him. A chemical smell, sweet and sour at the same time. And rotten flesh—like burned plastic and rotten meat. Tyler gagged involuntarily and backed away.
Keith was breathing still. What a horrendous way to go. Each breath came ragged and shallow, chest hitching as it fought to rise again.
Tyler swallowed hard. “My God, Keith. I’m so sorry.” The words felt soft and hollow. A sickening realisation followed: he had tried, but he couldn’t save Keith. Not from this.
“Okay, good. He will stop soon,” Al said calmly.
“What?”
“I mean breathing,” Al clarified. “Not existing.”
Something hot flared in Tyler’s head. A man was dying here in one of the most horrific ways Tyler could imagine, and all Al could say was it’s fine, he’ll be dead soon.
He looked back down at Keith, at the ruined skin, the uneven rise and fall of his chest. “That’s it?” he demanded. “You’re just… fine with that?”
Al didn’t answer right away.
“That’s not acceptable. I’m not leaving him.”
Al made a small, noncommittal sound, but never offered anything else as Tyler sat back against a nearby tree, close enough to hear every wet, rattling breath. It was a horrible way to go, he thought. Slow. Alone. Dissolving while the world carried on around you.
Time stretched as Tyler kept vigil over the old man dying a few feet away from him. The light shifted through the branches overhead. Birds returned cautiously, calling in short, uncertain bursts.
Keith kept breathing. Tyler prayed for him to stop—for his suffering to end—but it seemed the old man was stubborn. Tyler was surprised to see a faint smile on his own face at that thought.
Tyler’s gaze drifted, more out of restless adrenaline than intention, and snagged on something near the edge of the dissolving remains behind him.
A glint. He hesitated, then leaned forward and reached into the thinning sludge. The object came free with a soft, wet sound.
You obtained Aggregant Core (Lesser)
A core gained from a juvenile Aggregant
Contains corrosive properties.
Extremely reactive.
“Oh,” Al said brightly. “That’s a bit.”
Tyler ignored Al and placed the core in his jacket pocket again. It had come in extremely useful during that fight, and he wondered if all these creatures dropped a core when they died.
He was pulled from his thoughts by a loud gasp. He had waited for this—the last breaths of a dying man.
He moved closer to Keith, wanting to be there as he finally went. His chest was still heaving, but the sound that tore from his throat earlier wasn’t wet anymore. The broken rattle was gone, and it sounded more even now.
Keith lay where the squelchy had left him, chest heaving. The sound that tore from his throat wasn’t the wet, broken rattle from before. Tyler’s hands hovered uselessly for half a second, afraid to touch him and afraid not to.
“Keith,” he said, voice raw. “Hey. Stay with me.”
Keith’s breathing was still shallow—but it had rhythm now. A horrible, fragile rhythm, but there. Tyler’s eyes tracked over him automatically, cataloguing damage like his brain still thought this was a problem it could debug. And then he froze.
The damage was… changing. Not to his clothes—they were still rotten in places—but the skin where the squelchy had touched him, tried to dissolve him, was looking different. Healthier. The slick, melting quality had faded. The wounds looked thicker. Pulled in on themselves.
“It’s stopping,” Al said, with quiet satisfaction. “I told you.”
The swelling along Keith’s face had gone down—not much. Just enough to make the lines of his jaw clearer. Enough that Tyler didn’t have to hope anymore. He looked at his hand where the finger had been dissolved and found stumps sticking out where none had been before.
Was he being healed? Was something mending his body?
Keith sucked in a deep breath, his eyes flung open, and he lunged upwards like he was breaking the surface after being dragged under too long.
The scream that came out of him was too high. Too sharp. It scraped at Tyler’s ears, raw and animal, the sound of a body realising it had almost ended.
Tyler grabbed his shoulders instinctively. “Keith! Keith, it’s okay—you’re—you’re alive—”
Keith’s hands clawed at Tyler’s sleeves, fingers shaking, eyes wild and unfocused as he tried to orient himself in a world that had gone violently wrong.
Then screams broke into sobbing breaths, and the old man wailed uncontrollably into Tyler’s shoulder.
