The nippers surged forward, their tiny limbs propelling them across the ground with disturbing speed. I swung the stop sign in wide arcs, connecting with several at once, sending them flying in all directions. They were individually weak, but their numbers made them dangerous.
One latched onto my leg, its teeth piercing through the cargo pants to the flesh beneath. Another rapidly climbed my back, seeking vulnerable spots. I spun, dislodging some, crushing others beneath my feet.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Nessy and the alpha locked in combat, swatting at each other with claws of dark, glistening fluid and concrete glove. The husky was panting, the glove clearly heavy and unbalancing her slightly.
Numbers flashed above both as time seemed to slow between the swing of the stop sign and its impact against the mass of nippers.
[Nessy HP: 83%]
[CreteGlove HP: 21%]
Nessy let out a battle cry that was equal parts human determination and canine fury. Her concrete glove crackled with strain as she swung at the alpha, the impact sending vibrations across the parking lot. I could see her muscles tensing beneath her fur, her eyes narrowed with single-minded focus.
[Nessy HP: 81%]
[CreteGlove HP: 16%]
The impact sent the Nipper Alpha flying backwards, but it was clear that each hit was hurting Nessy and damaging the precious concrete. If they kept at it, the CreteGlove would likely perish.
A nipper latched onto my shoulder, its teeth finding the gap between my collarbone and neck. Pain flared, hot and immediate. I reached back, grabbing its slick, ferrofluid body and tearing it away, leaving behind a trail of my own blood.
[Health: 87% | Achievement unlocked: "Nipper Blood Donor"]
Pain blossomed across my shoulder, a crimson flower unfurling beneath my skin. I staggered, momentarily disoriented by the flashing silver text that seemed to mock my suffering. The smaller nippers swarmed around me, an undulating carpet of malevolence, their tiny teeth seeking purchase on any exposed flesh.
I caught sight of Calvin standing in the doorway of the mini-mart. He leaned casually against the frame, sipping from what appeared to be a chipped mug with a faded red heart design against a black square.
His tinfoil hat gleamed in the fading light as he gave us an enthusiastic thumbs up, his expression that of a proud teacher watching students tackle a particularly challenging exam.
"Little help here?" I called out, my voice strained with effort and pain.
Calvin merely raised his mug in salute, making no move to intervene. His eyes—both the biological pair and the dozens of paper ones adorning his clothing—observed my suffering with academic interest.
Nessy was still locked in combat with the alpha, her concrete-armored fist landing blow after devastating blow. But I could see her strength waning, her movements becoming less precise, more desperate. The concrete gauntlet was cracking, small fragments falling away with each impact.
[Nessy HP: 78%]
[CreteGlove HP: 11%]
Realization struck me with sudden clarity: I was accomplishing absolutely nothing with my sign swinging. The smaller nippers were essentially invincible, reforming after each blow. And Nessy's battle with the alpha was a war of attrition she couldn't possibly win.
I abandoned my futile assault on the smaller creatures and charged toward Nessy, my stop sign raised high. The nippers pursued, their tiny fluid-limbs carrying them across the broken pavement with disturbing speed.
"Roll!" I shouted as I reached her side.
To her credit, Nessy didn't hesitate, dropping into a crouch and rolling left out of my way. The alpha, momentarily confused by this new development, paused its attack—the perfect opening.
I brought the edge of the stop sign down with all my strength, cleaving through the alpha's amorphous form where its neck might have been if it had conventional anatomy. The metal edge passed through with surprising ease, like slicing through cold molasses.
The alpha's seven red eyes blinked in astonishment, its body separating into two distinct halves that slumped uselessly to the ground. A horrific, static-filled screech emanated from both pieces—not the sound of dying, but of outrage.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
"Run!" I grabbed Nessy's non-concrete arm, pulling her toward Calvin's mini-mart. "Now!"
She didn't need to be told twice. We sprinted across the parking lot. Behind us, the alpha's halves were already stretching toward each other, trying to reconstitute.
The smaller nippers gave chase, their bodies flowing like liquid mercury across the cracked asphalt. One latched onto my sneaker and calves, its teeth and claws sinking deep. Another caught the hem of Nessy's skirt, another was climbing rapidly toward her thigh.
Pain flared with each step, but we didn't slow, didn't look back. The mini-mart's entrance loomed before us, Calvin still watching with that same infuriating calm from his position inside, as if we were simply returning from a leisurely stroll rather than fleeing for our lives.
We stumbled across the threshold, collapsing onto the faded linoleum floor in a heap of panting exhaustion and adrenaline. I expected the nippers to follow, to surge into the store after us or for Calvin to shut the door. Instead the little monsters stopped abruptly at the entrance—a roiling, seething mass of dark ferrofluid that refused to cross the invisible line where Calvin's domain began.
I noted that the ones clinging to us washed off our bodies as we crossed the threshold of the doorway.
The ginger bearded man stepped forward, regarding the creatures with stern disapproval, like a principal confronting misbehaving students.
"Now, now," he chided sternly. "You know the rules. This is my domain. You are not welcome here. Shoo off."
The nippers responded with a cacophony of clicks and electronic whines that somehow conveyed both frustration and bargaining. The sound was incomprehensible to me, yet Calvin nodded as if understanding perfectly.
"I see," he replied, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "You want your life-crete back. You believe it belongs to you."
More clicks, more whines. The alpha had partially reformed now, its halves joined by thin strands of dark matter that were thickening by the second. Its eyes glowed with undisguised malice.
"Well, that's where you're wrong," Calvin continued, his voice taking on a lecturing tone. "The life-crete doesn't belong to you. It never did. A small shard of it chose them." He gestured toward Nessy's armored hand, which was now crumbling. Somehow the husky-girl knew exactly what to do and held her hand over the orange bucket, watching as the concrete flaked off, once again filling the container.
The nippers' response was a harsh burst of static that needed no translation.
Denial. Rage. Threat.
Calvin's expression hardened, his silver-blue eyes narrowing beneath the brim of his tinfoil hat. "I suggest you reconsider your position," he said quietly. "This is my domain, and my word here is law. The life-crete shard made its choice. You would do well to respect that."
He pulled out his gun and pointed it at the Nipper Alpha.
"I suggest you leave," he commanded, his voice resonating with unexpected authority. "Before I decide that your existence is unnecessary to my purpose. Consider the following–unlike my apprentice’s sign-weapon which only momentarily stops you, my Syntropic bullets have the power to inflict ever-increasing pain and death on your otherwise limitless existence. What is worth more to you, finite life-crete which will expire and harden in a few days' time or potentially endless pain from a wound that will never, ever heal?”
The nippers retreated slightly, their aggression dampened by something like uncertainty. The alpha's eyes dimmed fractionally, its newly reformed body tensing as if preparing for another attack.
Then, with surprising suddenness, it turned and slithered away, its smaller kin following like a receding tide of darkness. Within moments, the smaller nippers had disappeared into the cracks and shadows of the parking lot, leaving behind only small smears of ferrofluid that evaporated in the cold air.
The alpha snarled sounding like a hundred clacking staple-guns and then retreated back into the concrete puddle, vanishing in its depths. One of the shopping carts suspended in the concrete wobbled ever so slightly and then the view became perfectly still.
Calvin returned his gun into its holster with a satisfied nod.
"Well done, questers," he turned to us with a broad smile. "You've successfully procured the life-crete! And with minimal blood loss, too! Most impressive."
I stared at him incredulously, still half-sprawled on the floor, blood seeping from multiple bite wounds. "You could have helped," I managed, panting and wincing.
"Nah," Calvin shook his head emphatically. "That would have defeated the purpose entirely. Quests must be completed by the questers, or they hold far less reward value." He tapped his tinfoil hat knowingly. "Besides, I had complete faith in your abilities."
Nessy, who had been examining the procured concrete with dog-like fascination, looked up at this. "You knew we'd succeed?"
"Let's just say the probability was favorable," Calvin replied. "You've not only successfully obtained the concrete but gained its allegiance. A rare achievement indeed! There’s some bandages and other medical supplies on that there shelf. Patch yourselves up and use the concrete before it… expires.”
“It’s gonna expire?!” Nessy barked, eyes growing wide.
“It is quite damaged and disconnected from the rest of the puddle,” Calvin nodded. “And slowly dying. It cannot exist long in its current state. Use it to create new life before it hardens forevermore.”
“But it’s…” the husky-girl whined.
"The concrete chose you, yes," Calvin stated. "Formed a bond. Materials, especially transformed ones, have preferences now. Loyalties. The Nipper Alpha is feasting on it, guarding it because it recognized its value, not because it belonged to it." He smiled broadly. "And now it belongs to you, but it will not last long. Which means our quest can proceed to its next phase."
"Planting Sandwichu, yeah?" Nessy asked, panting, wide tongue out.
“Yes. Don’t be sad for the concrete,” Calvin said. “Its devotion will carry onto the next stage of the bloom when it dies.”
“Okkay,” Nessy smiled with renewed enthusiasm, her tail beginning to wag despite her obvious exhaustion and her bleeding hands and feet.
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