V M Grim Adventures in Grimlet

Malloki Tuwile

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The trek was slow. The dollhouse, being rather boxy and unbending in mobility, was not fit well for walking. The eight dextrous spider legs that tick-tick-ticked away at the ground made due with sheer number and coordination. A house, however, was still a house.

When Malloki awoke some hours later, he peeled himself off the bed after a long yawn. Eyes barely open, he adorned the clothes set out the evening before. With night prominent outside, he could not see the shifting landscape well enough to take notice.

Downstairs he went, his tiny feet making hardly a sound with his weight so minuscule in doll-size despite each heavy step he took. For all intents and purposes, this might be how a normal man might begin his morning. Kitchen for a bowl of Unlucky Charms, and then den for some morning television.

As he stepped into the room, his brow furrowed. A spoon in his mouth and marshmallows on his tongue, they barely had time to dissolve before he was wondering why his television was already on…

And why there were two.

The fuck? The groggy mind of a sleepy Malloki finally started churning out the smoke. That was his window, and shit was moving. Massive trees were moving closer and passing by. A light was steadily growing larger and larger, albeit very slowly. “We’re FUCKING MOVING?”

His flip-flops slapped as he dashed to the window to look outside, nearly spilling his breakfast all over the pane. “I have a RIDE?!”

“That’s also a house…”

“That makes food that doesn’t even ……” He quickly decided not to question the details of Dolloki’s gift.

Instead, he focused on the light ahead. Television could wait. The curious man plopped his ass upon the overstuffed armchair to watch the approaching light. He had to keep a close eye on the possible fun to come!



About an hour in, cereal gone, chainsaw sound effects blaring, there came a knock on the roof of the dollhouse. A thunderous voice rang throughout the manor. “Hello? Anyone in there?”

Having lost interest in the light about ten seconds into his devotion to it, Malloki had turned to one of the many bloody videogames gifted by Dolloki. This one, featuring a chainsaw-wielding protagonist mowing down hoards of mall-goers, turned out to be a huge success.

“Ooh, guests!” Game paused but not forgotten, Malloki practically pranced to the door. It squeaked like a house befitting its stylized age as he stepped out. The sickening crunch of teeth cracking announced Malloki’s near-instant growth. A man in some odd uniform fell backward holding his mouth and squealing about biting his tongue.

“Uhh... “ The second guardsman pulled Malloki’s attention from rubbing his noggin at the sweet ache left by the glass jaw. “Are you… No... Phil! PHIL! Get off your ass and look at this!”

The snuffling man glared up at Malloki through watery eyes. The look of destain immediately turned into wide eyes of admiration. “OH MY LANTA! ITS--! ITS--!”

“Mother-Fucking Malloki the Mad!” The non-damaged-good Guard finished the thought. “Man, you were crazy out there! Like a raving lunatic!” The standing guard, a chubby but not flabby man, had a shit-eating grin across his face.

The other, a scraggly youth barely out of his teens, held his bloody mouth with a renewed sense of pride. “I hope this left a scar -- dude, dude, was that really Jak’s ear?”

“What’s a Jak? -- nevermind.. Where am I?”

The more rounded guard turned a bit to gesture with a meaty arm to the city gate. “This is Grimlet. A little hamlet with a grim name,” he added with a chuckle. “You looking to come in? Pretty sure you’d be the talk of the town. A lot of shit going on, we could use a celebrity to brighten up the day.”

Positive reactions… welcoming tone… friendly smile… admiration… A cold sweat ran down Malloki’s brow. “Uh… s-sure! Yea! I’d love to, uh… talk to people… and… socialize… and other normal things.”

The young man slowly rose to his feet. There was a sway, suggesting he might have jarred more than a few teeth in that tumble. “There’s a pub still open in town center!” The wide eyes of the spirited youngster turn to his commanding officer. “Sir. Is it possible to escort the VIP to the Drunken Dragon?”

There was a moment of hesitation in the larger man. Thick arms consisting of a layer of hearty fat over bulging muscles, chest like two anvils, and a gut suggesting a hearty helping of carbs every night… and yet, there was a fangirl within this man. “Granted. Return immediately afterward. We have a job to do.” The words were laced with a touch of venom.

The greenhorns were usually tasked with escorts within the city, but he had to be on point. Sometimes the money that came with the rank did not pay enough to miss out on the willy-nilly nature of one fresh on the force. “No lollygagging. As for you, Malloki the Mad. No pattycake.”

The surprise of the situation had pushed games from his mind for a moment. The fandom of the two guards still had him reeling. “Yea, no worry. No pattycake.” Not that you two have to worry about it. I can’t even see you.

Neither of the guards had the power within to brighten the permeating darkness of the world around him. They simply did not show up. He could physically see them, but not through the Eye for Power. Thus far, he could only “see” a few blips with the Eye for Power.

As Malloki passed through the gate in the wake of the young Phil, Dollhouse clicking along behind him on those eerily agile legs, he heard the older guard talking into some sort of device. Not long after, one of the blips on his radar began to move in his direction. This was one of the brighter sources of power.

Maybe a little pattycake…
 

Malloki Tuwile

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The little town of Grimlet was little more than a hamlet of civilization on the border of a thick bog. Perhaps the name was more of a descriptor than a proper noun? Nevertheless, with the walls of mortar and stone reaching a solid six foot with embedded metal spikes topping it, the town looked to be well defensible against predators that run wild.

Yet, one predator roamed the streets with welcoming escort of one of the town’s own guards. A murderer for fun was the focus of praise and delighted eyes. Why? Because everyone thought Malloki the Mad was but a persona for Dante’s Abyss.

None suspected that it was, in fact, the true Malloki and this civil awkward man was just what came when he was deprived of the game. His shoulders rose up and his chin was nearly tucked into his chest, as if he could recoil from the calls of his name.

“He may be last place, but he sure as hell put on a show!”

“Ruffled ol’ Gil’s feathers, tha’s fer sure!”

“Don’t forget that stiff Mustang guy!”

“Man, I wish he was still wearing that leather -MMF! I’d let him play pattycake with me all night long, if you know what I mean.” This was spoken a bit louder than necessary, and when Malloki’s dark eyes turned onto its source he received a wink from a busty brunette with more than her share of battle scars peeking from beneath the studded leather armor she wore.

His face burned - and not in a fun way.

Focus! Playmate incoming! He focused on the glow moving his way. While the brunette had her own glow, she was not as bright as the source incoming. As he walked past her, he could sense that glow following along at a leisure pace. Fuck!

“Malloki Tuwile!” The thunderous shout roared from down the street. His eyes dart up to catch the sight of an incoming cloaked figure. No, not a cloak - just an old tattered duster and a fedora, both a dark shade of brown. The loud man with a forceful presence of voice had an exposed face, though most of it was littered by burns.

With eyes meeting, he gestured with a gloved hand for the guard to leave. “Sir,” announced the greenhorn’s begrudging acknowledgment.

Malloki continued forward, and this stranger met him in his path. “Malloki Tuwile, AKA Malloki the Mad. I did not expect you to be the one to answer my SOS. Thought you really were a psycho.” The thin man had an unusually deep voice, with a grainy gravel gargling texture. “Normally a bottom-ranker would not be high on my list, but seeing you first hand I think your tenacity and particular assets are just in line with what I needed. It’s going to get gritty, son.”

“What?”

“... What?” Brows furrowed, the seasoned veteran was given pause by Malloki’s confusion. “You… are answering the call right?”

“Frankly, no idea what you’re talking about. I like gritty games though, what’s the rules?”

“Dear God, you really are psycho…” Calling it a game like he would on the big screen more or less went to confirm the man’s suspicions. “I’m Detective Amyrillo of the Grimvale Police Force. Don’t touch me.” Malloki quickly dropped the hand that had been offered at the detective’s introductions.

“There is a band of necromancers with a strong foothold in Grimvale. We have a lot of veteran-filled graveyards we want to keep in the dirt. We can’t get close because of their long-ranged spells and their lethal traps. Last few officers that went in came back out as undead.”

The narrowing eyes of Amyrillo grew even thinner at Malloki’s grin. “Are they strong?”

“Yes.”

“Stronger than you?”

“Some… Their Archmage leader most definitely.”

“I’m in! I need high-calorie food and drinks. Some for now, and some ready for a trip!” The request was met with silence. “Candy, noodles, breads, meats, protein shakes, soft drinks… Doesn’t matter about other nutrition, really. Calories are key to a good long game of pattycake with a lot of strong gamers!”

It was clear the detective wanted to ask what the absolute FUCK Malloki was on about, but he thought better of it. “Alright. Fine. I’ll get that for you ASAP.” The unhinged man’s eyes drifted down as the detective tucked a hand away. “One more thing.”

The sharp pain in his hip was more than a little surprise. Almost instantly, blood-soaked the hip of the detective, located identical to Malloki’s own. The second stab was more expected, as was the third…

”Sleep. The single word ended Malloki’s game. The cloak and dagger man fell to a heap of blood-stained cloth and unconscious meat. A brighter glow seemingly sprang into existence behind him… right where that busty brunette had been.

“As expected,” she chimed. “It’s automatic, isn’t it? And you already healed… Interesting.” The sultry tones circled the Living Voodoo while he was still cackling at the reminiscent wounds. “I suspected that collar would suppress things, but this is a genuine surprise.”

“I am the real detective Opal Amyrillo. Opal, if we’re on good terms.” His gaze upon the slow breathing body was blocked by the mounds clad in leather. His eyes slowly rose from leather to cleavage to the pretty scarred face of the woman. “Follow me. I’ll brief you on the way. Don’t worry about him, he has his own means of healing.”



The sly woman did not speak for a few pregnant moments. It was odd, watching her magnificent glow eb into a faint shimmer. She was somehow suppressing her ability, how fascinating!

Their walk brought them to the door of a regal-looking building. Regal, at least, when compared to the simple abodes surrounding it. “Welcome to the Grimvale police station. Before we go in… were you serious about accepting the mission?”

“I mean… yea… kinda… I dunno…”

“Come now, don’t be shy. You were excited about it just a minute ago.”

“About the game, yea. Kinda bad at talking to people.”

“You were talking to the fake detective just fine, weren’t you?” She inquired with a sly grin. She knew what was up. Psycho boy was awkward around the opposite sex.

“I wasn’t staring at his ass for two blocks.” And apparently blunt with little to no tact too.

“Glad you liked it,” she cooed with a playful grin before clearing her throat. “Anyway, Lieutenant Edgar gave you the vital details. He should be up and about now and gathering your supplies.”

Malloki only heard half of that. “So, uh… What else do I need to know? Like… where do I go, or whatever?”

The woman booped Malloki’s snoot as if he were some harmless kitten. “Just where the front door is. Then you can play pattycake with all the evil necromancers and their spawn. Just don’t play pattycake with anyone else… Well, except me of course.”

With that, she adorned her battle-hardened persona once again. It was an on and off switch she seemed to flip at will and poor Malloki was sent for a loop each time. “Right this way. I’ve stalled long enough for Edgar to gather your supplies.” She opened the door and lead Malloki in.

This time, there was noticeably more sass to the leather-clad hips.
 

Malloki Tuwile

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The enticing sway of the detective’s hips had Malloki feeling all sorts of odd ways. Namely; human. It had been a while since he had thought of that form of pleasure. Even then, the memories were distant and broken thanks to the Good Doctor clearing his head of those pesky humane things.

Usually he avoided the female breed on that level, or quickly dragged them into his game. Dolloki told him to ease off on the games, to look for bigger prizes. On top of that, this woman knew what his games were and seemed to be picking up on what his Dolloki-given gifts could do. She was dangerous.

But damn, she was gorgeous!

“Tuwile. Tuwile!”

“Huh, what?” The normally deranged gaze of the voodoo doll-turn-man blinked rapidly as he returned to the world. “Sorry, I was uh… just thinking.”

Amyrillo rested one hand on her hip and used the other to rub her brow. Others thought she was fed up with the man. Malloki, standing to her side, could see the hint of a smirk. “We were just talking about possible entry points into the crypt.”

“Oh! Oh, hey, people… uh… When did you guys show up?” Somewhere amidst Malloki’s dysphoria he had come to a table. There was a map resting there, a stack of papers, and several men and women in uniforms standing around it. They all stared at Malloki. “What? Something in my teeth?”

An older man with salt-and-pepper goatee and crew cut glowered at the Living Voodoo. “Listen here, sprout. You’re about to march into certain death with a glowstick and popcorn, I don’t know what’s in that empty skull of yours, but--”

“Yea, yea, you think I can’t beat your game, think I’m going to wipe out on level one and you guys will be back at square one.” Malloki, getting back into his usual groove, laughed at the stern man’s lecture. “Well let me tell you something, ya pathetic fuck... “

The sudden snap to reality followed by the venom in his voice had the circle on edge. Except for the detective, who was stifling a laugh. “The only two in this office I can see are HER and EDGAR.”

Edgar was not part of the gathering. From a small desk across the room, he winced.

“This circle of necrococks may be an issue for you, but let me explain something… Even when I lose, I still win. Capiche?” Malloki’s eyes grew wide as adrenaline pumped through his veins. “This is my game now. You are NPC’s that put a marker on my minimap and hope I don’t quicksave.”

Cluelessness flitted across the table. “So shut up. Get my food. And for the LOVE OF DOLLOKI, get me some better clothes!” The shouting had the officers all around holding onto weapons of choice. Pistols, blades, pepperspray, wands - really big variety on whatever planet this was.

“Boy,” the old man stated in a voice as calm as he could muster. Clearly, he could not muster all that much. “I’m not going to--”

Thump. “Not going to what?” His hands had slammed the table hard, yet the softness of his voice was heavier than any physical gesture. “Not going to complain that I’m literally going to walk through your nest of mobs and mini bosses for a highscore you can’t get? Let me explain something here, mortal.”

“I need food to stay alive… but I have infinite lives. Do you? Do you fear death, my dude? Because if you do, you should fear me.”

Even the detective was stricken with a scowl at this. “Food. Clothes. Directions. I don’t need the pep talk. I need to play the game. Skip the mother-fucking tutorial. I’m itching for some pattycake.”

“That’s enough, Chief. We’re not dealing with a vigilante here. We’re dealing with a weapon with legs. Let’s just point and pull the trigger, alright?”

The hands that slammed the table flick towards Amyrillo as if presenting a brand new car. “THANK YOU!”

The man, who Malloki know knew as Chief, grumbled under his breath. He clearly did not like not having sway over people. “Fine. Detective, take him to the spoiled grounds, but no further. Edgar, you’re on errand duty. That thing wants clothes.”

Instantly, Edgar was gone. He did not rise up from his chair and walk out, just Poof! Malloki had to admit that was quite nifty.

With a wordless huff, the Chief left the table. With him went the rest of the crowd. Detective Opal Amyrillo, however, stayed behind. “I don’t like him much either… Walk with me. I told Edgar where to drop your requested items.”

Once again, Sassy-Hips went first and Malloki was quickly shriveling back into the awkward ways of an antisocial teenager. He could deal with confrontation. In fact, he thrived at confrontation. This was something else. The battle scarred detective was a woman of power and mental fortitude. She held herself with confidence in and out of sticky situations as far as Malloki had seen.

As the door to the station closed behind him, Malloki cleared his throat. “So, uh… How about you join me for this lunch aye? And uh… uh… Hang… out… like… you know. Human stuff.”

She released a sound somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. “Human stuff, huh? So you’re not human.”

“No! Well. yes… I think. I don’t really know… Not what I meant!”

Not five feet from the door, she stopped and spun to face Malloki. “What game do you want to play, Malloki? Are you wanting to play pattycake with me? Trying to have me lower my guard so you can do what you tried to do to everyone in that little town on Opaelon?”

“Uhhhhhh……” What was he supposed to say to that? “No?”

“Then preytell, Malloki the Mad. What games do you want to play with me?” There was a grin upon her once-torn lips. A grin Malloki could respect. It was the grin of a player winning the game.

“Could try Dating Simulator, or Dance Dance Revolution.” His lips sucked in between his teeth. He was taller than Amyrillo by a few inches yet she dwarfed him in confidence.

With that smile never wavering, she whipped back around and continued down the trodden stone path. “If you mean real dancing, I don’t dance. If you mean sex, you need a high score at that first game before you unlock that perk.”

He had followed but the retort melted his brain and any connection he had to his feet. Somewhere in that deranged mind, he meant dinner and dancing.

“Oh, you also need a highscore in the Necromancer’s dungeon and an all-time low at pattycake while in Grimlet.” She knew how to speak his language. “If you do both of those, you might earn my perk earlier in Dating Simulator.”

”What just happened?” The voice that questioned this reality was not Malloki’s, though it was in his head. It was next to never when Malloki could hear Dolloki while alive. The experience snapped the man out of his teenagesque daydreaming.

”Did you just… get a girlfriend?” The surprise in Dolloki’s internal voice was palpable. Maybe this was why Malloki lacked confidence. ”Mission first; that is all I will say.”
 

Malloki Tuwile

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It was a rare thing, having Malloki walking in silence. People pass him by with hoots and hollers of praise for his enthusiastic display in the recent games. Others scold him for being too brash, that he could have won the whole pot if he played his cards right. The detective was quiet the whole walk, glancing over her shoulder at the awkward reactions of the madman.

It was when the crowd thinned and the sight of small stone buildings appeared behind a fence that the silence was broken. Just outside the gate stood Edgar with an overstuffed backpack in one hand, and a paper bag in the other.

With the thought of games and food revitalizing the frazzled mind, Malloki came to realize they had left the inner city. Most of the surroundings had a bog-like appearance, though not quite full-blown sink-to-your-knees. More puddles that refused to dry, moss on stones and trees with exposed, winding roots. The late morning sun put a bright spin on the usual doom-and-gloom he thought came with this sort of environment.

“This the place? Nerco-dingo’s inside?”

“I don’t know about any dead canines, but the necromancers are in the catacombs beneath the grave. The yard itself has been boobytrapped heavily, including the f--”

She was going to say fence, but Malloki had paced right past her to lay his hand on the gate to undead hell. A flash of black energy surged, spiderwebbing up the hand that touched the cast iron till it reached around his chest. The energy swirled around his heart and for a moment he felt himself slip away.

“Well, now I really do need a snack!” He chimed with a delighted grin. The heavy thrum of his heart ached with every beat. It deafened him to the sound of a scream somewhere within the expansive graveyard beyond. “That was an insta-win cheat right there, almost had me!”

Edgar and Amyrillo just stared in disbelief. “That’s instant death… We’ve had three officers go down and rise right back up as undead. How did you…”

“Well… It was very close. My guess is the player on the other side rage quit.”

“You… killed through a trap?”

“Pfft, what? Kill? No! He rage quit!” Amyrillo’s question was waved off. “Snack, please! Gotta fill the tank, or I’ll run out of gamer fuel before the BBEG, and we can’t have that. Not if we want the high score.”

At this point, Edgar had learned his lesson. The way this man handled the Chief, the way he had made Edgar himself little more than a puppet of his own destruction… he practically threw the bags of junk food at Malloki.

“PLEASE tell me you got the onion rings! I’d kill for onion rings!” While he was only using kill as a figure of speech, Edgar instantly poofed. “Aww, no onion rings! Dang. Oh well, we’ll start with chocolate doughnuts!”

His first instinct was to devour the junk food in a show of little to no table manners, but the detective was watching. Never had a gas-station-style bag of bulk doughnuts been eaten with such refined eloquence.

“So, uh… Are you gonna follow, or… like… wait here? … I don’t usually have an audience.” His withered hand brought a doughnut to his lips as he asked his question. Slowly, the powdered ring was inserted into his maw, leaving a ring of saliva-soaked sugar as part of its vanishing act. “Itsh no’ tha’ I don wansha, jusht tha’ I work alrone,” he added with his mouth quite thoroughly stuffed.

With gloved hands bared as a sign of no-thanks, she gave the occupied man a kind smile. Such pretty lips… “No, no! Just… enjoying the show from right here! I’ll be able to see you, don’t worry.”

”Eye of Zamria!” She almost immediately bled her sentence into a spell. It was odd how her lips did not match up to the words, like some magic she used translated the spell for the listener. On command, a floating eyeball appeared hovering over her shoulder. It had her iris color, a chocolate brown, but pretty pink and overly stylized eyelash design. “If you don’t mind!”

“Uhhhh…. Sure…” Another doughnut was packed into his gullet after the unsure acceptance. Malloki was not quite sure about how to feel about a girly-eyeball following him around. Amyrillo grinned in delight. She clearly was a Malloki the Mad fan.

His fingers brushed the bottom of the bag, earning nothing but remnant powder for their adventure. “Welp! First snack done, I guess I’m gonna go… uh… Stay… safe?” He almost choked on the word. “Yea, whatever, I’m gone! Toodles!”

If he had a cape, it would have fluttered magnificently with his twirl. Instead, the only flutter was from his backpack as he tossed it onto his shoulders, and the bag of chips procured from the secondary bag of goodies. “Toodles,” she chimed after him. The word on her lips made him regret the asinine statement.



True to her word, the detective stayed back. In her place hovered that summoned eye. It glanced this way and that but stayed close to Malloki. It did not appear in the Eye for Power, so he had to assume the faint glow behind him was the eye’s summoner, and the one to his east was the remnants of the necro-trapper.

It was quickly fading - not that it was very bright in the first place. “Aww, he’s a one-hit-wonder too! Probably put all his chips on that one gamble. Too bad, it was a pretty strong first move!” He looked right into the eye of that… eye. It blinked.

Ew.

Moving on, Malloki could do little more than wander around the graveyard for a few minutes. He did not see any glowing neon sign showing him the path, no quest-tracker to point out the door to wherever he was going.

Eventually, he came to a full stop. “You sure this is the right place? I don’t see--” Both his eyes and the conjured eye turn to the ground as the soft earth of a freshly tilled grave shifted. “Oh hey! Door?”

A grizzled hand of rotten flesh and exposed bones speared through the ground to wrap around Malloki’s ankle. “Not a door. Gotcha. ROUND TWO! FIGHT!” Three seconds pass and nothing happens. The hand held fast but the ground had stopped moving. “Uh… Round… two?”

The sound of screaming hit his ears like a banshee wail, but not quite as hard as the burst of necrosis-turned-projectile that railroaded him through the gut. The simple shirt Dolloki had left for him was almost completely removed from existence as cotton turned to dust. His flesh withered, pulling taut against the minuscule abs beneath. More black spiderwebs painted his pale, scarred flesh.

But there was little actual pain to enjoy. He waited for a brief moment, but it was just numbness. The necrosis killed the nerves around the wound leaving nothing to be felt. “Are you KIDDING ME?”

And yet, there was another scream as a black-robed figure fell from a hidden perch upon one of the small crypts. “Damnit! Why do YOU get to feel it and I don’t? I WANNA FEEL IT!” The groan that followed bled into determination. “Fine! If you pansy players won’t play fair, we’re moving to Hard-Core mode!”

He held up a hand and began contemplating… “Maybe a spear? Nah, Pin the Tail is supposed to be for children’s parties! Ooh, how about some brass knuckles?” His fingers closed to a tight fist. “Ooh, I love a good game of Rock, Paper, Voodoo!”

Pulling his foot from the grasp of the zombie was not all that difficult - namely by taking the grasping hand with him and leaving a nub behind. As he rounded a dilapidated stone statue, the sight of the whimpering, wounded mess peered up at the Living Voodoo. Terror filled her eyes. “H-how? How did you find me?”

“Well I can tell you, it wasn’t for your power… Such a weak score…” Within his grasp and around the pale, scarred knuckles formed an ethereal tool. The brass knuckles had menacing spikes rising from the brow of each skull-capped knuckle. It had the nasty look of four deadly unicorn-men. “Let’s play a game… Rock paper scissors… You win, you don’t see that pretty little Game Over screen, mkay?”

“A g-game?”

“Yeeeaaa! A game! Ready? One. Two…” He rose and lowered his weaponized hand and sure enough, a trembling hand rose from the classic dark wizarding robes to match it. “Three!” CLANG!

The woman had hardly a chance to reveal her choice before Malloki used his Voodoo trump card. The heavy punch aimed for his own face caught the woman by surprise, but four geysers of blood spewed from her own to mirror the Voodoo man’s wounds. As Malloki’s knuckles retreated, he wobbled about as his head spun.

“Ooohohoh yea, that’s wha--” He stumbled over the fresh corpse created. His face smacked into the dirt for an added tingle of pleasure. He loved his new toy. No physical damage dealt, but all the pleasure! It was like a zero-calorie soda that didn’t taste like ass!

With haste, Malloki had to scramble back to his feet to ready a second blow. “C’mon! Get up! … Oh… guess its nap time! You stay here and sleep it off.”

Somewhere in the distance, Amyrillo was somewhere between laughter and surprise. That was not revealed in Dante’s Abyss. Her curiosity got the best of her. Through that floating eye she asked, “What was that?”

“Huh? Oh, ew, eye words… Uh… Something I picked up recently… I can summon game pieces, you know, like hiding an ace up your sleeve?”

“So you cheat?”

“PFFT… NO… I just play to win! Dolloki cheats!” He scoffed at the very NOTION that HE would cheat. No, Malloki was a fair and honorable gamer. “It’s just a level unlock! Everyone gets ‘em, you just have to play the game! I’m done talking about this, I’m gonna go grind…”

He would have wondered aimlessly for an hour or two more, but the detective had a better idea. “I bet you’d get more EXP if you went down to where all the bad guys are... I can tell you where the door is.”

Malloki narrowed his eye on the pink eyelashed-eyeball. “... Maybe looking up a strategy guide this ONCE won’t hurt…”
 

Malloki Tuwile

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As it turned out, Malloki had already passed the entrance into the catacombs below. It was one of the larger monolithic structures decorated with a wall of engraved names. The wellspring of darkness below had the man squinting as he descended the stairs. With luck, he made it down all of them without incident.

There was a sense of light within the darkness, however. This did nothing to illuminate the world, but he could pick up the candles of power dotting the area around him. Two gathered in one place. Four in another. A big bright one and several smaller lights at the cusp of his Eye for Power’s range. No doubt there were more.

“Watch it… There’s usually an alarm sigil near the bottom of the stairs.”

“Well,” his brow cocked. “That’s going to make this easy. But first!” His bag rustled as he pulled it off. Malloki dipped into the bundle of bags and bars of candy to find himself something tasty. Of course, his snack had to be chosen at random after fumbling for five minutes in the dark.

The sound of a sigh from the eye radiated down the empty hall. “You can’t see in the dark, can you?”

“Pfft, I don’t need to see them. I need THEM to see ME! I can win this game blindfolded if I wanted to. Besides, the ones that have even a chance are lit up like liars in gasoline-soaked pants! No problem!” With the reassuring remark, Malloki plopped his ass onto the bottom step and tore into his bag of… chips? Yea, salt and vinegar chips. Lucky draw for the man.

“So, what’s the plan?”

“Win.”

“I understand that, but… what’s your strategy?”

“Play the game.”

“But--”

“Hey, I’m trying to fuel up here! If I told you I was gonna just walk in there and let the noobs tire themselves out, would you shut up so I can eat?”

In the silence that followed, Malloki stuffed handful after handful of the chips into his maw. On the other side of the eye, Detective Opal Amyrillo was rubbing her eyes with a defeated smile. She could understand most people to their very core, but Malloki was a game she was unfamiliar with. She could speak his language, sure. She could seduce the mad man with a sway of her hips with no problem.

To understand his inner workings though, that was an enigma. His grasp on the world wavered in and out, and unlike most psychopathic men with a libido, he did not appear to be one of the vile rapist types - that man’s blush was far too earnest. The best Amyrillo could deduce, the man was a deck full of jokers.

No, better yet, Malloki was five 2’s in a hand of poker with deuces wild.

She mused on various game analogies until Malloki crumpled and tossed his trash onto the floor. “Ready to…” More ruffling sounds indicated he was ready to do nothing quite yet. “Quite the appetite, huh? I like that in a man.”

Malloki’s teeth had barely sunken into a Multerra Way bar before his face was on fire. “Shuddup,” was his best retort on hand.

After a few more snacks to really boost his reserves, the madman rose from his accumulated pile of trash and resaddled his backpack. “Well, cheerio!” With his battle-cry chirped, the man began walking down the long corridor.

These catacombs were not like those in videogames. It was relatively straight forward. Specifically very straight forward. After stepping on the forewarned trap, torches lit the hallway via magic. The Fwoof! of each pair followed shortly by another, and then another. Doors lined the long hallway, obviously housing a combination of the dead, undead, and necromantic victims.

The candles beyond those doors stirred. “Ahh. Swarm tactics! Good game, chaps!” Malloki chimed with glee as multiple doors creaked angrily at their opening.

Malloki held out his arms to embrace the coming storm. Many humanoids loomed out first, swift but wobbly steps bringing their undead forms towards the Living Voodoo. Behind this wall of fodder stepped out those responsible.

“Hi, guys! I’m here for the high score, so if you could just log out, that’d be greeeaat!”

A voice then radiated in response to the madman’s chant. The sound reverberated magically, chilling the air till Malloki could see his own breath. ”Kill the intruder. Bring me his body." Ooh, a voiceover, nice!

It was the next phrase that surprised Malloki - jarring the distorted world view into a singularity of sanity for a brief moment. ”I wish to speak with my old friend…. Dolloki.”
 

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Malloki was frozen for a moment in the confusion. Someone else… knew about Dolloki? This was an unusual turn of events. “Hehe, yay! Friends!”

“Did you miss the part where he wants you dead?” The eyeball-detective voice questioned. Why was it so gross to hear words from an eyeball? “What’s the plan?”

“Win?” Malloki echoed his previous words. He merely shrugged and began trudging - nay - skipping into battle. The single eye rolled in response, but the Living Voodoo was already walking into the swarm of undead and taking filthy nails to exposed flesh.

Zombies were resilient, however, and their scratches and bites reflected meant little. That’s fine! Don’t bother with the pawns, the knights and rooks are the real fun! The struggle through the crowd became a chore. Blood poured down his flesh as his body sought to quickly stitch himself up.

The sound of cackling grew. A sinister giggle at first, but mid-crowd it had become a howl of maddening euphoria. Why? Because Malloki could see blood soaking through the robes of the necromancers. The zombies were mindless puppets under the necromancer’s control. Thus… the necromancers were directly responsible… THUS;

“You fucked up, boys! Your puppets are on MY strings now, HEHE! Looky, looky! My score’s going up and you’re falling behind on your heals -- did you forget to bring a cleric? HAHA! HOHO! Suckers!” Several zombies groaned as they collapsed, their demise followed by one of the necromancers swiftly after.

At least these fellows were adamant. Where once six robed figures stood, the dropping of their ranks did not disway the rest. The swarm was thinning; thirty… twenty five… twenty two… nineteen… thirteen… Malloki trudged through puddles of his own blood, over the gore of the undead corpses, and was soon to breach the dwindling crowd.

The necromancers remaining, just two in number, slowly began backing away. Like the others had been, his chanting continued, dominating the undead and giving them strength. His brow knit with worry and even a hint of fear.

It was not Malloki that brought terror to this man’s heart, it was whatever was behind him. The necromancer glanced over his shoulder several times, worried about the distance between himself and the final door. The remaining thirteen zombies were his; he was the strongest among the grunts.

There came a switch of emotions. Fear was replaced by determination, courage bolstered power and the verbal spell was soon accompanied by hand gestures.

“Herk!” Malloki yelped as he was yanked back by a new wave of undead strength. Zombies whom had lost their necromancer rose, renewing the crowd’s numbers. Their individual strength and agility too seemed bolstered. However, even with Malloki pinned to the ground beneath a growing swarm, he still cackled.

“THIS BITCH HAD AN ANIME MOMENT!”

His gleeful shout was mingled with the crescendo of chanting from the necromancer. The words became difficult as pain crept into his voice. Every bite, every claw, every crushing stomp of feet, he felt everything done onto Malloki - every attack he forced the zombies to make.

And then there was nothing… Just calm. The zombies crumpled around the mad man. Barely able, he managed to lift himself up enough to see the necromancer standing there… dead on his feet. To any other, this last stand might have seemed heroic. To Malloki?

“Hah, you suck!” He cried in triumph!

The epic battle was given no thought. It was as trivial as a walk in the park, as effortless as could be. Malloki wobbled to his feet, but stumbled after just the first step. Oooh, the tendons are gone! Fair play, faaaair play! he mentally cooed to himself. Of course, he would never praise the necromancers out loud - not with their boss still listening.

Even as he crawled to his backpack to retrieve a snack, he could hear a low rumble.

”Good enough, I suppose… I will finish you off myself.”

A heavy rumble shook dust from the roof.
 

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Malloki tingled with excitement. The glowing arcane eye of the detective turned this way and that. Dust fell and deep rumbling radiated from deeper in the crypt. “Looks like this dungeon crawl is a short one! BBEG’s already coming out to play!”

“Be careful, Malloki. No one has met this thing and returned. We have no intel!” Detective Amyrillo stated through the eye. The voice through the eyeball still gave him the creeps! Regardless, it slowly began creeping ahead. “I’ll go look around, maybe I can see wh--”

“... See what?” Not that he would ever get an answer. The eye had vanished into vibrant sparks when a piece of stone rattled free from the roof and squashed it. “Well, I guess this co-op just turned into Solo!” Not that Malloki minded. He was used to playing solo, he did his best work alone. No one to thwart his world of imagination.

”Come, Malloki. Let us have a little chat about our… mutual benefactor.” The voice radiated once more.

What was Malloki to do? Tremble in fear? Quake in his boots? Piss himself and run? “On my way!” He chimed with a delighted childish chirp. With body slowly mending and a bag of snacks retrieved, he did not walk - but skipped his way over the corpses and down the hall. The rumbling persisted, even grew worse as he neared the end of the long, straight corridor.

The dubious display earned an odd sound. A deep rumble, unlike what quaked the stone corridor. No, this was a soul-crushing laughter. A chuckle at first, but then a deep belly-roar. ”Oh, Dolloki, my old friend! Where did you find THIS twisted little monster? Ahhh… Well… I may not enjoy the thrill of the hunt, but I do enjoy my meal served on a silver, smiling platter.”

Malloki’s hand placed upon the final door at the end of the way. He had glanced in each door he passed, looking for the voice, but only found shallow rooms with opened coffins. It had to be this last one! Of course the BBEG would be hidden behind a big, fancy door! Oooh, I bet he has multiple forms! Flowing robes! Long, abnormally colored hair, jutting in ungodly fashions! Thump.

He had given it a mighty shove… but it refused to yield. Instead, he had merely managed to shoulder-check the stone barricade. “Fuck! Hey! Door’s locked!”

“... Why do I even bother?…” The voice that radiated did not rumble. In fact, the rumbling of the crypt stopped all together. From beyond the stone door, Malloki could hear heavy steps approaching. Anyone else might have felt embarrassed in this moment. The frail little Malloki had been unable to move the door, but it swung open effortlessly to someone else.

What stood beyond the door was a nine-foot tall man of twisted, gray flesh. Long, greasy black hair cascaded from his brow, covering one eye yet leaving a rotting hole exposed. Lines of torn cadaver-flesh looked stitched together, as if the man were held to one piece only by the surgical thread alone.

“I had hoped this whole insanity thing was an act for the Abyss… Looks like you were actually playing smart by normal standards.” The deep, rumbling voice from the flesh-and-bones giant sounded distinctly odd. “Now that that detective can’t spy on us… come in. We have much to discuss.”

Blink, blink. Malloki’s wide eyes displayed his confusion. First, they were playing Pattycake… Now they were having a chat? “What gives, bucko? You promised a fight!”

“Just testing you.” That’s twice today! I hate tests! Malloki grimaced. The necromancer turned and made his way to an overstuffed armchair within a surprisingly well lit room. The crypt had electricity, oddly, and the main burial chamber had been remodeled to look more like a small studio apartment. Kitchen to one corner, another corner sectioned off with a door ajar into a bathroom… and books. Lots and lots of books.

The lumbering undead strode slowly over to the chair and took a seat. He had planned to hold a great ceremony over this, to make a show of the first meeting, but… “Theatrics would be wasted on you, so let me put it simple. Malloki Tuwile,” the man gestured at the mad man of voodoo. The hand then laid against his own sunken chest; “Zomboki Ernesh.”

“Woah! Your name is stupid!” Malloki did not bite back a laugh. “Zomboki! So lame! HAHA! Zomboki, your mother must have hated you!”

“Are you stupid, BOY? It’s the same naming rhythm as you! Think about it! Dolloki? Malloki? Zomboki? You seeing a rhythm here?”

“Uhhh…”

“Oh-Kay-Eye, three letters following a descriptor of who and what we are.” Malloki blinked… Zomboki heaved a heavy sigh. “Malediction - meaning basically to curse. Voodoo curse. Zombie, an undead creature of rot and hunger for flesh. Dol- ARE YOU EATING?”

“Uhhhhhh… No?” Malloki had spent Zomboki’s monologue ruffling through his bag for a pack of chocolate chip cookies. Even with one withdrawn from the package, nearly pressed against his lips, he denied the ridiculous notion that he would ruin some BBEG’s monologue with snack time. “Go on, I’m listening!”

Rotting hands rose to rub at sunken eyes. “Such insolence… Fine, have your snack.” Chomp! Postponing snack time was not even an option, but now he had permission! “Where was I? … Oh yes… I was one of Dolloki’s puppets before you. Not the first, and apparently not the last.”

“Yea, you said you want to see Daddoki, right?”

“D…” Hands rose to a defensive position. He did not even plan to touch that one. “Yes. You see, I made the mistake of breaking ties a long time ago… and I’ve been dwindling in power ever since. You see, I was created by… On second thought, you wouldn’t care…”

“I like you, you get me!” Malloki chirped with a broad, childlike grin of innocence. “So you wanna come crawling back to the Big Guy, ‘cause you’re a weak ass li’l bitch?”

“... Don’t push me…”

“That’s not a no! But I’m sorry to tell ya, that Dolly hasn’t said much since I’ve been in here! Usually I have to die to, you know, chat it up.” Malloki nodded.

“As did I. So, in this case, I’d like to arrange a little meeting - meaning you will have to die. To keep the plan simple enough for you to understand; I need to eat your heart, Malloki. It’ll kill us both, but then Dolloki won’t have much of a choice but to talk to me…”

“Fine, but I wanna try a bite too.”

Zomboki instantly regretted every choice in undeath that lead him to this very moment.
 

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The ritual was ready in ten minutes. Zomboki apparently needed very little to perform the diablerie. In fact, he had tried to explain that simply eating the heart would be enough, but of course Malloki had lost interest in favor of playing with a bobbing bird that dipped its beak into a small glass of blood-like substance. It was absolutely entrancing!

The tall, slender, undead man just put a kettle on for tea. Sure, he planned to feast on flesh… but he was no barbarian. A spot of chamomile tea would hopefully help the unsavory flavor of madness go down easier. Most flesh was palatable with the right tea, or so he had discovered.

With the beverage brewed and left to steepen, he brought forth a special glove. It had steel tipped fingers, but was otherwise a simple, thick elastic loosely resembling heavy grade surgical gloves. The primary goal was to make the task easier and a bit cleaner. “Alright, Tuwile, please join me on the table. Lay on your right side, left arm above your-- … Tuwile… TUWILE…”

Malloki was not listening. He was kneeled at the edge of a paper laden desk, staring with wide eyes at the bird. “Bloop! Hehe, drink up, birdy, you need your strength! Ahh, all finished? Nope, going back for more, aye? Thirsty bird!” The mad muttering was laced with twisted giggling. Had the man not been covered by his own blood and displaying the most malicious grin, it might have been almost endearing. “Thirsty bird!”

”MALLOKI!

“WHAAT?” Malloki groaned, rolling his head back ‘till his eyes met the sunken, visible orb of Zomboki. “Can’t you see I’m in a business meeting?”

“Please,” Zomboki continued, with all the calm in his voice that he could muster. “We must be quick, before your Detective friend becomes suspicious.”

“Fiiiiine!” With another, elongated groan, Malloki rose to his feet. “We’ll finish our discussion at a later time, Mr. Bird. I am most intrigued by your business strategy…” With a curt nod, he turned about on his heels and strode his way towards the table. Zomboki found himself deeply annoyed when Malloki assumed the position perfectly. He had heard the request, but chose to deny it.

Zomboki brought the glass of tea to the table first, then carefully cut away Malloki’s tattered clothing, exposing most of the thin man’s ribs through gaunt, scarred flesh. Why does this man look so… unsavory? Zomboki questioned himself. Normally, all flesh looked delicious in its own right. Malloki looked like tofu, just a brick of slimy, white, tasteless mass.

The civilized zombie heaved a sigh and moved away. He had to fetch a few more preparations. Tea would not be enough alone, he had to bring back a bit of… flavor. Spices, along with a fancy china plate, were brought to the table. He mixed a touch of chili, garlic and lime powder onto the plate, along with salt and pepper. His goal was to dip the heart bite by bite into the spice to overcome whatever horrid taste he would find.

“Are you ready to begin?”

Malloki rolled his eyes. “I’ve been laying here for an hour! C’mon, I wanna try a bite and you’re taking FOREVER!”

A little shake of his head, Zomboki placed the steel claws between the exposed ribs. A deep, steadying breath, he applied heavy force to pierce flesh and slip between the cage of bone. Blood gushed from Malloki, and oozed from Zomboki’s own ribs. Malloki’s was a rich red, while the undead man’s ichor was a thick, ugly brown. Both winced, though only Malloki followed it with a giggle.

Zomboki heaved a heavy breath and pushed further, curling his fingers to ‘swim’ through the internal mush. This was not the first time he had ritualistically pulled the heart from a creature. He knew to keep to the front of the ribs, to avoid puncturing the lung too early. Malloki’s ribs creaked as Zomboki slid up to his wrist into his still breathing body.

Each little motion brought a pained groan from Zomboki, and a whimsical laugh from the ever-so-tickled Malloki. “Oooh, harder ZomDaddy!”

“That is HIGHLY inappropriate,” Zomboki growled. Of course, the process meant he had to oblige. With each breath Malloki took, his chest tightened around Zomboki’s hand, forcing more blood from the stuffed wound. Each exhale, Zomboki forced his clawed hand further in. Instinctively, the undead man had syncronized breathing, though his was far more labored.

At some point, he had to envy Malloki… He was built to take punishment. To suffer happily…

The feel of rapid heart beats was a sign that the real journey was about to begin. Zomboki turned his hand, twisting wrist and all inside of Malloki to slowly grasp the pulsating organ within. His sunken eyes closed in concentration. In one, swift twist, the steel claws severed the arteries.

It no longer mattered about collateral damage. With a fierce grunt, Zomboki yanked his clutching fist back, prize in hand. Malloki’s eyes had widened. Every feeble breath came as a wheezed gasp, but his lung had been wrent by the yank and soon breathing became impossible. The gaping wound gushed blood and the thick muscle-fabric of torn lung.

Zomboki’s own lung had been ripped too, his ribcage nearly shattered like Malloki’s own. With wobbling legs, he had to focus on his zombie fortitude, the magical force that kept his decaying body alive. With trembling hand, he dipped the heart in the mix of spices before sinking his blackened teeth into the muscle.

He had been right. The heart tasted disgusting. It was bitter and acidic; tasted so much like pure malice incarnate. His own heart, even in undeath, had to beat. With the Voodoo active, and Malloki dying, Zomboki’s heart was slowing rapidly. His lung refused to work.

He had taken the time to make tea and bring spices, but in the end he realized he would have to wolf down the flesh as fast as he could muster. Each bite gushed rich, red ichor down his chin. Each bite felt as if he were going to go mad with the flavor, the tangible sadism in every fiber of this creature’s being.

The last bite was the hardest. Normally, Zomboki could eat entire bodies without so much as flinching, but there was something about this morsel that just did not want to be consumed; did not want to be a part of someone else.

”My sweet, darling Zomboki.”

Malloki had stopped breathing. Zomboki hung to unlife by a thread. The world slowly turned ethereal. A new figure appeared; a doll-like creature. Tall, slender, gaunt; button eyes and strings hanging from his joints. The unbound marionette in Zomboki’s own image… Dolloki.

”The sheep returns to the shepherd.”
 

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Zomboki's pain had subsided. In this moment, this blink of time spanning what could be eons, he felt that breath of otherworldly life that Dolloki offered. Along with this wonderous sensation, he could smell the flesh of Dolloki. It was old... it smelled divine in the sense that it was tasty, but absolute evil seasoned every artery running through his veins. "Yes..."

"I take it... you are not fairing so well without me. Are you, my lovely little corpse?"

"N-no, my Lord... I can feel the magic keeping me to this mortal coil fading. I can't summon undeath to my aid, these pathetic humans have failed to restore me. They believe I--"

"Believed, I did watch my lovely Malloki mince many of them..."

"Believed... yes. They believed I would turn each of them into an intelligent undead, like myself... but the lie was stretching thinner each year." Zomboki stood with straight back, but head bowed. Unlike Malloki, he showed respect to this unknown being. "I admit now that my actions in the past were rash. These last fifty years have taught me that... I had been blessed... not cursed."

The pale porcelain lips of Dolloki curled into a soft, delighted smile. "I missed this... Such reverence, such calm calamity you were capable of... Unlike my current... pet..." Button eyes shift towards the frozen corpse of Malloki. "But tell me, my child... what stops you from fleeing once more?"

"My Lord, in our first deal... I sacrificed a village in your name, so that I may live. This time, I sacrificed my own life to be here. If we do not strike a deal here and now, I will die by your puppet. This time, I sacrificed myself. Take the heart from my chest. Kill me should I step out of line. I... just want to live."

"Do you remember what path I set you upon?"

"Yes, my Lord..."

"What is it that I said to you? How much... do you remember?" The porcelain brow cocked, and the smirk grew with interest.

Zomboki knew that he was being tested. With a deep, unneeded breath, he bellowed his indoctrination; "I am one of five Vessels.

"One vessel to warp the hearts of men; that they may do the bidding of the Unseen Lord."

"One vessel to wage war; that all those who oppose know fear."

"One vessel to consume the non-believers; that in death, they go not to waste."

"One vessel to construct a temple; that we may bridge our realm and Yours."

"And one vessel to cross the bridge; that you not cross the veil alone."

Zomboki took another quivering breath, before answering Dolloki's original question. "I am that which consumes."

"How charming... you do remember." Zomboki hardly had time to blink before Dolloki was simply there, resting a cold, glass-like hand upon his rotting shoulder. "Oh, how I have missed you, my sweet Zomboki... but never did I doubt you. We all go through a... rebellious phase... but now you have an extra task..."




Malloki gasped as he lurched awake. His chest tingled, but upon a few heavy slaps upon his bare flesh, he felt no lasting pains or pleasures of his past death. "Hang on!" This was not right. "Where's Daddoki! Dang it, it was HIS weekend, and he bailed! I swear, split custody SUCKS!" In his spiteful moment, he grabbed the nearest object, namely the spice filled plate with his half-eaten heart, and lobbed it across the room.

Zomboki, heaved a sigh. The corpse was back in his chair, rubbing his brows. "Our Lord sends his regards, Tuwile..." He rumbled in a low, annoyed breath. "I dare say I occupied his attentions this time around. Though no doubt he has the prowess to meet us both, so.... maybe he just did not want to deal with your particular level of crazy?"

".... Ohmygosh, you guys talked about me! Sssstop, I'm gonna blush!"

"....." Zomboki could not even respond to this instant tsundere switch. "Malloki... We still need to finish the mission you came here on. I believe it will do us a great deal of good if you come out of this looking like a hero. Just... grab your corpse, and I shall take mine. Today we must begin playing a new game."
 

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The stone door of the crypt opened to the heavy boot of Zomboki. The undead man stomped through with a hint of frustration laden within every step. Malloki struggled with his own corpse, meaning he had to take one corpse over each arm as if he were no more than a common packmule. The very thought had his rotting lips downturned to a deep grimace.

"Oh deeeeteeeeectiiiiive!" Malloki called, waving to the entrance of the crypt. There was no floating eyeball. In fact, there was no sign of any movement at all. The little blip of power that the detective had was gone from Malloki's senses. "Huh... She poofed! Well that's not fair!"

"That is very fortunate.. Go into that far room on the r... left... and procure the steel collar and chain. We want to make it look as if you captured me." Zomboki gestured to the door on the left, rolling his good eye at the deception.

Of course, Malloki skipped towards the right side, taking the door Zomboki actually wanted. "Oh, found it!" Zomboki wondered why he was surprised when Malloki actually brought the correct item. "This is getting kinda kinky!"

"Please, stop... just... clasp it on my neck and pretend to lead me --" Click! Malloki wasted no time getting the cold metal band around Zomboki's neck, and then subsequently tug it along. A low, rumbling growl quaked the room.

Malloki hummed in delight. The tune was fairly enchanting, a few words even made it past his lips. Something about catching all of something or other, poking things, best friends... Typical oddities coming from the mad man.

It was not bad... at first. It was only when Zomboki realized the song was on repeat in Malloki's head that he started to regret his un-life choices. "Stop--"

"SILENCE prisoner!" Brow furrowed, Malloki had not expected quite such a firm voice from the man with so many screws loose. "Keep walking, the good townsfolk will see to you!"

Corpse-lips parted to speak, but quickly pursed as a particular scent hit his nostrils. I see, mused the undead puppet. The walls have eyes... and even he knows. Zomboki was actually impressed by his mad partner in crime. He was playing the game, despite having ignored most of the rules. They had only came to the edge of the graveyard, but already he could smell people just beyond the tall fence, hiding behind the bushes and awaiting Malloki's return.

The madman held out his arms, one bearing the chain clasped firmly to Zomboki's neck. "Citizens! Fear not, for I, the GREAT and POWERFUL Malloki, have brought evil to its knees! The immortal necromancer has been felled, his past corpse and living corpse I bring as trophy and prisoner!"

Well damn, that's good... Zomboki thought.

Oooh, damn I'm good! Malloki unwittingly confirmed within his own twisted head.

Out from behind one bush stepped the leather-clad detective. Again, Malloki's eyes dropped to cleavage exposed, quite obviously so, then rose to the meet her gaze. "Captain Armadillo! Lookie, I bringeth gifts of aged man-meat! Careful, he comes back kinda like I do!"

Detective Amyrillo smiled with delight. "Good boy! If you'll bring him along, we have a nice concrete box to put him in..." She did not even bother correcting Malloki. With a swift turn, she sauntered back down the cobbled path towards town. Malloki's gaze turned downwards.... and so did Zomboki.

"Hey, buddy, I called dibs on that peach!"

"You would not know what to do with it, you bumbling fool..." Zomboki retorted to Malloki's outburst.

"Sure I do! Save it for a mid-morning snack! Besides, everyone knows some healthy yams don't pair well with dried jerky!" Malloki chirped with the brightest of grins.

Zomboki's decayed maw dropped. Amyrillo laughed as she walked. The hiding spots of no less than six rubber-necking villagers were revealed as they cackled along. Zomboki bit back his words, biting his tongue quite literally till it oozed thick, miasmic blood.

Malloki dashed ahead, tugging the poor walking corpse along for the ride. His free arm flopped lazily around the detective's shoulders. "So, Lady Army-pillows, wha's gonna happen to the pris'ner? You guys gonna interrogate 'em? Maybe squeeze out some answers? Ooh, can I help? I'm soooo good at interrogating!"

"Maybe later. Tonight he will do his rotting in a cell while you regale the town of your exploits. The Grim Goblet tavern sounds like a wonderful place to tell the tale of Malloki and the Necromancers, don't you think? Drinks and dinner on me."

Zomboki's brows furrowed, his nose wrinkled in disgust. She can't really have an interest in THAT thing! He mentally chided. Maybe this so-called "detective" was nothing but rocks between the ears?

On the other hand, Malloki guffawed at her words, rolling his head to peer away in an embarassed show of... what? Modesty? "N'aww, staawwp! Yer gonna make me blush!"

"Maybe that's the goal. You look good covered in red." Amyrillo proclaimed, taking a step with a particularly pronounced sway so that her hip bumped Malloki's.

I think I'm going to be sick... Malloki was playing the game far to well. Zomboki could smell the awkward social anxiety boiling within Malloki, belying the confidence he managed to bring to the surface. He is far too good at this game.
 

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Zomboki breathed a deep sigh of relief as the detective lead him past a tall, tapered stone gate. The inner walls slanted towards the inner courtyard, and its peak was topped with black iron spikes, some twenty feet high. The courtyard was empty, with only a single stone building at its heart. "Oooh, this looks swanky, what bigshot lives here?" Malloki cooed with wide eyes. "All cozy in this big privacy fence! Must really hate those girlscouts trampling his daisies!"

Detective Amyrillo smiled, swiftly decoding the mad man's train of thought. "This is where our dear necromancer is going to live for a while. It's less a house, more like a hotel for people of importance. Don't worry though, your accommodations for the night are going to be far better, don't you worry!" With a wave of her hand towards the door, arcane runes appeared across the stone.

Granite grinding on granite sounded as a segment of wall slit out, then to the side. All that resided within was a set of stairs, with broad steps and shallow rise, descending down into the depths beneath the grim hamlet above. Malloki watched with wide eyes, but Zomboki seethed. Definitely not what I was planning for, he lamented. He had hoped for a standard jail cell, something he could more easily deal with. This? The cultists he had recruited from the village had no knowledge of this location.

"How long do you think you can keep me here?" Zomboki grumbled at the detective.

She turned her gaze over her shoulder to meet the chained man's eye. "That's not for me to decide, but I suspect you won't be getting out any time soon," she offered in a far more firm tone. Clearly, Zomboki was not included in her flirty nature. "Now come along, Malloki, let's show our guest to his bedroom, I'm sure he needs a good night's rest."

"Yoush!" Malloki nodded, lips puckered and brow furrowed in a childlike state of determination. "He's very sleepy from our battle, otherwise he'd prolly rip out my heart again and munch it. Of course, he didn't know I already won the game before he took a nap." Malloki nodded with a proud grin. "But he has life hacks, so he just starts a new game like I do. So prolly don' wanna play games with him too much, Detective Peachbottom, or he's gonna eventually win."

Amyrillo mused the thought for a while as they walked. She peered around the various cells and their steel doors. "Seems this might be a Lich situation. That's very valuable intel, Malloki."

"Nah, not a Lich, there was some kinda sick bass drop and drum music, and a biiiig spooky boss-voice, all like 'Rise, my pet, and slay the living!' and then he kinda just rose in a ghosty form from his corpse-corpse, and respawned like a total cheater!" Malloki explained with a firm nod. "I think he's gotta sugardeady pullin' the strings, so don' kill icky sticky, but ya gotta check those dialogue options! Get 'em to talk, y' know, the whole quicksave and punch Mr. Cloud District asshole!"

This time the good detective had trouble figuring out some of the points Malloki was making... the cloud district thing being one of the bigger questions. "I see. So you think he's part of some bigger picture then?"

"Yup! Also, there are a loooot of rooms down here! And a bunch of 'em have furry, scaly or other things. Why doncha let humans rent out down here?" Malloki asked in the most innocent of curious tones.

"Humans aren't as... dangerous..." Detective Amyrillo answered hesitantly.

Only with Malloki's question did Zomboki even notice that most of the scents down here were definitely non-human. Malloki was throwing him for a loop with his excellent lies - so close to the truth, and yet vague and distant enough with just enough falsehood that it sounded exactly like something someone might expect of him. It was an expert deception... But his mind was being pulled back on track. Non-human containment seemed to be the theme of this place. The putrid smell of feces and rotting food, the soft, disheartened groans of long-captive prisoners...

"Malloki..."

"Quiet, necromancer. Your luxury hotel awaits." Poor timing. Zomboki clinched his jaw as the detective activated another unseen sigil, opening the steel door to a small, filthy room. "In you go. Dinner is in two days, watering is tomorrow."

"Hope you RSVP'd the fish dinner! I hear its divine!"

"Malloki, you can't leave me here!"

Slam. Malloki yanked the chain hard, nearly lobbing Zomboki into the cell. Shrrrcrunch! The door ground closed, leaving the undead man in near total darkness. There was no light in the cell, the smells of dispare and filth filled his sensitive nostrils. Nothing here smelled edible to even him. There were no hinges to the door, no windows to the exterior, the grates in the wall were too small to even fit his pinky through. Even if he could not an entire grate out, his skull itself was too big to squeeze through the three-inch tall wall-to-wall slit.

"Malloki!"

"Toodles dead doodles! I gotta date, can't be late! Won't be back till after eight!" Malloki sang as he leaned into the detective. She hummed in response, glossy, scarred lips curling into a wide grin. She wrapped an arm around his waist and together, they left the bunker. Zomboki was left alone in the gut-wrenching ambiance of lost hope and non-human refuse.

I hope you know what you're doing, Malloki... You aren't human either...
 

Malloki Tuwile

The Mad
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“And with the corridor’s new carpet of corpses successfully installed, I took my renovations to the main chamber! With a big kick, I stormed into stink-brain’s base and struck a pose!” Malloki, standing atop an old oaken table, thrust his fists to his hip and puffed his chest. His peacocking had the bar-dwellers gawking with wide eyes and broad grins.

”With my totally manly voice, I called out; ‘Stop, evil-doer! Your reign of terror is OVER!’ And he was totally like; ‘Over my dead body!” and I was all; ‘Bet!’ And we killed each other, I just got up faster!” Malloki soaked in the attention.

The hoots and hollers of drunken men and awestruck women were music to his ears. A man could get used to this! He even praised himself. He could hear the word monster on grinning lips, and the phrase unstoppable force tossed here and there.

“Come on down, Malloki. They can let you rest for a few minutes to eat. The cook made a plate special for you, after all.” The praise was grand, but this?

“Yes ma’am!” The mad-man chimed. With a lenguid drop from the table, he wheeled around to flop his backside into a chair offered by the effervescent Opal Amyrillo. The mad man’s manic eyes devoured the silver platter she held to spy all the prime cuts of meat, the slabs of sweet bread and cakes, as well as the aged cheeses, fresh fruits and slew of other goodies. Nothing quite compared to the way she bent over the table, right in front of him, to place said platter.

She gave him an almost sultry look, one that many patrons near Malloki caught sight of. A universal “oooooh!” ran through the crowd. New whispers rose. Malloki and Opal, they said. A big word was spelled out and there was talk of a tree…

This was all so fast, Malloki’s heart raced! “Can’t wait to sink my teeth in! Food looks good too!” Someone, without missing a beat, smacked his shoulder at the zinger. There was no effort made to figure out who, the crowd had packed into the room tighter than a tin of sardines.

Detective Amyrillo’s smiling lips parted in playful surprise. “I do believe you best behave, Malloki. Drunk and disorderly is punishable by a night behind bars. Don’t make me use the handcuffs.”

“Funny, I was thinking the same thing.” With a wicked little smirk of accomplishment, he snagged a grape and tossed it into his mouth. It was, in Malloki’s mind, a suave punctuation to finish off the innuendo.

With a roll of her eyes, she turned to move away. Clearly she lost the battle of wits and planned to let Malloki revel in his victory - but he had other plans. His slender, scarred hand captured her wrist, keeping her from vanishing into the sweaty crowd. “Say… I’m not exactly hungry. How about you and I take a walk?”

Plush lips lose their upwards curl. The detective’s brow knitted into a furrow as she tried to comprehend this absurdity. “I… uh… Sure?” Rare was it that Malloki spoke coherently, but it was not just his choice of sensible words, but the change in his voice.

His usual high-energy, pich-switching voice was so mainstay that everyone assumed it was just… well… how he was. Just now, he had spoken in a smooth and silken tone. Deeper than she expected of him, but not so deep it sounded fake - and yet it did sound entirely false. Amyrillo wasn’t the only to notice, a few nearby onlookers had been stricken quiet.

Malloki rose from his chair and slit it to the table. Without releasing the detective’s wrist, he turned just a bit to address his fellow bar patrons. “Thank you all for your support, I had a wonderful evening in Grimdale--”

“Grimlet,” Amyrillo chimed in.

“Grimlet! The good lady and I have business to attend to in regards to the captive. It is high priority, and need-to-know only. I will see any who attempt to follow us this evening as a potential ally to the ne’er do-well, and thus a threat to myself and my work here.”

The firmness, the seriousness, and the sensibility of the words stunned everyone. The bar had never been this silent. A graveyard would not have been this silent. “Help yourself to this wonderful platter, and don’t forget to tip. We’ve created quite the mess tonight, after all. Enjoy your evening.”

As a final adieu, Malloki bowed his head and started a slow, deliberate walk towards the entrance. Amyrillo followed, not that she had much of a choice with the grasp on her wrist. The crowd parted for Malloki, with drunken, awed patrons cramming together. Most wanted to be in the presence of the mad man, but few actually dared to touch him.

The door creaked closed behind them. Malloki paused on the wooden porch to take a deep breath of the cool night air. “So…” He heaved a sigh and turned a wicked side eye and grin towards the stunned detective. “My place or yours?”
 

Malloki Tuwile

The Mad
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Not many citizens of the happy town knew about the underground prison. They did not know of the inhospitable world just beneath their feet. Not that Zomboki believed they would care. Humans were all alike. They all believed that they should inherit the worlds, and rule all that walk its surface. The grizzled necromancer snarled.

It was utter darkness within these four walls, and even the narrow slit that peered out into the hall let very little through. It was enough that the air-breathers wouldn’t suffocate, but he doubted that the deaths of these prisoners would bother the detective much, or any of Grimlet’s law enforcement for that matter.

“Malloki…” He grumbled, voice grating against the silence like nails on a chalkboard. It stirred up the moans and groans of despair in cells nearby. “You better have a damn good plan…”

His faith was not that high in Malloki. Dolloki believed too strongly in him, that this deranged man could serve in any capacity. For now, the undead man sat in his corner, elbows propped upon knees, and thought on his situation.

He had only just regained immortality… but at the cost of freedom. If the key to my freedom is Malloki… then I am screwed.








The early hours had arrived. The good detective lay swaddled in a thick comforter, hair tousled and scarred lips slightly parted in a deep slumber. Malloki sat at the edge of the bed, elbows propped on his knees and back stooped low. Between his fingers rested a slowly smoldering cigarette.

It had taken only minutes for the boxom woman to drift off, but sleep eluded Malloki. His normally quite addled mind was focused and unusually clear. He had to think, he had to plan. Things like this were not his usual forte, but the game had become far more difficult.

He turned his gaze back over his shoulder, watching the sleeping Amyrillo. He had seen a lot more of her in the hours leading to the present - more than he had originally planned. Of course, he had not quite planned much of any of this. Everything up to this point had been spontaneous. The game was played blind; only now did he have a grasp of the plot.

Zomboki was locked in a magical cell, far beyond the reach of the mad man. This woman was the key to getting in. Somehow, Malloki thought, I have to trick this woman into releasing Zomboki.

With a muted groan, Malloki rose from the bed and left the room. He did not even care enough to close the door in his wake. Down the stairs he went, bothering little with silencing his steps. He did not consider stealth, if only to give him more time while the detective slept. It was only when he had arrived in the kitchen did he think to keep quiet.

“Whatever,” he bustled at himself and threw the fridge open. Empty… “I’ve been gone like… two days… Can we please get some fuck’n SNACKS in here?” He hissed as the door closed. When opened again, it was filled with various delightfully colorful, heavily processed snacks. He snagged a few cups of chocolate pudding.

He had only tore open the first before it hit the floor - when a familiar, sultry voice whispered; “Aww, wasn’t I sweet enough?”

The struggle to maintain a human conversation brought tension to his jaw. “Yes… and while the evening was wonderful, I have a lot on my mind.” How can people talk like this? It’s the most BORING dialogue ever!

The detective sauntered closer, making sure every asset was on full display as she bent low to retrieve Malloki’s dropped pudding. “You don’t have to force yourself to be normal, Malloki. We both know this is hurting you. Speak normally, after last night I don’t think talking will be enough to scare me away.” She cooed at him, and a smile formed as she saw the look of questioning appear across his cocked brows. “You are into some weird stuff, Mal.”

To that, he simply shrugged. “Wouldn’t know, the game felt pretty standard for Multiplayer.” There was almost a sigh of relief, the way his voice jumped in pitch, the familiarity of the game returning. “Anyhoozles. We can start a new save later, I just needed a good ol’ snack to recharge. Help yerself, the kitchen’ll make any kinda food ya like!”

Now it was Amyrillo’s turn to cock a brow, though hers was more out of amusement. “No thank you, Mal dear. To the snack that is - we’ll revisit the new game idea later.” The dented, messy pudding cup was tossed into the trash can. “Tell me whats on your mind, maybe I can help. After all, you helped me out with that necromancer ordeal, I can at least let you… hm-hm… unload…”

This time, the innuendo seemed to go right over his head. Malloki was switching gears, preparing a plan he had not planned and hoped that plan went according to plan. “About that necro-douche, ya know that prison prolly won’t keep ‘em right? If he dies, he could prolly just respawn elsewhere.”

“Anti-teleportation enchantments are--”

“Ain’t teleportin’ if a new body just POOF and appears somewhere else. Hell, tha’s what I do, I just usually choose to reappear next to my old body. Lets me finish whatever quest I was on, y’know?” It felt almost natural to keep close to the truth, to let lies come in small dashes. Less to remember. “Meaning, if ya don’t keep him stocked on Phoenix Downs, yer gonna end up with an aggro’d miniboss on expert difficulty.”
Amyrillo had been taking in every word, translating and extrapolating. “I see… And you did bring one of his old bodies, so you do have first hand experience. Why didn’t he appear somewhere else instead of next to you? If he knew he couldn’t win, it seems like--”

“Did ya think he knew I was gonna spring back up that quick? He came first in that race, but as ya found out, its better to come second sometimes.” Keep the rouse, keep the rouse…

“So…” Amyrillo pondered. “How do we contain him?”

“Ya can’t. I’m thinkin’ this is gonna end up being a chain quest. Rescue the town turn to an escort mission, ya know? Gotta take Big Ugly to the source of my power and burn ‘em up. Like that old ring that took sixteen hours to get rid of.”

The mention of a ring confused Amyrillo. “I… Two questions; what IS the source of your power? And… how do I know I can trust you?”

“Ya just shrank down to the size of a newborn kitten and bumped naughties in my bed - and then spread cheeks to pick up the pudding and bouncing bazongas in my face while I’m trying to focus and save yer town…” Malloki explained, deadpan face with eyes looking her over to prove his point.

The scarred warrior woman glanced down to follow his gaze. “You make some valid points… but still. One night fling…”

“Plus I was gonna offer to party up on the quest to my source of my power. The place where I’ll be at my most vulnerable.” Malloki had to resist the urge to laugh, to roll his eyes and yell April Fools…

It was quiet for a long while in the kitchen. “Does this place have a way to hold him?”

“The house provides whatever tools I need to play the game.”

Amarillo stood straight, chest pronounced in a display of certainty… though Malloki caught himself glancing down at other displays. “Alright… I’ll tell the chief and--”

“No. Trust me, ya don’t want all the NPC’s ta know about this particular quest. Chief won’t agree, he’ll boast about the power of his men and the strength of the dungeon, yada yada monologue with no skip button.” Malloki propped on the bar, lowering his height to stare eye to eye with the detective. “We will be safe once he is trapped in here… I just hope we can think of a way ta get ‘em here before he escapes…”
 
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