She falls down for the seventh time. Lucky number seven.

 

Her white-magic is starting to run out. Barely a trickle of it escapes her body anymore, her spiritual energies are drained dry. There’s nothing left at the bottom of the well of her soul apart from a harrowed, furious scream that doesn’t even leave her bleeding lungs anymore. Her body twitches, barely able to sustain itself. Her white robe is almost entirely red at this point, covered in blood from her constantly resealed wounds.

 

I don’t feel good about hurting her. But boy, did I ever have fun fighting her. It’s nice to fight someone who really means it. This was just as satisfying as fighting the hero, even if she never really stood a chance. Thanks priestess! You really are my favorite.

 

Looking down at the human creature that is restoring its body with the last drops of healing magic in its core, I nod to her once and then, walk past her. This was a good time. But -

 

“We’re done here,” says the slime, finishing my thought for me. “Thanks for being my friend!” she waves down behind us.

 

  My body lurches forward as I try to walk away, but my leg doesn’t move as I want it to. My spine cracks as my skull shoots around further than it should, as my eyes look down at the hand that is clutching my ankle. The priestess, drained empty of magic, latching on my leg to stop me from climbing any higher. I really wish she wouldn’t.

 

  “It’s over,” I tell her, not even sure if she can understand a word I’m saying. Probably not. Skeletons, you know? Yeah, you know. She doesn’t let go, determined to hold on to me. It’s a little flattering actually. My bony cheeks are growing flush and I can’t help but hold my face. It’s so embarrassing! She’s holding on to me so tightly! Oh priestess! I swoon, falling down with theatrical flair to kneel in front of the broken healer. The slime mimicking me and copying my every movement and noise. She sees what I see. She does what I do.

 

  But it wouldn’t be appropriate. Priestesses of her order are supposed to be chaste. It could never work out between us. She’s just too good for me. After all, I am, as my favorite dungeon-master calls me, a freaky-degenerate. If it wasn’t true, they wouldn’t say it to me. So I won’t burden someone as nice as you with my disgusting feelings, priestess.

 

“We can be friends again tomorrow,” I console her, pulling her weak hand off of my leg and then getting back up to keep walking. The thought makes me happy. I hope she wants to be my friend again.

 

  Though, I suppose, my concept of friendship is a little confused. Do friends kill each other? I like to think so. Though honestly, I think our friendship would be a lot more fun if she and I just escaped together. I wish I had somebody to escape the dungeon with. Somebody who isn’t made out of goo.

 

My body lurches forward again and I sigh, not even needing to turn around to know that she has grabbed me again. That her hand isn’t holding my boot this time, but the bottom of my cape.

 

“I’m not going to let you go,” bubbles the slime.

 

Bubbles the slime?

 

  I look at the slime, who is drooped down on the stones behind us, her body stretched out of my back as she mimics the priestess, laying next to her. A goopy hand holds the left side of my cape, while a real hand holds the right side of my cape. Four eyes stare up my way. Two of them can see what I see. Being a slime must be nice, they can just make friends with everybody. As far as they see the world at least. I don’t think she has a single care in her entire life. Ah… I’m so jealous. Was I ever a slime? I don’t really remember. I bet it was a nice life though. The best of them all.

 

“I’m not going to let you go,” she hisses from her clenched teeth.

 

I tilt my head, watching the priestess curiously.

 

  “You need to stop. You can’t bring it to the surface!” yells a voice I can’t understand and the slime at the same time, both of them looking up my way. One with a much more serious expression than the other. I rub my head, looking at the slime. Is it a problem if I bring her to the surface? I don’t see the harm in it really.

 

Reaching down, I grab both of the hands holding my cape, feeling rather embarrassed and giggling excitedly as I feel the fingers beneath my own. I’ve never had two people who wanted to hold my hand before, at least during a single life.

 

“I just want to leave the dungeon.”

 

“You can’t!”

 

“You can’t stop me,” I let go of both hands and pull my cape free before she can grab it or anything else that is dangling off of my body. Especially out here in public. I fidget as I walk, I hope nobody saw. It would be very inappropriate for her public image.

 

“So many people had to die already!”

 

  “The dying hasn’t even started yet,” I tell her as I walk away, the tether of goop connecting us breaking free. The slime sloshes after me, thinking only for a moment if she’d rather be friends with the priestess or with me. I feel like she’s made the right choice, personally. I admire her growing restraint in controlling her uh… instinctual desires.

 

I suppose I preach a lot of self-discipline, maybe it’s getting to her after al-

 

“CRUNCH!” yells a wet voice from behind me and I turn around to look at the sight I leave in my wake, at the red bundle of clothes, heaped together, the core of it leaking out red-water into the world.

 

The slime, excited and happy, sloshes after me and pulls herself back into my armor.

 

“What did you do…?” I ask her.

 

“Crunch!” she says giddily, as we both look at the bloody sunflower laying behind me.

 

Sorry priestess. Turning back forward, I walk the rest of the spiral path. I hope we can be friends again tomorrow.

 

 

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