Jimmy couldn’t think straight. The world no longer made sense.

Back in Valrere, it was all so easy, but this…this is fucking madness!

Timmy had passed out from the pain, pain Jimmy should have been the one to bear if he wasn’t such a useless coward.

At first, Jimmy thought the demoness was muttering curses, but now, he realized she was simply distracted, completely despondent over some unseen trauma. That was all right and good, it gave him enough time to regain his wits and patch Timmy up.

Valrere was notorious for its lack of healing potions. Best Jimmy could do was wrap a tourniquet around the wrist on Timmy’s broken arm to stem the flow of blood to his missing digit. His brother screamed bloody murder while Jimmy choked back tears, biting his tongue so hard he was leaking a good bit of blood himself.

He wasn’t sure if it was a blessing, but his brother’s screaming stopped midway through. His poor, brave brother had passed out from the pain.

I’m so fucking worthless. I talked a big game, but when push came to shove, I froze. Never again.

His little brother never froze. Not only did Timmy ruthlessly attack the demoness, he even stared down the Demon Lord, not giving that bastard the satisfaction of a peep even as the monster snapped his arm like a twig. At least, he didn’t utter a peep until his finger got ripped off.

Jimmy swallowed hard. That imagery would likely haunt him for the rest of his life.

That was really fucked up.

At least the demoness’ hostage was no longer bound, not that Jimmy had anything to do with it. That was all well and good, at least until the hostage kept trying to goad the demoness into attack mode.

That little shit must have wanted to pull her aggro over to the two of them long enough for that little shit to hop to safety, not that he would make it far on one leg.

All that reasoning made sense. It was understandable, well except for the part where the Demon Lord ran off like a puppy dog. That was…uh…unusual.

However, he could accept it.

What he could not accept was why he was now stumbling back through the dark cavern, his adrenaline spiked to peak output all over again.

Frantically, he fumbled his way through the pitch-black corridor, hunched over, and feeling his way along the wall with his shoulder. Both his hands were tied back, clamped tight to the legs of his little brother.

That guy was still passed out. All Jimmy could do was carry him piggyback style, trying to escape the monstrous happenings behind him.

It turned out that the little shithead, that 'hostage', he was the worst of the bunch!

Squeak, Squeak, Squeak. Hop, hop, hop.

In spite of Jimmy’s reasoning, it turned out the hostage wasn’t trying to get away, he was trying to cheer up the demoness! Her fits of maniacal laughter echoed behind them, and Jimmy picked up the pace. That demoness was loving every minute of the chase.

His pursers happily bantered back and forth, their voices rang through the darkness.

  ‘Pick up your feet! Come on, fatty!’
  ‘I can’t. My feet don’t work, you silly little savage.’
  ‘They do, too! They’re top of the line! Come on, they’re getting away!’
  ‘Left, left, left! You’re gonna run into a wall! Hahaha’

Somehow, the demoness could see through the darkness, but Jimmy was faster.

He could just picture that shit-head, that fake hostage, sucking on a bloodied rag as struggled to push the demoness’ wheelchair down the corridor, hopping behind like some kind of giddy maniac.

That part wasn’t scary.

That centipede of a tail was what convinced Jimmy to get the fuck out of there. After lugging that limp demon onto the red-stained wheelchair, the hostage asked three simple words that terrified the shit out of Jimmy.

‘You horny, Eta?’

She didn’t answer, but that tail did all the talking for her. In response to his question, it danced back and forth, a delightfully hungry carapace. Yeah, her tail had teeth. The tip of it salivated like a hungry Xenomorph, and Jimmy snatched up his brother and got the fuck out of there.

That crazy bitch, her dancing Xenomorphic centipede, and that giddy hostage had plans, sexual plans. Jimmy never considered losing his anal virginity, but if he did, it certainly wouldn’t involve getting penetrated by a hungry centipede.

Gerbils, possibly, but centipedes...that was where he drew the line.

No wonder that shithead hostage was hopping funny. He wasn’t a snack. He was the sub in some serious S&M.

Those thoughts terrified Jimmy even more than the Demon Lord Voorhees. At this point, he’d happily get ripped to shreds by that guy versus the alternative to his rear.

The wheels squeaked, her giddy sub hopped, and Jimmy ran.

He ran out of the darkness, arriving back at the y-intersection he’d been so conflicted about earlier. Except, this time, the choice was made for him.

Their previous tunnel was collapsed. Unless they could dig through hundreds of tons of dirt before that crazy couple appeared, he’d have to take the route lit by vines, the one he’d already decided against.

Stuck between a rock, a sensitive place, and another unknown tunnel, for a brief moment, he considered killing his brother, then himself.

Quickly snapping himself out of that delusion, he took the unknown tunnel and prayed to every god he could think of that no more unfathomable, Lovecraftian horrors awaited him at the end.

With the aid of the glowing vines, Jimmy called upon every ounce of his previously OP stats and bound down the tunnel. The squeaky wheels, stunted hops, and maniacal laughter faded into the distance.

All he could hear were his own powerful strides echoing off the walls. His pounding feet cracked the floor with every step, shattering its hard shell as he sprinted on through.

He ran and ran and ran, both the lights and the tunnel seemed to go on forever.

However, he knew he was gaining ground, no matter how it seemed. A chattering echoed in the distance. It stopped for a moment, followed by a loud squelch and then more chattering.

Jimmy swallowed hard and slowed his pace. He was surely far enough ahead of the insane couple to ease into the next predicament.

Far down the way, another cavern appeared, this time straight ahead instead of buried around a corner.

A dark figure hunched against the wall. It wasn’t the hulking body of the Demon Lord but something else. He was still too far away to make it out, and for a brief second, he considered turning around.

No, better a mystery than death by S&M.

Jimmy trudged forward, slowing down to a fraction of his previous pace. Worst case, he could drop his brother to fight whoever that hunched figure was. Hopefully, there weren’t more of them.

Chatter, chatter, chatter…Squelch!…chatter, chatter, chatter.

The sounds got louder and Jimmy slowly drew closer, close enough for the dark figure to become apparent.

What he saw…

Once again, logic failed him.

A fat, anthropomorphic lizard worked the pedal of an old treadle sewing machine. Pinned to the walls all around him, hides of flesh dried.

Tense and at the ready, Jimmy entered the cave. The chattering stopped and the lizard turned around. He gave a magnanimous grin and waved them inside with a razor-sharp claw.

Jimmy slowly shook his head, eying the meaty claw. His grip loosened on his brother’s leg, while he and the fat lizard faced down.

Now, this is an opponent I can take. His level is still ‘??’ but I’m sure I can take that fat bastard, just look at him! I’ve really had enough of this bullshit! Just get me the fuck out of here! I just want to go home!

They stood there in a Mexican stand-off. Actually, counting the insane couple, it was a three-way Mexican stand-off. The good, the bad, and the horny.

Make my day.

Slowly, the fat lizard rose to his feet, arms outstretched as though he didn’t mean any harm.

Yeah right, I see those claws.

The lizard took a few steps towards Jimmy, feigning surrender.

His grip on his brother loosened further.

The lizard took a few more steps.

And Jimmy’s grip on his brother…Oh shit! I dropped him!

Startled, the lizard lunged forward in a seeming attempt to catch little Timmy.

As the lizard did that, Jimmy was finally afforded a clear view of what the lizard was actually sewing. Intertwined in the threads, a half-finished cock and balls hung there.

That was Jimmy’s trigger.

With a wave of his arm, he unsheathed the Valreaper’s sword and struck down at the lunging lizard. A thin slice appeared on its back.

Now he had its attention.

The pot bellied bastard scratched at the wound with a 'tss'.

This time, the lizard ignored Timmy and lunged straight for Jimmy. Valreaper stabbed forward, but the lizard raised its meaty claw to meat it.

Sploosh!

Valreaper penetrated straight through the lizard’s claw, spraying the creature’s face with blood. And through that blood, the lizard smiled victoriously.

It didn’t try to dislodge its claw; instead, it slid the wound further down the blade, all the way down to the base. The claw closed in around Jimmy’s hand as the creature grasp the hilt. A quick tug and the sword was ripped away, still lodged in the lizard.

Jimmy stood there stammering, but the pot-bellied bastard ignored him, dislodging the blade and tossing it to a distant corner.

Once again, it outstretched its arms in feigned surrender. A deep, gravelly voice emanated from its maw and it said, “Oh dear, I did hope you would be reasonable.”

Behind him, he heard the oppressive squeak of a wheelchair and the stunted hops that followed.

Jimmy’s knees gave out and he slumped to the floor.