The creature was double my height.
There’s no other way to describe it except to say that it had a bodybuilder’s physique in a humanoid form, but with webbed wings and the head of a pterodactyl. Its spotted green and brown skin rippled with veiny musculature.
As I stared at it wide-eyed, an info box flashed above.
Pukeodactyl. Level 5.
I glanced at the ISSN feed in my HUD. Apparently, my boss fight was being live-streamed to gazillions of eyes.
Unmute.
“Oh, buddy, here we go!” Blink exclaimed with glee. “Looks like our human warrior, Sam, has finally met his match—his first boss fight!”
“You know, I gotta say… I’m gonna miss having the little bugger around,” Gill said with a somber face. “Ah, who the hell am I kidding? Let’s watch him die!”
Mute.
I could imagine the betting dens going crazy. Shifty-eyed alien bookies, snatching handfuls of credits from eager bettors who couldn’t wait to see me get crushed by this thing.
The Pukeodactyl bounced back and forth on his feet like a boxer waiting for the starting bell. His health bar appeared in the top of my HUD. It was a long, green line with no specific HP numbers. I didn’t know how many hits it would take to kill the thing. I just knew it was time to get down—
SHIIING!
I snatched my pizza cutters, raising them into a fighting stance. They whizzed to life.
“Alright, Crust-Fucker! Let’s see what you got!”
The Pukeodactyl flapped its wings three times, opened its mouth, and emitted a terrifying shriek.
BRAAAACK!
A flaming wave of projectile vomit launched right at me.
“Oh shit!”
I dove out of the way.
Fortunately, I easily cleared the attack with the enhanced hopping capabilities of my armor. I landed off to his left and glanced at the ISSN feed. Blink and Gill were both reacting with shocked faces.
ME: Whoa! Yeah, that’s right, your boy ain’t gonna be that easy to take out.
ERNI: I suggest you focus less on your reputation and more on your survival.
ME: Yeah, yeah, I hear ya.
The Pukeodactyl flapped its wings, flying in my direction. It landed with thunderous force, cracking the sidewalk below. The shockwave knocked me off my feet. On my back, it prepared its second attack, flapping its wings three times and opening its mouth with another shriek.
BRAAAACK!
It fired another round of flaming puke. This time it clipped my armor shoulder pad, singing the edge of the metal. I could feel the blazing heat.
ME: Damn, that’s hot!
ERNI: Indeed. I suggest you avoid taking a direct hit. That could prove catastrophic.
ME: And, fuuuuck… it stinks! What the hell did that thing eat?!”
I looked at the puke on the sidewalk. As the flames rescinded, I saw bile-streaked chunks of undigested flesh, rodent carcasses, clumps of hair, and some curdled brown stuff that I didn’t want to know about.
“Gross!”
The steaming pile smelled like frostbitten feet that had been simmering in a pot of diarrhea.
The Pukeodactyl started to flap its wings again. By now, I had already identified its pre-strike pattern: flapping its wings three times. As any seasoned gamer would tell you… study your enemy, find the patterns, spot the weakness, and look for an opportunity to strike.
I thought Toxic Fart Grenade, and one appeared in my hand. I pulled the pin and lobbed it at the creature.
KA-BOOM!
It collided against the monster’s massive pecs, exploding into a plume of green gas.
AAAACK!
The creature squawked, falling onto its back.
Again, the ground cracked from impact.
The creature still had three-quarters of its health bar remaining..
If it bleeds… I nodded, remembering a quote from one of my favorite movies.
I leaped through the air, arcing downward toward the fallen creature, pizza cutters thrusting forward. The monster was faster, flapping its wings and shuffling out of my landing path. My pizza cutters struck the ground. The metal blades whirred, spinning up sparks and bits of concrete as it carved two deep grooves into the ground.
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“Crap!”
The monster stumbled back to its feet—or claws, or whatever the hell those things were.
ARR, ARR, ARR!
It taunted, waving a spindly, bat-like finger in my direction, shaking its head.
“Why, you mother—“
BRAAAACK!
This time, it unleashed a sustained rope of fire right in my direction without its pre-strike, flap sequence. I was caught off guard, but managed to duck in time. I tumbled out of the way as it aimed the fire spray down to where I was crouching.
“Clever bastard,” I said, rolling back to my feet. “You broke pattern.”
ARR, ARR, ARR, ARR!
The creature clutched its stomach and laughed haughtily.
I used the opening, leaping with such speed that it wasn’t prepared. I landed two diagonal slashes across its torso. Orange blood sprayed as the creature wailed in pain. Its health bar was half green and half red now.
“Who’s laughing now, beak breath?!”
The Pukeodactyl hissed, small poofs of flame flaring from its nostrils.
“That’s it. Come on, big boy!” I said as we circled one another.
It flapped its wings three times. I leaped out of the way. This time, the creature flew into the air and smacked me with one of its wings.
THWACK! FWUMP!
I landed face-first on the concrete.
“Ohhhh shit.”
I spit out blood and was pretty sure my nose was broken. I struggled to get back to my feet, just as the creature dashed forward, closthelining me.
CRACK!
I hit the pavement again, choking and gurgling, clutching my neck.
Warning: You Are Hurt. Seek Cover Immediately!
My vision flashed red. My heartbeat faded up. I could hear the creature mocking me in the distance.
ARR, ARR, ARR!
I rolled over onto my knees as the creature lined me up for another attack.
I grabbed my pizza cutters, heaving for air.
I had underestimated the creature. I had been playing checkers, and he was playing chess. But what he didn’t know… was I was a badass at chess, too.
He opened his mouth again and unleashed another blast of fire. I raised the pizza cutters in an X pattern in front of me. The auto shields flared to life, repelling his flames directly back at him. The fire struck him right in the face, causing him to cease his attack and squeal at an unearthly pitch. His health bar was flashing red now.
New Trophy! Counterpuncher.
Reward: +10,000 Points!
The Pukeodactyl shook its head. The flames extinguished, and molten flesh dripped from its face. Blood drizzled down its jaw. Bits of its brain began to leek from an exposed portion of its skull.
It switched into a dancing defensive routine, shuttling back and forth with its pterodactyl wings covering its body like a vampire, occasionally peeking its head above the protective rim of its wing shield.
Fortunately, I had started healing. My vision stopped flashing red and I think my nose had repaired itself too.
I hopped toward it again, slashing the pizza cutters through the air. The monster ducked, sending me right over its shoulders. It slashed a jagged claw across my left bicep, ripping out a chunk of meaty flesh. Blood spurted as I screamed, falling to the ground.
“GAAAAHHH!”
The creature raised its wings and brought down a spiky claw. I blocked it with my other cutter, deflecting the blow with its shields. It must have emitted a shock because the creature howled and backed off. Its health bar was flashing faster now.
I rose to my feet, unsteady, blood spilling down my left arm. I lumbered forward, a cutter in my right hand.
I was breathing hard, biting back pain, through gnashed teeth.
“Enough of this.”
ME: You want flashy? I’ll give you flashy.
I sprinted toward the monster, feigning left and right, ducking low, and then unleashing a hellish uppercut swipe with my right pizza cutter.
SPLOOSH!
The spinning blade plunged into his abdomen, chewing his insides, sawing its way up through his intestines and organs, splitting his ribcage, bisecting his esophagus and tearing straight up to the top of its head.
The blade spun at such speed that it sliced the creature in two. Guts and organs flopped out as a geyser of orange blood sprayed. I got covered in the shit. The creature slumped over in two halves, dead.
Pukeodactyl Defeated!
Mission Complete: Kill Boss Monster.
Reward: +100,000 Points!
Flashy Kill Bonus!
Reward: +75,000 Points!
New Trophy! Splitting Headache.
Reward: +10,000 Points!
Auto-Looted Pukeodactyl.
Items Acquired:
Hot Stank Breath Play.
“Boss Beater” Hoodie.
The notifications flashed and cleared my screen, and suddenly, I was standing in front of the scoring zone, unimpeded.
I stood there, drenched in orange goo, gasping for air. I suddenly realizing just how out of breath I was. I looked down at the gash in my arm, pleased to see it was starting to close.
I pulled the orb out of my rucksack and stepped through the green, shimmering holographic ring. Immediately, the orb disappeared. A series of fireworks popped in the air. The circle flashed green three times and dissolved.
Two giant words splashed across my HUD:
Orbdown!
Reward: +125,000 Points!
New Trophy! First Orbdown.
Reward: +10,000 Points!
Suddenly, my map was empty, devoid of any symbols, though I could still hear ongoing battles in the distance. I peered again at the ISSN feed.
Unmute.
“Despite unbelievable odds, human contestant, Sam, has defeated his first monster boss and scored his first orbdown! Of course, this comes as a shock to many, as you can see from our fan reactions,” Blink narrated.
The screen flashed to shots across the multiverse of disgruntled viewers slamming claws and fists down on tables, chucking their snacks, tearing up betting slips. The screen flashed to a live shot of Dom Blady in the middle of his own battle alongside Rod and Jess. He turned to camera.
“What do I think about the kid’s first score?” He punched an alien-walrus creature in the jaw, knocking it out cold.
“Good for him. But, nobody brags when they’re dead. He’ll find out soon enough.”
The screen flashed back to the ISSN studio, where a slack-jawed Gill, stood at a loss for words.
“Uh… Gill, heh—we’re live, buddy,” Blink poked him in the side.
“Right, right,” he snapped out of it. “I guess congratulations are in order?” he said, tearing up his own betting slip.
Mute.
I took a knee. My adrenaline was subsiding and I suddenly felt even more of the pain stored up from the fight. My neck felt like it had been struck with a baseball bat and my side felt bruised from shoulder to shin. Fortunately, my arm was scabbed over and the bleeding had stopped.
“Congratulations on your victory,” ERNI said. “To score a single Slayer Down is a statistical rarity and an accomplishment worth celebrating.”
“Thanks,” I grunted, clutching my ribs. “Right about now I’d celebrate it with a chiropractor if I could. How are my stats looking?”
ERNI flashed them on screen:
Rank: 4,397,853
Points: 620,000
Fans: 27,955
“Whoa, okay… Almost 28,000 fans. Not bad.”
“For comparative reference, Don Blady has approximately 6 trillion fans.”
“Well, aren’t you just a bundle of sunshine and rainbows.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t understand.”
“Well, it’s just… I understand the need for empirical data and keeping me updated, but every once in a while, you gotta ease up on the hard truths.”
“Deceit isn’t in my programming.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know you’ve told me. I’m just saying… if a guy has a girl and she asks, ‘Does this dress make me look fat?’ You don’t tell her the truth. You bend the facts a little, so that you don’t hurt her feelings and get yourself into trouble. Does any of this make sense to you?”
“No.”
“Right. Let’s move on.”
