James A. Hunter
patreon
Backrooms 2: Kiosk Kingdom - Chapter 35
🕑 Added 2024-10-09 19:43:01 +0000 UTCThirty-Five – Footloose
The thump of the music helped mask the billows of rage and the unholy shrieks that emanated from the assembled Kevins and Kathys. Inside the span of an eyeblink, all the perfect people were gone, replaced by an army of monstrous creatures covered in yellow boils, too many eyes, and dangly flesh tubes which served as mouths.
There were several lawnmower men, just like the freakshow we’d battled before, but there were also Kevins that had different—though just as horrifying—body modifications. The one working the grill was covered in oozing burns, its skin charred black and cracking; one of its arms had been entirely replaced with what appeared to be the smokestack of a grill, which constantly belched gouts of fire. In his other hand, he carried a rusted grilling fork the size of a medieval spear.
Waiting for us in the street was some kind of reality-warped centaur, except instead of having the lower body of a horse, the upper body of a Kevin had been permanently fused with a golfcart. His skin and flesh twisted and merged into the steering wheel and dashboard, like gnarled roots growing into the metal frame. It was the kind of thing you couldn’t unseen, not even if you wanted to. The kind of thing that would haunt my nightmares
Worst of all, though, were the four Kathys grotesquely fused together in a chain, mouth to ass, like the unholy abomination from The Human Centipede.
The Kathy Centipede scuttled across the cracked suburban pavement on humanoid limbs with far too many joints, bending and twisting in ways that should’ve been impossible. Hundreds of normal human mouths dotted their body like open wounds, each one spewing an endless stream of meaningless Hobby Lobby, wall-art catch phrases.
“Home is where you can’t escape,” one mouth said, while another screeched “This is where the heart stops.” Dozens more pitched in—“Life is Short, but not here,” and “Happiness is knowing what you fear” followed by a “Live, Laugh, Languish.” The empty platitudes formed a maddening cacophony that scratched at the edge of my sanity.
This place was the worst, and we were fucking boned…
Except…
Except, maybe we weren’t.
Based on prior experience, these things should’ve been tearing me and my friends apart, limb by gruesome limb. Instead, most of them were simply milling about, enraged yet directionless. Like a ship without a rudder. One of the Lawnmower Kevins shambled drunkenly toward the grill, only to be confronted by the Grill Master with his charbroiled flesh and flamethrower arm. Lawnmower man reached for a piece of sizzling meat; Grill Master Kevin let out a ground-shaking warcry before unleashing a jet of flame so bright it hurt to look at.
Lawnmower Kevin stumbled back a few paces, its entire body engulfed in fire, then retaliated by launching an air blade at his would-be opponent.
Without a clear target, these things were turning on each other and the chaos was spreading quickly. More of the Kevins and Kathys were fighting now, battles spilling into the street like some twisted, suburban gladiator brawl. A pair of Kevins tumbled across the hair-covered lawn, fists flying and blood splattering against the unnatural turf. A Kevin with a pair of mailboxes for fists laid into a nearby Kathy, hitting her so hard that her chest caved in, and she went cartwheeling backward through the air.
The malformed woman slammed into the house with enough force to leave a bloody smear on the fleshy siding.
A hand fell on my shoulder, and I whirled around to find Edward Myrl looking at me with hard eyes and a scowl. “We need to get gone,” he said, though it was damn near impossible to hear him over the blasting music. “I’ve got a way out. A tunnel that leads somewhere safe, but we don’t have long. That radio only has enough juice for ten minutes, then things are gonna get ugly.” He turned and pulled me toward the cornfields.
I batted his hand from my shoulder.
“I’m not leaving my friends,” I growled.
Edward grimaced. “Suit yourself,” he replied with a shrug. “I’ll wait around until the battery dies.” He glanced at a watch hugging his bony wrist. “But not a moment longer, you hear me? You’ve got nine minutes. Nine. If you’re not there, I’ll leave you and your friends to die. Won’t be the first time. Probably won’t be the last either.” Then without another word he turned and darted into the swaying stalks on the edge of the property, quickly disappearing from sight.
I felt conflicted about letting him go.
I wasn’t sure whether he was on our side or not, but clearly, he knew a helluva lot more about this level than I did, which meant he might also know a way out. Still, I wasn’t going to leave my friends behind. Period.
I surrounded myself in cable-thick strands of telekinetic power, then rose into the air so I could get a better view.
Things were really spiraling out of control and the violence was spreading like an unchecked wildfire. I shot a glance toward the fireworks kiosk tent, silently praying that the wall of fleshy, inhuman sentinels had fallen into disorder as well. But no such luck. Despite the blaring music, which seemed to be wreaking havoc on the partygoers, the Kevins and Kathys encircling the kiosk stood still as statues, never so much as twitching a muscle. Not that I really expecting much else. Nothing was ever easy. Not in the Backrooms.
I tore my eyes away from the stripped tent and glanced down at battle unfolding below.
I spotted Jakob first.
The Cendral was on the outskirts of the party, currently trading blows with one of the lawnmower men. Surprisingly, however, he was winning. And not just winning but absolutely beating the ever-living shit out of the shambling monstrosity. The Cendral carved away chunks of flesh with his plasma shield before activating his Cow Catcher ability and ploughing into the creature so hard that he sent the bastard flying and twirling gracelessly across the yard. The most baffling part was that the Kevin was just sort of taking it.
I scanned the carnage until I found Temperance and Croc, who were kicking ass and taking names just as effectively.
Temp hurled a swarming ball of wasp-sized murder mosquitoes at the nearest Kathy then laid into the woman with her meat cleaver while the bugs went to work, tearing off chunks of flesh with razor sharp mandibles or burrowing beneath the skin like armor-plated moles. The Kathy swatted at the bugs while her HP dropped like a rock, but she didn’t even attempt to retaliate against Temperance. Eventually she bumped into one of the Kevins, who promptly retaliated with a mailbox fist made from brick and steel.
Croc was busy using its tentacles to rip the limbs from another Kathy, who only put up the flimsiest pretense of resistance. She flailed at the mimic with one of her remaining arms, but there wasn’t much enthusiasm behind the counter assault. Croc lunged forward, lifting her into the air with a pair of beefy, humanoid arms, then proceeded to literally tear her in two—right down the center as though she were a piece of lined notebook paper. Gore rained down and her organs dropped into a steaming pile on the lawn.
I winced. Gross, but effective.
Although the Sunnysiders were physically resilient, without whatever force was driving them, they were little more than mindless zombies. Shuffling aimlessly about and randomly lashing out at anything that got in their way. But even in their violence, there was no real strategy. Not like before.
I glanced back to the cornfields where Ed had disappeared, feeling torn. Although I didn’t want to lose my only lead, I also couldn’t pass up a golden opportunity like this one. Getting through this level wasn’t our only goal, after all. We also needed to grind out levels and since these things were effectively braindead for the next nine minutes, there really wouldn’t be a better chance. Sometimes you just need to grab opportunity by the throat and not let go.
My gut told me this was one of those times. Honestly, from my vantage, it almost seemed like cheating. Like shooting literal fish in a barrel.
But who fucking cared?
As I’d learned firsthand, life wasn’t fair, and these things were all higher level than me. Nuking their asses from orbit was a sure-fire way to gain a few levels.
A wicked smile tugged at the corner of my lips as I pulled a deck of Balloon Menagerie Spell Cards from my toolbelt. Time to burn it all down. Especially since Temp, Croc, and Jakob were all fighting on the edges of the lawn and outside the range of friendly fire.
I started to laugh, sounding more than a little insane, but I couldn’t help it. The squeal of guitars and Kenny Loggins’ gritty, upbeat vocals filled me with an infectious enthusiasm for rebellion and slaughter.
I thrust my hands forward and activated Fault Spike, conjuring a forest of razor-sharp earthen spears from the center of the lawn. The ground rumbled as the javelins ripped through feet and legs, punctured torso and eviscerated all the Kevins and Kathys not fast enough or smart enough to get the fuck out of the way. Without missing a beat, I activated the spell for a second and third time, until the entirety of the lawn and most of the driveway was covered in rocky protrusions and impaled bodies.
“Acid Rain, incoming!” I bellowed at the top of my lungs, immediately casting StainSlayer Maelstrom.
Churning clouds appeared above the unlucky Dwellers, pinned in place like frogs on a dissection board. Sizzling rain fell in a deluge. These things might’ve been resistant against physical damage, but they didn’t stand a chance against my corrosive bleach storm. The acid chewed through unprotected skin and melted flailing tentacles with merciless ferocity. The Kevins and Kathys shrieked in impotent rage and lashed out at each other because they couldn’t lash out at me.
Meanwhile, the super bleach pooled beneath their feet and continued its grisly work, chewing into the dirt. Except, it wasn’t dirt at all, I realized. The lawn was hair, and the ground really was some sort of flesh like material. As a result, the corrosive bleach continued to burn its way downward, leaving huge bloody divots in its wake. The earth rumbled in protest, as though it were some vast restless giant, but I was already in too deep to stop now.
My mana pool had dropped below ten percent, so I fished out a couple of the Mana Replenishment Spell cards and activated both with a word, adding fifty points of mana back to my reserve. After another ten or fifteen seconds of “tool juggling,” Psychic Sovereignty triggered Wild Surge, fully restoring my reserves and increasing my mana regeneration by 25% for the next few minutes.
Then it was right back to the grind.
Between Fault Spike and StainSlayer Maelstorm, I’d dealt out some brutal damage, but these things were tough as nails and bounced back quicker than young Marines after a night out drinking. They weren’t invincible, however, and most of ’em were still pinned in place—the perfect targets for a concentrated dose of Hydro Fracking Blast. I thrust my hand out, fingers splayed up, and let loose a narrow beam of water with the cutting power of an industrial strength laser. The geyser hit a Mailbox Hands Kevin and drilled straight through his chest.
Instead of relenting, I kept the Hydro Blast trained on my target.
In the heat of battle, fifteen seconds felt like an ungodly amount of time, but the wait was worth it. As the fifth stack of Scorching Erosion landed, the Kevin simply burst into flames as if its blood had turned into pure gasoline. He was dead in less than a heartbeat. With meticulous care, I moved the beam onto a nearby Kathy, whose hands had been replaced by blenders. I dragged the line of water across her torso and cut her in two, then focused the beam right on her head.
Head wounds seemed to deal extra damage and that one died after only eight seconds. I heard a ding and a flared briefly appeared, informing me that I’d just earned another level. Yep, just like fish in a barrel. I quickly found a new target, and swiftly decapitated a nearby Kevin, then sandblasted the remnants of his head. Not wanting to waste any time, I simultaneously unleashed another round of StainSlayer Maelstrom, inflicting additional corrosive damage on all the Sunnysiders trapped by the forest of rocky spikes.
Activating so many spells all at once would’ve been impossible even just a few days ago, but thanks to my new Spilt Personality sigil, juggling so many spells felt like second nature.
The ground once again rumbled in anger at my brazen bleach assault, but the Kevins and Kathys were in no position to do anything about it. Not while “Foot Loose” blasted in a loop at max volume, interfering with whatever telepathic signal controlled them.
I methodically moved the beam from one enemy to the next, systematically targeting their most vulnerable areas to maximize damage. Then, to really speed up the process, I let loose with the rest of my toys. Using telekinesis, I lifted individual Sunnysiders into the air, then slammed them into the spike-covered lawn over and over again, until they were mounds of pulp. My tools danced among the monsters, seemingly with a life of their own—hacking, slashing, and bludgeoning with cruel efficiency.
They didn’t deal a lot of damage in the grand scheme of things, but we were playing against the clock and every little bit helped.
Which is why I also plucked matte black Balloon Menagerie spell cards from the pack and sent them spinning down into the crowd like targeted missile strikes. Explosions thundered in the night, bright flashes of orange and yellow light punctuating the dark and leaving purple afterimages stained across my vision. The damage was adding up quickly and more and more notifications were rolling across my vision as the Kevins and Kathys met grisly ends.
And I wasn’t the only one who realized there was a gold mine of experience to be had.
Two Kevins and a Kathy lay dead at Jakob’s scaly feet, while a not so small mound of bodies surrounded Temperance and Croc. Limbs, ripped free by Croc’s tentacles, summersaulted through the air, spraying sludgy gore in surprisingly graceful arcs. A rough count told me the two of them had killed almost a dozen Sunnysiders, though I wasn’t sure how to count the Centipede Kathy.
Was that one kill or four?
I guess it didn’t matter in the long run. Dead was dead.
Temp was howling with laughter, and I’d honestly never seen her so happy. “This is for forcing me to wear a sundress!” She drove her cleaver into a Kevin’s skull, splitting his head almost in two. “You want something to drink, do you Kathy?” She shrieked. “Choke of this you frigid cow!” She hurled another ball of Dire Mosquitos into the woman’s face. The huge and extremely disgruntled mosquitos were not kind and stripped the flesh from the woman’s head in a matter of seconds, leaving gristle red muscle and strips of white tendon behind.
There were still ten or so of the partygoers left, ripe for the killing, but something else in the distance caught my attention first.
At first it looked like a dark wave on the horizon, washing toward us like the incoming high tide. But the longer I looked, and the closer that dark wave came, the more details I could make out. It didn’t take me long to realize what I was seeing. Reinforcements. And not just a couple. Hundreds of Kevins and Kathys were charging toward us in a wall of flesh, and they were closing the distance fast.
