The Hollowed Mountain 2

The cyclops came back everyday for the next week always playing with the same rocks. Of course every day it came back it tripped on me a few more times six to be precise and not once did it ever look at me. It was all very distracting and if it hadn't been for this annoying deformed cyclops I would have definitely come up with the next issue of the Huntmaster Hamster.

Reader don't get any funny ideas about me having writer's block or some other ridiculous meat-bag problem. I am unburdened by such meat-bag limitations and have a limitless imagination that you could only ever hope to have a fraction of. Alright now that I've straightened that out you can carry on with your daily meat tasks like rock collecting, I know you are here to read my amazing book but you will just have to wait a while before I resume the epic tale of the Huntmaster hamster. I will reiterate that this is entirely the fault of the deformed cyclops and not because I am having trouble figuring out what happens next.

Dododo, oh you're still here. Yeah well tough Reader I get you wanted some grand adventure or something but this is a lot of what my life is: waiting and waiting and guess what more waiting. But it's not as if some nincompoop that has at least two brain cells will just fall out of the sky and inform me that it too can talk to me and is willing to be my pair of legs. If life were that easy I would be doing more important things like observing squirrels for a few thousand years. Yup, no random person to fall out of the sky or even a pair of legs that can attach itself to me...

Ok i'll admit I was hoping some random creature would fall out of the sky when I wrote that bit but hey like I said this is really a waiting game. Why do you think I spent so much time making up games? It's because I have literally nothing to do. Ok well at this very moment technically I could watch this cyclops waddle around throwing rocks everywhere. But I could also start counting clouds and I'm not about to do either of those things.

Oh hang, my mistake Reader the cyclops isn't throwing a rock it is now sucking on one so I hope you're happy that something new and relatable has happened. Hmm, sky is blue check, ground is groundy check, fuck me Reader are you seriously still here? You better not be saying something like

"WhY WeReN'T YoU NiCeR to MuffLes"

Shove it Reader I don't have to take this from you, you can't even speak. Frankly I bet you can't even read you're probably just flipping through pages or swiping some kind of screen because books are too heavy for you. Well If you're so cool why don't you go suck on that other rock by the cyclops. Yeah I'll wait. Oh look at that I don't see you nope nowhere to be seen. So if you're not going to make something happen I suggest keeping your meat thoughts to yourself.

OOO good news Reader the next issue of the Huntmaster hamster I've figured it out. The Huntmaster hamster will finally meet an arch nemesis, a human named Rader they will but very dumb befitting a meat-bag and naturally they will end up accidentally killing themselves in the middle of the story.

See Reader I'm a genius and now you can be entertained for a little bit. Let me just piece together a few links to the story and the next issue will be ready. Or I suppose for you this is just a few sentences away, ah how nice it must be for everything to just happen immediately. Maybe I'll just line the next few hundred pages with a bunch of periods so you have to wait like me. Hmm that's actually a good idea.

(for the sake of both our times Reader I will not be inputting these periods -The Writer)

Ahem did you enjoy all the periods Reader? I hope so because now it's time for my next issue of Huntmaster Hamster! PREPARE TO BE AMAZED! It all started- the soft sound of steel sliding out of a sheath stopped me. Strange the mountain was barron save me and the deformed cyclops who instead of just sucking was now teething on the rock. After several quiet moments passed I decided it was just my imagination which made sense. My story telling must be so vivid that it is even fooling me now. My abilities scare even me sometimes. Now where was I?

Ah yes it all started- A distant clank of wood against steel again interrupted me. Where in the heck was it coming from? I watched the cyclops more closely; perhaps it traded its few brain cells for mimic abilities? Although mimics didn't exist in Amora's world so that couldn't be it.

All the same I watched it closely. It's one buck tooth gnawed on its rock; its slobber covered the gray rock almost entirely. It made its normal babyish noises as it teethed on it. Hmm, ok Reader let me try one more time.

It all started- A cyclops head flew in the sky arching over the deformed one to right in front of me a splash of its black blood just narrowly missing me. Son of a- oh no you stop that right now! The black blood from the head spilled out of the severed head inching its way towards me bit by bit as it creeped towards me. It was a foot away but this head must have had a world record amount of blood within. It was as if the blood was finally free from its fleshy prison and had a new innate desire to taint my pristine steel.

Should I try to inch the head away by extending part of myself? No, that wasn't possible, even the slowest point of my steel would probably just stab into the head rather than move it away. Not to mention pushing it away would risk getting even more unnecessary blood on me. I was running low on options as the pool was now just an inch from me. Come on Swordy think, what would Dorian do? Well that was stupid thought, he had legs and if anything took great delight in blood.

Just as it was about to encroach into my home the deformed cyclops stepped on the stream that was approaching me stopping this villian dead in its tracks. Oh thank god, deformed cyclops you are officially the new hero of the story congratulations! This permits you a catchy nickname and a spot in the afterword that I haven't written yet. Just give me a moment. I'll have your new name figured out in no time at all.

The deformed cyclops bent down to pick up the head looking into its eye. I think the new hero of the story was developing allergies as its eye watered with moisture. What should your new name be deformed cyclops? I can't simply name you hero because that's too bland. What about bestowing you the title that no one else will. Instead of deformed cyclops you could just be cyclops. No, that's not right. I can do better also I'm sure you don't care about being a regular cyclops. The rock from the soon to be renamed deformed cyclops/hero fell from its mouth

"Ba?" It made one of its senseless cyclops noises.

Fun fact reader Cyclops don't have per say a normal language or a coherent one in general. Each tribe just kind of makes noises and pretends they know what the others say. They are more of a non-verbal kind of demon species if you catch my drift.

The deformed cyclops shook the head accomplishing nothing but spreading droplets of blood. Luckily the deformed cyclops shielded me from being profaned.

"Ba?" Its voice cracked. Stretching its arms up the deformed cyclops held the head above itself.

"Ba!" It shouted at the head.

Oh now I get it Reader that was the cyclops that always came by at sunset to pick it up. When the head did nothing but drip more of its black blood I expected our deformed cyclops to try something else but it just stood there waiting for the severed head to do something. The poor simple minded cyclops had no clue that its portable legs that once served it so well were dead.

It was easier to hear the echoes of battle going on in the distance now that the deformed cyclops was mostly quiet. Some things never change Reader and in this case its meat-bags killing meat-bags. I think it's a bucket list thing, everyone's gotta kill at least one other meat-bag to be officially labeled a meat-bag. Not an inherently bad thing if you don't mind blood and decaying bodies. The bodies don't bug me so much but I figured I would mention it anyways just to complete the picture so to speak.

Slowly the battle noises softened until they were gone all together. Well look at that deformed cyclops you got lucky. You should get yourself a metal. You could engrave "Number 1 survivor" on it. That would also solve my nickname problem for you. I could just name you 1 or survivor. Hmm, that really is a good idea all we need to do is find a metal for you. I suppose I could try instructing the newly named 1/survivor where to find a metal. Vivian's old home might have metals she did mention collecting stuff.

Just as I was about to point to the underground hive so that 1/survivor could scour it for a metal, a party of adventurers came into view. Their armor coated in black dripping with the blood of the demons they had finished killing. Damn deformed cyclops that had almost been named 1/survivor I guess you won't be getting that metal or cool nickname.