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The Somewhat Tedious Life of a Sword

You ever think to yourself, I sure do wish I had no legs, hands, feet, or any way to move other than someone else picking you up and lugging you around like luggage? If your answer was no I can only wonder why the hell not? I can tell you from experience being in the grip of a sweaty palm constantly slashing, piercing, and most of all thrusting into meat bags only to feel their wet sticky substance all over your body is quite refreshing. Forget water or rain, the true luxury of life is the revolting texture of blood Being someone's tool is by far the best possible way to live. It’s boring, pointless, and far too demeaning to ever think about silly thoughts like dreams,ambitions, or moving. I am lucky enough to sit in a single spot for long periods of time unable to change up the scenery, truly that would be just awful to be able to do that. Some people might say I’m being sarcastic or disingenuous and to those people I can confidently say, no shit. You must be the most gifted fuck in your entire race to have caught on to that you ingenious bastard. Honestly I don’t know what gave me away, was it the revolting part? Or maybe it was the thing I said about hands and feet? I'm getting ahead of myself, it's possible you don't know anything and everything has just gone over your head so let's start at the beginning. It all started with this narcissistic prick called the All-father. ------

Thewalkingbird · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
34 Chs

The Underground 2

Ah yes the classic looking around aimlessly not really knowing where you are, as far as special goes she is certainly anything but. I mean honestly she came wrapped up in a rug with nothing but the clothes on her which are very dirty might I add, I imagine she's some kind of street urchin. I just kind of figure she's a street urchin because her clothing is a tattered brown robe. Truly a horrible life, but at least her death will be easier.

Dying by spiders while violent is a more mild death compared to being buried alive, drowning, torture, burning, or rats which in my opinion is the worst way to go. It's not as if rats are inherently cruel but they take far too long to eat larger creatures on the verge of death and they scurry around you with their filthy tiny legs crawling all about. I shudder just thinking about it, mentally of course since I'm, you know, a sword.

"Hello?" Ha the fool is talking, hey meat-bag try shouting I bet someone will hear you, ha look at that she's about as smart as you reader. Well you know what they say meat-bags attract….other meat-bags. I'm not really sure where I was going with that one.

"Hello!?" She's actually shouting what the hell. "Meat-bag? I don't have any meat on me."

Wait what. Can you actually hear me?

"Of course I can hear you, you're talking."

The girl turned to face me finally pinpointing my location but she was still looking for a person not realizing that it was actually me, a sword stuck in a rock all along.

"Why are you monologuing to yourself?"

It's not a monologue. I'm writing a book, and stop listening to what I'm saying. It's rude.

"Then stop saying it out loud."

The girl was completely unfazed by a talking sword. Could it be that the world had changed so much that swords like myself had become so common?

"No really, the monologues are starting to creep me out."

It's as if she could hear every word I was thinking, or saying I'm not sure what the proper procedure is here. Most of the time I had to project my thoughts whenever I talked to Amora or the All-father which I considered to be speech. Now it's as if everything I say and do is simply heard. An eerie thought, for once in my life I think it might be best to actually stab something without asking any further questions, after all I don't like this.

Could you uhh just stab yourself into me?

"What? No, I'm not going to stab myself with you." She sounded perplexed, which is selfish because I'm the one that has to suffer through the blood.

"Hang on, can you not move?"

If I could move, do you think I would stay within this rock? I replied in my very mighty voice.

"Maybe, is it comfortable?" She asked stupidly.

Listen here you moving bag of meat, in what world is being stuck in a rock, comfortable? I struggle to think of a single creature that literally stabs itself into a rock as a protective or comfort maneuver.

"But you're not a creature, you're a sword. Also your voice didn't really sound mighty earlier, just the same".

If I had a jaw It would indeed be dropped, how dare someone point that out. What just because I'm a sword I can't have feelings or voice tones!? The sheer audacity a person has to have to think themselves better than you just because you can't walk is inconceivable.

"I didn't say anything about walking." She said cutting me off mid thought or sentence fuck this is harder than it was a moment ago.

Oi meat-bag shut up while I'm writing/thinking/talking. I waited for her to give me some kind of signal she understood but got nothing. Moving on then.

I'll have you know if I could talk to my old wielder I would most certainly have him stab you right now on principle alone. Wait a second, reader that must be it this meat-bag before me is distantly related to Dorian and Amoras stupid enchantment has fucked something up, she likely never expected Dorian to ever be able to talk to me and gave me some half-baked enchantment.

"Who's Dorian?"

Just some guy that's dead. She shrugged, apparently that's all she needed to know.

"So, do you like living in that rock?"

Of course not, it's cold.

"If you'd like I could take you out but you have to promise not to stab me."

While I do wish to stab you I'm afraid I can't you see as I've already pointed out I CAN'T MOVE.

"You ramble a lot, it's hard to follow everything you say. Also why did you go out of the way to state your capital letters?"

Ignore her about the capitalization reader she's far too dimwitted to understand.

"There you go rambling again, what are you trying to say?"

EXCUSE ME!? RAMBLE!? I have never once rambled in my entire life. Everything I say is clear and precise, completely relating to any current predicament or conversation. I demand an apology at once.

The girl rolled her stupid meaty eyes, turning away from me. Silently without moving or kneeling to get a better look around she started to analyze the room. Clearly she was an amateur having no clue how to venture the world. Every once in a while she glanced at me discreetly, although I'm not sure why she tried to be secretive. I can literally see in 360 degrees in perfect vision, probably even better than meat-bag eyes which to be frank don't look at all very helpful with sight.

Perhaps she's just too unlearned to know that talking weapons such as myself have acute vision. She shot me a glare before kneeling down plucking a few of the threads before moving to some on the walls plucking them as well. Occasionally she would murmur to herself and while I can't hear what she said I'm certain it was something stupid like

"WoW! I cAn'T beLi'evE tHiS is StickY"

or

"I'm just a dumb meatbag who has no idea where I am."

In a cheerfully empty headed voice befitting an idle minded meat-bag. She turned to me, her face red, whether in anger or embarrassment of having so little meat in her that she could hardly be considered an appetizer let alone a meal was uncertain.

"What is this white stuff?" She asked me, clearly shaken by my cleverly thought out insults as she tried her best to patch her wounded ego or pride, you know, meat-bag feelings.

Obviously it's spider thread which might I add my last owner would have known simply from the texture alone let alone minutes worth of analyzing something so horribly clear.

"Has anyone told you you're a bit of a jerk?" She replied hotly now looming above me like some small brained giant that thought size meant everything.

Only the All-father when he made me..OH and his crazy daughter I answered thinking of all the conversations I used to be able to sorta have, they were ok nothing special.

"Seriously, only two people?" She was unconvinced. Ah the poor poor meat-bag if only she knew my terribly sad origin story she would not ask such a-

"Well you are." She cut me off curtly.

Noted and burned, now at any moment a spider or more likely several are going to come through one of the above tunnels or side tunnels to suck you dry. Would you prefer I cheer them on or you? It's important I know your preference for my book.

"Wait, how large are we talking?"She asked, taking a worried glance around the room.

I don't know, how tall are you?

"5ft"

Ha so short, so pitiful, it's a wonder you've lived this long. Tell me, is your father meat or mother meat good at fighting?

"What? I don't know, what does that have to do with spiders?"

Nothing really. I was just trying to figure out how someone that should have been diced up as a meat-kabab years ago is still alive. Demons are no joke especially when it comes to meat-kebabs they love meat-kabas, well except the small ones. The small ones are kind of cowardly, preferring grass and fruits and bugs.

"Really? I heard they typically eat meat or fish."

Well whoever told you that clearly didn't know anything about demons but to be completely transparent they aren't that interesting. I think that's by design as well, for the most part they are almost indistinguishable from the next, always wondering what to eat or what village to burn, truly they are horribly dull meat-bags. Not that humans are better meat-bags, most of em just try to survive wondering dumb things like

"Man I sure do hope this demon doesn't find my hiding spot"

or

"Please hero save me."

Or in slightly more developed worlds stuff like what kind of leaf to eat to get the best nutrients. I do sometimes wonder why they don't just absorb the sun like plants but I suppose that is the curse of a meat-bag to be forced to do mundane things like eat. Indeed humans are a one dimensional kind of meat-species or three dimensional if you count all three of my examples. They are also a little lame or very lame depending on who you ask, the latter if you were going to ask me.

"Ok, ignoring the second half of what you just said, who's this hero that people ask to be saved by?"

Hmm odd Dorian was known far and wide when I knew him but just between you and me he kinda sucked once you got to know him.

"Yea, most people do."

Oh you realized that too huh?

"The other day I was walking home and a person asked me if I wanted some candy and who doesn't want free candy? So I follow him to his cart when a second person comes out of nowhere and knocks me out. Then I wake up with all my stuff gone talking to a living sword waiting to get eaten by spiders."

Oh yea Meat-bags are just the worst, let me tell you about Dorian. The first time we met he stabbed me into like a million demons not even asking once if I wanted to stab something. And let me tell you how it feels to stab things absolutely terrible, blood is sticky and has traces of an inferior metal called iron in it making it positivity, the worst kind of liquid in existence.

"That sucks, did you ever get him back for it?"

No alas I am but a sword cursed to stab things that I don't want to stab and never hurt the ones I really want to with the exception of this one time but that doesn't count because Dorian wanted to kill that demon too so it cancels out.

"I guess that makes sense." She replied scratching her head in fervent agreement.

Tell you what if those spiders behind you don't just kill you right off the bat and strew you up on the ceiling instead I'll tell you the secret to escaping the cocoon.

"Wait what?"

The moment she turned around a spider was already upon her knocking her to the ground. She struggled for a moment but the second was right behind its friend and together they started to wrap the human in a web.

I couldn't help but be impressed as they quickly tied her arms to her sides before using a second threat from the ceiling and raising her from the ground as they twirled her around spinning their web all around her. She screamed at first but I think her voice got tired or something as she instead looked to me in panic, for some reason thinking I could do something. It's as if she had completely forgotten I can't move, or more like she did forget meat-bags have terrible memory and she seemed like the forgetful type.

Her panicked look changed to a glare and here I thought we had become friends. I suppose all good things come to an end, so long floating meat-bag. Just as she was about to say something the spiders got to her head muffling anything she was about to say, I admit I was once again very impressed by their mastery of spinning webs. It was all done in just a few short seconds. Even the craftsmanship was to be admired, I almost forgot there was a human under all that web.

Actually it looks more like a cocoon, you know the kind of thing that a bug makes to turn into a flying bug, I think it's called a worm and it turns into a flying worm. You know what forget it, whatever the bug is called doesn't matter, the point is she looked much like one only larger. Though I doubt she will turn into a flying meat-bag.

Oh well, I suppose I'll just have to be friends with you dear reader. Side note if you have a friend that can talk to me and pull me out of this rock let me know. I would ask you but I don't really want you lugging me about treating me like a lollipop while you dumbly try to lick me and cut your tongue open. You lose a tongue and I have to suffer through a mixture of saliva and blood so it's best you find a friend that must at least know how to screw in a lightbulb.