Stumbling Up: A Loser's Guide to Progression - Chapter 36: Missed Chopportunity

"I'm not giving you Miss Chopportunity unless you tell me what you're going to do with her." Leo held his [Enchanted Axe of Singing] close, petting it lovingly.

Damn it. There was no way he'd give me his axe if I told him what I was actually going to do with it. I had to come up with an alternative plan.

"You're calling your axe Miss Chopportunity?" Tandy asked.

"It works. She's Choppy for short." Leo held the double-bladed axe as though it’d saved his life. I guess that wasn’t far off from the truth. It made me wonder what Ched had named her.

I needed them to stay distracted while I came up with another solution.

“You could have gone with Miss Cleava,” I said, with a grin. Leo’s penchant for cleavage was well known. Leo looked at Choppy, considering.

Meredeath smacked my arm. “What about a guy’s name? Jack the Ripper has a nice ring to it.”

“Why, Jack?” Leo asked, confused. Meredeath was distracting everyone with descriptions of a rather gruesome part of her world’s history while I was free to cast about for another option. Her world really did sound scary.

My hammer wasn’t the right tool for the job. I concentrated, and the hammer shifted to its [Pick] form. It was pointy, but not great for slicing. I needed a pointy, edged weapon that could puncture, then rip through flesh.

I eyed Meredeath’s daggers and Tandy’s glowing scissors. Either might work, but I wasn’t sure I’d survive an attempt to swipe them. Looking for inspiration, I scanned the ground.

A pointy stick sat suspiciously a few feet away from me. The bark was rough, curling up as though it wanted to slice into an unsuspecting hand or foot. I triggered [Analyze]. The description of the stick popped into my vision:

[Cutwood - This branch is from a cutwood tree, known for its razor-sharp tendencies. This tree can cut a hole right through a person or just as easily cut them in half. Cutwood splinters can be deadly if they enter the bloodstream and take root.]

This was precisely what I needed. Something sharp and cutting.

"Meredeath, can you hold this?" I handed her [Guardian's Promise]. I'd have to think of a snappier name for it if I survived.

"Sure?" She took the hammer and promptly dropped it. Her hands kept slipping from the handle. The hammer’s soulbound nature repelled her.

I bent low and picked up the cutwood carefully, immediately regretting the decision as the thick base bit into my hand. Damn, these trees didn't mess around. I dug through my bag, finding a strip of cloth to wrap around the base for grip. It was already bloody. Leaving my pack on the ground, I took off towards the tidemaw.

My sprint quickly aborted as the mud sucked at my feet.

I slowly made my escape one heavy footstep at a time.

I imagined Richard's voice taunting me: You really thought that through.

“Shut up,” I muttered to my [Self Critic].

I had been banking on the race to my death being a quick, ill-thought-out decision.

Instead, I slogged forward, muck sluicing into my boots. Plenty of time to doubt. Plenty of time for everyone to figure out what I was attempting.

"Cole, where are you going?" Tandy called. I could hear her soggy footsteps behind me.

“It’s pretty obvious,” I said, glancing back. She was having a worse time than I was. Leo stood looking confused, and Meredeath looked pissed as she awkwardly held my hammer.

Blood dripped from my hand from my cutwood injury. Malformed trees reached for me, like sharks sensing a kill.

"Go back, Tandy. I'm going to take care of the tidemaw." She was going to get herself killed.

"With a stick?" Tandy's incredulity hurt. She thought I was going to get myself killed.

"Well, I could have used Miss Chopportunity, but yes," I said, taking two more squishy steps.

The trees leaned down, branches reaching for a juicy snack. I swung the cutwood overhead like an axe, and each questing branch danced away. Maybe the cutwood could do the job.

"You don't have to do this, you can't take on the tidemaw by yourself." Tandy's voice was distant. I looked back, surprised that she’d stopped. A cut across her face bled.

Leo took a few steps towards us, leaning away from a Velcroak. He was already stuck, his heavy frame sinking even further in the morass. Tandy stood halfway between us, hands on her knees, panting. Meredeath blew me a kiss, waving one pointed figure at me in salute.

This was my shot. Slow or not, none of them were going to catch me. I turned my eyes ahead.

Anxiety threatened to freeze me in place, and I could feel [Self Criticism] triggering. It was my turn to contribute, to show my value.

I looked ahead at the dark pool of water. My plan could work. It would work. I took another step, building my resolve.

It was my turn to be useful, even if I was [Dead Wrong].

The air was thicker, ripe with the heated exhale of the tidemaw. The humidity slithered into my lungs and stayed like the last gasp of winter flu. The trees leaked sap as if they were ready for harvest.

The pull of the beast was starting to draw at my feet. Everything, the mud, the trees, the ancient tombstones strewn across the landscape, pulled towards the dark heart of the swamp.

The mud was losing the battle, sliding into the maw. Soon, I'd be at the point of no return. My feet slowly took me near Richard's prone form. I grabbed him by the tail with my free hand and chucked him towards the team.

“Is that Richard?” I heard Leo yell. I blocked him out. I was on a mission to prove I wasn’t just dead weight on the team.

Hopefully, Richard would stick with them even if I wasn't around.

I tried to pull up, to slow my descent into the maw. But my feet couldn’t gain purchase. The tidemaw’s suction was too great. I fell back, trying to use my hands to gain traction in the mud. My efforts were fruitless. The ground gaveway underneath the water, sloping towards the beast.

Everything, the trees, the fallen logs, the rectangular stones in the bog, was falling inward. My eyes were drawn to the faded inscriptions in an unknown language. What had killed so many people?

A large sarcophagus sat stuck in the mud, right at the aperture of the tidemaw's mouth. I tried aiming my slide towards the stone box, using my cutwood stick as leverage.

The sarcophagus was open, the top plate missing, but the base was stubbornly wedged as though it protested giving its charge to the beast. I hit the edge and tumbled straight into the coffin, landing face-to-face with a papery corpse.

Her sunken eyes stared sightlessly at me. The woman lay with a pearl cord wrapped around her head, keeping shimmering blue hair from her leathery face. She must have been royalty, a princess deserving of a full tomb. She smelled of brine, and lavender, and dust. A crushed velvet dress covered her body even as it decayed.

It would be my luck to survive the tidemaw only to gain an eternal curse from a pissed off princess from a long forgotten country. I wasn’t afraid. Her face held peace, not horror.

No time to think of the impropriety of disturbing the grave. I sent a silent wish for forgiveness to the Everbear as I tried to change position to view the tidemaw’s vortex.

The mud and water rushed around us as the tidemaw began swallowing the swamp. It was as though the beast could smell mortals in its territory and was eager for souls. It wanted me. It wanted my friends. I could feel it in my bones.

Thankfully, I still clutched the cutwood. Blood ran freely from the slices in my hand. It was part of me, and by the slivers, I could feel worming their way into my palm. I was part of it.

The sarcophagus was tipped almost forty-five degrees, so I got a good view of the fate awaiting anyone who fell in. Three rows of serrated teeth sat full of debris. The center was a dark pool of water with chunks of trees and meat bobbing. Each inhale of the beast sent ripples through the swamp. It was hungry.

The tidemaw's mouth was almost thirty yards across. Its body was set deep in the ground. Teeth sat like breakers filtering out debris and mud. In the center, the pool sat dark and clear, as though all the muck had been filtered out.

I could jump past the teeth if I had a little more leverage. A stump struck hard against the sarcophagus, tilting it further towards the teeth.

I looked over at the mummy. Two gaping holes sat in an ancient face framed with tendrils of shimmering blue hair.

"I'm sorry," I told her, as I stepped over the mummified body, trying to angle myself for the jump.

This was going to be a risk.

My instincts shouted at me that this was suicide. My heart pounded in my chest, answering the fear. I thought of Tandy and Leo here, trying to take down the beast, and of Meredeath with two tiny daggers.

I'd sacrifice myself for my friends any day.

I went to leap, but five bony fingers wrapped around my forearm. In horror, I looked back. The mummy lay out, looking as dead as ever, but gripped my arm hard. The other hand held a silver ring with an aquamarine stone. It shimmered, beckoned.

Was this really happening? Was I robbing the dead? Or was she gifting it to me? It looked like a gift. Maybe I’d finally lost it under all the pressure.

I reached for the proffered gift. As my hand touched the ring, a spark shot through my arm. Jerking, my fingers spasmed, grabbing it without another thought. The silver ring slipped on my finger as the ground began to heave.

A gushing spout of water sent the mummy, sarcophagus, and me soaring through the air.

The bony hand broke free, as though it’d used its last bit of life to give me the gift. The woman’s papery face began disintegrating before my eyes.

I took a couple of deep breaths, ignoring the urge to cough out the suddenly dusty air.

As my body flew through the air, I got one last glimpse of my friends in the distance. Leo’s pink sweater stood out against the browns and greens of the swamp. He was cradling Richard like a baby. Meredeath and Tandy shaded their eyes as they watched me cartwheel into the tidemaw.

I hit the water with a splash, the ring on a finger, mummy dust in my lungs, and cutwood firmly grasped. The sarcophagus hit the water above me, which was exactly what I needed. I wedged my body under the stone as it sank. The rest of the mummy was lost in bubbles. I sent a silent thanks, as I used its final resting place to facilitate my plan.

The sarcophagus's weight helped me sink fast. The mouth of the monster was a whirlwind of debris and bubbles. Bits of monstrous trees bit, stuck, sapped me as everything sank.

It was hard to see anything, or even keep track of which way was up, except for the weight of the stone above my body.

It was getting harder to hold my breath, harder to hold on. I refused to inhale.

A log rammed into my gut, knocking the air out of me.

It must have been a gloomsap because the log stuck to me and dragged me down as I struggled to breathe. My ears popped, and my inhalation brought only water. I could see my health bar start to drop as I began to drown.

The log took any escape I had in mind out of my hands. As I kept sinking, my only thought was to hold the cutwood tight. I was only going to get one chance.

Water filled my lungs.