Maw’s Gift
By Tamela Redfin

Ouch.

That was quite a fall. I’m surprised that I didn’t break anything. I tried to stand up, but my leg was pulsing with pain.

In time my eyes adjusted to the darkness. Maybe now I could move around, but something didn’t feel right. My leg was still in pain, but I knew it wasn’t broken.

I shouted to see if my siblings were around, but I only heard the dripping of the cave itself. Should I stay? Someone may be looking for me.

I saw a glint in the darkness. Could it have been a flashlight? “Who’s there?” I called out.
There was no answer. “It’s me, Cam!” No response. I waited for what seemed like hours, but no one came to rescue me.

At last, I came to the source of the light. It was a small, sand colored stone with a silver streak that seemed to produce its own light. I wasn’t much of a rock collector, though I felt the need to grab this curious object. Maybe I could use it as a light. I stared into the maw, navigating my hand through the sharp stalagmites and stalactites until the treasure was mine.

I held the stone and wandered through the endless caverns. The rock was brighter than I thought and it made a decent flashlight, but even that didn’t provide a way out. I began to question if there was even an exit to this cave.

Eventually, the rock was the only light I could see. I traveled deeper into the caverns. The further I traveled, the heavier my steps became. My vision started to blur. I had no choice but to rest for the night. I used my backpack as an impromptu pillow and laid my head on it. I held the precious stone close to my chest and I could’ve sworn that it provided me with warmth in the cold caverns.

When I opened my eyes, I was surrounded by green instead of beige colors. I dug my hand into the ground, and small beads of water clung to my fingers.

“The Teeth at Frostmouth”

By Arith_Winterfell

We had journeyed across the Scaren Peaks, a ruggedly mountainous landscape southwest of the wondrous City of Valenhost, to the wilderness of ice and snow. Now after our seemingly long and cold trek we had found the bandits cavern lair. Frostmouth Cavern was a fitting name for it, as it looked like the mouth of some large beast with icicles for teeth. We had kept quiet on our approach, not only to avoid alerting the bandits, but also to reduce the likelihood of an avalanche being triggered from the higher peaks.

Moren, one of the warriors in our group, however, was too impatient and after all this skulking saw fit to charge forward without the rest of us!

“By Balgor’s Fists!” Moren cried as he charged into their encampment, and the rest of us chased after him, hoping his battle cry wouldn’t bring some of the massive shafts of ice down on our heads. Moren looked around eagerly, clearly expecting bandits to come flooding out of the shadows to assault him and for him to glory in their slaughter. He slowed his enthusiasm as he finally noticed what the rest of us could see clearly, now that we were in the midst of the encampment. Dead bodies. Dead bodies torn apart by something savage. The bandits all appeared dead. All of them suffering from the same ragged wounds fringed with frost. Even Moren had begun to temper his previous excitement.

“Iceraths?” I asked of Melnor, my fellow mage in our band. He silently nodded his agreement. Our band closed ranks as we started to hear it. The sounds of softly crackling ice, followed by a ripple of hisses as toothy maws rimed with ice rushed out of the darkness deeper in the cave. Long serpentine creatures swimming through the air with rapidly unfurling wings, their legless bodies leaving no marks in the snow as they passed. The hunters were now the hunted.

Vivant
By MDC

The cave walls closed in with a wet smack. The air inside the cave was thick. This Miasma was really kicking up my asthma. The smell was worse. Between every breath I had to choose between exhaling and vomiting. The warm damp air was making my skin itch. I started to get lightheaded and needed to sit.

After pulling off my backpack I pulled out the map again. “Crap, it said that the Cave Ignavum Draco should be right here. Instead, I got stuck in a mud cave. Where’s the treasure, where’s Ignavim’s tomb, where’s the… the anything?” No one was around so I was talking out loud to myself. So, what.

After trying to get my breath back I had felt a cool breeze float across my face. I followed it to where I thought it was coming from. It was from up in the ceiling near a smallish hole. I thought that I might be able to fit in there and get a way out, but the holes would have been tight. I started to place my foot up against the walls of the mud cave and use it to gain some height.

Just as I was starting to jump, the ground shook. I tried again in a panic. Mud caves as very unstable and the slightest of Earthquakes could cause the whole place to flatten. So, I used the wall again and was able to get my hands inside the hole where the air was coming in at. I woke up at Hospital after that.

On the Television, a news reporter was speaking: “After years of disappearances near the Scale Mountains in northern France, an answer for these questions was finally answered. The mountain itself stood up and ejected decades, perhaps even centuries of bodies. Some in advanced stages of decay, others still rotting. One of the rescuers said that a single living body was recovered. When asked if the person was conscience, the rescue worker only stated that the person mumbled out one word, Vivant.”

A Poor Choice
By The Man Himself

“I said I’m staying here. It-I don’t think I really have a choice.”

The dull reddish glow of the abstract landscape around him gave the masked man and everything on him an orange hue.

“The similarly dressed woman beside him threw her hands up and took a few steps across the endless curve of the ground, away from him. She’d known he would say something like this. The third individual, a distinctly inhuman, near skeletal figure of straight lines and angles tilted it’s head towards him.

“What!?” It’s jaw clacked as it hinged open and shut.

“I gotta man, we can’t just leave this place unattended! It’ll be a bad scene for a bit but I’ll be fine-”

“You will not ‘be fine’!” It berated him, the maracas-like cracking of it’s jaw underscoring it’s point.

“Once I bail, and take my watch with me, there won’t be time here anymore. If that doesn’t scare you then you’ve understood nothing of our work so far! The world will end for you! You will not cease to breathe, there will be no breath, your body will not decay, it will just stop, stop interacting with anything around it, stop changing. You will be as dead as something can possibly be. What happened to me? To make me like this. Absolute pittance, PITTANCE compared to the oblivion you so casually condemn yourself to. Get a grip!”

“I-but we can’t just-”

The woman turned and addressed him tiredly.

“Think, for once. Alright? Even if someone comes back, and the concept of time with them, there’s no guarantee you will too. That might just be it, worse than hell, gone. Even if you snap back into existence… I mean look at our friend here!”

She jabbed a hand in the mannequin-like creature’s direction. “It mightn’t matter if you’re back. It won’t be you.”

“I-I guess. Yeah.”

“No shame in it, moron.” It gave the woman a dirty look as they prepared to leave the space.

“Just be glad we were here to pull your idiot head off the block I guess.”

Down the hatch
By David Chamberlain

Darclin’s leathery hand poured the emerald green liquid into his thick-stemmed cup. The cup had been fashioned from what was once the fang of a great beast.

 “Down the hatch.”, he thought to himself. Drinkin it and immediately pouring a second. The fluid flowed more like smoke than liquid and yet looked to be much thicker than water. The beverage seemed to climb at the sides of the mug as if gravity had barely enough grip to hold it in the vessel. “Down the hatch” he whispered to himself as he slammed the second shot.

“Are you ready?” someone shouted from the next room.

“I am.” was all he managed to vocalize as memories of horrific visions replayed in his head. Memories he hoped the nimbus brine would extinguish or at least assuage.

The lockstone in his left hand made a long deliberate swipe down the length of his warblade. The blade was given to him by his father on his 18Th cycle. Again the lockstone bit into the weapon and left a momentary blood-red trail along the edge which seemed to retreat into the handle. Almost as if charging a battery. At the end of each searing stroke, a wisp of vapor was expelled as the stone released its teeth from the blade.

The sound and smell of these actions combined with the nimbus brine forged his previously nightmarish memories into something else. Something between rage and rhapsody. The blood and screams, previously horrifying had taken on the appearance of a celebration or a carnival. He could feel the blade’s appetite for blood intensifying with each stroke.

“Time to fly!” someone barked from the other room.

He stood up and hastily poured a third shot of the green menace. He threw the strap of his bag over his shoulder. Grabbed his shield and headed through the door.

The next room contained a massive jaw-like structure. A shimmering gateway framed with great jagged teeth.

He threw back the third shot and dropped the cup.

“Down the hatch” he exclaimed as he drew his blade and leaped into the portal.

Immortality at the Singularity
by Gamesolotl

What we once considered grandiose, nigh immortal beasts die before my eyes. One by one. Some twinkle away like a candle out of wax, others die in a blinding explosion.
I was not supposed to use my escape pod, but there is nothing I want more than this. Only in here can I be immortal, if only for a few moments. I always wanted to see this story through until the end, because the prospect of me not being able to witness it terrifies me.
The universe, now just a large blueshifted hole in the void, still seems within reach. I’m well aware it is planets away. The beasts are dying faster and faster, with fewer and fewer ones being born, just as expected. Their glorious light begins to fade, and after one final silent bang, it fades, never to return.

With the light gone, I finally notice the faint goldenrod circle close to the edge of the dark and empty fishbowl of a universe. It has been here for a while. It must’ve been. They are the last forms of intelligence to survive, orbiting my eternal tomb, desperately clinging onto existence. The goldenrod circle sits unchanging for minutes. They are running out of time. I am running out of time. I’m not sure if time means anything anymore.
I will never know if humanity passed the Great Filter, or if there is a Big Rip. All I know is that I am going to meet my demise at the core of the hungering universe behind me.
I suppose entropy has finally won.

Just as my last glimmer of hope fades, a white ring appears in the center of the goldenrod one. The escape pod picks up radio waves and begins to decode them, mere seconds before gravitational shockwaves violently shake the foundation of the cosmos. The circles are gone. As the process of spaghettification begins, I close my eyes and listen to the now decoded message.
They did it. They broadcasted instructions on how to warp to a different universe. I smile. Entropy hasn’t won yet.

Unsafe Shelter
By Maggie Webb

Czar dragged himself, as fast as his swelling arm would allow, across the desert floor. The pain muted the chill of the evening winds. Seb pushed the boy’s head against the sand. Only a skeletal bush concealed them. Czar didn’t need to look up to know his bodyguard was signalling him to stay quiet, or that the Lotus had abandoned them.
“Search the area,” called one of the soldiers. “Something fell from the plane—it could have been them!”
Lantern light drew nearer, erasing whatever escape the dark could have promised. Dogs barked and snuffled at the remains of Seb’s bag. Pieces of jerky spilled out.
Seb tugged Czar’s head away from the encroaching search party and towards the dunes. Strange shadows twisted and gathered within them. One large, circular opening awaited. Splinter-thin teeth lined the maw. Panic seized Czar’s chest. The moonlight reflecting off the beast’s milky eyes confirmed his suspicions.
He shook his head. He mouthed the word no. It didn’t matter. Seb, with a fistful of Czar’s shirt in tow, crawled towards it.
“What if it’s not dead,” he whispered.
“It’s this or we go back.”
Czar cringed. The mouth reeked of mould and ammonia. The grey tongue was a dry sponge under their feet. Air hissed through the back of the throat. Czar swore he saw the walls constrict.
His companion staggered deeper down into the creature’s gullet. His boots squelched the whole way. Fear kept Czar standing on the tip of the beast’s tongue, hugging his arm close to his body. The voices of their pursuers sounded like distant murmurs, growing louder. He hunched as much as his revulsion allowed. The needlepoint teeth, he hoped, made a good enough cover.
Adrenaline staved off the threat of sleep for now, but not fatigue. The young fugitive let his body sag against the deadly barricade. It wasn’t hard to stay still. The crunching sand had him frozen in place. He waited for the lanterns. He waited for the dogs. He waited for hours.
The only place they reached him, however, were his nightmares.

The Tale of the First in Centuries to Cross Realms (Tales from Alsair)
By ThatWeirdFish

“The energy source grows stronger in there,” Annata said and pointed to the cave. “That must be where The Elders have hidden the portal.”

“Of course, they had to guard it with a Rucksha.” Balek scoffed. He scowled at the undulating creature as it prowled about the entrance. He crossed his arms across his scarred chest. “Don’t tell me that we have to-”

YES. The word echoed from the voice-stream in Balek’s mind. SEEK. FIND.

“Queen’s orders.” Annata shrugged and started cautiously down the slope towards the cave. Balek snarled a hiss and followed his brother. He watched as the Rucksha lifted its bulbous head and tested the air with the tentacles that drooped from its jaw. It harumphed and continued its patrol. Familiar skeletons crunched beneath every step.

“Annata,” Balek hissed, crouched beside his brother behind a boulder. “You certain it’s in there?”

His brother cleared his throat against the beast’s stench. “Only one way to find out. I’ll distract it. You go in and find that portal.” Before Balek’s protest left his lungs, his brother lunged towards the creature; their war cry pierced the foggy air.

Balek muttered a curse at his younger brother’s audacity and crept past the two that danced with death and into the cave. Jagged rocks dangled precariously from the roof and shuddered every time the beast landed a blow to the earth.

There, half-buried in grime and gore, was the two twisting spires that marked the portal.

GOOD. The queen’s voice dominated the voice-stream. ACTIVATE IT.

Balek hesitated, unsure of where to start. His brother was the smart one. The one-

A choked scream cut his thoughts short. His taloned tail scraped sparks against the stone floor as he whipped around. The Rucksha lumbered towards him, his brother’s blood smeared along its writhing jaw.

IGNORE. ACTIVATE THE PORTAL.

Balek involuntarily staggered back between the spires. “No,” he screeched as the beast drew closer. He felt the hungering arms of the portal. “Annata!” He blinked, and the world he knew vanished.

Alone under a different sun and cut off from the voice-stream, he wept.

Zathasha
By Mango Gravy

Gridel stared blankly at the pile of gastroliths he’d retrieved from the corpse of a straandbeest. This had required him to plunge, head first, into the mouth of the creature, reach into its stomach, and wriggle back out with an armful of the fist-sized stones.

It was filthy work. He was covered in saliva, bile and maybe some blood, but if this is what his mentor demanded then he would do it. Apprenticing under Raum could kickstart his wizarding career and give him a head start over most of his peers. He may not have expected such grueling tasks but he had worked hard for this opportunity and would put his hand into a zathasha’s mouth if need be.

The door to the laboratory swung open and in came Raum, beard and face split by a ridiculously wide grin, wheeling his next assignment on a cart.

“Merlin’s bearded groin,” Gridel cursed.

There on the cart lay the unholy union of marshmallow and cactus. It was pudgy. Soft and round, topped with beady eyes, skin splotched pink and white, and with stumpy limbs tipped with blunt claws, it was the cuddliest looking thing in the world. But, as Gridel peeled back its lips and opened its mouth, it transformed from something out of a child’s drawing to the conjuration of a nightmare.

Every inch of this animal’s insides was lined with enameled spines, like a sea urchin turned inside out. Each one glistened with what Gridel knew to be toxic saliva and seemed to glare at him, threatening dire consequences if he dared put his hand inside the maw.

“A zathasha,” Gridel said. “I should phrase my thoughts better.”

“Consider us lucky,” Raum said as he stroked his beard, “A specimen this fresh is hard to come by this time of year. The venom samples will be brilliant.” And so he turned to walk out of the lab, a spring in his step, no doubt thankful he wouldn’t have to do this himself. “Oh, and do be careful. Peristaltic grinding motions can occur spontaneously even days after death.”

“Ugh.”

The Great Gray Wendigo (repost from private)
By: Makeshift Mousepad

The transporter treads hit rough terrain causing Charlie’s already nervous fingers to slip from his rifle. The captain would’ve been pissed but Delta anticipated the event and grabbed the barrel before it could clatter against the floor. The other riders glanced over before promptly minding their own business.

“Really, rookie?” Delta’s voice filtered through his helmet’s speaker.

“Give me a break. It’s my first mission with the Dragon Riders and it’s the biggest one we’ve seen.” Charlie responded.

Delta rolled his rigid helmet. “Listen kid. If the name ‘Dragon Riders’ has taught me anything, it is that the media hams things up for the public. I mean… come on. ‘Operation: Wendigo?’ Next they’ll be sending us to neutralize Dracula.”

Charlie leaned closer, his suit clattering against itself. “They said this thing leveled a city!”

“What a coincidence. These guns can do the same thing.” Delta’s characteristic smirk seemed to beam through his visor. “And in these suits, we wouldn’t break a sweat.” He flicked his chest plate creating a few sparks.

“We’ve got contact!” A voice shouted from the driver’s seat.

Before they could raise their heads, a flash of light roared through the aisle of the transporter. The atmosphere of war washed past them like a freshly split oyster. Charlie and Delta quickly noted the distance between them and turned their attention to the light. At the delta of their ruined transporter stood a hunched figure with their arms stretched out to their sides.

Charlie, frozen in fear, couldn’t raise his gun. He could only watch as metallic spikes shot through all of his comrades who managed to move.

“Pathetic.” Joseph’s crimson gaze drifted over to Charlie. “Motionless, when moving mattered most.”

Charlie clenched his teeth at that and gained his resolve. Lunging forward, he readied his weapon. But like lightning, Joseph lobed off Charlie’s forearms with his bare hands. The screaming pain sent Charlie to his knees. “Why are you doing this!” He choked through his pain.

With contempt Joseph answered, “To save humanity from its own maw.”

Traumfresser (Darkspell Universe)
By Alex Nightingale (aka Spectre)

Where was she? How did she get here?

The asphalt was cold beneath her bare feet. There was no wind, but a soft spritzing rain sprinkling onto her. The street was poorly lit and empty. The air was thick with a stench of sulfur. In the sky above her, she saw a massive jagged line, like the exit of a titanic maw.

“Hello? Dane? Rosie? Sol?” Mia called the names of her friends.

All she heard was the faint whisper of countless voices.

“Hello?!” she raised her voice. “Anyone?!”

They came. People, first one, then ten, then thousands oozed from the gaps between houses. The whispering grew closer and louder. Mia tried to make out familiar features, trying to find Dane’s wavy hair, Rosie’s freckles or Sol’s grey eyes. She desperately searched for telltale signs of her friends, until she realized that all these people were bald and completely featureless. Where faces should be, there were only pulsating patches of skin. Slowly, methodically, they began to circle her.

Mia backed away, until she bumped into something. She whirled around, seeing one of the faceless entities stretching its hands towards her. She screamed and backed away. The whispering had risen to a deafening crescendo; the stench of sulfur stinging her nose like an angry wasp. One word burned in her mind like a flare.

Traumfresser. Dreameater.

It had only been a laugh. A harmless little exercise by four magic students. A simple test, nothing more.

“Mia”, that was Rosie. “Mia, help!”

She turned. There were Rosie, Dane and Sol, all of them surrounded by these faceless. Hands were covering their bodies, dragging them into the mass of people.

“No”, she covered her face. “No, no, no.”

“Help!”

Mia couldn’t take it. She turned and ran as fast as she could. Tears flowed down her cheeks, as the voices of her friends grew faint. Hands reached to her. She screamed, sending hexes of white flame their way.

When she woke up in a hospital, they told her they’d found her in Sol’s dorm, surrounded by her three dead friends.

Champagne Smiles and Glittered Kisses
by Lunabear (Private Repost)

The rancorous, drunk crowd howled just beyond the velvet curtain.

Taryn’s stomach wanted to revolt. Heavy bass threatened to vibrate her into a puddle. She could hardly feel her heart assault her ribcage.

Swallowing did nothing to alleviate the dryness in her throat.

The crackling of the ear piece caused Taryn to shriek. She slapped a stinging hand across her mouth.

“Cray just walked in. Corner booth.”

She bit her lip at Thane’s announcement.

“H-how many?” She hated the tremor.

“Six. Deep breaths, baby bird. All access points are locked down. Cray won’t slip out without our notice.”

She knew Dalton’s smile was pinched.

The song ended.

“You can do this, Taryn. Put those gymnastics skills to use.”

Kaila’s tight chuckle didn’t soothe Taryn’s frayed nerves.

She removed the ear piece and silenced it with fumbling fingers. She then placed it on a nearby table.

“Welcome to the stage, Starshine!”

Taryn’s lips felt like etched granite as she smiled and burst through the burgundy waterfall.

The place was packed, and the lights were far too bright.

She spied her comrades with minor relief. She couldn’t locate Cray, but his entourage stood out.

A hard rock song blasted as she approached the pole. The cold metal against her palm blocked her anxieties.

Lewd jeers rolled from her shoulders and fell to the glittered platform.

Her lids drooped, and she grew a lazy smile.

Taryn was soon a slave to the rhythm, and executed the practiced, complicated moves almost flawlessly.

The patrons were enraptured, nearly mobbing the stage.

Her heeled feet hit the wood again. A different sort of adrenaline doused her veins.

Through raining green, in the center front of the throng, stood Cray. His curved lips revealed crooked fangs.

She finished her set to thunderous applause and shrill whistles.

While collecting her earnings, she sent a flirtatious wink Cray’s way.

She blew a kiss and sauntered back through the curtain.

Once backstage, she replaced her ear piece and exhaled deeply. Her heart gradually slowed.

Footsteps echoed.

“Do you perform…private shows?”

Taryn’s gut clenched at Cray’s thick Russian accent.

My What Big Teeth You Have
C. M. Weller

There are several things wrong with taking a sacred vow to heal ALL hurts she met. Primary in her mind was the dragon with a sore tooth. It’s always the problem right in front of you that looms large, but this one was larger than most.

“You have poisons in your bag,” rumbled the dragon. Of course he smelled them. “Know now that they are insufficient to end me. Your attempt is pure folly.”

“I’m not here to kill you,” Allaine made a show of putting her bag down, laying out some of her tools. “I’m here to help.”

“I could eat you in one bite,” said the dragon.

“You’ve just fed on your tribute of elderly cattle. You’d make yourself sick,” Allaine insisted. “And you will still have the pain. It might be years before you meet another healer like me.”

The dragon tilted their head to one side, eyeing the tools Allaine laid out. “Most people try to kill dragons.”

“I’m not most people. I took a vow to heal all hurts and it turns out the Gods take you seriously. You do NOT ignore a prophetic vision twice.” Once was plenty for Allaine.

A snout the size of a hut came close to sniff her. The dragon didn’t need to do that. Dragons could scent prey across mountain ranges and some could scent them across oceans. Perhaps while she was here, she could check them for the sniffles.

The dragon knew she was their only hope. Allaine had only the trust in her Gods and the hope that this would release her from her vows if it all went to the dungheap.

“What do I do?” said the dragon.

“Let me prepare and then let me work,” said Allaine. “It will hurt, but that will be the end of your pain. With luck, the pain of ending your woes will be brief.” She had everything she needed. “Open. And stay open.”

The dragon COULD eat her in one bite. There was only one way to know if they wanted to.

Sleeves rolled up, she stepped inside.

END