92. Return to the Warren, Part 2 (Cottontail)
We proceed through the tunnels headed for the hub without encountering either bunny or mouse. We pass by breeding chambers silent of pleasure-moans for the first time in generations. We find another Mole-man patrolling the burrows that Spindle and Gabby easily execute.
The atmosphere is tense.
“Megan, you think mom is safe, right? Peter will protect her even if the Mole-men are here.” I try to spark a safe conversation I hope will ease the jitters these quiet halls are giving me.
My sister frowns. “Lois always knew how to handle him until now. I hope she’s alright, but I worry what he’s capable of.”
Shit, I feel like I’m making it worse.
“What about Stewie, Bonny, and Chrissy? They wouldn’t have gotten caught in the tunnels. They’d have made it to safety!”
“We’re about to find out,” Spindle says before Megan can reply, cutting me off from further speculation as the passage ahead opens into the hub.
My sensitive ears catch faint sounds as dim light from our party gradually illuminates the dark chamber. Shadows cast by dozens of pillars throughout the room recede as we approach, revealing a terrible scene.
“Alright, who’s next? What? Nobody brave enough to do their part for the Warren? Ha! Who am I kidding? You lot never could do what’s necessary. All you see is your next meal, and the next pussy to plow. It’s up to old Peter to make the hard decisions… You!”
“No! No, please! I’ll do anything! HELP!”
“That’s Stew’s voice!” I shout as I bound forward. Gabby’s clawed Goblin hand tries to hold me back with a hasty swipe, but I duck and weave around her. Megan dashes after me and Spindle skitters up the wall as Gabby sprints to not fall behind.
Then a sickening crunch fills the Warren.
“Damn, another failure. Guess we’ll have to keep going once I’ve made room.”
My eyes fail to register the scene for a moment even as my other senses tell me everything I need to know. The scent of blood and fear. The sounds of mewling cries and munching. The cloying feel of air moist with tears and sweat.
“Eh? That you, bitch-boy, darin’ to show your face down here after what you did? Brought some little friends with you? No matter, you can serve the Warren with the rest of your kin.”
Then my eyes catch up to the rest of me. I see the hub by the light of Gabby’s glowing rods desecrated with the gristly bones of my cousins. I see a dozen Mole-men on the perimeter of the chamber while eagerly sniffing the air. I see my family, Lois, Chrissy, and many other familiar faces huddled together in a cowering mass. Bonny is gone, and Peter clutches Stewie’s headless body in his claws.
My father, the Warren’s Patron, is no more. His pale grey fur has gone shaggy and matted with filth. His fat has become misshapen, hunchbacked bulk. His face is unrecognizable, stubbled cleft chin obscured by massive incisors curving like scimitars. The bladelike teeth are covered in gore and scissors through flesh like butter when he moves his jaws.
“Mole-Patron,” Gabby growls. “A side-evolution, but he may retain some of his Bunny abilities.”
“Peter, what have you done?” I ask, shocked and stunned with horror.
He squints at me as if his beady eyes can’t abide even this dim light. “What’ve I done? You cunt, you’re the one responsible for this! You bit my nuts so hard they got infected; I’ll never father another Fuzzy.” My eyes drop to between his legs where I find a thick dangling schlong gone gangrenous and putrid. “The Warren needs a protector. Without a fourth-tier, we’ll be wiped out by a predator Incursion someday. It’s happened before. With my evolution path to Patriarch cut short, I needed a new way forward.”
He takes another bite of Stew’s corpse while Megan and I watch him commit cannibalism with sheer disgust on our faces. “What? You think I named him after food for no reason? This was always my backup plan. Hopefully, eating all these here is enough to push me over the hump to four-tier. Either way, it’s about time to start over.”
“Start over?”
He snorts derisively. “I’m an old monster, bitchy-boy. Been farming Fuzzies for a dozen generations. Something big wipes out the crop every few years, but there’s always pussy around to get more. This time I’ll have to rely on my good ol’ boys to do the fathering.” The Mole-men snarl and grip their shovels.
“You control them?”
“They’re my sons, same as you. Decent guards. All they ask for is a mouse a week or a bunny every other and they protect the Warren against any real threats.”
“You’ve been feeding our siblings and cousins to the Mole-men all this time, you bastard!?!” Megan shouts. “Any for what? They don’t even protect us against predators!”
Peter scoffs at us. “No sense having them fight the wolves and Goblins just looking to fill their bellies when there’s plenty to go around.” The Mole-Patron drops his snack, reaches into the cowering mass of our kin at random, and pulls Chris, my angora bunny second cousin.
“Chrissy!” I scream as Peter tosses the fuffy bunny girl at a Mole-man, the monster’s slavering jaws wide open.
Gabby points a rod at Chris and a green tendril sprouts from the ground to catch the flying rodent monster midflight. “Peter the Mole-Patron, I’m here on behalf of Alexandra Vermillion with a proposition for you.”
“Tch. What does that Echidna cunt want with me now? Ain’t it enough she has the bitch-boy she wanted to play hide-the-sausage with?”
“You’re not seriously making a deal with him after what he’s done?” Megan asks Gabby, flabbergasted.
The Mole-Patron grunts in annoyance at her interruption. “Shut up, Meg. The predators are talking.”
Gabby’s eyes never leave Peter as she whispers a reply to us, “I said we’d deal with suboptimal complications as they arise.”
Before Megan and I can further object, we see a glowing purple net fall from the ceiling on a Mole-man standing against the hub’s far wall. A moment later, Spindle drops onto the monster’s shoulders, seals his mouth shut with sticky webbing, and plunges her fangs into his neck. I don’t even remember when I lost track of the frightful Webling.
“I can hear y’all just fine,” Peter says, though he seems completely oblivious to the quiet struggle going on behind him. The Mole-men facing Spindle’s direction must have poor eyesight since they don’t raise the alarm. “These ears still work even if they’re smaller.”
“And what of it?” Gabby questions loudly to mask the sounds of Spindle sucking the life from the helpless Mole-man. “Does that lump of grey matter between those ears still work? Or is that also smaller? Surrender, and allow us to levy the Warren’s monsters, or Alex will descend on you like a storm. She’s gotten stronger since when she faced you last by miles.”
“God Beast damn the fucking Echidna cunt; I bet she has. Welp, that just means I can’t be here by the time she comes looking.”
Spindle gets the drop on another Mole-man.
“What can I offer that’ll change your mind?” Gabby says, grasping at straws. “Wolf and Goblin pussy for your Mole-men? Spoils of war?”
“War? The fuck you say?”
She clears her throat and adjusts her spectacles. “The Ogre Fen and Kennel Hills are going to war for control of the region in two days. If you’re that close to evolving, an assist in killing the Wolf Lord or Ogre General will surely do the trick?”
“Heh, I didn’t live this long taking odds like that. Better to go to ground for a decade than fight a monster Leader at the head of his hoard.” Then Peter shrugs. “I’m almost tempted to take your offer for a taste of that Echidna boost, though. ‘Cept, my pecker’s spoiled, and I wouldn’t let that cunt stick hers in my ass for the world.”
Now, it’s Gabby’s turn to question, “‘Boost?’ What are you talking about?”
“You don’t know? Thought for sure you’d already felt the touch since you’re such a fucking weird Goblin. Haven’t you noticed how freakishly often monsters evolve around her?”
“No, I would’ve noticed—I keep quite extensive notes—but everything I’ve seen thus far has been within the parameters of my data range.” Gabby glances at me, her eyes darting across my corset teddy outfit. “Well, almost everything.”
“Nah, you’re missing the forest for the trees, you dumb midget-bitch. Even monsters who surely fulfilled all the requirements years ago, like me, might never evolve on their own. Life’s unfair like that.” I think back to Gabby’s hut, its insides littered with broken lab equipment and detritus from experiments that failed to spark her next evolution. “A few monsters evolve in a region every year, sure, but I bet the ones she’s met exceed that quota in less than a week.
“There’s something about an Echidna’s existence that brings out a monster’s potential. Some’ll try to control her, hoping to become the next God Beast, but the smart ones will kill her before she grows too powerful. What she is ain’t natural.”
“An evolutionary catalyst?” Gabby mumbles to herself.
“Perhaps the phenomenon is due to her faint connection to primordial chaos,” Spindle speculates as she scuttles around a pillar into view.
“Who the fuck are… oh, I see how it is.” Peter doesn’t bother with verbal repartee once he notices the only Mole-men left standing are the three he had in view during the conversation. The ones Spindle didn’t have time to drain to death are gagged and bound. Chrissy and my rodent kin take this opportunity to flee, scattering away from Peter, though he makes no move to chase. The three remaining Mole-men wait on his signal. “You’re a clever bunch of bitches, ganging up on old Peter like this.”
“Excellent work distracting him, Miss Goblin,” Spindle says while giving Gabby a polite nod.
Peter cracks his knuckles. “You lot know how long it’ll take to round them back up?”
“Last chance to surrender,” Gabby says with her rods held steady in firm grips. “I won’t lie, I’m eager to see what I turn into after killing you.”
“Heh, heh, heh, that makes two of us, sweetheart. Let’s dance,” the Mole-Patron says as he lumbers forward.