The Birth of the New World

It’s been two days since I camped out in the bookstore. Following the map and just generally sticking to a south-western route, I followed the roads until I hit the highway. Along the way I tried camping out in a couple of places in hopes of finding some better fitting clothes and other supplies.

The first was a shoe store in a shopping plaza. I tried to find some boots, but I kept running into issues. Either they would be too small or even the right size for my feet, which results in the claws on my toes tearing into the ends of the boots. Trying bigger boots to fit my claws better, just makes them not fit properly and the one time I tried to wear some steel-toes just ended up with my toes feeling cramped and forced my claws to dig into the souls of the boots, it was very uncomfortable.

Giving up for now on wearing boots, I ended up grabbing a pair of sandals that fit my feet well. With the openings on the front, my toe claws [Talons?] are on full display and poking out. I could probably really hurt somebody if I were to kick them.

The second night of camping was spent searching for some better fitting clothes, which didn’t go as well. The store I chose to camp in looked to be in good condition from the outside, but in reality, the roof had been severely damaged. What clothing that was left was either water damaged and filthy or worn away and half eaten by moths. The only success for that night was managing to find a pair of sports bras that fit and were blessedly still in good condition.

Yay! No more running around braless. Even if I don’t have anywhere near the same level of ‘assets’ that I used to, it doesn’t mean that I’m going to suddenly stop wearing them. Just makes me uncomfortable.

Now if I could just find some better fitting shirts, jeans, and underwear. The ones I have work, but they all have the same issue of being too damn big.

I’ve had to roll up the legs of my jeans to keep from tripping on them, and I have most of my shirt tucked in, but I can’t tuck all of it in because my tail gets in the way. So, I’ve ended up with about half of the shirt tucked in and the other half just hanging out.

When I looked in a mirror at the clothing store, I found myself looking a bit ridiculous. With baggy clothes in sandals and a lion’s mane of messy hair. I had something of a hippy-demon look going on. I had to fight back the urge to laugh at myself.

Besides my failed attempts to find some proper clothing, I’ve come to a harsh realization. I really can’t sleep.

Despite having been awake for about three days now, I am still wide awake. While I am still capable of getting tired, I just simply don’t get sleepy.

I have no idea if this is a permanent thing or if I can just go days without sleep and will eventually pass out, but it seems that this is something that I am probably going to have to learn to live with.

Back to the present, I’m not doing anything particularly exiting, I’m walking. Just putting one foot in front of the other in my new sandals as I walk down the highway.

If driving was still an option, I would have reached my destination days ago. But because this is the end of the world, I have to walk. Can’t even ride a bike, the roads are in horrible condition, barely even good enough to walk on.

After months of abuse from earthquakes, splitting from the growth of tree roots, and absolutely being littered with crashed and abandoned vehicles, the highways are a complete mess.

Which isn’t saying much considering that they are Ohio highways. Even before the apocalypse these roads were a mess. Always full of potholes or having whole stretches of road being constantly under construction. Basically, there are just more trees now.

“Hah hah ha,” I giggle to myself as I make fun of my own home state.

Not that I’ve ever held much love for Ohio. Always wanted to move out of the state.

A couple more hours of walking pass until I come across an interesting sight.

Ahead of me, starting from the on ramp, all of the cars have been pushed off to the side and stray trees have been cut back. This opened path extends onward for quite some distance from what I can see.

Somebody has been through here. A lot of somebodies.

Moving forward to investigate, I find that some of the cars are dented from having been forcibly pushed aside. Others have their windows broken in; the cars put into neutral to be pushed aside. What trees had been in the way have been cut down, most likely with chainsaws.

A lot of people were traveling through here, heading south. Have I found the army convoy’s trail?

Since they were kind enough to clear the trail for me, I decide that for my journey south, I will try to stick to the same path that they took. I have no idea how far ahead of me they are, they could have already reached the base for all I know, but if they were moving vehicles full of civilians down these roads then it is doubtful that they were traveling very fast.

Picking back up my way with renewed vigor, I follow the trail left by the convoy.

Hopefully they didn’t run into too much trouble with monsters and stuff. Don’t want Anna and my parents getting dragged into anything dangerous. I hope they are alright.

Following the trail for some time, I come to a sudden stop. Something about the road ahead of me makes me feel uneasy.

Looking ahead, the road seems innocent enough, cars and trucks piled to both sides of the road. On one side some trees have collapsed on top of the vehicles, covering them with their branches.

Despite my uneasy feeling, I don’t see anything that immediately stands out as dangerous. I could try to circle around, but that means back tracking for some distance and then traveling through the woods, which is arguably much more dangerous and would waste hours of my time.

Deciding to risk it, I slowly start to walk forward, drawing my knife and holding it in a reverse grip.

With each step I grow closer to the mess of vehicles and trees. My eyes never leave it as I approach.

By the time I am about a hundred yards away I can hear the muffled noises of something coming from within the trees. Something had most likely made a nest out of this mess, the toppled trees acting as a perfect roof for a makeshift home.

Resolving to try and sneak past the nest without disturbing them, I get down into a low stance and move to hide behind vehicles. Moving from car to truck, to flipped over semi, I quickly and quietly cover the remaining distance to the nest.

Now much closer to it, I can more clearly hear the noises coming from within. They are guttural calls and growls, sounds made with shrill and rough voices. Clearly not human.

Sneaking closer, always making sure to have at least some layer of cover, I am hit by the odor that is radiating from the nest. It is a sour kind of smell. The sort that speaks of months of unwashed bodies and rotting food. The sort of odor that you don’t just smell but can also taste.

“Uhg,” Fighting back a gag, I cover my face with hand while I try not to throw up. The smell is almost as bad as that black filth that I woke up covered in a couple of days ago.

Ehh, absolutely disgusting! I know what this is, it’s a freaking gob…

‘Clang! DInnng cliung…’

My thoughts are interrupted as the noise of clanging metal rings out behind me.

Spinning around on the spot, I see a small figure clamber up from its spot in the passenger seat of the car parked behind me. Groggily shaking its head, having apparently just woken from a nap, the creature bends down and picks up the muffler that it had dropped, probably a makeshift bludgeon.

With groggy eyes the little being looks around and takes in its surroundings until its eyes fall on me.

Jolting up with surprise it lets out a cry, “Greguurk, hak jajakuuuurk!”

Is it the sentry of the nest? Probably fell asleep while on guard duty after it found a comfy spot. I seriously wonder how these things are still alive when we humans are getting whiped out.

After making an absolute racket and alerting the nest, the little monster, no, the goblin, clambers its way out through the passenger window and then jumps out at me, swinging its makeshift weapon around while charging at me.

I just stare at it and watch as I get up from my crouched position.

With the promise of violence in its eyes and a bunch of nonsensical screaming, the goblin swings it muffler turned weapon at my torso.

Reaching out with my free hand I catch the end of the muffler and hold it there. Not even moving, I just stand there and continue to stare at this little thing as it screams incoherently at me and tries to pull its mighty weapon away from me.

I don’t budge.

Seriously, this has to be some kind of sick joke. Even with my new shortness, these things are still half my size. It’s like I’m being attacked by a pissed off toddler.

With all of the monsters and mutated creatures to worry about, these little things, these goblins, are basically nothing more than a nuisance. A child with a baseball bat could take a whole troop of them and walk away with scratches. They are that disappointing.

Of course, this is by far much more preferable to some fantasy stories' versions of goblins, but still. They are just so disappointing.

The sense of danger that I was feeling had at some point gone away, probably feeling embarrassed for itself in some corner of my mind.

Completely ignoring the absolute ruckus that is going on behind me, I wretch the muffler out of the little goblin’s hands.

With much anger and righteous indignation at being disarmed, the goblin draws its little nubby claws and bears its ugly yellow and black teeth before jumping at me.

Not bothering to dodge, I simply swing my left leg and kick it in the side while it’s in midair. Its little body folds awkwardly and with a crunch and a crack, its body goes soaring off to the side before crashing into a truck.

The broken goblin doesn’t move.

My eyes open wide in surprise. I didn’t think I kicked it that hard! I just wanted to knock it away.

This isn’t my first time running into these little vermin, nor is it the first time that I’ve kicked one for being annoying. But never could I just casually kill one with zero effort. Just how much stronger am I now?! I really need to figure this stuff out before I go and accidentally hurt somebody.

By now the ruckus behind me is growing to a level that is very hard to ignore. Turning around I watch as dozens of goblins come pouring out of their nest. Ten, twenty, thirty, and eventually stopping just shy of forty, the nasty little creatures emerge.

Back when I was still human, the most goblins I had to fight was about a dozen. A regular troop. They were accosting my father and I; trying to steal our catches from the traps we had set. At first, I had tried to scare them off, but after about two hours of them following us around and bothering us, I lost my temper and used a tree branch to beat the shit out of them. After killing a few of them, the rest finally scattered.

Now I have almost forty of them giving me the stink eye and kicking up an absolute racket.

Putting away my knife, I flip the stolen muffler around and wielding it by its narrow end, I brandish it and make it clear to them that I am armed and dangerous. Trying to dissuade them from attacking me.

This apparently just makes them angrier as they start throwing stuff at me.

Sticks, small rocks, random junk, and even some shit…

Jumping to the side I dodge the stinking projectile as fast as I can, “Oi, you little fucker! Don’t go throwing shit at me! Do you have any idea how little clothing I have left!? I’ll bash your skull in!”

Shouting at them raises them into an absolute fury. Taking a few more steps to make some distance from their nest, a bunch of them come running out to attack me. Probably mistaking my retreat as some sign of weakness or something.

I would have much preferred to just walk past and leave them be, but now they are attacking me. I’m not so soft as to spare some goblins just because they are idiots, as the first one reaches me, I bring down the muffler and smash in its head just as I had promised.

Quite literally smash its head. Blood, brain matter and bits of bone go flying in every direction. The body of the goblin simply crumbles under my blow like a crushed soda can and the muffler gains a new dent.

Utterly surprised by the strength of my blow, I fail to react in time as one of the other goblins jumps onto me, latching onto my right arm, and tries to sink its teeth into my shoulder.

Knocked out of my surprise by the sudden contact, I reach over and rip the little bastard off my arm. With a loud tearing rip of fabric, the goblin is pulled away from my shoulder with a mouthful of my shirt.

I just look at the little fucker being held by the scruff of its neck. Even being captured by me, it still noisily munches away at its mouth full of shirt.

I lose my temper and anger floods my mind.

My eye twitches and I snap, “Oi! Oi, Oi, Oi! You little bastard!” I scream into its nasty little face, “I only have two shirts right now you little fucker! Don’t go destroying my clothes!”

Absolutely enraged, I hold the little deviant in my left hand by the neck and swing it around as a bludgeon. With goblin in my left and muffler in my right I walk forward and mow down any goblin that gets in my way. Every step bringing me closer to their smelly nest and sending a fresh corpse flying away from me.

The goblins, realizing that I am targeting their home start to swarm at me, retreat no longer an option.

A blow to the left, a strike to the right, a downward strike to crush a goblin in front of me followed by a kick that sends another flying. With each step forward I throw out another blow and goblins are sent flying. Often being sent right into their waiting comrades behind them, their small bodies being made into makeshift projectiles.

With another swing the corpse in my left hand becomes little more than ruined meat and broken bone, with a second the muffler in my right becomes a barely recognizable twisted piece of metal.

Throwing the corpse into the oncoming crowd, I stab the ruined remains of the muffler into the chest of another goblin. Now without my weapons I glance around and find the open door of a sedan. Moving over to it, kicking and throwing goblins out of my way, I grab onto the door with both hands. Planting a foot onto the side of the car, I pull back and with an angry roar, wretch the door from its frame with the pained cries of twisting metal and ripping plastic.

Not stopping my motion from removing the door, I spin on the spot and slam the side of the door into a group of oncoming goblins. With a sickening crunch five goblins are lifted off their feet as they are carried into the side of the sedan and crushed beneath the door, partially lifting the car off its wheels from the force of the blow.

With a wet squelch and a sucking noise of liquids being pulled apart, I pull my new weapon back off the side of the car. Turning back to the remaining goblins, I see that what used to be about thirty some goblins had now been reduced to a mere seven quivering creatures surrounded on all sides by the broken remains of their mates.

With abject fear in their eyes, they stumble back away from me as they gaze upon me.

Taking a step forward, they all move back further.

Raising the door above my head and then slamming it down to the ground, I spread out both of my arms and yell, “Come on you little shits, come at me!”

Pulling back and tripping over themselves, the remaining goblins flee back into their nest as fast as their little legs will carry them, screaming with ‘gurks’ and ‘greirks’ all the way until they are diving under cars and tree branches.

Standing there with my arms still spread, I watch the nest for a long while until I’m certain that they won’t be coming out. Getting my breath back under control, I lower my arms and then take in my surroundings.

Everywhere I look is broken and battered bodies, puddles of blood, and dented vehicles with shattered glass.

I really made a mess, holy shit...

My anger starts to drop and my mood with it as I realize what I just did.

Looking down at myself, my mood immediately plummets even further. My clothes are torn up, and my skin and hair are all splattered with blood and what is probably brains.

Oh, what the hell?! Why?

Depressed with being covered in monster blood yet again for the second time in one week, I try to wipe some of it off with my already filthy hands. Flicking off a piece of fat or something that is sticking to my arm.

Aha, so fucking gross. These clothes are ruined! Gods I hope I find a river or something soon, I Need to wash this all off!

Completely dejected and smelling horrendous, I turn away from the goblin nest and continue my march south.

Now I am even more desperate to find some new clothing.

-Grigut-

Shaking in their nest, the goblins hold each other as they wait for the Demon to break in through the walls of their nest. Huddled up as far as they can into the depths of fallen tree branches and the Soft Hard Homes as they can, the remaining seven goblins watch and wait for anything to happen.

For the longest time, there is no noise. No busted down walls and shattering wood.

The goblins are certain that their nest would not be able to keep out the Demon. Its power and strength far surpass that of any gob they know. It could break through wood and bend and rip the shiny cold wood of this new world with its bare hands.

Just as easily as It could crush any gob.

Their deaths would be fast and violent, fighting back was not an option.

They continue to wait and wait, holding each other tightly.

The light of the Sky God fades, but still they hide.

Is It waiting for them to leave? Not wanting to break their wonderful nest so It can take it for Itself?

Grigut, not a true name but simply the noise he makes most often, is the biggest and strongest of the remaining gobs. Working up his courage Grigut slowly moves away from the huddle of cowering gobs and approaches the exit to the nest.

After taking a few steps he is stopped as a small hand grabs his. Looking back Grigut sees Graget holding him back.

The small female is shaking her head quickly back and forth, softly calling out with a series of grunts that mean nothing but still translate her fear clearly, “Don’t go, the Demon will kill you!”

Removing her small hand from his, Grigut slowly shakes his head. Pushing the small female back into the group of worried gobs, Grigut turns and shows his back to his fellow gobs, with a single ‘grigut’ he tells them “This is something I have to do!”

Walking forth with determination and much fear, the brave little goblin slowly makes his way to the exit.

The last glow of the Sky God’s grace shines in through the gaps of the tree branches. Drawing near, Grigut peers through the gaps to see if he can spy the Demon. Looking around from every spot he could, he can’t seem to find It anywhere.

Is It hiding? Waiting in ambush for when we come out?

Deeply breathing in, Grigut tastes the air. All he can smell is the scent of blood, the arrival of the Sky Water, and the precious smell of home. Of his fellow gobs.

Swallowing his fears, Grigut climbs out of the nest. If the Demon is still out here, then it will be Grigut that will die. But if he can distract it for even a moment, then surely the rest of his tribe mates will be able to run away.

With shaking legs and head on a swivel, the goblin walks forward. With slow steps he finally reaches the sight of the battle.

Corpses of his fellow gobs litter the floor in broken piles of twisted limbs and shattered bones. Several bodies are twisted together in a final embrace, having collided with each other after being hit by one of the Demon’s powerful blows.

Ripping his eyes away from the corpses of his tribe mates, Grigut clambers and climbs on top of a Soft Hard Home, he needs to find the Demon.

From his new vantage point Grigut looks all about, but no matter how hard he looks he cannot spot the Demon. No sight of Its no-light skin, no whisper of Its hair and claws that are darker than the dark times, no clue of Its horns that point ever upward in mockery of the Sky God, no signs of Its tail that slithers like the mighty snake that ate Jrut’Grut many dark times ago.

The Demon is gone. It had left, for what reason Grigut could not possibly understand. None of the bodies were eaten or taken, the gobs nest has not been taken. Why would the Demon, with all of its wrath, all of Its power, not stay?

Grigut did not possess the necessary intelligence to learn the answers to such questions. He is a goblin.

What he could understand was that the Demon, the horrible and all powerful being that even his entire tribe fighting together could not face, had left.

His tribe will get to survive, they will get to keep their wonderful nest with its wonderful Soft Hard Homes.

Raising his arms above his head, Grigut cries out and cheers, screaming his little voice harsh as he celebrates his tribe’s survival.

That is until he looks back down.

From up high, he can see the battlefield where his mates fought and bled to protect the nest. So many fellow gobs dead. Their lives given to hold off an unstoppable force of death.

Holding his hands close to his chest, Grigut looks over the bodies of the fallen. Emotions that he can barely even begin to understand floods his heart.

So many gobs dead.

Fear, pain, regret, anguish and sorrow fill him, mixing into something deeper. Darker.

Anger, hatred, a desire for revenge.

Something that Grigut has never felt before in his short life. He had felt fear for the great snake, but it was a predator, it kills to eat and quite frankly Jrut’Grut was an idiot.

But the Demon? It simply rampaged, it destroyed, and it killed. It wielded its power with rage and slaughtered the gobs.

For the first time Grigut touches upon the vestiges of true thought, not of the instinct and emotion that had compelled his actions through life, but true thought born of the individual. Grigut wants revenge.

With no language to form these thoughts, Grigut ‘thinks’ with the words of his heart.

I want revenge!

….

But I am weak...

….

I need strength!

I need become strong!

To kill!

To protect!

To get revenge!

I must become strong like the Demon!

I must become a Demon!

Jumping down from the Soft Hard Home, Grigut marches through the blood of his mates. Their fallen blood sticking to the bottom of his clawed feet with every step.

Slowly he reaches down and fills his hands with blood. Dragging them across his skin and face, Grigut paints his little green body red with the blood of the fallen.

Reaching forward Grigut firmly grabs onto the discarded weapon of the Demon. The very weapon that crushed five of his brothers with a single swing.

Anger and range flows through Grigut’s blood and bones as he fights to lift the Demon’s heavy and unholy weapon above his head.

With both weapon and body, red with the blood of brothers and sisters, Grigut calls out with all the force of his very being.

“Grigut! Gra Ju GRAAint AHHHHGG!”

Swinging the mighty weapon down, Grigut hits the ground with more force than his little body had ever held. A mighty sound rings out as His weapon slams against the floor.

Breathing heavily and sweating profusely, Grigut looks up to see His nest. The other gobs had gathered to watch.

With wide eyes they gaze upon Grigut. One after another, compelled forward by emotion and instinct that they will never truly be able understand, the gobs begin to cheer.

Slamming whatever they can hold against the ground the gobs cry out, “Grigut, Grigut, Grigut...!”

Standing tall, Grigut holds His weapon and looks upon His gobs, no, His people.

I WILL become strong!

I WILL protect!

I WILL HAVE MY REVENGE!

Turning from His people, Grigut looks south. There He will find His revenge. But first, He must become strong.

On this day, the First Goblin King is born.