Instinctively, Tyler took a step back from the advancing creature — if one could call it that. It looked more like a viscous blob of clear gelatine. You could see right through it, although the image on the other side was distorted, as if you were looking through a pair of glasses that were totally the wrong prescription.
The creature advanced, its form changing, elongating and flattening. Each time, a loud, flat slap as it made contact with the ground. Tyler took another step back, then another, without noticing he was now running back towards his lab. He jumped through the doorway, over the small raised footsill of the door. The creature’s form struck at his trailing leg and caught his boot.
The rubber on the sole hissed and smouldered where it had penetrated the creature’s form. It had only been for a second, but the damage was visible. This creature was dangerous, made from some sort of corrosive substance contained by some inert, malleable shell.
What was left of his lab door flung shut, giving him a moment of temporary relief from the oncoming attacker.
“Al!” he shouted in his mind and out loud at the same time, panic shredding his words. “WHAT IS THAT?!”
Al sounded delighted, as if he had just spotted a friend and wanted to introduce them to everybody.
“Oh! That’s a squelchy!”
“A what?!”
“A squelchy! Very common! Very easy! Very—”
“It’s coming for me!”
“Yes!” Al chirped. “They do that! They like warm things! Like hugs!”
“Hugs?!” Tyler skidded around the corner of the lab entrance, heart trying to escape his ribs. “That’s not a hug!”
“It’s a hug if it doesn’t eat you. Sometimes they don’t! It depends on your… wiggle!”
The squelchy pushed through the gaps around the door, covering its entire surface. The door darkened, turning a green-black before bubbling and dripping out of the creature into a hissing puddle on the floor. With the door now gone, the creature filled the doorway, waited a second, then started its advance, that slow, heavy slap filling the entire lab.
Tyler burst back inside the lab, slamming into a vine curtain, tearing through it. He stumbled over a fallen chair and barely caught himself on a workbench.
Tyler was trapped as he headed further into his lab, scanning the area, quickly pulling at vines to see if he could find anything to use as a weapon — anything to defend himself. His gaze landed on a metal bar, one of the old support braces from a dismantled rig. Half-covered in moss, but still solid.
He grabbed it with both hands, yanking it free. It came loose with a wet pop, roots snapping. It felt clumsy in his hands. It was angled at ninety degrees, a corner brace, a little over a metre long. He would have preferred something round, something he could grip better, but at least he could try and hold it at a distance with this.
The squelchy advanced, now only a few metres away, the only thing between them a few overturned office chairs half-buried in the green and brown of nature. Tyler lifted the bar, his hands shaking — not through fear, although there was a little of that, he was sure, but more from pure adrenaline.
The squelchy slowed opposite him. Its eye clusters… pulsed? He could swear they pulsed — fixing on him with awful certainty. It was sizing him up, weighing him, deciding if he was acceptable prey.
“Al. You said easy.”
“It is easy!” Al insisted. “You just—”
The squelchy surged. Not in the same way it had moved when chasing Tyler. Here it stayed rooted to the ground, its top half elongating and darting forward like a lance, straight towards Tyler.
Tyler swung his bar without thinking, the action sending him to the left and out of the way of the attack. The long, spear-like form of the squelchy passed by, inches from his chest. His swing was too late to stop the attack, but made contact with the creature as its form drew back. The bar hit its surface with a dull thud, like striking a bag of jelly.
The creature’s flesh rippled violently as the bar sliced right through. A spray of clear fluid splattered the bench and Tyler’s hands. The smell hit him like rancid pond water. Part of the squelchy that had been cut away fell without form to the floor, soaking the ground beneath and turning it brown.
Tyler gagged at the putrid smell, each cough sending him stumbling back as he tried to keep his focus on the creature. Luckily the squelchy had recoiled from the attack, pulling the remainder of its form back into itself.
The squelchy seemed to roar within itself, its clear visage taking on a more dull, hazy appearance now, with specks of amber and orange. Its eyes moved close together and narrowed, each one fixed on Tyler.
“Shit! I THINK I ONLY MADE THE THING ANGRIER!”
Tyler didn’t wait for the next attack and went on the offensive, running forward and swinging the bar down overhead, the awkward angle of it digging into his palms. He aimed for the cluster of eyes, striking one with the corner of the bar.
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The bar sank into it slightly before bouncing off as if he had hit something hard. The eye burst like a grape and a high-pitched sound came from the creature — not a roar, but a wet squeal that vibrated in Tyler’s head, making his teeth hurt.
Tyler stepped backwards, adjusting his makeshift weapon in his hands to get a better grip. He slipped on the rotten foliage, almost falling to the floor, his momentary flash of confidence disappearing. One wrong move here and he could be that dark puddle dissolving underneath.
The squelchy changed tactics and lunged its whole self forward, its mass rolling, trying to engulf him. It had decided to take the attack head-on, but at the same time envelop Tyler, ending the fight instantly.
Tyler threw himself sideways, slamming into a shelf. Glass vials toppled, shattering, the smell of old chemicals mixing with rot. The shelf came crashing down as he rolled awkwardly over it, sharp corners digging into his sides and the back of his legs. The pain only flared briefly as he scrambled to his feet.
This wasn’t a game. This wasn’t a monster with hit points and predictable attack patterns. It seemed intelligent. Biological. There must be some way he could use this to his advantage. Everything had weak points.
“Al! Help!”
“I am helping! Hit it in the tail!”
“It doesn’t have a tail!”
“Everything has a tail! It’s the bit that’s not the head!”
“It doesn’t have a head either!”
“Then pick one! You’re being difficult!”
Tyler’s mind raced as he tried to make more distance between the squelchy and himself. But the squelchy just seemed to pass through most objects, leaving them slightly dissolved in its wake. Escape looked risky — he’d have to pass too close. He looked up at the ceiling, at the large open area. Could he get through there? Could the squelchy follow?
He traced the vines hanging down and mixed between them at the bottom he saw cabling mixed in between them. They were still attached to the ceiling rig, and it had power.
An idea sparked — not good, not elegant, but something he could work with. He manoeuvred toward the rig, making swings with his bar, threatening the squelchy’s openings for attacks. It still followed, sliding over debris, flattening moss as it moved.
With his back against the rig, he held the bar in one hand, straining to keep it upright, while he grabbed behind him and took hold of the power cable. Jabbing the bar like a spear — not to kill, just to keep distance — the creature advanced. The pole sank into its flesh slightly, then slid free. The creature quivered, fluid dribbling from the wound.
It surged again. Tyler ducked and rolled backward over the rigging, the power cable in his hand ripping free as it pulled against the metal of the rigging.
Tyler ducked beneath the hanging cable. It wrapped over the creature’s top, biting into the soft mass. The squelchy jerked, confused, trying to push forward, but the cable snagged on itself.
“YES!” Al screamed delightedly. “You made it wear a belt!”
“It’s not a—” Tyler grunted, yanking the cable down with both hands. It tightened across the squelchy’s surface, cutting into the flesh. The creature squealed wetly. He hauled harder, dragging it under the ceiling rig where the cable ran through a pulley mount.
The pulley creaked and Tyler noticed the creature. The cable was pulling straight through it. Luckily it was moving slow and the plastic casing on the cable was resisting the corrosive nature of the squelchy.
Tyler’s eyes locked on the control panel beside it — half-buried in vines but still there. A red lever that used to adjust the rig height. Without much thought he hit the lever. The rig whined and came to life, pulling up and dragging vines and the now-embedded power lead with it. The squelchy was dragged with it, as the cable pulled it, all the while still slipping through it.
The squelchy attacked again, a smaller spear darting from its form. Tyler reacted too slow and it grazed against his shoulder, burning away his T-shirt where it hit and melting the skin underneath. The force sent him tumbling to the floor, the pain hot and blistering as he tried to roll away and get some distance.
As he lifted himself up, so did the rig, pulling everything from the floor. Vines and dirt hung from the bottom, and a cable, sparks flying at the end. The end of the power cable — probably for the actuator, he thought. Then he shook his head and grabbed it, a smile forming on his lips.
He ran under the hanging squelchy, holding the cable like a whip, the creature’s eyes tracking him all the time. Small spear-like shots fired towards him, but he dodged more easily now the creature was restricted. As he got closer he leaped and slammed the exposed end of the cable into one of the bulging eye clusters.
The effect was immediate. The squelchy convulsed violently, as if every cell had been told at once that it was no longer welcome. Its surface flashed — faintly, briefly — with lines like cracks in ice. It made a sound, no longer wet but as if something was crusting over.
The creature’s mass collapsed in on itself, folding, shrinking, draining as if its structure had lost permission to exist. It hit the floor with a heavy slap and then… slid apart, becoming a puddle of translucent gel and scattered eye-pebbles that rolled uselessly across concrete and grass.
Tyler stumbled backward, panting hard enough to feel dizzy. He stared for a moment, not really thinking of anything, just letting the events soak in. The lab was silent again except for his breathing and the faint drip of fluid from the rig.
“That,” he rasped, “was not easy.”
“It was easy. You just did it the scary way.”
Tyler barked out something between a laugh and a sob.
Then text arrived.
TARGET TERMINATED: MYXID AGGREGANT (JUVENILE)
EXPERIENCE GAINED: 10
TOTAL EXPERIENCE: 25 / 100
LEVEL: 1
Tyler stared at the invisible words as if he could punch them.
“What the hell is this?” he whispered.
Al was practically vibrating with glee.
“SEE?!” he cried. “YOU DID A KILL AND THE NUMBERS CLAPPED! I LOVE WHEN THEY CLAP!”
Tyler swallowed, eyes fixed on the puddle that had been a living thing a moment ago.
He looked at his hands, streaked with dirt and blood where the bar had dug in. He was alive after being attacked by some bizarre creature out of some sci-fi horror movie. And it seemed the universe had given him a few points, like that made any of it okay.
He exhaled slowly, calming himself down. The last twenty-four hours had been eventful, to say the least.
Outside, something moved in the grass again — farther this time, a ripple like a wave.
Tyler grabbed his metal bar and gripped it tight, his knuckles turning white.
“Al,” he said quietly, voice shaking despite his effort to steady it, “integration starts in twenty-four hours.”
“Yes! It’s going to be very busy! Like a party!”
Tyler stared toward the doorway, toward the wild world beyond.
“What happens when it starts?”
Al went quiet. And for a beat, Tyler thought his insane AI wouldn’t answer.
Then Al whispered, with childlike awe and a tremor of fear:
“Then everyone gets their hat.”
Another message slid into Tyler’s awareness, almost gentle in its certainty.
NEXT LEVEL: 2
EXPERIENCE REQUIRED: 75
Tyler swallowed hard. He didn’t understand what had happened to Earth, or where his friends were. Hell, he didn’t even understand the rules, and something had just tried to eat him in his own lab and the system had called it juvenile.
He stared into the overgrown doorway for a long moment and felt a cold, practical thought settle into place:
If that was a juvenile… what the hell else is out there?
