CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

In his long and danger-filled life, the creature known as Stranger had seen many things. He had fought with hundreds of Outlaws, battled fiercely against hundreds of Wolvarks, with either Clakkerz or Grubbs as his allies, with double-barreled crossbow in hand. He had seen beings go insane, and he had nearly gone insane himself from all the sometimes gory violence he had contributed to Oddworld. He had watched creatures fall from cliffs, drown, puke their bowels out, fall onto beds of spikes, get ground up by viciously indiscriminating meat grinders and fan blades, and so many other ways he could not count.

But he had never expected, in all those experiences, that he would ever get the chance to meet – and fight, and capture – the famous Mudokon Freedom Fighter known as Abe.

Now, as he sat on the cold, hard ground of Glukksonia across from Urchyn McAvi – who was, ironically, a Wolvark – with his enormous crossbow at his side and hat tipped down over his eyes, he stared down at the stunned forms of the five Mudokons he and McAvi had collected. Abe, recognizable by his blue skin and strangely orange eyes, along with a collection of totally un-Mudokon battle scars and some totally Mudokon tattoos, lay there in a crumpled heap with both big hands wrapped around his head where that last Zappfly had struck him.

How could one Mudokon get such a big reputation? he wondered. All that’s different about him is his skin…

That was when he realized a profound truth: there are a lot more differences than just the color of beings’ skin. Hearts and minds are all different, preferences are different…

He glanced darkly at McAvi. Even their evil rates were different.

“Tomorrow,” Stranger said, “we go doubletime…for Mantin City. I don’t want this…Mudokon on hand…any longer than I…have to.”

McAvi snorted. “What, is the great Stranger scared?”

“No,” the Steef growled. “just…cautious. And so should you. After all…this is Abe we’re talking about….You know his reputation.”

“Reputations aren’t the real thing,” the Wolvark reminded sourly. “And we bounty hunters are tougher than Glukkons and their wimpy Sligs.”

Stranger shrugged his huge shoulders. “I know….But there’s no harm…in being cautious.”

Deciding to end the conversation there, he leaned up against a rock. He and McAvi both knew they wouldn’t be getting any sleep that night, nor as long as they stayed together. No bounty hunter was worthy of trust, not even their own; as long as they stayed together, they were at risk of knifing each other in their sleep.

Stranger smiled coolly. This was the way of life he knew best. Maybe he’d go back to the Grubbs someday…but for now, this was the life he led.

* * *

CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

Cloud the Slig stumbled into a dusty town somewhere at the border of Glukksonia. Not only was his throat parched from lack of water, his energy packs were getting depleted from all his stumbling; so far, his infrared visor was still working, but the power in his mechanical pants was going down by the minute.

Thus, he was mad with pleasure as soon as he saw the gathering of square industrialist buildings, and smelled the wonderful aroma of smog filling the air, because that meant there would be outlets where he could recharge, and an airship he could take to Mantin City, to warn Glok of Fragg's treachery!

The Slig scanned the other Sligs and Glukkons weaving in and around the buildings on their daily routines. “Water!” he screeched hoarsely, injuring his throat with every syllable. “Water!”

The village’s inhabitants turned and looked up at him, seemingly surprised that he would even dare to come in looking that way. “Whatcha want here?” one Slig asked.

“WATER!” Cloud practically screamed at them.

The Slig pointed to a nearby house. “There’s a spigot over –”

Cloud didn’t wait to listen to the rest of the sentence. Instead, he hurried to the spigot, which was dripping softly, his tentacles going wide with joy. He threw himself flat under the spigot, twisting the handle to pour life-giving water into the tips of his tentacles, which immediately absorbed the water and sent its moisture to the parts of his body that needed it most.

He could tell, out of the corner of his visor, that the other Sligs and Glukkon townspeople were staring at him kinda funny, but he ignored them. He kept his full concentration on getting this sweet-tasting water. It felt better now than it ever had before.

Once he’d drank his fill – which took some time, since he was so parched – he pushed himself roughly to his feet. He glanced from one Slig to another, looking for one that seemed friendly. “You people got an airship in town?”

The Slig he had spoken to cocked his head on one side. “Are you injured, boy? Taken any head wounds lately?”

Cloud felt perplexed. “What do you mean by that?”

“You act…a little strange.” The Slig folded his arms across his chest. “An’ where’s yer boss?”

Cloud grinned. “You know my boss?”

“No, I’m askin’ where he is.”

“He’s, uh…” Cloud indicated the direction from which he’d come. “He’s over that way. Why do you ask that?”

The Slig narrowed his eyes. “If you don’t even know where your boss is, you have to be a rogue Slig.” He slid a small pistol out of a holster that Cloud hadn’t even noticed. “And we don’t like rogue Sligs here in Bodhran.”

* * *

CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

Stranger could remember better than most beings on Oddworld, especially better than the always-forgetful Mudokons. He could remember every one of those last bounties – Blisterz Booty, Filthy Hands Floyd, the Looten Duke, and many others – but none had left such an impression in him as the time he had crossed trails with bounty hunter D. Caste Raider.

The thought of Raider made him grit his teeth.

Not only had the big, tough outlaw stripped him of much of his gear, Raider had discovered his Steef identity, ruining Stranger’s bounty hunter career, and then had ordered his “boys” to skin Stranger alive to collect the bounty from Sekto. Then the Grubbs had set him free, and he had started his great vendetta against Sekto.

He sighed. That had been a long time ago. Not many people had come to him for bounties since that encounter…and it was all D. Caste Raider’s fault in the end. If he had just told Sekto to shut up, and ignored the bounty…

But would Stranger himself have done anything better? Would the Steef have rejected such a prospect - $20,000? No, he knew, but that didn’t excuse Raider for his crimes. Stranger had never cared that much about the process of right and wrong, since it was so complicated, but in the end, he had to say what Raider had done was wrong.

It was wrong because it had been done to him. If it had been done to Raider, it would be perfectly acceptable to Stranger.

He decided that, after they turned Abe in for the bounty, and he had his cash, he was going to go back to Raider’s hideout. He had left the Outlaw on fire; he didn’t know if his enemy had been killed by the explosions in the building, or if the wily bruiser had managed to get away.

The Steef clenched his fists and jaw; if Raider had escaped, it wouldn’t be so any longer.

* * *

Sorry, short chapter I know.

CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

Abe blinked his eyes open…and he groaned.

“What hit me?” he said, even before he could make sense of the blur that was the world.

“I shot you...with a Zappfly,” a guttural voice said from somewhere beside him. Beside him and under.

That was when Abe noticed the world was bouncing. That explained why he felt so dizzy…but why did he feel so dizzy? Why was the world bouncing under him?

Then the world went back into full clarity, and he realized that whoever had answered his question was also carrying him, strewn across his shoulder, and that this being was moving at a fair clip across cracked, dry ground. The air smelled faintly of smog.

So that Steef that had shot him was carrying him across Glukksonia, most likely to collect whatever bounty the Glukkons had placed on his head. In all his adventures, Abe had been captured many times, but he couldn’t recall the last time it had happened. The encounter with Molluck back in RuptureFarms he remembered as if it had just happened yesterday, but the others just seemed to run together…

“Where are you taking me?” he asked.

“Mantin City, to…King Glok.”

He licked the edges of his mouth. “Why?”

“There’s…a lot of moolah…on your head, Mudokon,” the Steef replied. “And I aim…to get plenty of it.”

Abe’s frown deepened. He didn’t feel strong enough to get out of this Steef’s iron grip, nor did he intend to meet his end by being thrown into a cell in Mantin City. He wanted to get to Mantin City to destroy Glok, but not imprisoned and then executed. He would have to be patient.

He glanced down the Steef’s back, at the faded poncho the bounty hunter was wearing. There was a large bag hanging behind his waist, and Abe could hear small animalistic squeaks coming from the bag. The hunter had said Zappflies…that meant this was one of those natural-critter-using guys. That meant there might be Fuzzles…

The thought of setting Fuzzles on the Steef and then running for the hills seemed like a good idea. He slowly began moving his hand, slowly enough that the Steef wouldn’t notice, down toward the ammo bag.

At the sound of a second set of footsteps close behind him, Abe looked over his shoulder. He was surprised to see the same Wolvark bounty hunter that had attacked him at the gorge only a few feet away from his face.

“How do you like the life of a prisoner?” the gruff Wolvark laughed.

Abe gritted his teeth. “What have you done with my friends, beast?”

The bounty hunter shrugged. “Dumped ’em whenever we picked you up. I don’t need them; there was no bounty on ’em.”

Abe spat distastefully. “I’ll escape, Wolvark. And when I do, I’m going to blow your brains out…and laugh about it.”

“I don’t think so.” The Wolvark shook his head, and curled one hand into a fist. Before Abe could even say Uh-oh, that fist had smacked him in the face and sent him back into the realm of unconsciousness.

* * *

CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

Cloud would have raised both his eyebrows, if he’d only had eyebrows. As it was, he had to settle for a disbelieving gape. “You…you think I’m a rogue?” he spluttered.

The Slig chuckled darkly. “What else would you be – you’re dusty, dirty, and you have a hard time rememberin’ where yer boss is. That means you gotta be a rogue.”

He clicked back the cock on his pistol. “Now put yer hands on top of yer head.”

Cloud sighed, but he complied. He could see other Sligs drawing similar pistols from holsters all over their bodies, and he instinctively knew getting out of this one would not be easy. Why did they all have to ignore him, when he was in a hurry to get to the capital? If King Glok was killed because he took to long with the warning…

“Hey, look,” he protested, as a Slig came forward with a pair of handcuffs. “I may not be the fastest thinker on Oddworld –”

“If you was a faster thinker,” one fellow growled, “you would’ve stayed outta our town.”

“Yeah,” Cloud growled. “I would have.”

The one with the cuffs clicked them around his wrists. The deserter flinched at the cold feel of the restraining metal; he’d never been convicted of a crime before, except for the occasional “stupidity badge.” Why did his luck have to go against him now?

“You can look at my Info Pad,” he sighed. “I’m Cloud, Designation Worker-Class-Slig-No. 3221.”

The first Slig he had spoken to tipped his head sideways. “Really?”

“Yeah, look me over.”

The one Slig – who seemed to be someone of importance in Bodhran – gave a little wave to the one who had just cuffed Cloud. “Hey, Frizzl, check him over.”

“Right away, Crak.”

Cloud stayed still and patient as Frizzl ran his hands around his body. The search turned up Cloud’s extra pocket comlink, his Info Pad, area scanner, and a fragmentation grenade he had been saving just in case they got into a tight situation.

Crak came walking over, his beady eyes narrowed. “Whatcha find, Frizzl?”

The one who had inspected Cloud was too busy punching commands into the Info Pad to reply, but a moment later he grunted. “Huh…this pad says he really is a soldier.”

“Here, gimme that.” Without waiting for Frizzl to comply, Crak snatched the Info Pad and glared down at the screen. Cloud watched patiently, waiting for the rough Slig leader to finish his examination.

After a minute, Crak powered down the Info Pad and passed it back to Frizzl. “Hmm. Looks as if we have a deserter on our hands.”

Cloud suddenly felt a whole lot worse. “Deserter?” he gasped, pretending to be surprised. He’d forgotten all about the implications of being a deserter in the Slig Army. “Why do you think that?”

Crak indicated the Info Pad. “If you really are a soldier, you’re out here without yer boss, Lord Fragg, an’ there’s no assignments written down in yer pad. A good soldier always writes down his assignments for the record.”

The gruff Slig suddenly brought his pistol back up from wherever he’d been hiding it. “An’, as you know, we don’t like deserters. We shoot ’em.”

Crak smiled. “Frizzl, get together the firin’ squad. Time to teach some o’ the boys a lesson about loyalty to one’s cause.”

Cloud found he couldn’t even swallow, and his throat was too dry to say “Oops…” Instead, he just bowed his head. At least it really wasn’t his fault he had failed King Glok.

* * *

CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

Humphrey III watched King Glok through shaded eyes. The Glukkon King had begun to act strangely of late, ever since that strange creature had come to Mantin City with his warning of Abe’s imminent attack. The king was in a state that could only be labeled “paranoid,” and it didn’t help Humphrey’s trust for the non-smoking Glukkon.

Why should they trust that strange thing that called himself the Bringer of Pain? Who would find the need to trust him – even if he could fire lightning bolts that would turn Snoozers to scrap? After the Bringer of Pain left, they could just go about their normal business, and trust to the rest of their Snoozers to handle Abe!

But that wasn’t enough for Glok, not now that he was paranoid. Humphrey sighed. The Glukkon was bringing back all the BigBros he had sent away to the barracks, returning them to the city to patrol the streets. Glok was always ordering more and more Snoozers off the assembly lines to be posted in his palace, at every corner.

The Vykker shook his head. “Bringing the BigBros back won’t raise his popularity any…and the Snoozers are a bad idea for his health.”

Humphrey smiled, a sight that revolted most of the people around him. In themselves, the Snoozers were a massive addition to the firepower in and around Glok’s palace, because, unlike Sligs, they could not be distracted and had a much longer attention span, and had extra sensors. Their guns were not as powerful, but they tended to be more accurate due to computer tracking.

But with one untrustworthy Vykker – himself – in the mixture, Snoozers weren’t the best thing Glok could have brought into the palace.

Humphrey barely kept himself from sniggering, as he moved toward the throne room doors. They swung open as he neared them, and he boldly moved his way into Glok’s throne room.

Instead of just the three Snoozers, Glok now had ten Snoozers – three in each corner and one patrolling the floor. The Glukkon himself was about on the floor, pacing about with a nervous look on his face.

At Humphrey’s approach, the king turned. “Have the sensors picked up anything resembling Abe?”

The Vykker shook his head. “No, sire…and have you considered taking a stress pill?”

“I’ve taken three in the last twenty minutes,” Glok growled. “And so far, they haven’t helped.”

“Give them time –”

The Glukkon cut him off angrily. “We don’t have any time, Humphrey! If Abe decides to attack –”

Humphrey raised all four of his arms in a placating gesture. “Your majesty, you have more than enough Snoozers to take down any Mudokon that gets past your hundreds of BigBros outside. You’re the best-defended Glukkon on Oddworld right now.”

Glok’s brow tightened. “What do you mean, right now? I’ll always be the best-defended Glukkon on Oddworld!”

“Perhaps…” The Vykker scratched his chin. “But I think I have better defenses than you.”

Glok shook his head slowly. “Explain.”

Humphrey shook his head. “Do I even have to?”

He suddenly spun around. “Snoozers! Take out the cameras!”

Before the Glukkon had time to shout a countercommand, the robots spun their guns around and fired, taking out all the security cameras in the room. Humphrey pointed at Glok. “Neutrali –”

The Glukkon gasped with horror. “But I thought they were my servants!”

Humphrey chuckled darkly. “You should have known better than to let me build the originals.”

He turned away, calmly ordering, “Neutralize him.”

Three Snoozer shots burned through the air, and through Glok’s brain. The Vykker didn’t even turn to watch the ruler of Glukksonia’s body hit the ground; the thud was enough confirmation for him.

He smiled brightly. “Long live the king.”

* * *

Lesson: Never Trust a Vykker

CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE

When Alf opened his eyes, he knew something was wrong. Something had to be – the last thing he remembered of the world was getting hit in the head by something hard and electric, and that was after they had been ambushed out of nowhere by a Steef!

His uncomfortable feeling didn’t get any better when he realized he was lying on top of Lowrn, Grunn, and Ferg, all three of which were still out.

Seconds later, Alf’s pain sense returned to him, and he could feel the lump on the side of his head where one of the Steef’s animal shots had knocked him out a couple hours ago. A glance at the pale sun’s position in the sky confirmed that he had been unconscious for at least one whole night.

Forcing his sore muscles to move, Alf rolled off his three companions and stood up. He dusted off his shorts, popped the cricks out of his back with one enormous stretch, then he reached out with a foot and kicked Grunn.

“C’mon!” he grunted. “No time to lay around!”

Grunn just yawned and returned to his slumber. Lowrn and Ferg, at the bottom of the stack, both came awake together and roughly tossed Grunn off; when he hit the ground, he came awake.

“Hey!” the Mudokon shouted. “What was that for?”

“Get up,” Alf snapped. “That Steef that attacked us – he took Abe with him when he ran.”

Ferg laughed. “That’s ridiculous. Nobody can capture Abe.”

Lowrn said quietly, “Well, apparently that Steef did. What are we going to do about it?”

Ferg grimaced. “I dunno, uh, panic?”

Alf smacked him roughly upside the head. “No, you idiot! We’re going to go after him!”

“How do you think we can follow him?” Grunn demanded, pushing himself up to his feet.

Alf bit his mouth. “I…uh…don’t know…”

Lowrn raised a hand. “Idea, here.”

Alf nodded. “Any idea would be good about now.”

The Mudokon pointed to the clear set of imprinted bootprints leading across the cracked ground of Glukksonia. “How about we follow those?”

Alf laughed. “Lowrn, that’s the best idea I’ve heard all day.”

* * *

CHAPTER SIXTY

Cloud’s hand automatically went down for his gun – and that was when he realized it was missing. He glanced around, and noticed a relatively shiny Barrage 32-A laser carbine that was in one Slig’s hands, most likely Cloud’s.

He went into a duck-and-roll, which was awkward due to the handcuffs still around his wrists. “All I want to do is tell King Glok that Lord Fragg intends to betray him!”

Crak frowned. “What?”

“My boss, Lord Fragg – he wants to invade Mantin City and kill Glok!”

Crak lowered his gun. “I don’t know about that…” He gestured at Cloud. “Frizzl, cover him. I’ll go comm. Mantin City.”

Cloud swallowed hard. He hoped Abe was far enough away that the signal-jamming wouldn’t affect the Bodhran communicators, and he also hoped that these Sligs would listen to him, and that they wouldn’t execute him on false charges.

As Frizzl moved over beside him, holding an old-model Blitz Packer gun, the soldier listened intently to the sounds coming out of the nearby comm. center.

“Yeah, this is Crak in Bodhran,” Crak was saying. “What? Yeah, o’ course it’s important.”

A pause.

Crak went on, “Uh, we got a Slig in town…says he’s from Lord Fragg’s army, but we don’t know any Lord Fragg and we don’t know any army –”

Another pause.

“You don’t say…well, I’ll put him on the line. He says he’s got a message for King Glok, top-importance.”

Cloud breathed out a sigh. At least, if he died, he would still have been able to send his message to Mantin City. Then it would be up to Crak to decide what happened to him.

Crak leaned his head out of the communications building. “Hey, soldier, get in here.”

Cloud took a deep breath, and moved forward into the building. He tried to glance around, but before he could even tell whether the ceiling lights were round or rectangular, Crak grabbed him by the pack of the neck and pointed to the comm. device.

“Talk into that,” Crak ordered roughly. “I’ve got Mantin City online.”

Cloud gulped once, and leaned in close to the speaker. “Uh, hey, this is Cloud…”

“Cloud who?”

The soldier frowned. “Worker-Class Slig Designation Number 3221.”

“Lemme see…ah…hold on for a second…”

Cloud fiddled with his hands, wishing he weren’t standing in the middle of nowhere with his hands cuffed.

“Okay, I gotcha. Whatcha callin’ for?”

“I have an urgent message for King Glok –”

“Sorry, but he was assassinated a few minutes ago. If you have anything else to say, call back later. ‘Bye.”

There was a sharp CLICK from the speaker, and Cloud just stood there, staring in disbelief at the machine.

“King Glok,” he whispered. “Dead?”

“This is a dark day for the empire,” Crak growled roughly.

* * *

“I have no idea how the king died,” Humphrey said, toning his high-pitched voice to sound horrified at the death of the Glukkon leader. “I came into the throne room…and he was dead!”

“You’ve said that several times,” the Glukkon advisor grunted.

Humphrey folded all four arms across his chest. “Well, you obviously don’t believe me.”

The Glukkon shrugged. “I believe you…but who’s going to be king now?” A smile appeared on his face. “Me?”

Humphrey shook his head. “No, I have a better idea.”

“You aren’t in charge here!” the advisor snapped. “I am!”

“We wait for Lord Fragg to get here,” the Vykker said. “And when he does arrive…we make him our king.”

* * *

CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE

The Bringer of Pain smiled to himself. Everything was proceeding as he had hoped it would – Abe had been captured by the two bounty hunters, King Glok had been assassinated by a being he thought he could trust, and Lord Fragg was on his way to becoming the next king of Glukksonia. All of it was perfect.

To some, this information would have seemed monstrous. All these huge events happening in such a short time would have overwhelmed the minds of most beings trying to take over…unless, of course, all those huge events had been in the plan from the beginning, which they were to the Bringer of Pain. He had engineered the whole story from the beginning.

It was amazing how Abe had managed to survive this long by dumb luck alone, because that was the only way the Mudokon could have managed not to be destroyed by the forces of the Dark. And since dumb luck was such an undeterminable ally, since you never knew when its help would be bad or good, it was amazing that that Mudokon had survived just with dumb luck’s help for so many danger-filled years.

But that didn’t bother the Bringer of Pain much. He might be a newcomer to this game of power, but he was by far the most powerful player. He was the one making the rules in this game, and, of course, he was the one with all the points on his side. And yet, no one seemed to take notice that he was dominating the game and wiping out all opposition.

But it was probably better this way; if they noticed he was dominating the game, there would be more fun left because everyone would die quicker, probably by committing suicide, and he wanted things to happen his way.

No, not his way. The Dark’s way. And since the Dark’s way was the only way, it would happen the way he and the Dark had it planned out.

The Bringer of Pain sat down on the hill to watch, as Lord Fragg and his Slig army neared the gates of Mantin City.

If everything went as planned – and of course it would – things would not go so perfect for either Humphrey III or Lord Fragg, but everything would work out for the Bringer of Pain.

He wished he had some fleeches around; what good was a show, after all, if it didn’t have snacks?

* * *

CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

Lord Fragg could not decide whether to have a scowl or a grin on his face as he neared the gates of Mantin City once again. He was almost looking forward to talking with King Glok again – and when he did talk to the king, it would be his gun that spoke. It was high time to rid Glukksonia of that wimpy little jerk and install himself on the throne. He would never have to search for Abe again, because he would be his own master.

Still, the sight of the spindly-legged metal monsters patrolling around the city gates were a bit of a surprise to him. He waved one hand, motioning for his Sligs to move back.

“Not you,” he hissed to one of them. “Go check that thing out. Talk to it.”

The Slig swallowed hard. “Me?”

Fragg cocked his gun. “Yeah, you.”

The soldier tried to stand tall and raise his gun high in a brave manner, but he looked terrified as he crept toward the metal creature. Fragg watched from behind cover as the Slig moved close to the thing.

When the soldiers was within twenty meters, the robot’s head swiveled to point at the Slig – along with a gun on the underside of its body. “State the password.”

The Slig looked once at Fragg. “I…I don’t know –”

Immediately the gun on its underside opened up in a spray of laserfire, and before he could scream the Slig crashed to the ground in a dead heap.

“Intruder neutralized,” the robot said, and resumed patrolling.

Fragg twirled his gun. “Well, that complicates things…”

Suddenly, the loudspeakers on the side of the wall crackled to life in a burst of static, and Humphrey’s voice came out of it. “Lord Fragg! Is that you out there?”

Taking a deep breath, the Glukkon moved out of cover. “Yeah, it’s me.”

“So glad to see you! Sorry about the Snoozer – they haven’t been totally trained about what people to let into the city.”

Fragg wondered what Humphrey was doing on the loudspeaker system, then nodded. “Tell it to stand down and we’ll come inside.”

Humphrey’s chuckle sounded like it came from an electronic demon. “Oh, do come inside. I’ve got everything arranged for your arrival. Snoozers! Let Lord Fragg by.”

The loudspeaker clicked off ominously.

Fragg scratched his chin with a finger. Humphrey’s words “everything arranged for your arrival” sounded like a trap…but the Vykker had always been loyal to him. And the Snoozers were no longer patrolling around, since Humphrey had ordered them to stop.

He drew himself up in a manner that showed his high rank; he was not a coward and he would never be one.

“Let’s go in,” he said, and started for the gates. The sound of squeaking legs announced that his Sligs were following.

* * *

Hey why doesn't abe find a spell to revive bigface and that slig(in a good form)
like he finds something that used to bring abe alive in AO
Then the good slig could help abe to capture lord fragg.
The story is excellent,and that chapter with abe and the slig is funny,and at the end dangerous and sad :D +rep

Hey, thanks for the reply! I should have a new chapter out soon.

CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

“Look, guys,” Alf pleaded, “you gotta believe me…”

The Mudokon chieftain holding the spear – which automatically made him an imposing figure – slowly shook his head. “We owe Abe nothing. We owe you nothing. Leave.”

Lowrn snorted. “Hey, can’t you even talk in full sentences?”

The chieftain’s soldiers moved up around the Marching Mudokons, raising other spears to their neck level. Alf swallowed at the sight of so many stone tips so close to his vital point.

“Hey, hey!” he protested. “He was just joking!”

One Mudokon grinned, tapping his spear. “No joke, this. Serious, is.”

“Oh, great,” Lowrn snapped. “Now they don’t even have their sentence patterns right!”

The chieftain stabbed his spearhead into the ground. “Abe’s time is out. We won’t help him.”

Alf gritted his teeth. “He’s done so much for all of us –”

“He has done nothing but bring more Sligs to these lands,” the chieftain growled. “He has no gratitude. Not from us.”

Lowrn clapped. “Better sentence structure, fellas!”

The chief pointed at Lowrn. “He like that all day?”

Alf nodded slowly. “Pretty much…But, hey, Abe’s a hero. He’s killed thousands of Sligs. Possessed tons of Glukkons, you know? Why don’t you even try to help him?”

“If he such big warrior,” the native Mudokon said slowly, “why does he need saving now?”

“I said he was a hero,” Alf snapped. “Not invincible, okay?”

“Make up your mind.”

Alf folded his arms. “I’m Alf. These are Lowrn, Grunn, and Ferg. What’s your name already?”

“I am Great Chief Andy.”

Alf frowned. “Andy?”

In the blink of an eye, Chief Andy’s spearpoint went from the ground to an inch from Alf’s eyeball. The native Mudokon’s face was full of menace. “You insult me, and you die!”

The other Mudokons drew back their spears for stabbing distance, and Alf closed his eyes, preparing for the worst. Maybe going into Chief Andy’s territory for reinforcements hadn’t been the best idea ever.

* * *

Heh, cool! The plot thickens, I just read chapter 62 as well! The plot thickens further!

I like thick plots. They make the book more intriguing.

indeed thye do, especially since the two story lines keep twisting in and out of each other!

CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR

Fragg glanced around at his surroundings. The palace decorations had changed a lot, even since he had been here a few days ago. Sculptures and paintings that had formerly adorned the walls had been replaced with lots of business posters and scientific charts. It all looked very Vykker, which might help explain why Humphrey had been the one on the loudspeakers when he had approached the city.

Still, that didn’t account as to why the Sligs and Glukkons still crowding the palace halls looked extremely somber. Well, as a rule, they were always somber in the palace, but somehow they seemed grimmer than usual. It might just have been because everyone was dressed in black, had their heads bowed, didn’t look up as he passed them, and quietly sniffled as if they were trying not to cry.

Altogether, Fragg got the impression that something was wrong. He just didn’t know what the problem was. But he knew he would find out soon, because he was approaching the throne room, where Humphrey had said to meet him to talk things out.

Fragg grinned. He would certainly do some talking with his gun before long, once he got to speak with King Glok. Why would the people of this great industrialist empire allow such a momma’s boy – a non-smoker, of all things – to become the Gluk that made all the important decisions in the land, when there were much better Glukkons, like Fragg?

The great throne room doors loomed ahead. Fragg gave himself a quick look-over – not because he wanted to impress that idiot Glok, but rather because he wanted himself to look professional on tape when he murdered the king with a handgun.

He moved forward, and the doors opened automatically.

His jaw dropped open. “What’s happened to this place?” he said, shocked.

A small army of BigBro Sligs, Glukkons, and Snoozers were clustered around a small object in the center of the room, but from this distance the businessman could not see what it was they were looking at. Humphrey came striding over from somewhere in the corner.

“I’ve got things all set up for you,” the Vykker cackled, rubbing all four hands. “I murdered Glok and set you up to replace him.”

Fragg felt his forehead crease. “You – you killed Glok? By yourself?”

“Handy-dandy assassin-buddy at your service,” Humphrey replied.

The Glukkon motioned at the crowd. “So that’s the big boss himself, in a coffin?”

“Yep.” The Vykker laughed, an awful high-pitched squeak. “What do you think of my arrangements?”

“You’ve sure been useful.” Fragg smiled, and drew his pistol. “But not any more.”

The assistant raised all four hands and screeched, a piercing wail that made every sentient in the room whirl around to face the source of the noise. The Glukkons started shouting.

“Hey, whaddaya think yer doin’?”

“Put that gun away!”

Fragg said, smiling, “Humphrey’s just told me he murdered King Glok so I could be king. He was hoping to get favors once I was the ruler.”

Humphrey screamed again. “No no no no, that’s not true! That’s a –”

The Glukkons and Sligs turned away in disgust, and Fragg pulled the trigger. The hole that burned through Humphrey’s head was the most precise and satisfying hole that Fragg had ever seen.

Then he turned and moved toward the coffin. Time to establish himself as the Glukkon king once and for all.

* * *

CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE

Cloud glanced out the airship window at the land passing by beneath him. They had left the arid lands around Bodhran for the pathetically scorched wasteland that was Glukksonia. Thanks to the rather odd people who lived in Bodhran, he’d been able to come by one of these quick-traveling airships and got Crak himself to pilot the craft to the Glukkon capital, Mantin City.

Cloud supposed he should feel lucky he’d even made it out of Bodhran alive, with his laser weapon fully charged, but he still couldn’t help feeling anxious as the airship floated gracefully toward the capital. King Glok had not even been warned of Lord Fragg’s treachery before it was too late, and his stay in Bodhran, combined with his awkward stumble across the wastelands, had cost him valuable time.

He tossed his Barrage 32-A back and forth from hand to hand, as if to keep himself feeling better. The anxious feeling stirred around in his cyborganic guts, threatening to make him spew. He hoped he would get to Mantin City; first he would pay his respects to King Glok, then he would head to the public restrooms.

Frizzl walked in from the pilot cabin. “We’re getting’ real close to Mantin.”

Cloud straightened his back and nodded his head. “Understood.”

He headed up toward the pilot’s cabin, holding his gun with both hands. Crak sat in the pilot’s chair before an impressive array of buttons and switches that would’ve made Cloud dizzy if he’d tried to think of what they were all intended for. The Slig pilot pushed forward on a lever, and the airship dipped forward toward the ground.

As they dipped lower, Cloud could suddenly see the belching smoke and sickly pale lights that made up Mantin City, and he felt a burst of relief. He was almost to the palace – he could see the great structure itself, right in the middle of the city! Then the airship curved in toward the city landing bays, a kilometer or more from the palace entrance.

Crak waved one hand at the windshield. “We’re comin’ in, Tower Control. Stand by…Stand by.”

A voice said over the comm. system, “Airship Contra, you are cleared for landing. Enjoy your stay. Over.”

Crak didn’t respond, simply threw a switch that slowed the acceleration and eased back on the ascension lever, leveling the airship out as they settled in over the landing pad. Crak cut the power to the forward engines and settled in the landing gear. The airship settled to the metal pad with a sharp clank that rattled Cloud’s tiny brain.

Crak was already unfastening his seatbelt and moving toward the door. “I’ll see ya over to the palace,” he said. “Then I’m goin’ back to Bodhran.”

Cloud glanced out the window at the airport center outside, then nodded. “Thanks, Crak. You’ve been a great help to me.”

The country Slig shrugged modestly. “Ahh, it was nothin’. You were really devoted to King Glok, an’ even though yer message got through too late, I’m pleased to do you some service in the end.”

He disappeared out the door, and Cloud followed him. The soldier wondered briefly who was going to be king, now that Glok was slain.

* * *

CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX

Once five seconds had passed, and he still didn’t feel a spear through his head, Alf opened his eyes. He was still standing in Chief Andy’s tent in the middle of a tight ring of hostile Mudokon warriors, and they were still surrounded by a wall of spears, but for some reason the Mudokons were not attacking.

Also for some unknown reason, they were staring at something, something Alf couldn’t see from his current vantage point. He took a step toward the spearmen, who took no notice of his motion and kept their attention fixed on whatever it was they were looking at.

After a moment, Alf saw it. Actually, saw him.

It was Jake. “Hey, Andy!” the shaman called out. “You really pulled a sour one this time.”

The chief shook his head. “These tried to –”

“You have a problem with them asking for help?” Jake snorted. “You really have no brain on your broad shoulders, Andy, if you think you can just be so rude to everybody without problems.”

Andy pointed his spear at the shaman. “You not insult me or we kill.”

Jake laughed. “I don’t know how you got to be tribe chief, Andy, but all the people who voted for you were just as big fools as you are now.”

The chief’s eyes stretched wide. “You insult me –”

“It’s kinda hard not to, when you’re so touchy,” Grunn said from behind Alf. “And Abe needs our help out there.”

Jake pointed away with one finger. “He’s right, Andy. Abe is Oddworld’s best chance to be ruled by nature – and you’re just gonna let him get killed? I’m sure he’d do the same to you.”

Andy grinned. “If he smart, he would.”

“He’s certainly a lot smarter than you,” the shaman snapped. “And unless you want thousands of Sligs burning your village to the ground, you’ll help him out.”

The chief scratched at his head. “But…but why?”

“He’s a hero,” Alf said with a smile. “And since heroes have all the luck, he has better chances of winning than any of us.”

“He’s got a good career report,” Ferg said.

Jake gestured away. “Do as I say, Andy. ‘Bye, guys; I’ll be off collecting some more tribes to help us out.”

With a flash of blue sparkly light, the shaman vanished into the air. All the Mudokons stood staring at the place where he had been for a moment, as if they simply couldn’t believe they had just been scolded and ordered around by some magically-poofing-here-and-there shaman.

Then Andy sighed, a rumbling sound that came from deep within his chest. He pointed with his spear. “Fine. We go.”

Alf’s grin went wider. “I knew you’d come to see the light eventually, my friend.”

* * *

CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN

Lord Fragg – no, no, strike that, King Fragg – raised his head from its bowed position as he heard the squealing sound from the hall outside. It was the now-unmistakable sound of the huge throne room doors opening to allow somebody entrance; since becoming king a few hours ago, he’d heard it over fifty times, and it was beginning to drive him crazy.

He had expected it to be one of the multitude of Glukkon advisors that were always hanging around to deliver thoroughly pointless advice to him, but it instead turned out to be someone he didn’t recognize – not altogether a bad thing.

But when that person he didn’t recognize on first glance turned out to be a being he did recognize on second glance, he bit his lip.

It was a Wolvark. A very familiar Wolvark at that – the one called Urchyn McAvi, the one that had caused them so many problems recently. The one that had battled his forces in the canyon and captured Abe.

Fragg narrowed his eyes. What was McAvi up to now?

The bounty hunter was already halfway across the room. “That’s far enough,” Fragg snapped. “What do you want here?”

The Wolvark’s face stretched into a sinister grin. “I’m here to bring you the famous blue guy.”

Fragg’s excitement sense grew suddenly, and his heart began to beat quickly within his chest, as the bounty hunter turned toward the door once more. McAvi snapped his fingers in the air.

Through the doorway came a Steef. Fragg’s eyes grew wider; not only was a Steef an extremely rare thing to see after the late Sekto’s Steef Purge, but the skinny blue Mudokon unconscious over one shoulder was even more of a surprise.

These two bounty hunters had actually managed to capture Abe.

The Steef bent down and dumped Abe on the floor. He folded his massive arms across his chest. “How about…that reward, now?”

Fragg smiled. “I’m sure we can work things out.”

* * *

Steef what are you doing???? I like the city Bohdrun since I'm Irish and a bohdrun is a drum

I know, I named it after that awesome drum. Not many people can play the Bodhran well, but when they can...it's awesome.

Stranger is, after all, morally ambiguous. Who knows if he's a good guy or bad guy?

CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT

Abe sat crouched in his cell, his head bowed between his knees in a gesture he faintly recognized as one of despair. The stone walls chilled his spine, and the lack of heat made his toes go numb one by one, but he really didn’t care. He was too busy counting the cracks in the floor. Too busy wondering how the Sligs had made the mortar.

Thinking about anything but what he was doing now.

He had made a total mess of this mission. He’d been unable to kill Fragg – who was now king of Glukksonia – and he’d been unable to find the Bringer of Pain before being captured by those two blasted bounty hunters. He had never failed before.

But now, he was failing catastrophically. And it was really bugging him.

He wondered where Alf, Lowrn, Grunn, and Ferg were. If he knew them well enough, probably hiding for their lives.

* * *

Alf whistled in admiration. “This is quite an army you’ve got.”

Chief Andy shrugged his massive shoulders. “It enough. That all that matters.”

“I suppose so,” Alf agreed.

Chief Andy’s tribe – the Mudankas or something like that – were quite a large tribe, as revealed by their army. Three hundred Tomahawkers and four hundred Mudarchers had mowed their way through all the weakling Slig border patrols they had encountered on their way through No Muds’ Land, and not a single Mud had been lost.

Alf wondered if the Sligs in Mantin City knew what they were in for. Those dirty security forces had actually captured Abe – at least, according to Jake – and Alf intended to make them pay dearly for that offense. No one had held Abe prisoner before, and hopefully no one would ever be able to do so once the Mudanka army mowed the industrialists down.

* * *

Abe had to smile. Yeah, Alf and Co. were probably running back to the Mudokon village right now, trying not to get caught.

The sound of the cell door squealing open alerted his attention, and he looked up from between his knees. It was a pair of BigBro Slig security guards, holding their DonnerPacker rifles in one hand as they opened the door with the other.

Between them stepped the massive, fearsome, and unmistakable shape of a Steef. The Steef that had captured him.

Abe’s lip twisted as he rose to his feet. “What do you want?”

“To…talk with you.” The Steef’s voice was deep, coming from his huge barrel chest. “Discuss…things.”

“The only talking I intend to do is with my fists,” Abe spat.

The Steef snorted. “Then you’re a big…fool. A Mudokon fool.”

Abe held up his two fists. “These two fists have killed more Sligs than you have eaten meals.”

“I…doubt that.”

“I don’t. Not for a second,” Abe growled. “What do you want to discuss?”

“Terms…of release.”

Abe’s forehead wrinkled. “Release terms? What do you mean?”

The Steef shrugged. “If you’re…not interested in leaving, I can –”

“I’m quite interested in leaving,” Abe interrupted quickly. “What did you have in mind?”

“You…pay me. A lot.” The bounty hunter grinned broadly. “And I help you get out…of this cell. I’ll help you…kill Fragg.”

Abe didn’t see very clear motives here. Why bring him into the cell, if he was just going to betray Fragg later? “But why?” he asked.

“I’m inside…the biggest industrialist fortress…on Oddworld,” the Steef said. “They…trust me. Sort of. Why not…use that to my advantage?”

“Do you hate industrialists?” Abe said. When he got a nod, Abe shrugged. “What have they done to you?”

“Not just…to me,” the Steef said. “To…all of us. They’re nothing…but a plague on this land. A…blight.”

He extended one huge hand. “They call me…Stranger. The Stranger.”

Abe took the big Steef hand with both of his own. “I’m with you…Stranger.”

* * *

CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE

Lord Fragg held out the two huge stacks of bills toward the Wolvark bounty hunter. “$15,000 to each of you.”

McAvi accepted the bills without a word, but there was some gratitude in the toothy grin stretched across his ugly mug. He shoved the two wads of bills into his conveniently large pocket.

“You may go and pursue more bounties,” Fragg said dismissively. “I have no more time for you.”

“I think that may change,” McAvi said with a laugh. “Haven’t we proved out worth by performing a job you never could, even with hundreds of Sligs at your command?”

Fragg shrugged. “Perhaps so…but you bounty hunters aren’t to be trusted.”

“That’s true.” The Wolvark’s smile faded. “We’re not trustworthy, but we are powerful.”

“I have no use for you now.” Fragg motioned to one of the Snoozers. “Go.”

The Wolvark bounty hunter had a sneer to his lips as he turned to exit the room. Fragg didn’t bother to watch McAvi leave; perhaps the Wolvark had done some work for him, but he had much more important business to see to at the moment.

He pulled out his Info Pad and began searching through his most recent messages. Requests to visit factories and bestow his blessing, endorsement requests, new magazines, new weapons –

At the bottom of the list was a message labeled Urgent. Fragg shrugged, and tapped the button to read it.

Lodr Fragg we’r under attack from Muds need hlep right away assistance needed now postiion 43 x 21 nroth border

Fragg’s interested face turned into a frown. A Slig patrol, under attack by Mudokons? What Mudokons would be leading an attack, and why? The green-skinned idiots never had the brains to launch an organized attack, but the rushed and unedited manner of the message, along with its Urgent label, told Fragg something was wrong.

He reached down for his comlink at his belt, switching it to a particular frequency. “Captain Ullig? This is King Fragg. I need you to investigate 43 x 21 for Mudokon activity.”

“Right away, boss. I’ll take three squads.”

“Do it immediately,” the Glukkon ordered, and powered down his comlink.

He leaned back in his throne, putting a hand to his chin. He hoped the Muds weren’t about to stage a rebellion because of Abe’s imprisonment; he’d just become king less than a day before, and he didn’t want to have to deal with a rebellion yet. Hopefully Captain Ullig and his three squads could put down whatever was going on.

* * *

CHAPTER SEVENTY

Stranger watched the Slig guards patrol back and forth down the hallways in the cell area, memorizing their strategies with the keen eye of a hunter. He had always been a hunter, whether it was a bounty hunter tracking down Outlaws for moolah, or as the unmasked Steef pursuing Oktogi for his personal vendetta. Now, as a renegade bounty hunter helping a Mudokon escape from prison, his hunter instincts were pumping full flow.

He hated industrialists – not just for their overly cranky attitude, but for what they had done to Oddworld as a whole. They had turned once-pretty Grubb lands into dry wastelands, turned Mudokon realms into industrialist dumping heaps, and enslaved many people who would rather do the land a favor than control it. Now, helping Nature’s greatest hero escape from jail, he figured he had finally found his true side in life.

He had finally chosen his side. Bounty hunters had no side, working either for one side or the other as long as they got money. For a time, it seemed he had sided with the industrialists, and thought all Mudokons and Grubbs were fools to serve Nature –

But now he knew better. Now, he was about to set off a chain of events that would bring down the Glukkon empire once and for all.

He moved out of the shadows, waving a hand. “Hi there.”

The Sligs turned toward him, raising their rifles. “Whatcha want here?”

Stranger motioned to the nearby computer desk. “Need to…get some data downloaded.”

“Make it snappy,” one of the guards ordered roughly, and gestured for them to resume their guard duty.

With a nod, the Steef moved past them to the computer and immediately began punching in buttons with his large but amazingly nimble fingers. He only glanced over his shoulder once, making sure that the Sligs were not watching what he was doing.

It only took him a few minutes, due to his expert computer skills, to slice into the Glukkon security mainframe and punch in a few tricky codes he knew. There was no choir, no little tinkle of bells and unfortunately no wave of light to sweep over the area as the security turrets deactivated.

Stranger heaved his bulk up to his full height. It was time to get down to the business of freeing Abe and destroying the empire.

He whirled around, already placing a Boombat in his crossbow and yanking back on the trigger. Before the startled Sligs could respond, before they had even begun yanking up their rifles, that Boombat was flying across the room. Before they could pull on their triggers, that Boombat had exploded and sent all three BigBros flying.

“Now, Abe!” Stranger roared, slapping a Stingbee hive into place. “Now!”

* * *

CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE

Stranger fired three Stingbees at the lock on Abe’s door, neatly snapping it in two. Then he whirled around to face the Sligs.

The Steef immediately began opening up on his enemies, firing the deadly Stingbees into the two BigBros that were still alive after the blast. In mere seconds, the two Sligs were down, bodies still twitching from the dangerous bee attacks.

Alarms began blaring in the ceiling, and Stranger growled under his breath. Apparently taking out the security cameras hadn’t been enough; the ever-paranoid Glukkons must have installed some other kinds of sensors to stop prison breakouts.

Abe came running out of his cell, immediately opting to grab one of the big DonnerPacker rifles. The sight of the skinny Mudokon holding a massive industrialist weapon – no matter how much he didn’t like guns – brought a smile to Stranger’s face.

“We need to…get to the throne room,” Stranger said. “Then we can…deal with Fragg.”

Abe nodded. “Yeah, let’s get moving. I have a score to settle with him.”

Stranger led the way up through the hallways, Stingees locked and loaded in his huge crossbow. Occasionally he ran into one or two Slig guards, but before they could react he had either pumped a few bees through their head or Abe had totally blown them away with the DonnerPacker.

The two naturalist heroes continued ascending through the levels of the palace, Abe adding kill after kill to the barrel of his gun with his fingernails. Stranger noted that, while they were taking out a decent amount of Sligs, no one had come charging down in any force even after they had sounded off the alarms.

Abe pointed up a ramp. “The throne room’s up there.” He pointed at the ceiling. “It should be right above us now.”

Stranger grinned, and placed a set of Seeker Boombats in his weapon. “Let’s…get creative.”

The Mudokon stepped aside, allowing the Steef to point his crossbow at the ceiling and release the powerful explosive animals, blowing a hole through the throne room floor. Two Sligs – bits and pieces of them, at least – fell in through the large opening, but there were no screams and cries from the room above them.

Stranger and Abe leapt up at the same time, grabbing the hot edges of the hole and pulling themselves up –

Into a throne room full of BigBros.

They were surrounded.

* * *

This is a great story :D i can't stop reading it :D ,they could make a movie about this :D

All looks good and interesting as always, I can play bodhrum you?

Thanks Scraby, Scrabtrapman. No, I can't play the bodhran. I've never even had one. Never personally seen one. Seen it in a Celtic concert once, though, and really, really liked it. Named a city after it, in fact...

CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO

Alf fingered the Spoocebow and frowned. “I…uh…I don’t think you really mean this.”

Chief Andy’s huge painted face didn’t change expressions – which it never seemed to do. “Not kidding. We teach you Spoocebow.”

Alf looked doubtfully at the weapon. It consisted of a curved wooden stick, about three feet long, with a small hole carved in the center for spooce. The spooce shoved into the hole had been charged at the local ZapHenge to gain its powerful electric quality. The trigger could be pulled off to load spooce, then shoved back into place. When pushed down, the trigger would shove the spooce out the tiny hole at the front end, sending out thin beams of electric energy.

Or at least, that had been Alf’s first impression of the naturalist weapon. It looked too big and awkward to be carried around easily, but it didn’t weigh much. The problem would be shooting it – no one had ever trusted Alf with dangerous weapons before, due to his habit of not knowing who to point it at, and he wondered why Jake had not intervened.

“You point at target,” Andy said. “You pull trigger. You kill. When out of spooce, pull off cap, reload, put cap on, pull trigger.”

Alf frowned. “I thought there would be more of a trick to it.”

Andy’s face actually stretched into a grin. “Trick is hitting what you aim at.”

Both of them turned at the sound of pattering footsteps. A Mudokon native was charging forward, waving his tomahawk in the air, shouting something in a language Alf had no hope of understanding.

Andy’s smile dropped, and he said something.

The Mudokon replied in a distinctly positive tone.

Andy turned to Alf. “He say Sligs coming. More than hundred of them.”

Alf sighed. “And I don’t even know how to use the Spoocebow yet…”

* * *

alf really doubts his aiming... :D this is wery cool and you are a great wrighter +rep :D

CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE

Andy and the native moved off to rejoin the Mudarchers and Tomahawkers, but Alf stood behind for a moment, staring dejectedly at the Spoocebow in his hand. How was he going to fight off Sligs with nothing but this stupid weapon he had never used before?

He was still standing there several minutes later, even after the Mudarchers and Tomahawkers had moved off toward the Sligs. He stared after them, his face the picture of indecision. “Should I go with them, or be true to myself as a coward?”

He scratched his head, then decided he wouldn’t look like a coward for one year longer than he had to and raced off after his compadres.

* * *

Captain Ullig shook his fist in the air. “King Fragg’s leads were correct; that’s more Mudokons than I’ve ever seen before.”

His aide, an ordinary Worker-class Slig, asked, “Do you want us to ask for reinforcements, sir?”

“What for?” Ullig snorted, baring his huge arms and reaching for his DonnerPacker. “Just because we’re outnumbered doesn’t mean we’re beaten. Circle around back.”

* * *

Alf could only hear the sounds of battle coming from up ahead; he couldn’t really see what was going on. He saw the tall green shapes of Mudokons mingled with the short brown shapes of Sligs and the huge yellow shapes of BigBros, connected by flashes of laserfire and charged Spooce energy. Sligs and Mudokons fell down and didn’t get up again.

It was fascinating. It was amazing. It was powerful.

It was terrifying.

Alf had never been one to fight before; if he’d needed something, usually he’d cut corners and do things that edged on evil to get what he wanted. He looked down at the Spoocebow in his hand; he needed to start establishing himself as a hero, like Abe.

He glanced behind him, as if he expected to see a shadow version of himself being left behind –

And instead, he saw the band of Sligs Captain Ullig had sent around back. They charged forward, laser carbines at their waist.

Right toward Alf.

“Now would be a really good time for a miracle,” Alf grumbled, and raised his Spoocebow.

* * *

CHAPTER SEVENTY-FOUR

Abe cursed under his breath. He didn’t like being surrounded, nor did he like the fact he had so easily been led into a trap. This must be why Fragg hadn’t sent any reinforcements down to the prison area when the alarms had gone off – he’d guessed their path.

The Glukkon moved forward from his throne, shaking his head. “I’d hoped you two would be smart enough not to resist.”

Abe grinned. “I’d hoped you’d be smart enough not to get in our way.”

“Insolence.” Fragg sighed. “You try to distract me with your army, and then you escape from prison –”

“Army?” Abe interrupted. “What army?”

Fragg spat, “Don’t play idiot with me! I’ve read too much history to think you’re a fool.”

Abe twirled his DonnerPacker around his finger – a difficult thing to do, as it was fairly heavy. “I don’t know about any army. Why don’t you torture me? I wouldn’t lie under torture, would I?”

Fragg motioned to his BigBros, all of which raised their DonnerPackers in unison. “Why leave you alive? You’re proving to be much more trouble than you’re worth.”

“We’re…fond of you, too,” Stranger muttered.

Fragg smiled coldly at them. “I think it’s time we established industrialist rule over Oddworld. With the death of Abe, and the last Steef, the nature-lovers will be without hope.”

Abe stopped twirling the DonnerPacker suddenly, and the barrel pointed at Fragg’s head. “Don’t you Sligs make a move – I’ve got your boss covered.”

Fragg’s face stretched into a grimace. “You won’t pull that trigger, Abe – my Sligs have quick reflexes.”

“Can they tell when I’m going to shoot – and shoot first?” Abe snorted.

“Why don’t we find out?” the Glukkon suggested.

“That’s a good idea,” Abe said, and pulled the trigger.

* * *

WARNING: eXtremely cool and shocking stuff in this chapter!

CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIVE

Before the bullet could even roar out of the barrel, something moved with blinding speed, a blur of darkness. Before Abe could react, that blur had smashed into his DonnerPacker and sent it flying from his grip. Before Fragg could finish gasping with shock, a brown blur, large enough to be a person, came bounding after it.

Something slammed into Abe’s side, throwing him to the ground. BigBros roared in shock, and bullets roared from DonnerPacker barrels, but a huge explosion of black shadow energy sent Sligs sailing through the air. King Fragg tumbled down the hole in the floor Abe and Stranger had blown to get inside the throne room.

He heard Stranger swearing from somewhere beside him, but Abe was too busy rolling back and flipping to his feet. That brown blur was coming toward him again, almost so fast that he could see it –

But not fast enough that he couldn’t leap aside, letting it speed past him.

The blur paused behind him, turning –

Abe gasped. The thing that was standing before him – the thing that had just scattered them with bursts of dark energy – was none other than a being he had once known and trusted with his life.

He said, “Munch…”

The Gabbit smiled, a smile that would have been friendly had it not been for the blood dripping from his teeth and the demonic tattoos stretched on his face. “Call me…the Bringer of Pain.”

* * *

Alf yanked back on the Spoocebow’s trigger, and the kickback jarred his arm. His weapon only fired three bolts at the Sligs – not enough to really do any damage, but just enough to alert them to his position. The Sligs raised their guns to their shoulders and opened fire, spraying storms of lasers at him.

Alf screamed, turned, and ran. He only made it three steps before he tripped and fell flat on his face in the grass, but that also allowed him not to be struck by the flurries of deadly energy that passed inches above his head.

“I don’t want to die,” he whined into the grass. “I don’t want to die.”

He turned, sat up, and pulled back on the trigger. This time, he didn’t let go. Not even when he fell back with three holes through his brain. Even in death, he didn’t let go of the trigger. Spoocebow bolts sprayed far and wide; he wasn’t there to see them, but Abe would have been proud.

* * *

awsome chapter!!! that really shocked/suprised me when i saw who was the bringer of pain... i didnt even suspect munch :O

I knew that would be a really big revelation - and poor Alf died. I thought I'd give him a nice death - he's one of those annoying guys in life, but you can pity him now that he's dead...or just dance on his grave.

CHAPTER SEVENTY-SIX

Abe stared in shock at the being who should have been his friend. Munch had the powers of darkness on his side, and had not only tried to kill Abe and Stranger, but had also been the one responsible for the wiping out of that Gabbit settlement and the Mudokon slave line?

Abe’s grip on the DonnerPacker trembled, as tears beaded in his eyes. “Why?”

Munch blurred forward, one hand smacking out. Abe tried to dodge, but he couldn’t match the Gabbit’s power-enhanced charge, and the blow collided with amazing force for such a small, awkward-looking creature. Abe thudded onto the floor, the huge gun crashing down far out of his reach.

“Why what?” the Gabbit asked coldly.

“Why…” Abe gasped out, “did you…betray us?”

Munch bounced forward, lifting one hand. Abe didn’t flinch as a bolt of black lightning poured from his hand – but the sudden raw blaze of pain that poured into him made him scream.

“I didn’t betray you.” The Gabbit let up the lightning, shaking his head. “You betrayed the Dark.”

“Dark?” Abe tried to smile. “That sounds…kinda cheesy.”

More lightning blazed into him. “Don’t – insult – the – Dark!” Munch snapped, his voice brimming with menace.

Abe felt his skin begin to char, but he tried not to scream again. “Dark, light…” he said. “What are they but words? We’re morally ambiguous, remember?”

Munch frowned. “What?”

“Nothing.” Abe flicked a glance at the DonnerPacker a few feet away. If he could distract Munch somehow, then roll over and grab the gun –

Munch smiled, said “Oh, no you don’t” and fired a blast of lightning that fried the gun to scrap.

Abe clenched his fist. “Munch…where did your power come from?”

Munch said “The Dark” and blasted him into oblivion.

* * *

Hmm, this is hard to relate to since it's so far from Oddworld canon but I'll follow along and show the graciousness to see it through, I did not see any of this coming!!!! =o