[Dave]

Hoo-hah! Two chapters in two days!
That's gotta be, like, a record or something.

Well, kids, I hope you brought your appetites! Here's a heaping helping of Dante's Oddysee, fresh out of the oven!

Really, I finsihed the chapter not two minutes ago.

Chapter 6

But I had no time to waste. There would be sligs moving in any second.
And as if on cue, and because the universe hates me, I heard pants whirring towards me. In fast mode. Ugh.
I had to be quick. Where was the nearest transport?! A ball car about fifty feet away from me … around the corner! Bolt! I turned and dashed around and into the next hallway, and took in my surroundings.
It was a relatively short corridor. I could see the ball car dock at the end of the hall. And the car was there. The green lights over the door hummed a low hum.
The hall itself was rather empty. Not much machinery, just a meat grinder or three.
And yeah, there happens to be the whole “All the sligs working in the whole freaking universe have to stand in my way” rule that Oddworld seems to have recently adopted.
When I appeared in the hallway, at least a hundred sligs poured in from the ceiling—commandos! Their motto has always been: “Shoot first … ask questions l… no, no, just shoot.”
Well, it was either run or be shot. So, instead of taking the logical way out, I decided I should run for it.
I was at top speed and streaking down the hall, when those few meat grinders I thought wouldn’t be a problem buzzed into motion. I remember thinking, “Oh, cut me some slack!” for about half a second as I ducked and rolled under and past the grinder in front of me.
And a break is what I got—my arm was snagged in the grate underneath the saw!
The feeling was not so bad as the sound it made when my arm was ground away. The tearing, ripping sound of ripping wet leather was nearly enough to make me pass out. And the fact that it was my arm ripping apart made me cry. I just up and cried. No screaming, no wailing, just plain old whimpering and sobbing.
This would’ve probably sealed my fate, but the sligs were too busy laughing at me. I—what?
Laughing, eh?
Well, good.
RUN!
I stood up, ignoring the screaming nerves at the end of my severed arm, and dashed toward the ball car dock.
A few of the sligs calmed down in time to shout “Hey!” and “Freeze!” before I clattered into the car, triggered a switch, and fell over. The door clanged shut, and then I started to wail.
I wouldn’t make it. There was no chance, not with this stump. I examined my wound—laceration, if you will. There was little more than an upper arm bone left. Shreds of skin and stringy tendons hung from my shoulder. My eyes stung, and I felt fresh, hot tears pour down my face in torrents. I could only thank The Odd that I wasn’t dead yet. And that no sligs happened to be in the car.
A cheery vykker face on a monitor scrolled down. “Hello!” It sang in its high voice. “Where do you want to go today?”
I understood loosely what it meant, despite not knowing the words “where” and “want.” I choked out a few scraggly, tear-choked words. It sounded less coherent than usual.
“Zoolug Nayun.”
The screen flickered. Then it spoke again. “Invalid destination. Try again.”
After several failed attempts, a screen dropped down with a list of all the docks in the factory. There were labels decorated with symbols that meant different locations. An oven with a smiling mudokon attendant. Friendly stock animals. A glukkon and a vykker talking over a telephone. A mudokon in a bed (which made me want to laugh). A slig in a hammock. A pantry-looking thing. A few glukkons talking. A sad mudokon crouching under a disappointed-looking glukkon (gee, I wonder what that meant?).
Well, which one was Zulag 9? The glukkons talking to each other, I suppose. I mean, I couldn’t read or anything. So, I took a shot. I tried to reach over and touch the panel, but all my hand did was scream in protest. Then I realized that that hand wouldn’t answer because it was in fifteen freaking pieces at the end of the hallway!
Okay, other hand, then. Good old Lefty never let me down. I reached over and pushed the screen next to the businesslike glukkons. I pressed my thumb right into one of their faces. Yeah, I’d have like to press my fist into his face. Heh, heh. Yeah.
The vykker’s computerized face acted as if there was never any problem. “Yes, indeed, Zulag 9! Right away!”
I hummed a little ditty to myself while I waited, so I could pass the time (and take the focus off my arm). The car rattled and rolled and bumped and shook and whatever. When it screeched to a halt, I was nearly flung at the door. I managed to stand, even with my arm singing a chorus through my chest, and fresh blood seeping out of the socket around my stub. I braced myself for the worst, and triggered the floor switch.
The door opened.
I saw nothing but a long, dimly lit hallway. The lighting was green and faded. The walls and floor was made of plates of interlocking, rusted metal. The only thing of interest in the hall was the door at the other end. Sure, okay.
I trotted down the hall, my left hand clutched over my wound. My hand was getting sticky and hot by now, and I honestly didn’t care. I needed out.
As I reached the door, the green light over it flashed on, and it slowly whirred open.
The room was full of slig—no, wait. It was full of glukkons! Tall ones, short ones, fat ones … and in a bunch of different colored suits.
And when they heard the door open, they were very, very mad.
A chorus of angry shouting filled my head, and I ran straight through the room. A door! There had to be one! Couldn’t concentrate! My arm! The shouts! Slig pants clattering in! Whirring machines! Vicious cries! My arm!
A door! Please be the bathroom!
I rammed shoulder first through it—naturally on my wrecked arm. Trying to suppress a cry of pain and rage (and failing miserably), I stumbled into the last room I expected to see.
Urinals, toilets, sinks. And a sign reading “Out of Order.” Over a hole in the floor—a toilet must’ve been dismantled. And the hole …?
Just wide enough to slip through! I hope…!
Better try it! Run!
I took approximately three steps when a slig busted in and cried out. “Freeze!” Yeah, yeah, freeze, freeze, freeze. That’s all I heard nowadays. Too bad I didn’t
(pretended not to)
know what that word meant. I dropped to my knees and rolled to the hole … and slipped right in! Who cares if I was being coated in glukkon crap? I was almost halfway out!
I fell into a big, cavernous room. As I stood, I drunk in the atmosphere. The walls, floor, and ceiling were curved, like in a big pipe. Water trickled along the floor in between my feet. It streamed behind me and past me into the darkness. A single shaft of light—however dim—came down onto my face from the hole above.
Uh oh. Masks with guns in front of them were blocking that light. No time to celebrate; I knew they’d shoot out the floor and come after me.
“Only a little more running,” I thought to myself. “Then I can rest.”