[Munch's Master]

OK, the first update to this story in over 2 years. I've been worknig on and off on this chapter for ever, so I hope you like it.

Chapter 15: Anguish
Shocked yelps. Cries of pain. A Sliggish cackle. The thud of a hardened artificial object on living flesh. The crack of bone and coughing of blood.
The sound of wood splintering as a conical shaped metallic projectile burst through it at 100 mph. Mechanical footsteps on earthen ground.
Metal feet resounding off metal flooring. Stunned silence. Coughs and cries, detected yet unseen. Gasps, tentacle-obscured sniggers. A clapping, patting noise. The crack of shaped steel into thinner metal. The hiss and wail of a door opening with strain, as though it were buckled by a kick.
Again, the fragmentation of wood as a smaller object exploded through it at terrific velocity. More mechanical footsteps, the sound of gyros whirring. A strangled sigh.
“Finally ya show some Slig in ya!” Congratulations from near-identical creatures, the familiar voice of the same species. The chugging noise and acidic, brain-warping taste of Brew. “Kick the scum like that a bit more, an’ yer might get ter play with the big boys!” “Seems the mud-lover’s gone mud-psycho! ‘Bout bloody time!” More peer praise.
The explosion of wood and ringing of metal colliding at high speed, as the sharp drumroll of a spray of steel, pointed pellets burst through thin wood and into the linked metal of a fence. A roar of rage and pent up frustration. A heavy thud as curved metal resounds of soil.
Arthur hurled the gun across the target range. The factory-line weapon rebounded off the chain linked fence, reverberations sent through the air. Kneeling on the sodden ground, he released the torment bound-up in his psyche. The tempest faded, the tidal waves of anguish shrinking to a gentle lapping. Still he knelt there, not moving except to bring his palms up to the temples of his skull, then down across his brow. An act of irritation, of subduing anger and restoring calm.
“What’s up with you? You regrettin’ the switch from peace-lovin’ choir Slig to slave-driver?” An oafish remark, made by an equally oafish personality. Arthur turned his head to look at 2 spires of metal, which resolved into a Slig as he turned his gaze more skyward. “Whaddeyew want, Lak?” The slig whom had once been a hated entity in Arthur’s life, still far from a companion and drinking buddy, yet now a person who he could accept in a small degree, stood over him.
“You look like you’ve been smokin’ some of the Boss’s funny fags while pissed on Brew. You suffering from a hangover, or is yer brain explodin?” Oafish remark, oafish cackle.
“It’s something you ain’t too acquainted with, Lak. It’s called a brain, an’ a conscience.” Servos whirred, bent steel straightened out. Arthur stood up.
“So you are regrettin’ hittin’ that mud. It happened a week ago, ferget it. An’ I do have a con-shee-ence, I was conshee-enshus enough ter just rough you up that time a year ago when you thought yer’d take on me an’ my crew.”
“Crew? We ain’t in the streets of the big cities, so drop the gangster speak. An’ it’s not that I’m regrettin’ it, it’s somethin’ you don’t have the thought capacity ta comprehend. An’ yer pronouncin’ conscience wrong, prick.”
Arthur turned to walk away. A slap of skin on skin. He looked at his shoulder. A Sliggish hand clasped it. He sighed.
Gyros clicked as they turned round. Arthur knocked Lak’s hand away and leered up close. Mask to mask. “I tried bein’ tactful, and that didn’t work, so I’m tellin’ ya plainly. F**k. Off.”
Gyros clicking and turning again. The whirr as motors started up. Arthur walked away.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Tehehehehe.”
“……I’m getting worried mate.”
“Tehe, guhuhuhuh…..”
“I know what you mean Larry.”
“………BWAHAHAHA!!! HA!”
“Ah, I’ll sort this out!”
“Hey Max, wait-“
“Um, Max don-“
“Tehehe-ugh!!”
Trevor and Larry sadly looked on as Jeff hit the floor, propelled largely by Max’s fist. The poor, space-out mudokon, so severely troubled by his suffering the week before, had been dozed out on Laughing Gas. Unfortunately, getting him back off of it had proved near impossible.
Trevor trudged to his work wheel, turning it and opening a cargo door. “I’m concerned about Jeff, Larry. He always used to be so laid back, even if he was a bit…..weird. But since Arthur went nuts on him, he’s been bad. We only put him on the Laughing Gas yesterday, and he’s already off his head.”
An anger-flushed red face twitched into a snarl as the big Max hauled a crate of unidentifiable Septic Snaks product onto a trolley. “I told you, I sorted it out! Fist to the face, he’ll wake up fine!!”. The voice was less of a remark, and more of a booming yell. Enough in fact, to return the prostrate form of the less-than-watchful guard Slig to a state resembling consciousness.
Larry moved to take the trolley through the cargo door. “Wake up fine? You know what happens to guys out of it on Gas! Hit them and they get depressed or go psycho. He’s already well on the way to being a fully addicted Giggler after just 2 days. Somebo-“
Larry’s words were cut of by a piercing “OI!!!” from above. The clear winner of the Efficient Slig of the Month award had apparently noticed the comatose form of Jeff on the cargo bay floor, and remembered his Moolah was earned for stopping that kind of thing. The familiar ear-grating sound of Slig pants plodding assaulted the eardrums of the mudokon crowd as the Slig climbed down the ladder and walked over.
“Right scum, I see that gas-happy little twerp o’ yours is stargazin’. Who’s the guy that knocked Mr Cheery inta la-la land?”
Larry sighed inwardly. Another Slig who felt he had to stick his nose in. Normally, they didn’t care what the Mudokons did as long as there were no casualties. But lately, they’d been actually going out of their way to get the labourers into hot water. Larry was still surprised the Sligs could take the effort to do so.
“Eh? Yer not gonna own up? Who’s the braindead lummox who likes ta hit things?” The Slig cast his grotesque goggles over each of the nearby mudokons, with more slaves wandering over. A bit of factory drama was at least a distraction from the monotonous yet lethal tasks pressed upon them.
The Slig finally glared at Max, and a low cackle emitted from his gullet. Gyros squealed as the guard went tentacle-to-lack-of-nose with the scarlet brute. “I think, it were you. I think, youse the troublemaker. Yer that big red bastard that likes ta pick fights, ain’t yer? What’s yer name, Max? Well, Maxie, yer gonna be in maximum trouble, hur hur, get it? How’s about Mr Angry gets introduced to Mr My Gun? Eh?”
If hatred could kill, the Slig wouldn’t even have a corpse left. Max’s rage was bubbling over to the point that you could almost see it bursting out of his eyes in physical form. His hand twitched, itching to give the Slig a physical form of that anger, but Larry and Trevor, well aware of their friend’s less than saint-like temperament, quickly stepped in, gripping his wrists.
A malicious grin. A cocking of the head. The Slig’s visor-covered eyes glanced from Larry to Trevor, eyeing them up. “Hoo hoo haha, I know you.” He glanced at Larry “You’re that muppet who kept tryin’ ter escape about a year ago, ain’t ya? What’s the matter, ran outta ideas? Have yer escape plans escaped yer head?” The squid-faced creature grinned like a buffoon at his own joke “I think Mr Escape Master needs a reminder from me about what happens ta pesky grunts like you.”
Larry stared the guard right back, not with anger, but with defiance “I think Mr Guard needs to stop referring to everybody and everything as Mister. I think you’ve got some inferiority complex. I think you should just turn around and leave, cause it’s just going to be that much worse for everybody if you don’t.”
The silent member of the mudokon triumvirate in Trevor cringed, knowing what was coming. But, instead of the cold feel of rifle on malnourished flesh, there was just the odour of the Slig’s breath as another snigger reeked forth from his mouth. “Yeah. You think you’re smart, think you’re witty. Don’ worry, I won’t bother hittin’ ya. I jus’ need ta report you ta my superiorior” The Slig’s diatribe paused, his brain trying to catch up with his mouth and vocabulary “….ior, fa breakin’ employee conduct again. Remember, you aren’t allowed ta give ya bosses back talk, an right now I’m yer boss. An I think I’m gonna have ta file another complaint about how ya hurt the laughin’ lad down there, cause I actually don’ think tha roid monster ere did it anymore, I think it was you. You’ve always been trouble, an I’ve got ta take care of that trouble as part o’ my job. It’s my duty as an employee ta uphold factory rules. I might even get a promotion.”
Steel pivots sharply rotated as the Slig turned and stamped away. Larry released a frown. “Small words from a small Slig.” Trevor however, shook his head. “He can punish you Larry. You know that.”
The more outspoken of the two nodded. “I know, but he won’t. you saw him slumbering up there. He’s just trying to scare us.”
Max’s fists clenched, the silent leviathan finally emitting speech again “He can’t scare me. I’ll knock his tentacles down his throat next time!!!”
Shaman-in-training Trevor again shook his head. “You won’t Max, you won’t. And you can’t.”
A grimace emitted from the 3rd of them again. “Can’t do this, can’t do that. Things are getting worse every day. Jeff needs his head sorting out. Max needs a Chill Pill. You Trev, you need those chant-supressors off. And I need to get out of here.” And with that, Larry turned, trudged to the trolley, and started wheeling it into the loading bay.
And the wise eyes of Trevor observed Larry closely. Finally, Trevor allowed a small smile to cross his face. Upon seeing this out-of-place expression on the visage of Trevor, one of the watching slaves was curious. “What are you smiling at?”
The ghost of the smile vanished again from Trevor’s face. “You heard Larry. He wants out. He’s getting back to his old self again…..Though whether that’s good for us or bad, I don’t know.”
The mudokon made no inclination towards either mindset, and resumed working. And the prone form nearby stirred. “……HA!!!”
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I'm not 100% happy with it, I admit. I think the Slig and Larry interaction seemed a little forced, but I need to keep the plot moving to stop it just being lots of words and not much happening. Next chapter will arrive in a week or so.