Abe's Expoddition

[Lord Stanley]

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Abe had no real choice but to sit and wait for the Slig to come around. He had already announced the rogue was his prisoner, and he had no real way to drag the Slig around. Anyone in these parts might have information – especially a rogue Slig, because rogues had dealings in both industrialist activity and otherwise.

He glanced at the amount of bullets the Snuzi pistol had left. 81 shots were a good amount.

Abe narrowed his eyes. He’d actually used weapons on several occasions, but that had only been in direst need. He had always considered them to be something of an abomination to everything he fought for.

But were they, really? His enemies had been using them for years, and he’d always managed to escape them, sometimes very narrowly. But in a world where there were more enemies than friends, all wielding guns, and his age was growing on, wouldn’t it be safer to have a gun?

He fingered the Snuzi pistol. Surely it couldn’t hurt to have a gun to aid him on his journeys.

He shrugged and tucked the weapon into a pocket in his pants. Defeating this rogue Slig hadn’t been all that hard, and having his enemy’s weapon, a deadly weapon at that, would only increase the fear his prisoner had for his captor.

He produced a small traveling cake from his pocket and glanced once at it. He had never been one for bringing large amounts of equipment with him, but with his lockpicking wire, a nearly-worthless map, a stack of moolah, and a couple traveling cakes, he was good to go. Traveling cakes, while nearly tasteless, were small, filling, and never went bad. Abe wondered if they were pre-made stale.

He took a bite from the crunchy bread and stared down at the Slig. It had been a long time since he’d had to take a prisoner and extract information from him, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t up to it. Maybe as a Mudokon he didn’t look too fearsome, but holding the Snuzi pistol on him could loosen his tongue a bit.

The Slig groaned and sat up, and even before his eyes blinked open, Abe had pulled out the loaded pistol and held it three inches from his prisoner’s face.

The Slig opened his eyes…and groaned.

“I guess you weren’t as much of a wimp as I thought you’d be,” the beaten being grunted, looking up the barrel of his own weapon. The Slig brushed off his mechanical pants. “But then, I didn’t know you were Abe whenever I first shot at you.”

“It probably wouldn’t have changed anything,” Abe pointed out, keeping the point of his pistol as close to the Slig as he could without putting it to the being’s head. “After all, I probably have a huge Glukkon bounty on my head, and any sensible rogue Slig would go for that one. You would have shot at me.”

“Yeah, maybe so.” The Slig flexed his mouth-tentacles. “So what do you want from me? You have the gun, so you don’t want to kill me.”

“I want…information.” Abe smiled broadly. “I know you wouldn’t refuse a simple request like that.”

The rogue Slig clenched one fist, then opened it again. “Well, when the one in charge of the situation has a gun to your head a couple inches away,” he growled, “you don’t really have much say in the matter…so I guess I could, uh, answer a few reasonable questions.”

“I don’t have to be reasonable,” Abe reminded. “I have the gun.”

The Slig grinned. “And if you kill me, you lose all your information.”

Abe laughed. “Maybe I don’t want you dead, but I could still do other things to you. You know, like shoot your fingers off one by one…pull you manually out of your pants…rip your face-tentacles off…maybe even –”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” the Slig laughed nervously. “Um…so what did you want to know?”

* * *

[Grieva]

Wow, thats a lot of chapters in a short time. I like how you've brought Big Face into it having mentioned him earlier, the stories all seem very connected.

Nice work

[Lord Stanley]

Another person comments on my story!

Grieva: THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!! I love having people say anything, just as a reminder why I'm writing this story (besides my own enjoyment) !!!

And yeah, I'm really going nuts today. It's getting much easier to write the book. Plus, it's fun to have an Abe that can punch and kick and even shoot, and act mean.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Abe took a step back, giving the Slig some room to breathe. “Firs of all,” he said, “who are you and what are you doing out here?”

The Slig spread his arms wide. “I’m Vastor Ugrich, rogue Slig. I hire people to do my work.”

“What kind of work would that be?”

“Whatever I feel like.” Vastor grinned. “Usually it involves killing Grubbs or Mudokons, since they’re so weak.”

Abe cocked the pistol and fired in one smooth motion. The bullet singed the edge of one of Vastor’s face-tentacles, neatly drawing a thin stream of blood without injuring him badly.

“That could have been your brain,” Abe snapped. “I want information, not stupid remarks.”

Vastor nodded quickly. “Uh, yeah, yeah…Well, mostly I came up here to see if the rumors were true.”

“What rumors?”

Vastor cracked his knuckles. “To see if there really was a Gabbit settlement up here.”

Abe’s eyes widened. “A Gabbit settlement?”

“Yeah, even though Gabbits went extinct ages ago,” the Slig went on. “I just figured I could have some shoot-em-up fun with them.”

Abe cocked back the pistol. “And did you find the settlement?”

Vastor shook his head slowly. “No, not yet. But I will…that is, if you let me go. I have a map.”

Abe smiled, as a breeze swept across the rock-dotted landscape. “I already looted you while you were sleeping. The map’s over there.”

He gestured with his free hand toward the place he’d left the map. Vastor peeked out to the place where he’d gestured.

“Uh…” The Slig’s eyes went wide. “The, er, map…”

Abe clicked the gun cock for nastiness’ sake. “What about the map?”

“It’s um…flying away?” Vastor chuckled. “The wind’s throwing it away.”

Abe felt a flash of fear. The breeze he’d felt, blowing the map away? A map that could possibly lead them to a Gabbit settlement – a settlement that might even have been started by his old friend Munch?

He whirled around, still holding the gun toward the Slig, and looked behind him. It was just as the Slig had said: the valuable piece of brown paper was swiftly being tossed about by the stray zephyr, taking with it a valuable secret, a secret he could use –

And then Vastor was moving.

Abe whirled around, shouting “Hey!” at the top of his lungs, but before he could defend himself, the Slig was throwing a sharp upward blow, knocking the Snuzi pistol from his hand. It landed in the dirt some feet away, but Abe was too busy dodging a punch at his stomach to notice the weapon’s landing point.

He caught another punch on his open palm, shoved Vastor backward, sent the Slig flat onto his back with a sharp kick to the shins, and stomped down hard with his foot. Vastor rolled sideways, and Abe’s stomp slammed into the unforgiving ground. Abe grunted as he felt something pop in his ankle, and he hoped he hadn’t sprained it.

The Slig rolled up to his feet; without wasting any time, he threw a desperate punch at Abe’s head. The Mudokon ducked it, rammed his head into the Slig’s stomach, powering him backwards, and then clenched both his fists and rammed them upward into Vastor’s chin. Vastor staggered for a moment, and Abe raised one foot and kicked him in the stomach, which threw him back onto the ground.

Only then did Abe turn and stumble toward the fallen Snuzi pistol, his ankle sending blazes of pain up his leg. He heard Vastor scrabbling madly to get back to his feet, but the Mudokon quickly snatched up the gun and whirled around, holding the weapon by the barrel.

Vastor charged forward, head bowed, probably intending to ram his head into Abe’s gut –

And Abe brought the Snuzi pistol’s butt cracking across his head.

Vastor fell flat on his face, and didn’t move. Abe knelt down to inspect him; the Slig was only unconscious again, and probably would be for several long minutes.

Abe turned and stumbled toward the map. Obviously Vastor was going to be a challenge, if he was going to take advantage of every opening he saw. All Abe had to do was not give him any more openings.

Unfortunately, that would be easier thought than done. His reflexes were not as good as they used to be, and, even with this powerful Snuzi pistol as a weapon, Vastor was younger and fitter than he was. And Vastor certainly wanted to kill him, whereas Abe needed him alive.

When he finally caught up with the map, he glanced at the bottom corner saw it was dated from about three years ago, worn and dirty. Did that mean the Gabbit settlement could be gone by this time, or had it managed to last?

Well, the map had the village on it, at least right now. Abe put the map into his pocket and turned back toward the unconscious Slig. Alf and Lowrn and the others could wait for now. This Gabbit village needed his attention at the moment.

Especially if this settlement was what had become of his old friend Munch. Ever since Munch had flown off in their looted airship with his can of 150 Gabbit eggs, Abe had never heard anything that indicated success. But did this mean Munch had succeeded in restarting his species? Or had he just provided the Sligs with another hit target?

Abe sighed. Whatever the answer, he had to check this out.

* * *

[Lord Stanley]

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Fragg’s senses slowly returned to him as he blinked open his eyes. He was in a cold, dark room, lying on a bed of sorts, and his whole body ached. His suit was rumpled and battered, and only added to his considerable pain.

He blinked in the darkness. What was he doing here? He’d been riding the airship to Mantin City, and then he’d been taking to King Glok, and then the BigBros were dragging him away –

To the detention area. Oh, that was it. He’d been tortured.

The Glukkon businessman clenched his fists angrily. He’d come here to talk to his king about leading an army, and instead of granting him the good request, Glok had tortured him about the location of the Meech beetles, just to make extra profit out of Fragg!

He didn’t like to be used that way. Abe was out there somewhere, probably tailing the line of Sligs that were bringing the Mudokon slaves here to Mantin City, probably waiting for his chance to rescue them. If Abe rescued those slaves, Fragg would have nothing to barter for his life with, and Glok might go so far as to execute him.

Fragg cursed Glok under his breath. He had always assumed the Glukkon king was some sort of eccentric fellow simply because he didn’t smoke cigars, but he had found out – at his own cost – that Glok was a scheming, selfish Glukkon with plans to take out everyone who threatened his power. That was quite disturbing.

The room’s lights came on, and Fragg could suddenly see everything. Wincing at the sudden illumination, he glanced about the small room. His bed appeared to be the only piece of furniture, surrounded by four thick metal walls with a large grate at the other side, which appeared to be the only way in or out.

He could see two BigBro Sligs standing just outside. Maybe they could tell him what was going on. “Hey, you!” he grunted. “Where am I?”

The grate hissed open, and a familiar figure stepped inside the room. “I can tell you well enough,” King Glok chuckled. “No need to bother your guards: you’re in a cell.”

Fragg gritted his teeth. “On what charges?”

Glok shrugged, a difficult thing to do since he was standing on his hands. “Oh, there are no official charges. I simply thought it might be a good place for you to recuperate after the interrogation session.”

“I suppose you know where to find the Meeches now,” Fragg grunted. “If I could just get a gun, I would kill –”

“You really don’t want to finish that sentence,” Glok admonished. “If you did, then I would have to execute you on sufficient charges of high treason.”

Fragg sat up straight, gritting his teeth. This king, brilliant and twisted as he was, could be incredibly annoying with the way he seemed to have it all under control.

“As for your inquiry,” the king went on coolly, “you proved quite a tough nut to crack. In fact, we couldn’t get you to talk about where the Meeches are hiding.”

Fragg felt his hopes soar, but he didn’t reveal his emotion on his face. “So you don’t know where the Meeches are,” he chuckled.

Glok shook his head. “Oh, we do know. Perhaps you weren’t willing to talk to us about them…but your Vykker assistant, Humphrey the Third, was all too eager to tell us where to find them, once we put a gun to his head.”

Fragg silently cursed Humphrey.

Glok stepped to one side. “As of now, you’re free to go after Abe,” he said. “I have your BigBro army assembled just outside Gate 4. If you feel you are ready to lead, you may do so.”

Fragg didn’t answer. Glaring daggers at the Glukkon king, he rolled himself out of bed and started for the door. Glok was proving to be a worthy obstacle in Fragg’s path to money, and Fragg hated obstacles.

In fact, he destroyed all obstacles in his path.

Fragg didn’t turn to look back at Glok as he exited his cell. Ever since he’d arrived in Mantin City, the king had been manipulating him about, taking everything that had made him successful. Fragg intended to change all of that…as soon as he’d tracked down and killed Abe.

* * *

[Lord Stanley]

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Abe had to blink rapidly to keep his eyes from falling shut for hours. After Vastor had come out of his unconscious state, Abe had forced Vastor to lead the way. It had not been an easy job holding the pistol on the Slig while he tried to follow the map toward the Gabbit settlement, but Abe had learned a lot of lessons about being tough out in the wilderness, and he had managed to keep going until it was fully dark.

Once it was dark, things got worse. While Vastor got to lay on the ground, Abe had to sit up all night, watching the Slig gaining more rest, more energy that could be used against him, while Abe grew more and more tired. It was thoroughly infuriating, sitting on the cold, cold ground with the Snuzi pistol in hand, hearing Vastor snore loudly.

Now it was morning again. Now they stumbled along in the wastelands, the grass underfoot swiftly turning to dirt and rock.

Abe felt his head nod toward his chest…but he yanked it back up again. He had to keep a sharp eye on Vastor; the Slig had proved to be a problem before and would probably continue to be one, so he had to keep his eyes open. If he could find the Gabbits, and if Munch was among them – or even one of his descendants – Abe could probably get some sleep while the townspeople put Vastor in some sort of prison.

He glanced briefly down at the map. If he had followed the brown piece of paper’s instructions properly, they were within five miles of the settlement. They had covered nearly twenty miles yesterday, so they ought to be within sight of this Gabbit town within minutes…unless it was hidden.

Abe frowned. If he knew Gabbits well – which he didn’t – they would probably have their settlement well-hidden, so the Glukkons wouldn’t find and destroy them before they had a chance to grow populous again. Maybe it would take more than a few minutes to come on the Gabbit village, if it was still there.

Out of boredom, he said, “Why do you love killing peaceful people, Slig?”

Vastor laughed once. “Probably because they don’t fight back.”

Abe gritted his teeth. “Is there no honor in this world anymore? You kill people just for the purpose of getting rid of them?”

“Why do we need honor?” the Slig chuckled. “No one’s going to pay us back for it!”

Abe clicked back the cock of his gun threateningly. “Of course you’re going to be paid back for everything you’ve done. Why do you think the Glukkons have been blown up in their factories with every bit of moolah they’ve been able to get on Oddworld? Because there is retribution.”

Vastor threw up his hands. “Oh, no!” he mocked. “Now you’ve got me really scared!”

Abe twitched his finger and fired one bullet from the gun. It burrowed into the ground directly in front of where the Slig was about to take a step. With sudden surprise at the hole’s appearance, Vastor staggered, flailed twice for balance, and then toppled sideways.

Abe clicked the cock on the gun, grinding his teeth together as he stood over the Slig. “You should be scared,” he growled. “One day, when you die – if I kill you or someone else does – then you’ll find out just how wrong you were to mess with us. The only way to avoid it is repentance, Slig. Doing good, and not evil.”

Vastor said nothing for several long moments; he simply sat there, staring up at Abe.

The Mudokon jerked the gun in the direction of the Mudokon pistol. “Get up, Slig. It’s time to go.”

Vastor still said nothing; the Slig merely complied, pushing himself back up to his feet and moving northeast. Abe, feeling much more energetic now that his blood was boiling with rage, urged him onward with a sharp prod of the Snuzi pistol.

As they traveled, Abe’s anger did not dissipate. He kept up his rage as means of energy, keeping himself infuriated so he could keep his mind on his task. How could the Slig be so arrogant as to ignore the Hand of Odd, to refuse to see the way of the Oddiverse?

He kept walking, keeping his eyes focused for anything interesting.

It wasn’t long before he saw it. And when he did, his eyes widened.

“Oh, no,” Abe groaned. “Oh, no. No…”

He fell to his knees, Snuzi pistol falling to his side.

“It can’t be,” he whispered.

Vastor folded his arms across his chest, standing grumpily to one side. “So what’s bothering you?” the Slig grunted.

Abe pointed with the gun. “Smoke…”

There was a small crater in the ground nearby – a perfect place to build a village, surrounded by thick walls. But rising from that crater was thick, black smoke…and Abe could tell it wasn’t just the kind from an eruption. It was something burning.

Something like wood.

Something like a Gabbit village.

Abe suddenly stood up and pointed with his gun. “Get moving!” he snapped. “Get over there – we’re going to check this out.”

Vastor just smirked, and complied.

* * *

[Lord Stanley]

Warning: Big Plot Shift ahead!!

CHAPTER TWENTY

It only took the work of a minute to get to the summit of the crater. And when Abe paused at the lip to look down into the scene below, the hope in his heart suddenly vanished, to be replaced by despair.

There had been a village here once…all that was left were smoking ruins. Ruins that had definitely been houses before they were torched.

And there were the bodies.

Bodies everywhere.

Gabbit bodies.

Abe moaned aloud. The bodies of the newly-recovering species lay strewn across the ground, scorched and decomposing. Whatever had caused all this carnage had obviously not happened all that long ago, because most of the bodies still had skin and flesh, and the smoke was still rising from the burnt buildings.

Whatever had killed the Gabbits had been very thorough. And it definitely hadn’t been Sligs – because there were no bullet holes anywhere. The Gabbits’ flesh had been ripped open by brutal slashes with some kind of weapon or claw, slashes in vital spots like the neck and chest. Since the wounds were so precise, Abe guessed it was some kind of blade that had done the deed, and not an animal.

Abe groaned again. All Munch’s hopes had come to nothing, in the end. How awful, to end an entire species this way!

Vastor folded his arms across his chest. “Huh. Nice bit of work, that is. Whoever did it –”

“Whoever did it will pay,” Abe growled, cutting him off short. He stood back up again, clenching his free left fist. “Who could have done such a thing?”

The Slig chuckled. “Well, I would have done it, if I’d been here first –”

Abe whirled around and punched him in the jaw.

It wasn’t a very good punch, because it merely sent Vastor staggering, but it let Abe be rid of some of his growing anger. “You’ll shut up about your hate for every good person on this world!” Abe thundered at him, raising the gun to point squarely at the Slig’s face. “You stop talking about it or I’ll blow your brains out right here, right now!”

Suddenly a thought occurred to him, one he hadn’t considered before. “Why do I even need you?” he asked. “I’ve got all I need from you – this map to a burnt Gabbit village. You’re no more use to me.”

Vastor put his arms out in front of him, scrabbling backwards in the dirt. “No, no, please! I beg you! Don’t kill me!”

Abe smiled, and cocked his gun again –

“Don’t kill him, Abe. There’s no need for that yet.”

At the sound of a voice he hadn’t heard in years, Abe whirled around.

There, standing only a few dozen meters away, looking the same as he’d ever been, was none other than…

“Big Face?” Abe whispered, uncocking the gun and letting it drop to his side. “Is that you?”

The huge mask dipped once. “In the flesh,” his old friend replied. Abe grinned broadly. Big Face still wore that outrageously-sized mask over his real face – some kind of tribal thing that Abe had never understood – and still walked around with that bumbarkh-wood staff.

“It’s good to see you again!” Abe laughed. He waved a hand at the remains of the Gabbit village. “Do you know what happened here?”

“Yes.” Big Face shuffled forward, shaking his head sadly. “A very tragic and sudden end to such a peaceful race of –”

Without warning, Vastor made his move, reaching out and grabbing at the Snuzi pistol Abe still held. The Mudokon warrior whirled around, trying to retain his grip on the weapon, but Vastor had the element of surprise and a whole night’s rest on his side; the weapon slipped from Abe’s hands, and the Slig was suddenly holding the gun.

Vastor flipped the gun around, cocking it –

Abe sprang forward, shouting “No!” –

Vastor smirked and pulled the trigger –

Abe ducked –

And the bullet roared out of the barrel and struck Big Face in the chest.

Time seemed to go at a crawl. Abe shoved Vastor to the ground, whirling around and calling out his old friend’s name, as the aged Mudokon clutched once at his chest, then crumpled to the ground.

“Noooo!”

Abe didn’t waste time running over to Big Face. Instead, he whirled back around to face Vastor. The Slig was halfway up to his feet, pulling the Snuzi back up, nerves already sending the message to fire at Abe –

Empowered by rage, Abe swung up one arm, catching Vastor a stinging blow on the wrist. The pistol flipped through the air, and Abe caught it neatly by the handle. Vastor leapt forward, growling.

Abe pulled the trigger three times. All three shots went through Vastor’s head, powering his Slig brains through the air in several disgusting seconds. The Slig didn’t even have time for a last moan; going limp instantly, Vastor toppled sideways over the edge of the crater and tumbled into the smoking ruins below.

Abe lowered the gun. How fitting, that a murdering coward like Vastor would lie forever with murdered Gabbits.

But then he turned, and saw Big Face lying on the ground. A lump of steel formed in his throat, as he realized that no one but an armored Big Brother Slig could live through a blast in the chest at such close range.

Abe stumbled forward, dropping to Big Face’s side. The shaman’s eyes were blinking rapidly, and the breath rasped weakly from his lungs.

“I…I…I’m…I…” the shaman stammered weakly.

“Who killed the Gabbits, Big Face?” Abe whispered hoarsely. “I need to know.”

Big Face drew himself up for one last breath. “The…the Bringer of Pain killed them. All…of them…”

His last breath rattled out of his body, and the light in the old shaman’s eyes went out.

Big Face was gone, forever.

Abe bowed his head and wept…and swore that as soon as he had Alf and Lowrn to help him deal with Fragg, he was going to find this Bringer of Pain and avenge these Gabbits.

* * *

[Lord Stanley]

Oh, as an extra note, since this is just a fanfic, the events detailed in "Abe's Expoddition" don't have to be considered canon.

[Lord Stanley]

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Lord Fragg looked on his handiwork, and decided it was good.

He now had three hundred BigBro Sligs in his army, a hundred Armored BigBro Sligs, and another five hundred Shooter Sligs. He would have liked to add some Flying Sligs to his army, but since grenades caused too much collateral damage, they would be more a threat to their comrades than any danger to the enemy.

Fragg knew what Abe would do. He had studied Abe’s tactics, even though for a long time, it seemed Abe was gone.

Abe would get help.

The infamous Mudokon terrorist would come after Fragg, probably with his equally-infamous band of “Marching Mudokons.”

That was why the army was needed: to make sure they destroyed all these dangerous terrorists, once and for all. Abe would probably try using some sneaky techniques to pick them off, one by one, but Fragg had thought to equip many of his soldiers with area scanners which revealed all nearby life forms, making it impossible for Abe to be hidden in the shadows.

Finally, Fragg was sure he had done the impossible: he had managed to make Abe’s life worth nothing.

Hundreds of Sligs, all armed with the newest guns – bullets for the BigBros and lasers for the Shooter-Class – would kill Abe. There was no way that the Mudokons could factor in a victory. And once they had killed Abe and his friends, there would never be anything to oppose Fragg’s path to power.

The Five Steps to Moolah:

1. Have Sligs.

2. Be Devious.

3. Smoke cigars.

4. Have slaves.

5. Be a Glukkon.

Fragg followed those five rules with all his heart, and he was sure that he couldn’t fail this time. Soon, Abe would be dead, and Fragg would again be head of the MeechCo corporation…competition or not.

* * *

[Lord Stanley]

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Abe had buried Big Face back at the site of the Gabbit village, but he’d left Vastor to rot. The body of his old mentor he had marked with a block of wood untouched by the flames, and with a piece of charcoal he had marked out who was buried underneath the small wooden piece.

It was still so hard to believe that Big Face was actually gone. After so long, he’d always assumed that his mentor was peacefully living at the bottom of his gorge, helping the world along in his own little way. And just when Abe saw him again, for the first time in years, it was only to have some rogue Slig shoot him.

How could the hand of Odd be so cruel? Lord Fragg had escaped justice with his hundreds of Mudokon slaves, the Gabbits had all been murdered, and now Big Face was dead! How could all these problems strike him, one after the other?

He wondered about those things as he marched north, again heading up for the Mudokon village where Alf, Lowrn, Grunn, and Ferg would surely be at the moment. Abe knew they preferred to stay where it was peaceful, except when they knew they could count on Abe’s “dumb luck” to keep them alive. And then, six years ago, he’d banished them from his sight since they were such an annoyance.

And now he was going to have to ask them for help. How far could he be brought low?

He shook his head. So much was happening in so short a time, and he didn’t know what to do about it. What was he going to do once he had his former friends along with him – were they going to have a big slap-fest with the Sligs guarding Fragg’s slave line? Maybe Abe could possess a couple Sligs and provide his friends with a few repeating laser rifles, and then they could attack the guards from under cover…

But it probably wouldn’t work. His friends had hardly ever used weapons before, and the Sligs got in plenty of practice hours – training at places like the Slig Barracks – before they were ever let out into the field, so his friends would rapidly be cut down.

He would think of something…eventually.

But what about this eerie Bringer of Pain Big Face had spoken about? Who was this figure that could heartlessly slaughter an entire village of Gabbits, using some sort of out-of-fashion blade? The sensible thing to do would be to shoot them all down using some kind of gun…unless, of course, you were so powerful you wanted to show off that you could kill an entire village with a blade weapon.

Abe didn’t know who this Bringer of Pain was, but when Abe found him, he was going to sure bring him some pain.

The Mudokon hero suddenly picked up a scent he hadn’t smelled in years: Elums.

Under ordinary circumstances, he would have been revolted by the smell. Elums were nice to have around – as mounts – but their smell was “like a burst sewer pipe,” as someone had artfully and appropriately put it down.

But Abe knew that, in such close proximity to the Mudokon village, that had to mean he was almost there, because he could smell their messenger mounts from this distance. He had almost made it to his old friends, so in this case, the smell was both revolting and frightening, because it meant he would soon have to think up a good reason to be bringing his old friends into this.

He was a hero. He knew no real fear…so he walked determinedly over the hill and to the Mudokon village.

* * *

[Lord Stanley]

I was wondering, is this fanfic longer than anyone else's? It's got a lot of chapters, and a lot of words. All it needs is more reader reviews...

[Lord Stanley]

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Glok leaned forward in his throne, narrowing his eyes coolly. “Are you certain of this?”

The BigBro Slig saluted him smartly. “Absolutely, sir. This assassin is the thing we want.”

The Glukkon leaned back. “Bring him in, then.”

“Right away, sir.”

Glok watched as the throne room doors swung open. He needed a talented assassin to perform this task, and if he got one of those worthless hunters like D. Caste Raider and his kind…

The being that walked through the door surprised him in a number of ways. First of all, the being was a Wolvark, and since Wolvarks were better known for their brutality than their stealth and speed, that meant this Wolvark was a freak among his own kind. The other thing that surprised him was that the assassin was dressed like a walking armory, sporting at least six blades on a bandolier down his chest and two pistols holstered on his hips. His hat was pulled down to shade his rough face.

The BigBro Slig pointed to the assassin. “My lord, this is Urchyn McAvi.”

“I see,” Glok murmured to himself. “Do you have something to say, McAvi? A sales pitch, perhaps?”

The Wolvark looked up, and a pair of red eyes gleamed under the brim of his hat. “I kill for pay. I kill anyone…I’d even kill you, if someone paid me enough.”

Glok smiled. “How are you at stealth missions?”

“I can do it…if I get paid enough.”

“The mission I have for you requires stealth,” the Glukkon said. “How much would I have to pay you for this mission?”

McAvi brushed at the brim of his hat. “Gimme the details first.”

“Very well.” The Glukkon narrowed his eyes. “I want you to track down and assassinate a Glukkon known as Lord Fragg. He is a threat to my empire, and I need him removed. He has a whole Slig army loosely loyal to him, and I don’t want anyone to see you, because they might trace you back to me. No traces.”

“Hmm…” The Wolvark scratched at his chin. “I’d say $15,000.”

Glok frowned. “$10,000.”

McAvi smiled darkly. “17,500.”

The Glukkon realized immediately where this was heading, and growled, “Done. Now go and assassinate Lord Fragg…if you think you can.”

The Wolvark nodded. “I can do it. I’ll take $5,000 now, the other $12,500 on completion.”

“Very well, assassin.” Glok turned to one of his attendants. “Go and bring him his $5,000…and then make sure he leaves.”

Urchyn McAvi turned to leave the room. “I won’t fail you. You can count on me to do things right.”

* * *

[Lord Stanley]

Old buddies return!

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

“No.”

Abe folded his arms across his chest. “No what?”

Alf copied his gesture. “No, we’re not going to go with you.”

Abe grinned. “Why not?”

“Because we don’t owe you anything,” Grunn spat from behind Alf. “We’ve paid up all the debts. Now beat it.”

Abe spread his hands wide, still grinning. “Is that any way to talk to a hero?”

“In this town, yeah,” Alf responded. “You may have saved everybody, a long time ago, but you’re practically worthless now.”

“That’s why I’m here,” Abe said.

Alf frowned. “What?”

“I didn’t just come to get you just to have you with me again,” the hero said. “I came to get you because I need your help.”

Lowrn raised the space just above his eye. “You—”

Alf said, “—need—”

Grunn said, “—our—”

Ferg said, “—help?”

Alf shook his head. “No way. I don’t believe I’m hearing this.”

“Well, you may as well believe it,” Abe growled. “’Cause I’m here, and I’m in need of your help.”

Alf spread his hands wide. “Okay. Suppose – just suppose – that we were listening to you. What kind of help could we give you?”

Abe winced mentally. This was the part he had been having trouble with. What was he going to do with his “friends” once he had the Marching Muds back together again?

“For one thing,” he said slowly, “you can make distractions.”

“Oh, that’s nice!” Grunn mocked. “We make noises, and get shot at!”

Abe sighed. “Yes. There’s a lot of Sligs guarding that slave line out there –”

“Slave line?” These words made Alf take notice of him again. “You didn’t mention a slave line before.”

“Yeah, all the slaves from MeechCo.” Abe unfolded his arms. “You know, the big factory down south that was grinding up the Meeches? The big one led by Lord Fragg?”

Alf nodded. “Yeah, we remember…what happened?”

“Brief summary: I went in. I set charges. I got delayed. Fragg escaped, and took all the slaves with him. I blew MeechCo to smithereens.”

Lowrn held up a hand. “So Fragg’s taken all the slaves away. Big deal. You can just go get them –”

“He’s taking them to Mantin City,” Abe expanded.

All the former Marching Mudokons and some of the bystanders gasped at the name of the Glukkon capital. Alf’s frown deepened. “Oh…you didn’t say it was that bad.”

“Yeah, it’s that bad.” Abe jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “The slaves are slowed down because of their chains, so if we hurry, we can probably cut them off before they get to Mantin City.”

Alf grinned, throwing an arm around Abe’s shoulders. “Hey, it’ll be just like old times.”

“Except now they have lasers,” Abe reminded sourly. “Lots of ’em. That’s why I need you to help.”

Grunn nodded. “I hear ya. I’m in.”

“And me!” Ferg put in cheerily. “I can’t wait to kick some Slig backside once again!”

Lowrn hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. “Looks like you have all of us with you again, Abe.”

Abe smiled, and pointed out toward Mantin City. “Well, let’s live up to our name: let’s march.”

* * *

[Lord Stanley]

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Lord Fragg sat in his newly-pitched tent somewhere in the Mongo Wilds. His Slig army had covered good ground today; it would have been easier if there had been plenty of airships they could have used, but since most of the aircraft didn’t have guns and were only lightly armored, he didn’t want to risk the loss of so many vehicles.

He looked at the map laid across the table, tapping a finger on their current location. “We arere here,” he said, more for his own benefit than for the BigBro standing silently behind him. He traced a small line out of the Mongo Wilds and into the area labeled Free Mudokon Grant, and tapped a small area in a region called the Mudokon Valley. “Abe’s friends will be out this way…that’s where we need to go.”

“Yes, sir,” the BigBro said from behind him, and the Glukkon turned to look at the guard. “We’ll catch those Muds with their shorts down, mow them all to the dirt before they can say ‘Yo-yo-yo’!”

“Don’t be so certain,” Fragg growled. “These Mudokons aren’t to be taken at all lightly; they’ve caused more destruction than any other five beings in history…except, perhaps, creatures like Lord Vantoris, and the Steef, and the Ninth Chieftain.”

“Yes, sir.” The Slig saluted. “We’ll follow orders, sir!”

“Good.” The Glukkon returned his attention to the map, studying it with the eyes of a military commander and successful businessman at the same time.

The ground between their current position and the Mudokon Valley was an area known as No-Muds-Land, an area formerly occupied by such colossal industrial landmarks as Magog Motors, Splinterz Manufacturing, and Flub Fuels – all of which no longer existed, thanks to Abe. After the destruction of the factories, the lands were still desolate from the pollution the factories had originally produced, combined with the decaying metal hulks that had once been technological terrors.

No-Muds-Land, Fragg thought. Perhaps we will encounter Abe and his friends there…and when we do, that name will be especially appropriate, where the greatest Mudokon met his doom.

Lord Fragg smiled…and went on to bed to dream fantasies of an Oddworld without Abe the Mudokon. What a wonderful world they would be living on, he thought, when the industrialist Glukkons and Sligs reigned supreme, with every single Mudokon in existence under their heel, without an Abe to dread at night! Every industrialist to come would pray thanks to Lord Fragg, for his excellent deed of destroying Abe.

Fragg smiled in his sleep. He would be something of a god to every Glukkon to follow him for his great deed, as soon as he carried it out.

* * *

[STM]

Wow, it was so rude of me I tuned out after chapter two but today I just read the entire thing, it's really good, being able to read it in one hit has given me a chance to see the development of the story. Although it's not entirely oddworld canon I still think i's the best story I've read for a long while. It must be with so many hits!

You make each character true to life though, the glukkon taking an armed caravan for his slaves for example, I can't wait to see how Abe get's through this.

My one question is what happened to humphrey? Did he get left behind?

[Lord Stanley]

Humphrey is...well, I can't reveal that. The last we saw of him, he gave away the location of the Meeches because he didn't want to die. But he will return...

And thanks for commenting! Comments are hard to come by these days.

[Hulaabeo]

Story is good, WANT MOAR!

[Lord Stanley]

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

The Bringer of Pain stood silently on a hill, thinking.

It had not been very long since he had inherited this grand title, one that he had engineered and given to himself; he had no real concept of time besides days and nights, but he guessed it had be at least a week since the incredible urge for blood had come over him, and he had begun his bloody reign of terror against the peoples of Oddworld.

He found it amusing the way that, for centuries, the continent of Mudos had been divided into three factions: the naturalists—Mudokons, Gabbits, and Grubbs; the industrialists—Glukkons, Sligs, Vykkers, Interns, Vamps, and Clakkerz; and the rogues—anyone who felt they didn’t belong in either faction and had decided to branch out from the rest on their own. All three of the factions had been at war since this unusual cycle had begun, and no one had really won. Both sides had their heroes; the Mudokons had Abe, while the industrialists had whoever was in charge.

The Bringer of Pain had no sides. He was his own side, and his own hero.

Why did he have any need of participation in this three-way war? He had enough power on his own to destroy everyone that got in his way, and then look back on the slaughtered bodies and laugh till his guts grew loose. That seemed like a nice way to spend his evening…and the next evening after that one…and all the evenings after that, until he finally met his end.

But that wouldn’t be for a long time. That was obvious. It had been so very simple to wipe out everyone in the Gabbit village; he’d barely had to exert himself to wipe out those pathetic pacifists.

The Bringer of Pain needed no aid to make him utterly powerful. He used the Dark, and the Dark used him. The two were one. He gained all the power that darkness could grant him, to further darkness’ cause. It was a fair exchange.

The Bringer of Pain sighed once. It was a pity that Abe had to be on the other side of the exchange. Even though he might have been a naturalist hero, working for the Mudokons against the industrialists in this war of nature versus machines, Abe had such Light power within him it was quite a pity that he would try to exterminate the Bringer of Pain when he found him.

The dark being knew he would catch up with Abe, or Abe would catch up with him. There was no other way Destiny could go about its course. And when they met…

The being smiled. When they met, there would be such a collision of Light and Dark as had never been seen on Oddworld before, not even when the ancient heroes had finally vanquished the Ninth Chieftain.

It was almost a pity that the outcome of this battle was inevitably in the Bringer of Pain’s favor. Light would always succumb to the Dark…and the Bringer of Pain was simply the embodiment of the Dark.

He turned and moved off into the daylight…a day that would be scarred by the murder of countless more innocent people.

* * *

[Lord Stanley]

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Dawn found Abe and his little band doing what they had always done best: moving across some barren wasteland on another epic crusade to save the Mudokon race from Glukkon enslavement. Except that, with the liberation of all the Glukkon establishments in the area, they were now able to use a few Elums as mounts, and were now crossing the beautiful terrain much faster than they would have done on foot.

Abe tried to breathe through his stitched-up lips as much as he could; the smell the Elums produced was totally appalling, to say the least. They were excellent at transporting the band of Mudokons around, but the smell was almost as bad as being shot at by BigBro Sligs.

As they rode, he told them what he had accomplished with the MeechCo mission – how he had infiltrated, set the bombs, and then had been forced to escape with the Mudokon slaves still in Fragg’s possession due to Fragg’s anti-possession settings in his video cameras. He continued the story all the way up to his return to the village.

He kept a frown on his face the whole way. The loss of Big Face was still fresh enough to cause him pain.

Alf wiped at his eyes with his enormous hands. “I…I never thought I’d hear the day…when Big Face died.”

“Neither did I,” Abe growled. “I just thought he’d live on forever…but then, no one can.”

“So neither will this Lord Fragg when we catch up to him,” Ferg said. “I’ve got a few things to say to him.”

Abe laughed coldly. “All I’ve got to say to him is in the barrel of this Snuzi pistol.”

He kept his mouth shut as they walked across the Mudokon territory. With the continual work of the Mudokons through the Storm Circles, the territory had sprouted up with beautiful green plants and was full of natural wildlife, including Elums, Paramites, Scrabs, Slurgs, Slegs, Fleeches, and yet other creatures that could either be mild-tempered and cute or mean and dangerous.

He knew the Sligs had to be this way. Fragg would doubtlessly be bringing his slaves to Mantin City to keep them safe from Abe’s prying fingers and chanting – because, outside of the now-destroyed MeechCo, there would be no video camera settings that would kill all the slaves. It would be safe for him to chant…at least, he hoped so.

Abe got so wrapped up in thinking that he forgot to breathe through his mouth, and he accidentally breathed in through his nose, and the scent of Elum poured in through his nasal glands. Immediately he felt a strong desire to puke over the side of his mount, but since Alf and Lowrn were flanking him within armreach, he didn’t think puking on them would boost their relationship much.

Alf suddenly posed the question he’d been dreading the whole journey: “How are we gonna free all the slaves?”

Abe gritted his teeth. “I don’t know.”

“We could…uh…cause a distraction,” Ferg said. “We lure some Sligs away, while you possess some others and get them all separated…maybe one of us could help the slaves get out.”

“Maybe.” Abe shook his head. “But Fragg has a lot of Sligs guarding his line. And he went to Mantin City by airship, so he got there before all the others did. He might have picked up some extra.”

Alf laughed. “Hey, we’re heroes! We can deal with it!”

“Maybe,” Abe said again. “But don’t count on it.”

“Optimism is good for things!” Grunn said. “If we’re all down in the dirt about it, we’re never going to get anything done.”

Abe decided to set his mind to planning a way to bust the slaves free. It was a dilemma he was going to have to figure out himself, because – quite frankly – Alf and the others weren’t going to be much help in that area. They just provided him with extra hands and feet and heads.

He scratched at his chin, dividing his mind between planning and breathing through his mouth to avoid tasting the foul Elum stench. Fragg and his Slig minions couldn’t be invincible…no one was invincible. Abe had managed to free all the other slaves he had set his mind to breaking free, so why did this have to be different?

A plan popped into his mind all of a sudden, and he grinned at the idea. He had this Snuzi pistol, after all.

Yeah. Yeah, that would work nicely.

He was still congratulating himself on his master planning when they heard the gunshots.

The Mudokons immediately whirled to face the east. Abe gritted his teeth; gunshots meant trouble, and trouble wasn’t something they wanted to run into before it was time to deal with it.

“Come on!” he said, turning his Elum. “Let’s go check it out.”

He spurred his not-so-trusty and oh-so-smelly steed toward the sound. He heard his friends confer for about ten seconds before riding after him, all trying – and failing – to keep quiet.

Abe hoped it wasn’t Fragg, not this close to him. If it was Fragg, this was a problem. The only way his new plan could be put to use would be if they got to the Slig camp by night, so they couldn’t be seen in this mostly-open terrain.

Still, he had to check it out. That was what he did, after all.

* * *

[STM]

The mudokons are really becoming badass

[Grieva]

Great chapters LS, nice work

I was thinking about doing a bit of fan art for this fic, just did some scale checks, Abe wielding a Snuzi is even more impressive than I thought
http://oddworldlibrary.net/archives/...=RAMO0158.jpg6

[Lord Stanley]

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Urchyn McAvi checked the power charge on his gun. Seven hundred and fifty laser bolts were ready to be blasted at whoever got in his way. Next he checked his supply of grenades. Three fragmentation and one poison gas. He did a quick checkup on his breathing mask, area scanner, radio, missile launcher, boot rockets, and stealth booster. All functional.

The bounty hunter nodded to himself as he crossed over the hill. It was his equipment that had served him well all these years, even if his clients had sometimes proved to be unworthy. His muscles had failed him occasionally and his mind had grown close to snapping from the mental exhaustion of the stupid beings he was constantly surrounded by, but his equipment had never failed him.

He figured Lord Fragg wouldn’t be that hard to catch up with. It was not so hard to find that the Glukkon was on his way to the Mudokon village to kill Abe, and McAvi knew that his boot rockets could propel him across the land much faster than Fragg’s Slig army could march. Even if his boots grew close to overheating quickly, the solar panels that powered his rockets would recharge faster than a Slig could sleep off his exhaustion.

He twirled his carbine in an almost idle fashion. He wasn’t an idle kind of Wolvark, but when he was walking around in the region known as No-Muds-Land, with nothing but rock and dirt and mud as far as the naked eye could see, he tended to get a little bored. He regaled himself with thoughts of collecting the $12,500 when he returned from killing Lord Fragg.

That was when he heard the gunshots from somewhere close nearby.

Urchyn McAvi was not at all scared at the thought of other people close by with guns. Instead, he figured there might be a bounty on a couple of these people, and since he was a bounty hunter by trade, he could make a little extra moolah along the way.

He turned and activated his boot jets, rocketing toward the source of the sound.

* * *

Lord Fragg felt a brand new surge of pride that he had mechanically enhanced the length of his natural legs, because it allowed him to cover a lot of ground at a decent speed, faster than any other Glukkon alive. With their mechanical strength added to his own, he was also able to keep himself on the march as long as any of the gruff Slig minions marching around him.

All the Sligs were splattered with mud and caked with dust from the long march across No-Muds-Land, but they managed to retain a sense of eagerness. The reason for that behavior probably stemmed out of a desire to kill the terrorist Abe, when no one else had been able to do that for the thirty years Abe had been a threat.

Fragg didn’t mind their enthusiasm; as long as it inspired them, he was all right with it. It helped his soldiers keep their minds on the task at hand, and soldiers who were happy about their task would always be much more willing to accept his orders, as long as they led toward the objective. Killing Abe seemed to be a popular undertaking for all the Sligs.

“Soon, Abe,” the Glukkon whispered. “You’ll be out of the way. I’ll have the political status I need to put Glok out of his place. I don’t have to us MeechCo to become emperor of Glukksonia.”

That was when he heard the gunshots.

He threw up one hand, shouting, “Halt!”

The huge Slig army came to a sudden stumbling stop, all turning toward the sound of the shots. They were four sharp notes, ringing over the sound of Slig legs squealing.

Fragg motioned toward one of the Slig commanders. “You, take a squad up and check out what’s going on.”

“Yes sir!” The Slig gestured to his troops. “Squads 4 and 6, move out. 4 will pacify the situation while 6 scouts out the lay and reports back to us.”

The Sligs threw hasty salutes and hustled off to do his bidding.

* * *

[Lord Stanley]

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

The Bringer of Pain smiled coldly to himself as he walked, hands folded behind his back in what he figured was an imperial manner. His unusual manner of walking – if walking it could be called – made it almost awkward to move with his hands behind his back, but he was a powerful being, and because of the way he went armed to his razor-sharp teeth no one would dare to laugh at him, or he would rip their guts out.

It was so simple, this plan of his. He simply had to draw all the opposing parties into a box from which they could not escape, and they would all get rid of each other.

He had seen them all: Abe and his Marching Mudokons – ironically, they were mounted on Elums – along with Urchyn McAvi the Wolvark hunter, and Lord Fragg with his Slig army. All were against all. The Bringer of Pain figured that if he brought them into close quarters with each other, he could get rid of a lot of them.

But not Abe. Abe was much too powerful to be exterminated by Lord Fragg and Urchyn McAvi. But this was too good of an opportunity to miss, to show just how powerful he was.

He moved into the box canyon…and saw his victim.

A Grubb was walking about, picking daisies and adding them to his growing pile of picked flowers, seemingly without a care in the world. He would make the perfect being to get rid of.

The Bringer of Pain drew his Blitz Packer and fired four shots. One went in the Grubb’s heat, the second and third through his eyes, and the fourth in and out of his forehead. The stupid naturalist creature crashed face-first to the ground without a sound.

The Bringer of Pain took great pleasure at the way the sound of the shots reverberated around the box canyon. It would bring the trapped beings to this place, where they would all die.

He knew the other beings would be very close now; he hurried forward and holstered his Blitz Packer, pulling out a cutting knife from his vast supply of weapons. He crouched down beside the dead Grubb and slit letters through the creature’s body.

the bringer of pain was here

He turned and left the scene at a pace that might have seemed frightened, if it had not been intentional. Fragg and the others would fall into the trap…and they would pay for it.

* * *

[Lord Stanley]

CHAPTER THIRTY

King Glok nodded his head. “Interesting…I never knew the Vykkers had so much technology.”

Beside him, the spindly form of Humphrey III nodded vigorously. “Yes, my lord. My grandfather, Humphrey the First, and his partner Irwin, made a host of achievements that could greatly advance the Glukkon bid for total power.”

The Glukkon considered all that he had heard. “The Babychow and Butt-Flo I don’t have any use for…but the Chill Pill sounds interesting. You say if it is magnified, it can be used as a cryo grenade?”

“Yes, sir.”

“That’s good…we need more efficient ways to make powerful grenades,” the Glukkon sighed.

It wasn’t as if they had a war on their hands, but if Fragg decided to use that Slig army and turn against Fragg and the rest of the empire, there very well could be a great civil war. Glok had many more BigBro Sligs on his side, but Fragg seemed to have a great confidence and a knack for strategy, and it could prove to be a problem when Fragg killed Abe.

Glok knew Fragg would kill Abe; with so many Sligs at his command, there was no way Abe could survive. No, it was Fragg he was much more worried about, if it was possible for an emperor to be worried.

“What else had they invented?” he asked.

Humphrey folded two of his arms behind his back, while the other two cracked their knuckles noisily. “Ah, let me see, then…oh, yes. The Snoozer was one of our greatest achievements.”

Glok frowned. “Snoozer?”

“The name is not, ah, to take first impressions from,” the Vykker advised.

“Oh, that’s better.” The king nodded. “Explain yourself.”

Humphrey cleared his throat noisily. “The Snoozer was originally designed to be a sort of anesthesia-administering device for some of the more volatile test subjects at Vykkers’ Labs. It was a robot twelve feet tall, three-legged, with a stun gun on the bottom that could quickly knock out an unarmored being. But…”

Glok nodded. “Go on; explain.”

“But it turned into something of a huge weapon,” the Vykker explained. “It was not only huge, but it was also fitted with a small laser rifle on top, and that made for more destructive use. Then they encased it in armor that could stand up to an eight-rifle barrage for a full minute.”

“And I take it that armor could be reinforced to make a much stronger enforcer,” the Glukkon said.

“Yes, my lord.”

The Glukkon narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “Do you have diagrams for this…Snoozer?”

Humphrey smiled, revealing his repulsive needle teeth. “Not at this very moment, my lord, but if I am granted access to your computer systems, I could dig up some charts.”

Glok smiled in what he hoped was a patronizing fashion. “You have my permission to find these diagrams, and bring them to me.”

The Vykker turned to leave. “Thank you, my lord! I will –”

“You will also have a Donner Packer rifle at your head the whole time, to make sure you don’t dig too deep into my records,” the Glukkon king said, in a voice that he didn’t attempt to disguise his utter disgust for the Vykker minion. “Now go.”

Going very pale, Humphrey staggered out of the room, with a BigBro Slig forcing him out at gunpoint.

Glok smiled as minion and soldier exited the throne room. Humphrey was not subtle enough in his attempts to get into the Glukkon secrets; in order to do so, he had revealed many of his grandfather’s secrets from Vykkers’ Labs, and now was getting nothing in return.

It was almost amusing, being supreme ruler of Glukksonia and master of the industrial world, having an active hand in everyone else’s destinies, and making everyone miserable.

Once he had the plans for the Snoozer, he would suddenly have a far more formidable army to face the traitor Fragg. Even if the ambitious businessman didn’t openly make war against Glok, the king decided he was not going to let Fragg back into Mantin City without a couple laser holes through his traitorous body.

And now to business…

* * *

[Lord Stanley]

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Abe rode down into the box canyon, with Alf, Lowrn, Grunn, and Ferg hot on his Elum’s heels. He could smell the stench of fresh blood in the air, and at the sight of the dead Grubb on the ground he felt a fresh surge of anger at the world for its cruelty.

It seemed his whole mission was doomed to be nothing but one catastrophe after another.

“It’s a dead Grubb!” Alf called out from behind him. “Who killed him?”

“I don’t know,” Abe called out, as his Elum picked his way down into the box canyon, “but whoever did it is going to pay.”

It was the work of thirty seconds to get down to the dead being’s body and dismount from his Elum. Abe crouched beside the body, and when he saw the words drawn in blood across the Grubb’s body, the fury that enveloped him transcended hot.

the bringer of pain was here

“Bringer of Pain!” he screamed at the sky. “Wherever you are, I’m going to find you and rip your guts out!”

Alf turned the Grubb over onto his stomach, covering the bloody letters. “Hey, Abe…that’s not very nice to –”

Abe whirled around, raising his clenching his fists. “I don’t care, Alf! This Pain Bringer is a murdering scum, and I’m going to kill him!”

Alf ducked back, cowering under what Abe judged to be righteous fury –

And suddenly Alf was pointing up the hilltop. “Abe! Sligs on the hilltop!”

Abe whirled around, his anger turning to surprise and fear as he saw that his companion was right. At least a dozen Sligs were appearing at the top of the box canyon opposite where he and his friends had entered, raising rifles to their shoulders.

“Get under cover!” he shouted.

He cast a glance around the area; there was not much cover to be found, but for the huge boulder under the cliff overhang. He ducked forward, racing at the huge rock.

Alf, Lowrn, Ferg, and Grunn charged after him.

Then the lasers started to fly.

Making loud buzzing noises, the concentrated beams of light blazed down from the Sligs’ Barrage rifles flying down the hill to burn at the Mudokons. Abe ducked and dodged madly, confident that his friends would copy him, hoping his random pattern would let their fiery shots hit nothing but the rocky ground of the canyon.

Holes burnt in the ground all around them from near-hits by the Sligs atop the ridge. Abe and his friends arrived behind the rock, but the laser barrage continued, chipping bits off the rock’s edge. He could hear and feel the shots that struck the rock, and could feel its temperature rising rapidly under his hands.

“This is bad,” he growled. “Stuck in a canyon with a Slig force.”

Ferg winced as a little bit of rock bounced off his forehead. “Do you think they’re part of Fragg’s slave gaurds?”

“It’s a good bet,” Abe grunted. “But I’d have thought they’d be farther north of here…”

A shiver ran down his spine that wasn’t caused by the impact of laser against his rock protection. “Unless Fragg’s brought Sligs along here to get me personally.”

At the sound of hissing flames from somewhere uncomfortably close, Abe whirled around, drawing his Snuzi pistol. He widened his huge orange eyes as he saw a Wolvark racing toward him, propelled by a pair of boot rockets that sent him flying across the box canyon at a frantic rate. What made the matter a problem was the laser carbine the Wolvark was holding, and that its trigger was depressed, spraying a long stream of laser bolts toward the Mudokons.

“Duck and roll!” Abe screamed. “We’re being flanked!”

* * *

[Lord Stanley]

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Alf and the others didn’t take more than 0.001 seconds to respond to his yell; they threw themselves sideways, trying not to expose themselves to the Slig fire from above while trying to dodge the Wolvark’s laser fire from close ahead of them.

Abe performed his best shooting maneuver: throwing himself sideways, he went into a roll and came back up again firing. The Wolvark dodged with amazing agility, but for several seconds the attacker did not fire, and in that moment, Abe realized the Sligs above weren’t firing.

Apparently they had seen the Wolvark and figured they would wait to see how that ended up.

Awful nice of them to stop firing, Abe thought, as he fired at the Wolvark again.

The bounty hunter – at least, that’s what Abe figured he was – dodged to the side even before the trigger was fully depressed, neatly dodging the shot. The Wolvark then opened fire again, and Abe ducked and dodged as madly as he could, trying to fire at the attacker without getting killed.

Bullets flew from his Snuzi pistol, but he didn’t think he scored any hits. The lasers flew thick and fast; one of them scorched his foot, and another burned a gash in his upper shoulder.

Burning with pain and even more brightly with rage, hardly able to see with blinking at the light of the laser bolts, he struggled to see where the agile Wolvark had moved to, tracking him with his gun. He decided to let his new friend speak.

He fired one more time.

Blood spurted from the Wolvark’s chest, then the bounty hunter fell to the ground, his boot rockets still activated, plowing him forward through the rocky ground. Abe watched the bounty hunter slide forward across the ground until he slammed headfirst into the canyon wall, and the boot rockets detached themselves from his ankles and propelled themselves down the length of the canyon.

“Nice work, Abe!” Grunn called out –

And the Sligs opened fire again. One shot grazed Abe’s forehead before he could scramble away toward the rock cover again. His whole body burning from the close hits from the enemies scattered around the canyon, he barely made it behind the rock before something else came flying down the canyon at them.

It looked suspiciously like a clenched fist, and it landed with a sharp thunk.

Someone screamed “Grenade –!”

And then it exploded, and there was a bright flash of light and pain, and Abe knew no more.

* * *

[Lord Stanley]

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Lord Fragg waited expectantly as Squad 6 came running back, eagerly waving their guns. “Abe, sir! We’ve got Abe pinned down in that canyon!”

The Glukkon felt an unexpected and uncharacteristic rise of enthusiasm. “Good, good! Mow him down!”

“We’re trying to, sir!” The Slig made a motion indicating the box canyon. “There was a Wolvark a minute ago that was trying to kill him from down there with him, but Abe shot him –”

“Abe shot him?!” Fragg thundered. He put a hand to his forehead. “Oh, this can’t be good.”

“We just knocked him out with a grenade, sir.”

Fragg whirled around, eyes going wide. “Go on, then! Finish the job! Kill Abe – that’s what we came here for!”

The Slig nodded. “Right away, sir!”

Fragg watched as Squad 6 hustled back the way they had come, all of them eagerly chattering something about blowing Abe’s brains out the back of his head, about being promoted to the top of the barracks and becoming Slig generals. Fragg thought about it for a moment, then he hurried down after them; with these Sligs Glok had given him, you could never tell how competent they were going to be.

He stopped to grab someone’s binoculars before following the Sligs to the top of the hill. His heart beating madly in his chest at the thought of finishing his mission already, he lifted the glass to his eyes and looked down to the canyon floor.

There he was: Abe. Lying stunned on the canyon floor, with two other Mudokons lying beside him. Another pair were crouched beside them, both trying frantically to revive the unconscious ones. Fragg took great notice of the blood trickling from the shrapnel wounds in Abe’s back – and wondered, not for the first time in his life, why the terrorist’s skin was blue instead of green like the others.

He motioned down toward the Mudokons. “Charge!” he yelled. “Kill them all, now!”

“Right away, boss!”

All twelve in Squad 4 and another twelve from Squad 6 charged down the hill, raising their weapons high above their heads and roaring war cries. Fragg smiled as they went down; this would be a day to remember.

The day Abe died.

* * *

[Lord Stanley]

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

“These plans…” Glok, unable to wave a hand at them, nodded his head at the papers. “…they’re magnificent!”

Humphrey stood nervously on one side, twisting all four of his hands. “I, ah, had hoped you’d think so, your majesty.”

Glok paced quickly around the Snoozer design, unable to walk slowly due to the matter of walking on his hands, which required him to move quickly if he moved anywhere. He stared intently down at the complicated blueprints laid on the floor, admiring the way the finished product would look.

He turned to Humphrey. “I take it you could take a team of Sligs and put one of these together?”

The Vykker – having no lips – licked the edges of his mouth. “If I had the proper materials.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Glok snorted airily. “I’m the Glukkon king; I can get all the metal and wires and guns in Glukksonia if I asked for them.”

“I, ah…was only concerned about your trust in me,” Humphrey said.

Glok stopped pacing, and seated himself on his throne. He raised his brow. “And are you worth trusting, Humphrey? Or are you just another one of the people who want to leech off me for as long as they can, and then try to make me look like an idiot because I don’t smoke cigars?”

Humphrey laughed shrilly. “Oh, it’s not a problem, sir. You see, smoking has an extremely negative effect on our lungs…smoking is terrible for our health, so Vykkers don’t smoke.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Glok said under his breath, and then, louder, “I’ll see to it you have a proper work team and the materials. I’ll survey the finished Snoozer by tomorrow night, and I’ll see if it’s worth the price.”

The Vykker bowed. “Yes, your majesty.”

Glok turned to the same BigBro Slig who had done the honors a little while ago. “Guard? Escort him to the laboratory.”

As the guard moved off to do his bidding, Glok turned to one of his Intern attendants. “And you, get the materials I need. I’m going to smoke a cigar.”

The Intern blinked three times, but did not say anything on account of his lips being securely stitched up. The attendant nodded, produced a pad from his pocket, and began scribbling on it. Glok had picked that Intern for the job since his handwriting closely resembled Glok’s own, so now he did not have to even sign his name on legal documents. The Intern was paid by getting every new MP3 song that came out, free of charge, and if the Intern ever tried to do anything that Glok didn’t like, he could simply tap a button on his wrist and the Intern would die.

Glok turned and skittered down the steps of his throne, moving toward a big statue of his great-uncle-once-removed, Molluck the Great. He really had no intentions of smoking a cigar – disgusting lung-busters! – but it was his way of telling the Intern he didn’t want any attendants to come with him to his private chamber.

He banged his head on the stone Molluck’s face, and the statue slid aside for a brief moment, just enough time for him to duck inside the opening, and get inside his secret chamber. He smiled in the darkness within, and began to plot.

* * *

[Lord Stanley]

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Urchyn McAvi came back to his senses suddenly.

The world was still lit, so it was still daylight. He could feel the hot pain of the bullet that had gone deep in his side, but that didn’t prevent him from leaning back so he could look up.

Three of the Mudokons lay on the ground, bleeding from small wounds that indicated shrapnel damage, perhaps from a grenade. The other two were trying to awaken them, and failing right now.

McAvi felt a cold flash of fear. If the Sligs had killed Abe, there would be no reward to collect! He alone wanted to collect the excessive bounty on the terrorist Mudokon – no one else should be allowed to have that right! And if the Sligs were coming…

He pulled himself up to his knees, and then painfully onto his feet. The bullet seemed to add thirty pounds to his weight, but he managed to stand without falling, and started moving toward the Mudokons.

He raised his carbine toward them. “Hands up, Muds!”

The two Mudokons whirled around, eyes going wide. “What the Odd – I thought you were dead!” one of them screeched.

McAvi grinned wolfishly. “Good; I hoped I could prove how stupid you Muds are, and it looks like I’ve succeeded.” He switched the gun settings to stun. “Now put your hands on your heads.”

Both Muds folded their hands across their chests, shaking their heads in a stubborn fashion. “No.”

McAvi nodded, and fired two stun blasts, catching them both in the head. Both collapsed alongside their comrades.

But the Wolvark hardly had time to think about his victory before he heard the sound of roaring from somewhere up above. He whirled around to look up the canyon, and his eyes widened as he saw two dozen Sligs charging down the canyon at him, guns raised high above their heads as they ran at him. There were too many of them!

Or were there? McAvi certainly was more capable than Mudokons were…and Sligs tended to be incompetent.

He unclipped his single poison gas grenade from his belt and hurled it up the hill at where the Sligs would be in about five seconds. When the item hit the ground, it erupted in a large cloud of green gas, and almost before the Sligs knew what was happening, they had charged right into it.

Most Slig masks could breathe through gas…but not this kind. Its poison molecules were so small, they could slip right through the miniscule fans built into Slig masks. Thus, as soon as they charged into it, the Sligs came to a sudden halt, coughing and gagging for breath.

Grinning, McAvi switched his carbine back to kill settings and opened fire on the Sligs, aiming for their mainly-unprotected heads. The soldiers fell to the ground, either suffocating from the toxic gas or brain-burned from his laser fire.

It took less time than he had expected to get rid of all twenty-four of the Sligs. He only had to shoot about half of them; the others died of the gases within thirty seconds. He was careful to stay out of the way of the deadly green cloud that roiled and burned the air where the Sligs had stood.

He shook his head, switching his gun to stun. “Those soldiers could use a few years more training…if they were still alive.”

He started to turn –

And suddenly felt the cold barrel of a pistol being pressed to the back of his head, and heard the cock.

“Don’t move,” said a distinctly Mudokon voice. “Drop the gun.”

McAvi snarled as he dropped his gun to the ground. “And I thought you Mudokons were stupid and worthless.”

“Not if we can help it,” the Mudokon said, and stepped around the bounty hunter so he could see who it was, keeping the gun at uncomfortably close range.

McAvi clenched his teeth at the sight of the blue-skinned Mudokon. “Abe.”

The blue-skinned terrorist grinned broadly. “Yeah, that’s right.” He waved a hand up at the Sligs. “Why’d you kill them?”

The Wolvark laughed coldly. “Why? Were they friends of yours?”

Abe clicked the cock several times. “Don’t get stupid, Wolvark. Tell me, or I’ll shoot.”

“Fine. I didn’t want them to have the reward.”

Abe frowned. “Reward?”

McAvi smiled. “Yeah, there’s a huge reward out on your head, Abe. If I kill or capture you, I’d have enough to retire on.”

Abe’s frown deepened. “Look, bounty hunter. I owe you one for killing the Sligs up there –”

“Yeah, you’re welcome,” the Wolvark mocked.

“–but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you have your gun back,” the blue-skinned guy went on. “Instead, I’m going to let you walk right out of this canyon. Go to the other Sligs if you want, but I don’t think they’ll like you much after what you did to those others. Get out the other side of the canyon if you want, and start running.”

McAvi gritted his teeth. “If I could kill you, I would.”

Abe smiled. “Now get running.”

Growling, the Wolvark turned and hurried away. How could he have been beaten by a stupid Mudokon? There was no conceivable way it could happen like that! He was the greatest bounty hunter on Oddworld – and he would return, one way or another.

Hopefully, he could return with a bigger gun.

* * *

[Lord Stanley]

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Lord Fragg laid his head slowly into the palm of his hand. The Mudokon and all four of his fellows had just scrambled up the side of the canyon and disappeared away, and the Wolvark had done the same only a few minutes ago. Through his binoculars, the Glukkon had witnessed the whole scene of disaster: the Sligs had charged in with guns waving, as they should, but that Wolvark had somehow turned against them, deciding to take down all the Slig minions single-handedly.

How could things have gone so wrong? How could the Mudokons have gotten safely away from twenty-four Sligs? How could fate have twisted itself around in so many ways?

He turned and hurried back toward the remaining eighteen Slig squads. “The Mudokons are escaping!” he roared. “Get after them – ignore the Wolvark, kill Abe!”

Without even a word of acknowledgement, five squads rushed away toward the place where Abe and his pals had been standing a few seconds before. “Keep your guns at the waist!” Fragg shouted after them. “As soon as you see them, fire!”

The Sligs hurried off to do his bidding, following his instructions. Fragg felt his hope dying quickly in his chest; it had looked so certain that Abe would be dying down in that box canyon, but through some twist the Mudokons were getting away on Elums.

Fragg didn’t intend to let anything slip now, not when he had King Glok at his heels, biting at him to destroy Abe.

“I won’t fail Glok, because for now, his purposes suit mine,” he growled to himself. “But soon, he’ll see that his purposes aren’t the ones that will come to fruition.”

The Glukkon stormed off toward the center of his Slig forces, the only place he felt safe at the moment.

* * *

The Bringer of Pain stood at the top of a nearby hill, a contented smile on his face. Fragg had lost two dozen Sligs in the trap, while Urchyn McAvi had been wounded in the chest. Abe and his friends had escaped, wounded by a Slig grenade.

The dark one felt he had served the Dark well today. He turned and moved off into the wilderness, planning how he should get rid of Fragg and meet up with Abe at the same time.

In effect, planning how best he might bring pain to everyone.

* * *

[Lord Stanley]

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Night found the peaceful Mudokon camp out in the area ironically known as No-Muds-Land. Abe sat with his back against a rough rock, stirring at the coals of the fire they had lit, staring with orange eyes at the gray ashes. Thinking silently.

Thinking about how he had managed to escape.

He knew it wasn’t luck that had allowed him to get out of that trap. If luck had been all that had been on his side, he certainly would have been killed while he was unconscious from the grenade blast. But then that Wolvark had turned to strike down the Sligs before turning his attention to Abe, and that had given him time to get his pistol up to the bounty hunter’s head, and make his escape.

It was almost as if it were a story, the way things had worked out. But it was his real life as it happened to him.

On Elum-back, they had managed to get out of the Sligs’ range before any shots could be fired after them. They had ridden most of the afternoon, with occasional stops to rest their mounts, trying to get away from Fragg and his Slig army.

One thing Abe was certain of: the slaves were not in that army. They were still going to Mantin City.

“Tomorrow,” he said, “we continue for Mantin City. We will destroy those Sligs because we have to.”

And after that, he would destroy the Bringer of Pain – the one that had been responsible for the whole trap in the box canyon. That was the only way Abe could see that it had happened so theatrically: the gunshots had brought all the parties together, and from there everything had been close to destruction.

But whatever the Bringer of Pain had been planning, it hadn’t succeeded. He was still alive, the Wolvark had escaped, and the Sligs were still there.

At least, Abe hoped everything was going against the Bringer of Pain. Whoever or whatever that sick murderer was, he was a great threat to Oddworld as a whole – responsible for the destruction of an entire Gabbit village, and that trap had almost destroyed many people.

Abe sighed. It seemed as if his whole life had been devoted to destroying everything. RuptureFarms, SoulStorm Mining, Bonewerks, Slig Barracks, SoulStorm Brewery, Windmill Brewery, Meep Farms, Magog Motors, Splinterz Manyfacturing, FlubCo Fuels, Vykkers Labs, PulseCo, Scrabby-O, SlurgBurg, MeechCo, and so many other places. Hundreds of Sligs had been destroyed, either because of his possessions or otherwise; he had been responsible for the deaths of many Glukkon businessmen, Vykker doctors, Intern assistants, Clakker settlers, and other beings. Now he was after the Bringer of Pain.

But then, would he rather be back at RuptureFarms, worked to death or perhaps shot by a Slig? No. This was his path, and he would walk it as best he was able.

At the sound of approaching steps, slow and heavy, Abe whirled around, his hand going immediately to the Snuzi pistol. He briefly glanced at the shots; there were only 34 bullets left in the compartment.

“Who’s there?” he snapped roughly. “Identify yourself or be shot!”

“Abe!” a voice called, a voice he hadn’t heard in many years. “Abe, it’s me!”

Abe’s eyes widened, and he slowly lowered the gun to his side. “Jake?” he asked. “Is that you?”

“Yeah!” A Mudokon figure shuffled out into the pale glow of the fire coals. Abe grinned broadly at the sight of his old friend.

He had known Jake for years and years. The Mudokon had somehow been attracted to Abe’s needs – every time there was a spirit ring Abe needed, or a healing power recharge – Jake had teleported there. The shaman could not teleport on command; only when Abe needed something.

“I guess you needed my help,” Jake said. “’Cause I’m here.”

Abe nodded, grinning. “We need all the help we can get.”

Jake pointed north. “I’ve seen the slave line; they’re up that way, only about five miles away. They’re bedded down for the night.”

Abe laughed. “Good! I’ll get my friends awake –”

“No,” Jake said coldly. “These guards have deadman interlocks on many of the Mudokons; if the Sligs are killed, whatever Mudokon they’re attached to will die as well.”

Abe snarled. “Oh, that’s great. That’s what Fragg had back at MeechCo. Is there any way to disable the interlocks?”

“Lord Fragg would know.”

Abe slowly smiled again. “I have an idea.”

Jake smiled. “Now it’s safe to wake your fellows. I’ll help you.”

Abe nodded, and set about his work.

* * *