The Dungeon Hound Vol. 1 pts. 14-15 (Patreon)

((First off, real quick, it might be obvious by now but I decided to take the week off for Easter. I completely lost track of what time it was and I always take Easter week off. Well, technically, I guess Easter week is next week, but I usually consider the week leading up to the holiday to be that holiday's week. Plus it's how days off in government and academic workplaces work. Anyways, yeah. I took the week off since I realized what week it was. I did remember that I promised in the weekly update to post more TQH this week, though, so here's a couple of chapters of it!))

[Vol. 1 pt. 14]

After I pointed out what food I wanted via pointing my front right paw at my choices, the strange girl set me down on top of the nearest table and left to grab my choices for me. She came back a few moments later with a plate of food and a bowl of water that she put in front of me on the table.

I felt weird standing on top of the table, but it was better than eating on the floor.

“There,” the girl said before sitting across from me.

“Thanks,” I barked, not that she could understand me.

The food in front of me was the first real food I saw in a while. Small noodles covered in melted cheese, some leafy vegetables on the side, and a clean bowl of water. The rest of the food up there looked pretty good, too.

The food in this place was better than in the holding prison by far. Seriously better. I felt like I was eating a beast’s shit at the other prison. Now that I made my choice to be entertainment, though, they made sure I ate good.

Well, whenever they weren’t throwing me into the dungeon before I even had a chance to eat.

I felt like I was in an abusive relationship with the prison. They threw me into the dungeon to let me die for entertainment, and then they treated me to all sorts of delicious options, gave me a cute nurse to heal me up, and let me roam free on my days off. Maybe not totally free, but roaming around the prisoner area was better than being stuck in a cramped cell all day.

Heck, I probably had a higher standard of living in there than I did before. I love my parents, but I could only eat so much of the same old stew and stale loafs of bread before getting sick and tired of their cooking. Not to mention that I had my own cell where I wouldn’t have to listen to them going at it in the next room over.

The only problem was the whole, well, fact that I might not be entertaining enough, not earn enough votes to stay in here, and then be tossed into a death game.

That part didn’t sound too good.

But at least the food was good. Seriously good.

Though, while I was digging in by shoving my maw into the cheesy noodles, I heard… giggling. Creepy, almost erotic giggling.

And it came from directly across the table.

“You’re so cute when you eat,” the girl said, her elbows now up on the table to rest her hands under her chin as she swayed her head from side to side with a smile.

Things felt seriously awkward all of a sudden. How was I supposed to eat while she was staring at me like that? Sure, I appreciated her helping me out with getting food… but I was quickly realizing how weird she was. There was something seriously off about her.

“I watched you in the tower from here. You did really good for somebody stuck in such a tiny body. Such a cute, fluffy, tiny body.”

Yeah… this girl is weird.

“And you know, I overheard some of the others talk about how you got in here. You killed that bastard elite, didn’t you?” Her breathing grew heavier. “I heard you punched him to death with your own hands. I already knew I’d get along with you when I first heard about you… and then I saw you.”

Riiiiiight. I took a bite of my vegetables and drank some water. I had no way of talking back to her, and I also had no way of leaving with my food without probably spilling it all over the place, so I just sort of had to stand there and listen to her talk at me.

“I really respect people like you. You know what needs to be done and are willing to do whatever it takes to survive. If more people were like you then the world would be a better place, don’t you think? Oh! You want to know how I got in here? You do, right?”

I was nervous and had a feeling that she was going to tell me regardless of how I answered, so I nodded just to get it over with.

She sounded way too happy to get my confirmation. “I knew you’d care! A-anyways, it’s nothing as special as what you did. I volunteered to come here to spread the word of the hero who loved! The others in the enclave told me that it would be dangerous to come here… but we didn’t hear about them banning all worship of the hero who loved. So… I got arrested for ‘spreading cultist propaganda.’ But we’re not even a cult! Do you know about the hero who loved? I bet you do, right? I’m sure you would know!”

The girl’s behavior made a lot more sense after I heard about why she was arrested.

She was one of those insane cultists I heard about.

Well, calling them insane cultists wasn’t fair. I knew that most people around, even in my little farming village, considered them that. My parents were always indifferent, though, and I never cared much either way. I figured they were just out doing their own thing leaving everybody else alone while they choose questionable partners for life.

After all, they were people who, at worst, were stereotyped for sleeping with beasts. Not even soul beasts, just normal beasts. Though, it was my understanding that they didn’t actually do that. They simply believed in equal love among all beings with souls. Most Chosen might prefer another Chosen, but the people who believe in the hero who loved are open to anybody and anything with a soul.

So, they were stereotyped as hanging out in the woods screwing beasts all day, when really they were probably just hanging out in normal houses screwing soul beasts all day.

Regardless, I nodded.

“I knew it!” the girl shouted, still sounding way too excited. “Then… are you… familiar with our concept of fate?”

I actually wasn’t, so I shook my head.

“Well, you see… we believe in fate based off love. When a soul falls in love with another for the first time, that person will forever be fated to them no matter how many cycles they live through. It doesn’t matter if they die and reincarnate a dozen times, they will always love the first soul they fell in love with.”

How romantic. Well, it sounds nice at least. It’s not a concept I’m opposed to believing in.

“And…” she reached up to place a hand over her chest, “when I first saw you in the tower… I knew. Seeing you here, now… I’ve never felt this way before.”

This suddenly sounds suspicious. Seriously suspicious.

“I know we’ve only just met… but the heart never lies. It throbs when I look at you and the thought of having to leave your side tears at my soul. Even thinking about thinking about it almost makes me want to cry.”

She seriously looks like she’s about to cry! Relax, woman!

“Most of us only dream about finding our fated. With how big the world is… there’s no telling if we’ll ever find them in our current lives. And even if we do, they might already be with somebody else. But I’ve found you. You’re… my fated.”

I stared straight at her and tilted my head.

I’m your what now?!

[Vol. 1 pt. 15]

“Hey, tell me,” the girl said, leaning over the table to get even closer to me. “You can feel it, can’t you?”

I was in danger. Maybe not danger of dying or anything, but I somehow felt like I was in even more danger than when I was in the dungeon. With the light hint of red on her cheeks and that obsessive look in her eyes… I had a feeling that told me there was no escape even if I ran to the edge of the world and threw myself off into the endless sky.

“They say that even if fatings are mostly one-sided, a fated can still feel when they’re with one of their past partners. You can feel it, right?”

I don’t feel anything other than your stare right now!

“Ah… I wish you could talk, but it’s okay. I’ll do my best to understand you!”

Just pick me up and help me get food when I want some, please. That’s all you have to do and I’ll be happy.

“I can’t believe that my fated is so cute… I must be the luckiest woman in the world.” She nodded in agreement with herself. “I am. I’m totally the luckiest. I’m the luckiest woman in the world with the cutest fated in the world!”

The others in the room started looking our way because of the scene she was making. The men in particular looked like they felt bad for me. Their eyes were full of pity. As for the women, they more or less rolled their eyes and ignored what was going on.

I was already kind of disturbed by how obsessive this girl seemed after being with me for all of a few minutes, but then… then I discovered just how truly depraved her mind was.

“Ehehe… our kids would be so cute,” she said, practically drooling as she stared at me.

Our what now?!

It was at that point that the men who previously pitied me now looked away, wanting absolutely nothing to do with our conversation—or rather, they wanted absolutely nothing to do with this girl’s obsession.

They left me on my own.

I had no idea who the other people in the room even were, yet I felt abandoned by all of them.

“But,” the girl continued for a moment before pausing and looking down at her chest, holding her hands up over it, “I hope that they get bigger when I’m pregnant. There’s… um… not exactly much for our babies to… you know. One of the women I was friends with in the enclave, hers grew huge when she got pregnant. They were already kind of big to start with, though. Her partner started calling her ‘Milk’ after that and she slapped him every time. It was funny. Everybody else joined in and now it’s her nickname. I think she still hates us every time we call her that, but she’s really funny when she’s mad. And I don’t think she like… actually gets upset or anything.”

The girl’s voice went from sounding almost erotic with excitement to lonely and depressed. She must have been away from her friends for some time.

“I… miss her. I miss everybody from the enclave. I’m happy that I came here and got to meet my fated, and I don’t regret it, but… all my friends are there. And all the kids I was taking care of. You know… that was also part of why I came here. I heard there were lots of homeless kids here. I thought I might be able to take some back and give them a home and friends. But… I guess our information on this city was really outdated. I had no idea somebody in the merchants’ circle opened up a huge orphanage.”

She paused and sighed.

I heard about the orphanage opening up. It was huge news the previous year and even people in our village were talking about it. Completely eliminated the issue of street kids. Last I heard, a shelter for the homeless was in the works, too.

Most of the elites in the merchants’ circle were uncaring about social issues at best, but a few of them did good. They were the reason why the city was as clean and healthy as it was. Of course, even they supported sending people into the dungeon for entertainment.

“I went by and checked it out,” the girl said. “I thought maybe… maybe it was all an act. Maybe some corrupt elite was pretending to accept children and then… I don’t know, eating them in the basement or something. Or using them for slave labor. All I saw when I looked there was a bunch of happy kids. I even snuck around to ask a few if everything was alright and they said they were happy. There were no missing children, none of them looked hurt, they all looked happy… I probably shouldn’t sound disappointed. If the kids are happy and healthy then that’s what matters.” She sighed again before resting her arms on the table and her chin on top of them. “I don’t get it. How can somebody save so many kids and give them good lives and then turn around to watch people die for their entertainment in this place? What am I supposed to think of them? Are they a good or a bad person?”

I wanted to tell her that somebody was capable of doing both good and bad. There was nuance to be had in situations like this. Somebody could be the most wonderful and helpful person in the world and then turn around to get joy from thrusting a dagger through a man’s heart.

“Good” and “bad” were stupid things to call people, in my opinion. People can do things that are either good or bad, but the person themselves cannot be one or the other. To lump anybody into one group or the other is dangerous and extreme. My dad taught me that. As soon as you start looking at any group of people as “bad,” it becomes a lot easier to view them as lesser or not even as real people.

All that accomplishes is an endless cycle of violence with each group constantly trying to push the other down.

Even when it came to the dungeon, I didn’t think it was all that bad to send criminals into it for entertainment. My main problem with it was that it became the only punishment method that wasn’t an outright death sentence.

If somebody murdered another person in cold blood, what was wrong with throwing them into the dungeon for entertainment? I’d never argue about that. I wouldn’t want to watch it, but I wouldn’t fight to change it.

But once a starving man who steals a loaf of bread for his family gets tossed into the dungeon, too, then there’s a problem.

It was ironic in a way. The city wanted to reduce crime which was why they started throwing criminals into the dungeon. There was also the traditional aspect of it, but anybody could go into the dungeon before. Now that it was primarily used for the punishment of criminals, severe crimes fell more and more until there were barely any left. Fewer severe crimes, less entertainment from the dungeon, more criminals needed, standards for severe punishment lowered. They lowered the crime enough that they needed more criminals. Sending normal adventurers into the dungeon and watching them potentially die—well, that was just considered sadistic. Their deaths couldn’t be justified as punishment. Most people had no interest in watching normal people suffer. They only wanted to watch us criminals suffer.

What I was afraid of was what was going to happen once crime was reduced to the point where they couldn’t find any more criminals to throw into the dungeon.

“Sorry, I’m probably boring you talking about that stuff,” she said.

No, please, this is way more interesting to think about and I seriously feel more comfortable talking about that instead of our “kids.”

“Happy thoughts,” she said and gave her cheeks a couple of soft slaps. “Oh! I know. Where do you want to live? Some place cold? Warm? I prefer warm. It’s cold at the enclave which means I have to wear lots of clothes to stay warm, but clothes always feel so restricting. But you’re so fluffy… maybe we should live somewhere cold after all. Wearing more layers to stay warm is less of a big deal than having to shave your whole body to stay warm.”

That… was something I didn’t even think about.

How was I going to survive the summer with how much hair I had? I didn’t really pay much attention to it before, but I already felt a little warmer than I normally would.

That led me to imagining myself with all of my hair shaved off. A tiny, naked beast without any hair.

“Cold,” I barked.