Chương 37: Zone One Boss Battle

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The Lake Mothers stepped off the dock onto shore, their burning forms trailing smoke and steam. They paused at the end of the dock and threw their arms wide, hooks raised high, masks tilted toward the sky, and released a monstrous, triumphant howl, almost like they were posing before a boss fight. Then literal health meters appeared over their heads. 100% HEALTH Two long red rectangles materialized above their heads, floating in the air, impossibly out of place against the fire and screaming and blood.

Sweat formed on my upper lip, and my legs wobbled. HEALTH BARS?! Tre's voice exploded in my head. Nothing we'd encountered so far had a health bar over its head. I wasn't exactly sure what that meant. But judging by the panic in Tre's mental voice, it wasn't anything good. It's a boss fight, Nora!

"What's—" That was all I got out before the moment fractured and time slowed to a stop. Sulfur and burnt matches infiltrated the air, overwhelming my senses. No. Not now. Not NOW— The air split open between the frozen Lake Mothers and me. A tear in reality, like fabric ripping, sulfurous vapor pouring out. Plaxx stepped through. His powder-blue suit was immaculate. Not a speck of ash, not a drop of blood, not a single wrinkle despite the carnage frozen around him.

His too-wide smile stretched across his face as he surveyed the scene, tail swishing behind him. He walked into my field of vision, circling me slowly. I couldn't turn to follow him. All I could do was track him until he passed out of view behind me.

"Ladies and gentlemen, demons and damned!" Plaxx's carnival barker voice.

"What a finale to the first Zone!" The red imp completed his circle, stopping directly in front of me. Close enough to see the hairline cracks in his yellowed teeth.

"Our little Summer completed her ritual with STYLE. All those poor sacrificial lambs served fresh to the lake's insatiable appetite! And now, thanks to her sterling performance, our Final Girl faces the awakened Lake Mothers in all their—" He paused, turning to look at the burning monsters. Cocked his head.

"— flambéed glory!" Fuck you. Fuck YOU. Let me move— A museum curator examining the art, Plaxx strolled toward the Lake Mothers, hands clasped behind his back. Letters appeared in the air above the frozen monstrosities, each one slashed into existence with a sound like tearing silk, until the words THE LAKE MOTHERS hung fully formed. Then the words flickered, degrading into nothing like a title card from a damaged film reel.

"These lovely ladies are Meredith Ganz and Catherine Blackwood," Plaxx said, indicating the horrific creatures.

"Devoted mothers who lost their daughters in a tragic boating accident right here at Camp Stillwater, circa 1987." He reached up and tapped one long finger against the bald Mother's frozen health bar. The contact made a tink sound, like tapping glass.

"After drowning the counselors, they deemed responsible, they took their own lives in these very waters." His voice took on a theatrical gravity.

"Death, as it turns out, has not diminished their protective instincts. If anything, it's made them rather... indiscriminate about who qualifies as a threat to their babies." Plaxx turned back to me, putting his face inches from mine.

"Now, I'll be honest…" That smile never wavered.

"Our final girl's chances look rather grim." He began counting on his clawed fingers.

"She's hurt. Low on resources. Her companions are scattered. And she's facing two supernatural entities who've been marinating in lake-bottom rage for four decades." My eyes burned, unable to blink, forced to stare into his face.

"The house is currently running 47-to-1 odds against survival." This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Fuck you. Fuck you and your odds —"BUT…" He raised one finger.

"Should our plucky heroes somehow manage to banish these maternal nightmares AND save the fleeing teenagers—" He leaned in closer, voice dropping to something almost gentle. Almost kind. Which somehow made it worse.

"—they'll earn themselves eight glorious hours in a Safe Area before advancing to Zone Two." Eight hours of rest. The words felt like they came from another universe, another life where things like sleep and safety existed.

"Of course…" Plaxx straightened, smile widening impossibly further.

"They have to SURVIVE this first." He circled behind me again, and I lost sight of him. The Lake Mothers were suspended mid-scream, health bars floating above their heads like promises of violence to come. Plaxx's voice came from behind my left shoulder, hot against my ear.

"So the real question becomes..." He drew it out, savoring every word.

"Will our Final Girl find a way to put these drenched nightmares back to sleep? Will she save Camp Stillwater from becoming a massacre?" Pause. Just long enough for the dread to build.

"Or will she become just another name on the memorial plaque?" He appeared in front of me again, so fast I didn't see him move. His eyes crinkled with a dark sort of amusement, and his black teeth glistened in the firelight.

"Place your bets, folks." For just a second, the showman mask slipped to reveal a cold, endlessly patient hunger. Something that had watched millions of people break and would gladly watch a million more.

"This is about to get beautifully messy." Plaxx snapped his fingers, disappeared, and the world EXPLODED into motion. Air rushed into my lungs in a gasping sob. The Lake Mothers completed their howls, as their health bars glowed ominously above their heads. Fire crackled. People cried out in fear. My body could move again, and I stumbled, nearly falling, catching myself on shaky legs. Nora?! Tre's worried voice in my head. What do we do?!

"Fight," I yelled. My whole body trembled with released adrenaline, with the violation of being trapped in my own frozen flesh.

"Get ready. They're coming." I was about to face two boss-level supernatural horrors with a taste for teenage blood, and all I could think was that I wished we had better weapons. Somewhere near the cabins, Liam was still directing the evacuation.

"This way! Keep moving!" Then the Lake Mothers moved in opposite directions. And everything happened all at once. The Bald Mother lurched left toward the shoreline, where a group of drunk kids stumbled backward from the approaching horror. Their coordination was shot, and their reactions were too slow. She closed the distance in three massive strides. A boy in a black shirt was directly in her path. He shrieked— Until a wet crunch cut it off. I looked. Couldn't help it. The Bald Mother's mouth was impossibly wide.

Her teeth were sunk into his neck and shoulder, crunching through flesh and bone. The boy went limp in her grip. The Naked Mother turned straight toward me. My shield materialized on my right arm. I gripped the spear in both hands.

"Tre, get ready—" Isabel sprinted toward the Bald Mother in my peripheral vision, Bowie knife raised. But there was no time to watch what happened. The Naked Mother charged me. A fetid stench of rotted meat and wet dog hit me as she raised her hook to strike. I lunged forward with the spear, aiming for her heart. But I missed by inches. The improvised blade glanced across her collarbone instead, tearing through the exposed flesh.

Air bubbled from the Lake Mother's wound as she swung the hook in a whistling, downward arc toward my head. I threw my shield up. Too slow. The Naked Mother's rusted barb slammed into the shield's rim. The hook's sharp tip clipped over the shield's top edge and sank into my left shoulder, tearing a ragged groove across my upper arm before the shield stopped the momentum. Metal shrieked, the impact dropping me to one knee as a spiderweb of cracks split across the shield's surface. I could barely hold it up anymore.

A blur of movement to my left. Isabel drove the knife into the Bald Mother's back. Black ichor erupted from the puncture. The creature shrieked, releasing the corpse she was holding.

"ISABEL, RUN!" Liam screamed from somewhere near the cabins. Isabel ran.

"I AM!" The Bald Mother lumbered after her. There was nothing I could do to help. Hell, I could barely stand. The Naked Mother was readying for another swing of her hook. I pushed myself away from her until my back hit the bonfire's stone ring. Out of room. NORA! Tre's voice in my head, but I couldn't see him. Something launched out of the grass onto the Naked Mother's leg. Tre's little fingers found purchase in the folds of rotted flesh.

He ascended steadily, hand over hand, paring knife clenched between his teeth. My tiny pirate. The Naked Mother was too focused on me to notice him. She swung at me. I rolled out of the way, just as the fishhook embedded itself in the bonfire's stone ring where I'd been sitting a heartbeat before. Sparks exploded as metal scraped across stone with a shriek that made my teeth ache. Tre climbed faster. He made it to her hip. Her waist.

Each handhold was a patch of decaying skin that threatened to tear away under his weight. Black ichor leaked from where his fingers dug in, coating his arms. The smell had to be overwhelming that close up. But it didn't slow him down. When he reached her shoulder blade, he transferred the knife from his teeth to his hand.

"HEY, BITCH!" He drove the paring knife into the side of her neck. Then stabbed her again. And again. And again. Black goo sprayed across his face, but he kept stabbing with the reckless fury of someone who knew this was his last chance. The Mother's shriek was the same deafening tire-hiss sound, but magnified. She staggered, the hook flying toward me. I rolled left, away from the bonfire. Crab walked back from the creature. The Lake Mother's bloated sausage fingers groped behind her for Tre. He stabbed her hand.

The knife punched through the webbing between two fingers. She howled.

"Ha!" Tre raised the knife in victory. Mother's other hand found him. Her fist wrapped around his body, pinning his arms to his sides.

"Tre!" The Mother's grip constricted, and there was a loud crunch. Plastic or bone, I couldn't tell. Nora… His voice in my head, strained with pain. The Mother raised him high over her head. Then she threw Tre into the bonfire.