XX.

When Gimel teleported inside, the first thing he noticed was the ugly giant snail shell in the middle of the living room. Who does that? It was such a foolish

decision in interior decorating.

He had his gun in one hand and his glove on the other, ready for anything. The house was silent but Gimel could hear the quiet thoughts of Aleph and Shaw. They were thinking the same thing he was: the objects in the house were strange as hell.

As he tip-toed out of the living room and into the hallway, his ears popped. Something in his skull clicked and he no longer heard the thoughts of his fellow elves.

Aleph, can you hear me? Shaw?

No response.

A slimy chill on the back of his neck tickled him. Gimel turned quickly but a wet slap sent him flying to the ground. He looked up and saw the same snail shell but now it was standing on what looked like two chicken legs. It wasn’t a snail, though. It looked more like the result of a snail mating with an elephant. Several trunk-like appendages waved at him, gaping holes hungry for fresh elf meat. Gimel held his gun up and fired.

The bullet hit the snail-thing right in the middle of its body but had no effect. Gimel sent another one at its head but again: nothing. The snail-thing stepped closer, its trunks sending out sound waves that popped Gimel’s ears even more.

Gimel stood up. “You ugly piece of shit,” he said, getting his glove arm ready to do some damage. The weapon was usually reserved for punishing unfaithful spouses of his clients. The sheer size of the bone-penis glove struck fear into the hearts of both males and females. When that thing went in, even the most jaded of infidels felt the pangs of conscience.

The snail-thing waved its trunks, spraying Gimel with purple spittle. Some of the fluid hit the elf in the face, burning him. He put his fist up and charged.

The bone-penis smashed into the snail shell, creating a splatter of green and white shards.

Gimel’s fist went right through the beast. Trunks flailed against the elf, wrapping around his neck.

“No you don’t, fucker,” Gimel said. He pulled his fist out and started punching at the trunks. They were no match for it.

Two more minutes of fisting and the elf was victorious in turning the snail-thing into a mushy pile of shell and flesh. Gimel’s deafness gradually disappeared as the beast before him died.