He laughed at his cactus.
“That was a nice joke, George. You’re asking me to sit down and report to you about the situation?” Enteng clicked his tongue. "Hell if I know!"
Enteng pushed himself out of their gates, and it called the attention of three other monsters waiting in front of their house. They have the same green gleaming eyes and jacked physique. Their eyes darted to Enteng, fell to George, then returned to Enteng.
These bastards questioned George’s existence.
The line appeared.
He clubbed the first one to oblivion and smashed the skull of another. Line. He dodged the swing of the third monster and kicked that monster’s balls. The monster fell to his knees with a shrill cry of a deflating balloon.
“Get em’, Boy!”
Enteng screamed and pushed George towards the monster’s face. Nothing happened. Confusion. That was the last thing that the monster felt—probably before the pain that split his head open like a sad party pinata. Game. At least he didn’t get to say anything bad to George.
Enteng’s limbs swelled with power, especially with George’s help. Who knew that George was this strong?
Enteng grinned. He could use the power of their friendship to get to his friend, but first, he needs to clear the other houses on the way—he realized that he and these monsters shared the same language.
But that only meant that they could talk shit to George, and they’re smart enough to understand them. They’re smart but cocky. Their numbers weren’t large, and they attacked them like girl scouts selling them cookies.
He could pick them off and be the hero with George by his side. George would be the Robin for his Batman. He couldn’t help but widen his dreamy smile with that in mind as he moved to start his mission.
The gate was closed. He tried giving it that good ol’ Enteng Ball-crushing Kick, but there he realized that he had been kicking balls of flesh, not metal—and that his body was as brittle as he crumbled and groaned like an old biscuit. His head whirred in pain, so he looked to George for guidance. That little cactus he placed on the ground didn’t move an inch, but Enteng nodded and regained his spirits.
“Good idea, George. I can just climb over this fence and jump on the other side no problem—like a ninja assassin.”
He’s a good boy. George looked at him in the eyes, flashing his green prickly skin, somehow mouthing that he’d guard the gates and that he’d cheer for him.
There weren’t any screams anymore. Well, there’s nothing he could do about everyone being dead. But he might as well check this house because he had already wasted the remaining bits of his life by making this jump. He also cared not to test his limits again as a graying old man to kick this house’s wooden front door like a movie star. He just saluted at George and found his way to the house’s back door.
It was open as he had expected, and the smell it brought was familiar. The family living here were about to eat some chicken-flavored instant noodles and that they’re dead.
Right. Nothing to do if they’re dead. But he could do something about the noodles. It’s just a few more steps across the living room to get to the kitchen. He clutched his weapon and moved in low and slow. He might be old, but he has a stone club and a good kicking leg for balls.
But there were no balls to be kicked anymore.
The monster that entered this house was laying flat on his probably muscled chest, dead. This was the same as this house, but he laughed. It’s not like they had it worse. His family definitely survived, and that’s why he’s helping other people.
But he was curious. He shook his head and touched the corpse’s arm. This one must be more jacked than Benok, but the body felt cold and human. It appeared to have scales and be green, but the touch felt like human skin.
“This is some mystical shit… and if you’re smart,” Enteng raised his voice. “You need to stop yourself from what you’re about to do right now.”
Then, he heard a step behind him. Shit. His eyes shot wide at the thought. That was for himself. Oh no. He calmed himself down. He didn’t know that someone was there. He breathed long. He wanted to convince himself to not touch the pot of perfectly cooked chicken instant noodles in the kitchen. But, now there’s someone behind him. He blinked a couple more times, straightened his back, and turned.
It was a little girl, probably in her early twenties. Blood stained her frail frame, her dark short hair, and the sharp machete almost sliding at her hand. Enteng widened his eyes, pouted in deep thought, and nodded slowly. This girl must not know that he’s about to steal those savory instant chicken goodness.
“How did you know?”
Shit. She’s onto him. Enteng nodded and tried his best not to glance at the kitchen—but he did.
“Know what?” He hurried his words and glanced at the kitchen.
She licked her dried lips, put her dripping weapon to her back, and looked straight into his eyes. “That I was about to cut your head off?”
“I just did.” He didn’t. “Kiddo, when you’re this old… you can sort of start to feel things around you, especially when other people are trying to hurt you.” His eyes fell towards the pot in the kitchen, to the corpse, and to her, to the kitchen, and back to her. “You uh… your parents?”
She nodded, her mouth thinning like she’s about to confess.
Enteng nodded back. He placed his hand over her shoulder, sighed, and turned away. “I’m not going to ask any more questions. But I hope you’re doing fine.”
He had no idea what’s happening.
“But can you walk?”
Enteng looked at her over his shoulder. “You can, right?”
This girl must’ve been through a lot. She’s lucky that she survived, but she must not know what he was up to earlier.
She nodded and gave him a small smile.
“Alright.” He cracked his knuckles. He’d ignore his rumbling stomach for now in exchange for something noble—to get the hell out of here before she notices that he kept glancing towards the kitchen. “I got George guarding the gate outside. I don’t have the keys so we’ll have to jump over your gate to get out of here.”
“Wait, who’s George?”
Enteng smiled. “You’ll know when you see him.”