Unbeknownst to the residents of Little Rockwell, there was a whole other world right beneath their feet. At least ten stories below them lay U’dreg Rookweh, or in English: Underground Rockwell, a Blood town. It was a mesh of caves and large tunnels left over from Little Rockwell’s old mining days. The Blood had further developed it with help from the Order of the Mimic’s Creed, a secret order dedicated to the protection of the Blood of the Earth.

Structures of stone and clay spanned further than the eye could see. Some rose as high as the ceiling, acting as pillars of support. Although the walls were quite smooth, finding a straight edge would be a difficult feat as lumps and bumps protruded everywhere. Windows made from tree roots were twisted into complex patterns and appeared to be randomly dotted along the structures. Vines crept up some of the walls, with flowers in a wide range of colours. It was a sight to behold, especially for first-time visitors.

Nova Flies fluttered around the ceiling. They shone brighter than their firefly cousins and were native to the underground world. The Nova Flies were attracted to the Aerious Moss growing on the cave ceiling. They shared a symbiotic relationship; the flies ate the moss, and the moss grew from the waste left behind. To prevent overgrowth, the moss bed was tended to weekly. This system was an attempt to mimic the sun’s glow. Though the Blood could have used electric lights or gaslight lamps, this system suited them just fine, as was deemed appropriate by their culture. During nighttime, the flies would be gathered, leaving some to resemble blinking stars in the sky. The rest flew to their nesting place atop decorative lanterns on the ground, illuminating the streets. Stray flies would wander the night, enchanting passersby.

Aerious Moss played another vital role for this underground community: generating oxygen for their aerobic visitors and inhabitants. The Blood did not require oxygen to survive, but the flora and fauna that they adored did. Their love for nature pressed them to develop this framework, because — Phoenia forbid — the townsfolk must never go above ground, or so they’ve been told since the town was formed. The Blood’s chrome complex, bestial form, and their insurmountable strength would incite too much fear in the world above.

‘Twas the night before Tim limped to work. It was quiet in U’dreg Rookweh — too quiet. Only a couple of screeching bats could be heard in the distance. There weren’t many Nova Flies blinking in the ‘sky’ — perhaps too many had been collected that night. Tim had just finished his rounds around town with his temporary Blood partner, a dark gray Wolf-Blood.

F’nrir was his name. He came from out of town and had been temping as a Gardios (Guardian), a Blood partner, for the past two weeks, waiting for his new post to start. Tim had only known him for three night shifts.

The Blood towered almost two Human heads over Tim, who wasn’t exactly short himself. His muscular build would have made any bodybuilder jealous — it made Tim jealous — and his giant wolf-clawed hands could send the bravest man trembling in fear. He probably could have snapped a small tree in half if he desired with his strong jaws and razor-sharp fangs. Only his yellow-orange eyes, nose, and lower jaw were visible under the dark gray pelt covering his neck, shoulders, and upper back like a cowl. A thicker pelt, brown, was fastened around his waist and fell just above the knees, held in place by a wooden belt with stone elements. The necklace he wore had stones shaped like wolf teeth.

How cliché. Tim had thought when he first met him. But he looks so shweet! It meant cool in Tim’s dictionary.

“Today was my last day!” he exclaimed to Tim. “I start my new job tomorrow!” At that moment, he seemed more like a pup than a gigantic killer wolf.

“Dude, congrats!” said Tim. “Haven’t known you long, but it’s been nice working with you.” He gave him a fist bump, slightly regretting it as his right hand throbbed after contact. “Where will you be working?”

“A place that all B’lode (Blood) fear,” he responded with a huge grin, displaying most of his intimidating, sharp teeth.

Sometimes he just seemed so darn creepy.

“That … doesn’t sound … ominous …” said Tim, attempting to put up a brave front as F’nrir continued flashing his toothy grin.

After they parted ways, Tim started heading home. His actual partner, Terry, short for Terranis, was taking care of family business in his obscure home village, Qu Ary (Qaurry). Terranis had been a Gardios for as long as Tim had been a Keeper. Jason, Tim’s best friend, and his Gardios, Raese, were off on a mission to check on the town medic, Mr. Stewie Hayward. Apparently, he hadn’t been responding to the Creed’s call to return. But he had a good reason for not wanting to answer; he had just lost his wife to old age.

Tim sighed, sulking, as he made his way home alone, wishing Terry hadn’t taken the ATV with him.

A few streets away, two Blood with a dark red-brown hue were cowering in an alleyway. Both were smaller than the average person and seemed like respectable civilians. The smaller of the two looked like a monstrous red squirrel. He had large, round, yellow eyes with light patches surrounding them. Over his left eye was a wooden monocle with a glass lens. His long bushy tail was raised. A thick brown fur collar kept his neck warm. 

The taller Blood looked like a quivering, well-dressed chipmunk. She wore a thick velvet-purple fur collar, fastened with ornate wooden buttons. Wrapped around her wrists were intricate wooden bracelets, a sprawling jade tree carved into the wood. She was slender with a sharp, pointed muzzle and small but prominent ears. Her bushy tail was tucked beneath her.

The Squirrel-Blood held an arm out protectively in front of her. “Stay behind me, Chippy,” he whispered.

It was an abysmal attempt to protect his companion from the two larger, bulkier Blood looming over them. Although they were quite buff, their faces appeared young — immature even. Chippy had offered to give them her favorite accessories, but they scoffed at the notion, saying those things were “utterly-z worthlezz” to them.

The smaller of the two thugs had four muscular arms and resembled a wasp. He had a light chrome complex and golden, bulging eyes. Metallic spikes protruded from his wrists. He also sported a fur collar around his neck, but it was black and less pronounced than the others’. Tattoo carvings — indented patterns — lined his arms. The one on his back formed a flying hornet. His silver wings were tucked away. Chippy had heard the other ruag, a rogue Blood, call him ‘Wassp’, who snapped back saying it was ‘Wazp-z’.

Wazp easily lifted the trembling Squirrel-Blood by the collar. He squirmed as his feet left the ground.

“Kip!” shrieked Chippy. Her enormous, glossy pink eyes grew larger.

“What-z do-z you-z mean-z you-z got-z no-z welcome-z gift-z for-z the-z Bozz?! Huuh-z?!” questioned Wazp, shaking him while talking so rapidly that his words almost slurred together.

“S-sorry … I c-couldn’t quite catch that …” said Kip with a shaky voice.

The other thug, a Snake-Blood, looked very irritated at his partner’s misspronunciation. “It'ss ‘the Bossss’,” he contended with a raspy voice.

The snake had lacklustre, yellow slit-like eyes. His back was dark chrome while his front transitioned into a dull yellowish hue, just like a garden snake. Fancy wooden accessories carved into snake-like patterns slithered around his forearms and neck. He had what looked like shed snake skin fastened around his waist, barely scraping the ground. Valuable stones were semi-embedded into his skin, mostly in his knuckles. Rather than having legs, he had a long thick tail.

The ruags had fought over the Snake-Blood’s name. Wazp had mocked him, saying he couldn’t pronounce his own name right, which was Hyzzzz. The snake had hissed back that his name was, in fact, Hyssssssss. Chippy was certain that both had an accent, but was inclined to go with the snake’s version. After all, it was his name. She deduced that he was actually called Hyssss, since he pronounced ‘s’ two times longer than usual. Chippy couldn’t understand why the two ruags would be using their names so freely in the middle of a robbery — in fact, they hadn’t even bothered to disguise themselves.

“The-z bozz!” argued Wazp, tossing Kip in agitation as he turned to face the giant snake. Kip yelped as he crashed to the ground beside Chippy, crushing his precious monocle to pieces. The two looked at each other and nodded, Kip still slightly dizzy from all that shaking.

“The bossss!!”

The two civilians began to liquefy into silvery globs, slowly sneaking away as the thugs continued their debate.

CRUNCH!

The ruags immediately reverted their attention back to their victims. Kip glanced down; he had accidentally stepped on his broken monocle.

“Who cares about your oospad (stupid) monocle — just run for it!” exclaimed Chippy, but it was too late. Wazp had already rushed to Kip and was forcefully lifting him by the collar again, halting the transformation of the partially liquefied Blood. Any human would have been absolutely horrified by Kip’s oozing features.

“Where-z do-z you-z think-z you’re-z going-z?” growled Wazp, shaking him vigorously again. “We-z haven’t-z finizhed-z our-z little-z chat-z yet-z!”

In the meantime, Hyssss caught the half-transformed Chippy, who shrieked in surprise.

“P-please!” Kip pleaded. “We promise to have s-something for his uh … l-lordship next time.” His mushy hands were desperately grasping Wazp’s arm, the one that was holding him up.

“L-lordzhip-z,” imitated Wazp. He laughed mockingly while punching his prey in the gut. The reaction was quick; the civilian Blood’s metallic flesh hardened instantly in response. A metallic thud resonated through Kip’s body. As the impact faded, so did the initial shock, but the ruag kept his momentum, claws driving ever deeper, slowly sinking into Kip's flesh, a faint hiss being heard from the punctures.

“Let-z that-z be-z a-z reminder-z to-z thoze who-z don’t-z zhow rezpect-z to-z Lord-z Znareel-z.”

“It'ss ‘Lord Ssnareel’!” snapped Hyssss.

“Lord-z Znareel-z!” Wazp barked, pounding Kip again out of agitation.

“Stop it!” Chippy cried out in desperation. “Leave him alone!” She tried to approach the giant wasp but was held back by her captor.

“Ssss—careful now,” he said sardonically, holding her sleazily by the face. “My assssossiate can get a little rough. We wouldn’t want to get harmed now, would we?” a smirk spreading across his face.

“H-hey! Uuugh … l-let h-her g-go! D-don’t t-touch h-her!” Kip begged, flailing in the air.

“You-z zhould-z be-z more-z worried-z about-z yourzelf-z!” Wazp cackled as he shook him again.

“Uuuuugh … I-I f-feel s-sick …”

Chippy bit down hard on Hyssss’ hand, who hissed in pain and hurled her aside. He slowly slithered towards her, scowling as he rubbed his wound. She stared at his threatening advance, petrified. Chippy braced herself, squeaking in fear as he reared for an attack.

Out of nowhere, a voice boomed at them, “Is this a private shake down, or can anybody join?”