Entry 19: 

“Ah, crap,”  I said through a clenched jaw and collapsing organs. Someone had turned up the gravity without telling me. I was pinned down with every fiber of my being compressed by what felt like the literal weight of the world on my chest.  My eyes started to vibrate in my skull along with my ears, giving me this high-pitched ring that wouldn’t stop. “This must be what Dig-Doug felt,” I thought, thinking back to the murder I just witnessed. 

The Troll had eaten its friend, became a worse monster, and then tried to eat me. But still, the look in its eyes made me feel…wrong. What was more shocking was how quickly the troll had been dealt with. These guys worked quickly. Still, that efficiency helped me know who I was speaking to. These guys were Erasers. 

“Runner,” said the woman. “We’d like to have a conversation with you,” she said. A raspy cough is all I could give her in response. Suddenly, the invisible force was gone.  I took that opportunity to roll around, gasping while trying to form cuss words.  

“Oh..why…why does breathing sting so bad…my..my eyes are…even my ears are leaking what the fuck?”

“Runner,” she said again. This time, like a drill sergeant. 

“Ugh, I’m….I’m here,” I managed to say, forcing myself to sit up. Their faces were partially covered with thin ski masks that covered their mouths, so you could only see their eyes. Both donned all-black compression bodysuits and tactical sneakers like a cop would wear, no doubt enchanted, just like my clothes. After that, they each had their own style. The one with the glowing hands was a lean guy, just under 6’0, maybe. Dark skin, from what I could see of his exposed hands. He also wore a black tactical vest with the insignia of the Erasers, a white circle spray-painted in the center. 

The other one was shorter, maybe 5’7", with huge tree-trunk legs.  Instead of the tactical vest, she wore a crop top, a black hoodie with the same insignia spray-painted over it, and black gloves.  “Can I ...be the first to say, I did not know it would get that bad,” I said, getting to my knees. “Merit-UGH!” I dropped down, bracing myself with my hands. 

“You don’t get to say her name so casually, you pest,” The woman said, like she was talking to an actual bug.  It was a few seconds before the gravity eased up again, and I could speak. 

“I..I’m sorry,” I said slowly, catching my breath again. “pest?” 

“Yes…” said the woman, very firmly. “If it was not for our lady’s wishes, tonight would have been the end of you, crushed like the pest you are.” 

“Isn't your job to save people, right?” I asked, almost laughing. She didn’t find humor in my question. 

“Our job is to manage the balance of the ecosystem. To remove those who need to be removed. To manage the chaos.” She took a step forward. Even on my knees, I was still pretty tall; she was just above eye level. “Chaos, like the kind you bring,” she said. Her big brown eyes met mine with complete contempt. 

“I’m sorry,” I said again. After that, I explained the events of the evening. They both stood there quietly listening. When I was done. The woman spoke. 

“So, these Trolls were a regular occurrence for you?” she asked. 

“I...yeah.”

“So, the only reason you were outside was because of the Trolls. These Trolls, that if not dealt with, would have destroyed your home.”

“Yes, that's exactly it.” 

“Trolls that our lady was not informed about weeks or months prior? You're saying they returned, over a dozen times. That's a pretty serious problem to keep to yourself,” she said, her tone getting tighter and more authoritative. 

“I...well, I didn’t wanna be a bother. I mean, they weren’t hurting anyone. One game of handball and the problem was solved,” I said, realizing how dumb it sounded out loud.

“Huh. Do you communicate with Trolls often?”

“I guess whenever they show up I talk to ‘em, but not regularly.” 

“I heard you Runners can talk to monsters. Are you trying to get a new pet or something?”

“I-no. The hell?!”  I said, realizing I had a tinge of anger in my voice. 

“Your business isn’t doing too well, from what we've observed. Who knows? Taming beasts is a pretty special thing. Could probably make a lot of money from that.”

“I’m not really strapped for cash,” I said, straining.

“Oh yes, that's right. You have money from boxing, where you were world champion before giving it up for your self-destructive religion,” she said. 

“Hey! You don’t know what you're talking about!” I barked at her.  

“Oh, I don’t? Every year a few of your people show up alone, entering places they shouldn’t just to get themselves eaten for fables and hearsay. It’s understandable if one of your obnoxious caravans pulls into town, but the hope is that you leave in a week. Solo acts like you are in much more trouble.”

 “It's the key to our survival!

“Who told you that? Your tribe leaders? Sounds like broken dogma to me,” she scoffed. 

 “If you hunters really cared about bringing about balance, then you should be trying to help u-”

“- Help you? Do what? Find a dragon? The most dangerous monster in existence, and you expect us to hand one over on a leash and hope your traveling family of hobos can handle it?” 

“My people lived with ‘em in peace for centuries!” My chest was heaving. She was stone-faced. I almost stood up, but I was brought to a knee again by that unseen force. “Ugh.”  

“That is what I’m talking about. That delusion is exactly what makes your kind dangerous. Plenty of creatures in this world live with high mana constitutions and don’t cause panic. Humans, in general, have to deal with being the weakest on the totem pole when it comes to the magical food chain. You know what they do? They adapt. There are more humans than there are monsters, and the ones with the most mana learn to defend themselves. Your people, on the other hand, do nothing but ruin everything you tou-” she stopped.