Author's note: Just like Rinku Saves Christmas, I also did not write this fanfic. This is from the mind of Tails from the Carbuncle server from FFXI. We do not own FFXI. Now, go read the story!
I'll never forget the fateful day of that crab battle. Only why I entered the mangrove, that cave, is lost to me, as my regrets of doing so are with me still. I'll never forget the claws, red, rough pincers designed to squeeze my doom out from my veins. Those eyes, infinite black, were a pair of portals into my mortality, into this seemingly thoughtless creature's depraved cruelty. I'll tell you this tale of my greatest challenge, this crab battle.
Sneaking into the grotto, it was unexpectedly easy to see; the walls were aglow with blue coral, glistening and sparkling, as if I were walking in a tunnel of turquoise. The ceiling was caved in at parts, making ways for light to shine in and reflect around. Pools of water stood stagnant at the other sides, and life abounded in them. I traversed the tunnels, stepping on floor solid yet malleable; it seemed alive.
It got slightly darker as I got further down, groping the soft walls to keep my balance. Eventually, I came across a very bright area. There was no ceiling, and there was a beautifully pristine pond with a waterfall. The whole area had the same bright green and blue turquoise color, except much brighter, and speckled with gold. Indeed, it was the most wonderful sight I had laid eyes on. However, as I approached the area, a tiny crab crossed my path. "Oh no," I said gasping, "it's a crab!" The crab looked up at me with beady eyes, black-and-blue body, with red claws. Its whole being seemed to match its habitat, camouflaging it. I tried to stomp it in a panic, but with a simple adroit maneuver, it jumped out of the way. I shrieked. "The dreaded Kenyan Mangrove Crab! Those claws…" Every attempt to stomp on the crab was thwarted by jumps to the side. My senses grew more incensed. "It would appear there's no other choice," I said, "this is a crab battle."
In response to my proclamation, the crab backed off, only a little. I, however, pulled out a mallet in effort to combat my enemy. This mallet, black plastic and metal, was not originally designed for battling crabs, though I cannot as to this moment recall its original purpose. Swinging violently at the ground, I bent down to try to reach, but the crab ran after me, grabbing onto my pants. My mallet fell to the ground, and my foe slowly worked its way up my leg, clinging with the mighty red pincers it bore, as I shook violently in vain attempts to distance us. The crab worked up, determined, and started pinching my flesh to climb up me. I yelled in pain, eventually fainting from the horror of it all.
As I came to, my enemy who had toppled me was grabbing onto my cheek. Blood ran slowly down my cheek onto my hair, matting it. When I looked into this crab's eyes, I could see only malice. Shrouded by the blackness of its own evil, I could not see any part of its eyes which could see me; my thought was it had some spiritual power which allowed it to see. I reached my fingers to these pincers, trying to pry them open to little avail. It retaliated by trying to poke at my eye with its closed claws, but I grabbed them with my other hand. It let go of my cheek, apparently shocked, though it showed no sense of defeat. I threw my enemy against the wall by the claw, cracking its shell slightly. The crab staggered into the cave it was guarding previously, and jumped into the water, in what seemed to be a splashing retreat of defeat. I grinned gleefully, having overcome this villain of such brutality. Taking my mallet in hand, I reached into my pack, replacing the mallet with some medical supplies. After treating my cheek-wounds and stomach-wounds sustained from the evil crab claws, I rested.
I walked into this area that had previously been guarded, this open womb of beauty, sparkling gold, clear water, sun beaming in from a gap in the ceiling at an angle. The beauty, however, was soon interrupted. As I looked down into the water, it got somewhat murky, like a storm was brewing inside the pool. I bent down to examine further, when a massive pillar of crabs shot out from the center of the pool, flying out to every edge of the room, clinging to where they were guided. I stepped back, horrified, as they started to approach me like a plague of locusts. I ran back through the grotto as they clung to every surface, ceiling, walls, floor, approaching my speed, like a single entity bent on consummating my doom. I pulled my pack around while running, feeling around for any glimmer of deliverance when I found a grenade. Why I had such a destructive tool I did not know, but I pulled the pin out of the grenade regardless, throwing it in front of me, hoping to be out of range by the time it detonated. If this worked, then the crabs would intersect on it by the time I was out of range. I counted to myself, ran over it, and kept running without looking back until I heard an ear-shattering noise of metal grating rock, combined with explosion. Looking behind, I saw crabs fall from the ceiling and walls, forming a pile, but more were on the way. I only took out part of the creature.
When I got out of the cave, I ran until I fell into a river. The water stung my face upon entry, but it shimmered under the surface. This river was a part of the pool of water coming from the grotto, as more Kenyan mangrove crabs sped towards me. Some caught up, as I was merely floating underwater, helpless to the red and black cloud approaching. They pinched, tore, mangled; they were more ruthless than my first challenger, that miniature-sized behemoth of evil. I tried to swim to the surface. When I did, I could see, through the crabs hanging on my face, that this river was about to go into a waterfall. I closed my eyes, stilled my breath, and braced for impact.
I woke up in a MASH unit in Tanzania, stitched, healed somewhat, and groggy. Apparently, I floated ashore next to this camp, surrounded by a mass of dead crabs. They acted as a cushion upon impact at the bottom of the waterfall, taking the brunt of the impact. I've eaten crab for dinner every weekend ever since.