This story is fanfic based on Clash of Clans. I do not own or possess the rights to Clash of Clans. Those remain with Super Cell. This is simply a story delving into their world. Enjoy!
Ever wondered what it would be like to be a wizard, barbarian, or even one of those pesky goblins? I have. They're grand. They train, look fierce with swords raised high, and even get to keep some of the spoils—not that they let their commander know about that sort of thing.
Me—I was plucked from the ground where I'd lain for Pitoza knows how long, an aviator's cap slapped onto my head, and a bomb thrust into my bony fingers. The weight of the damned thing about sent me six feet under again and clamped my hands against the soil from whence I'd sprung. "Hi, I'm Gary," I tried to say, knees bent as I struggled beneath the weight of the explosive.
The angelic healer standing in front of me said nothing, nor did she look at me. With a look of contrition, she stared at the gift she'd entrusted to my skinless body.
"What's your name? Where am I? Where's my shoe shop? It was here once…" I looked around and saw nothing but devastation. Remnants of the old stone road that used to course through the vast, wild valley below were all that was left of the old civilization. Now a buttressed city sat within walls the color of the sun. I stared in awe. "Where'd that come from?"
In answer, the angel in golden armor pulled a Zippo out of a hidden pocket and lit the fuse standing up between my hands. My eye sockets widened so far I became acutely aware of my past, the world I'd left behind, and the arrow that had quickly embedded itself in my eye. As the fuse sputtered to life, I thought the scar nicked into my right orb would crack wide open. My knees quaked and rattled, and it felt like someone was trying to pull my ribs apart, as though I had lungs to expand... If only. It was a fleeting thought.
"Now go!" the angelic woman shouted, pointing at the wall of a far fortress that flashed golden in the sunlight. It lay before us in a cavernous sea of grass and panicked bodies. "Run to that wall. Avoid their archers and bombs. Lives depend on it."
Clicking my teeth shut, I tried to pull my skeletal fingers out from under the hissing bomb, but it had trapped them between it and the ground, where it rested at my feet. "B-b-but…" I wasn't sure whether my teeth were just chattering or I'd somehow found enough nerve to lose it. "What about this bomb?"
The healer glared at me, her pale orbs frosty and unfriendly. Even her alabaster wings shone above her like menacing ivory talons. "Time is short. Best start running," she hissed.
A look down at the bomb in my hands supported her argument. Panic coursed through my bones. They vibrated as I hoisted the black, hissing demon, leveraged it onto my clavicle, and faced the raging battle before us, knees knocking. Cannon fire wailed and echoed over the sea of barbarians and archers below. A quick glance at the fuse sent me hurrying down the hill only to trip, fall, and tumble down the rest.
Lifting myself off the trampled grass, I tried to stand but collapsed. After a moment's surprise, I noted my toes and foot dangling upside down like awkward petals of a bony flower. The stem—my detached tibia—lay ten feet back up the hill, stuck into the ground.
A horde of goblins came rushing down after me like a tidal wave, beating down anything in their path with tiny legs and scarred feet. "Damnable skelly," the green creatures with wide mouths and long noses growled as they passed. Others groaned about not being able to get through the walls. Then a deeper, more guttural voice shouted, "Charge!" and the mass of them flew past, kicking, jostling, and stomping on every part of me.
"I-I… but… c-can't…" A knee dislocated my jaw and other feet stomped me into the ground. I stopped trying to speak, to reason with them or make excuses. It wasn't that I felt much pain, aside from cracking bones. I just couldn't form the words with my lower jaw at such an odd angle.
Above, hovering over the top of the hill, the healer in yellow, shining armor scowled down at me. The reminder of my task and why I'd been summoned encouraged me to set my jaw right and clamp my mouth closed. It was a realization: I am what they want me to be… no choice… no options… nothing left but the responsibility. The newly recognized pecking order of the world sent me scouring the ground, peering through passing legs, looking for the bomb. Her words echoed through my thoughts. "Time is short. Best start running." I spotted the black, metal orb further down the leveling slope. The fuse was nearly halfway gone but still burning.
Summoning courage from somewhere I'd never known, I swore, "By Pitoza's leg, where's mine?"
My lost appendage was nowhere to be found now. No time… no time. Struggling to one foot, I half hopped half clawed my way through a herd of archers tramping down the slope, arrows drawn and eyes set on their targets ahead. It became a collection of glimpses: feet, pants, bomb, bow and quiver, bomb. A body bustling past knocked me down. I clawed closer to the explosive. A booted foot stomped on my hand, but I pushed on. No choice… no choice. Lives depend on me.
It didn't matter that I had no idea who these people were. I didn't know either side. However, I was summoned for this, given the power over life and death. I'd experienced both, knew the certainty of death and eternity, and I could spare the lives of some now. I could save people, give them more time on this earth before being judged—something I failed to do with my own family. Flashes of memory, my own three-year-old son Deon and his mother Marion, sped before my mind's eye until I forced them away. A band of rogues had pillaged my cobbler shop, murdering them before my eyes—their lives lost while I tried to save a few soles. A sole for a soul wasn't worth it. "I can save them," I swore to myself, the distinction between the past and those still living blurring like a perimeter line made of ice cream.
Setting my sights on the journey ahead, I stared over the field. A growing number of bodies littered the field: archers, barbarians, wizards, goblins, and even a few giants with ragged, oversized tunics. Scattered skeletons like myself even made it to the wall but were picked off too early by archers. The couple that eluded the onslaught sacrificed themselves like kamikaze fighter pilots as soon as the fuses burnt out and the explosive charges detonated. Shrapnel rained down around where they'd stood, and I could swear I heard a murmur of shouts just before each explosion, but the walls still did not fall. My heart would have dropped into my stomach if I'd had either. I have to save them.
A cluster of barbarians and goblins were lined up behind one living giant who was sending them hurtling toward the city, most continuing over the walls to land inside. Each throw was tremendous, and the creatures' wails could be heard mingling with the screams of shells leaving the city and plowing into the army. Setting my teeth and jaw with a click, I lowered my head, picked up the bomb with renewed determination, and hopped toward the line. The effort was slow and arduous with chaos raging around me, but when I reached the line of the living, their eyes widened at the sight of me. They parted like the Red Sea, granting me passage and a spot further up in line until the giant stood before me.
"I'm Gary," I said.
The giant glared down but intoned, "Bob," with a pat to his chest.
"Bob, you have…" Sparing a quick glance at the dwindling fuse atop the bomb, I continued, "I'd guess a little more than a minute." He nodded, unfazed. "Throw me at the wall, not over," I added with a nod toward the barricaded city.
For a moment Bob looked dumbfounded, his jaw drooping. Then a startled look overcame him as he spotted what I held. "One minute—no problem."
He gripped me in one gargantuan hand, squeezed—splintering any and every bone in my midsection that had survived undamaged thus far—reeled back, and sent me soaring. A scream I never felt coming echoed in my voice. Wind whipped by, tearing splinters from my bones; I held tight, clutching the bomb closer to my chest. The wall sped nearer and loomed larger. Doubts entered my mind but not long enough to matter. As soon as I felt the bone-crunching impact, the world detonated and I was blown apart—the only satisfaction, the sound of rubble raining down from the wall as my skull soared up above, spiraling like a pale, malformed basketball.