(The following is a nonprofit work of fanfiction and is outside of the original canon. All names, characters, businesses, places, events, and/or incidents of any kind depicted within this story are being used for entertainment purposes only.)
(The Loud House and all related characters were created by Chris Savino and all rights belong to Nickelodeon.)
- Chapter Twenty-Eight -
The Thing About Bullies
I sucked in my bottom lip as my heart fearfully pounded against my chest. Despite this, I closely held my sword in one hand while keeping the front of my shield out defensively in another, refusing to let my fear show for the sake of my gang. The seven of us stood together, varying weapons and magic at the ready as the Lich before us hovered several inches above the ground, the hems of its withered black robes fluttering around, eyeless sockets glowing a hellish red.
The evil aura it was radiating was profound, nearly sending a shiver down my spine. I gently nudged away at a piece of bone that was close to my right foot, the undead remains of the defeated skeletal warriors spread about the sacrificial chamber. The gang and I practically shuttered when we heard the low cackle echo out from the Lich's nonexistent throat, its fingers coiling at its sides like they were fleshless snakes.
Each of us held our own unique weapons in our hands at the ready for anything our enemy might throw at us, myself—the Human Fighter with my sword and shield, Stella—the Elven Cleric, with her one-handed mace and buckler shield, Clyde—the Human Wizard, with his magic staff, Liam—the Human Ranger, with his bow and arrows, Conner—the Halfling Thief, with his twin long daggers, Rusty—the Dwarven Avenger, with his broadsword, and Zach—the Half-Elven Mystic with his bo-staff.
I side-eyed our party and noticed that none of us were left untouched, our arms and legs covered in cuts and scrapes left behind by our enemies. All seven of us were pretty worn out and we barely had any energy or stamina left. But these little inconveniences were absolutely nothing when compared to the determination and strong will that took hold of us—Rusty probably the most considering that he was a hot-blooded dwarf.
"Foolish mortals!" the Lich hissed, sounding a lot like the Emperor from Return of the Jedi. "Your skills in steel and sorcery are of no match when compared to the terrible power I possess! Power so far beyond the capacity of your own primitive comprehension! Now, prepare to join my legion of the undead! PREPARE TO DIE!"
With that, the Lich let loose one flurry of green fireballs after another from his hands, cackling like a maniac as he did so. At the very last second, Clyde plunged the butt end of his magic staff into the ground. In that instant, we were all incased within one large mystical dome-like forcefield that glowed a bright yet translucent blue light. The zombie necromancer growled in utter frustration as it continued to unleash wave after wave after wave of green fireballs at us.
At each impacted blow, we flinched under the impression that the next attack would be the most powerful. As this was going on, Stella used her magic to heal our party, her enchanted mace glowing with divine radiance. In no time, we were all full of energy and our wounds were healed once again as if nothing happened. I glanced over to regard Clyde and noticed that he was increasingly losing steam, struggling to keep a tight hold of his magic staff.
I knew right away what this meant. It would not be very long now until our wizard's protection spell would wain out and become completely exhausted from the amount of magic he was generating. I focused over to our undead opponent who still hovered off from the ground before us and it was then that I had noticed something which immediately caught my eye; a tiny glint shined off from the Lich's black-clad chest.
I squinted my eyes to try and get a much better look through our translucent forcefield. Turned out, the glint I had seen came from a seemingly worn-out golden medallion which hung lowly from the Lich's bony neck. In the center of that very medallion, I saw a large gem and it glowed an ominously mystical green whenever our enemy conjured up another dark magic-based attack. Realization clicked and then a plan started to hatch within my brain.
"The undead will rule over the living!" the Lich cried out before sending another green fireball. "And there is no mortal on this earth that can stop me! Not even the likes of YOU!"
"We can't stay like this forever!" Stella exclaimed, holding her mace closely in her left hand, saying exactly what we were all thinking. "We need a plan, like, pronto!"
"I...! C-Can't...! Hold on...! M-Much...! L-Longer!" Clyde struggled to say between his tightly clenched teeth, his hands trembling to keep his magic staff firmly in place, the blue crystal on the top beginning to lose its light.
"Uh, Lincoln?" Conner addressed me, his voice filled with urgency and desperation. "If you've got an idea hidden up your sleeve, I think right now would be a REALLY GOOD TIME AS ANY TO BRING IT OUT!"
"Don't worry! I know exactly what to do!" I said back confidently. "You guys see that medallion hanging from his neck? It's the source of his power! If we manage to destroy that thing—"
"—Then the Lich is done for!" Zach picked up the rest of the sentence; an expression filled with hope forming on his face.
"And he'll be sent straight back to the underworld!" Rusty added, his broadsword held at the ready. "So, what's the plan, boss?"
"Alright! First, once Clyde deactivates the magic forcefield, we'll run for cover!" I instructed. "You five keep the Lich distracted long enough for Liam to get closer!" Our aforementioned human ranger eyed me confusingly.
"Wait, what do ya need me for?" he asked.
"When the time is right, as he's charging his next attack, you'll fire an arrow straight into his medallion!" I told him. "I know that you can do it, man! After all, you're the best ranger we have in our party, and you rarely ever miss! All you'll be needing is just one arrow, so make it count!" Liam gulped down a growing lump in his throat as he looked at me with a pair of hesitant eyes before taking a sharp breath, steeling himself, and then nodding.
"Alright...! I'll do it!" he said. With that, we got into our stances, ready for when the time would be right.
"Alright," I said. "By my signal, we find cover! And… NOW!" In that split moment, Clyde's magic forcefield vanished, the radiating glow from the blue crystal located on the head of his magic staff going out like that of a lighted torch. He almost fell down to his knees until Conner grabbed him on the spot and then hauled him over to a wide neighboring column on the right side of the sacrificial chamber, along with Stella, Rusty, and Zach.
"Whatever it is that you pathetic mortals are planning, do not waste your time!" the Lich taunted at us, his hissing voice echoing throughout the chamber. "All you will be doing is prolonging your inevitable demise! Surrender now, and I will make sure that your deaths are quick and painless!"
"No thanks, bonehead!" Conner shouted, his head sticking out momentarily from the side of the wide pillar. "I've heard rich and greedy merchants give better deals than that!" Liam and I observed as the now increasingly enraged Lich conjured and threw another green fireball towards Conner's way, only to miss as the aforementioned halfling thief safely yet narrowly dodged out of the way and back behind the pillar.
Siezing this opportune moment, Liam and I cautiously snuck over to another column located very closely over to the right side of the sacrificial chamber, moving a lot closer to the Lich who was now beyond angry at this point.
"Come on! Was that supposed to be an attack?!" Rusty shouted to the side.
The Lich's response came in the form of another attack, but it missed again same as before.
"Honestly, you couldn't hit the big fat backside of an orc if you tried!" Zach added. I felt a shiver run down my spine when the Lich let out a terrible infuriated growl, its eyeless sockets glowing brighter with boiling hot rage, enchanted green flames licking all over his bony hands. A low smirk formed on my face.
That's it, guys! Keep it up! I thought.
"You wouldn't hit a wizard with glasses!" Clyde asked, sticking his head out. But as before, the Lich had narrowly missed its intended target. Clyde stuck his head out again with a mocking grin.
"Scratch that! You couldn't hit a wizard with glasses!" he taunted. This sent the Lich into an indescribable rage.
"YOU INSUFFERABLE LITTLE...!" it bellowed, getting ready for another attack. "WHEN THIS IS OVER, I WILL SWALLOW YOUR STINKING LITTLE SOULS!"
Now to deliver the final blow.
"Liam! Go now! While he's charging!" I ordered. Our human ranger nodded as he stepped outside from our cover, one arrow pulled back against his bow, straining bow string as far back as he could to give it the correct level of speed that he needed. Unexpectedly, Liam charged forward and then leapt up into the air in front of the Lich while keeping his ranged weapon trained on the undead necromancer.
"Swallow THIS!" he shouted, grabbing the Lich's confused attention. Everything seemed to have suddenly gone into slow motion because I watched as Liam's finger's let go of the thick string of his bow, and his arrow flew on straight ahead towards the Lich's medallion. Judging by the look on its surprised face, the Lich must have realized that there was no time to react before the arrow plunged into the medallion, shattering the green gem in the center.
In that instant, an explosion of green light filled the room but then quickly died down. The seven of us watched from our cover as the Lich let out a terrible wail that rang out through the sacrificial chamber—if not through the halls and corridors of the abandoned keep up above us, and it's entire skeletal body and black robed consumed by more green flames. Liam speedily got up from the floor and then ran over to the others behind their column.
"NOOOOO!" the undead sorcerer thundered as a beam of green light shot out from its mouth.
The gang and I looked away, not wanting to see the rest and then a powerful shockwave blew around the floor outwardly, sending a huge wave of dust towards our way. When the dust finally settled, we slowly and steadily left our hiding spots to survey what had happened. And sure enough, to our sheer joy, the Lich was no more, its skeletal remains and tattered black robes lying about on the stone floor, its destroyed golden medallion resting closely at its hands.
Rusty then fell to his hands and knees, letting out a deep breath he probably had no idea he was holding.
"It's over!" he exclaimed in relief. "Thank goodness it's over!"
"Whew!" Zach vocalized wiping off beads of sweat from his forehead. "And here I thought the Demogorgon was bad enough!"
"That was a pretty choice move you did there, Liam!" Stella said with a proud smile on her face. "You saved our lives!"
"Way to go, dude!" Conner agreed as we all surrounded our human ranger, patting him on the back and nudging him congratulating like. Liam bowed his head with his hands up in front as well as a bashful smile on his face.
"Eh, it weren't nothin'," Liam said, cheeks blushing a dark shade of red. "I wouldn't have done what I did without Lincoln's help."
"Ah, but you're the one who struck the final blow," I said. "So, for today, you get to be the hero, Liam. And don't you think for a moment that we're going to take 'no' for an answer. You got that? Today is your time to shine." The six of us let out several cheers in his name as he continued to smile bashfully.
But then, we all fell silent when we heard a growing ethereal chuckle echo all over the chamber, cutting our little celebration rather short. The chuckle was very deep, guttural, almost demonic. And it sent a chill down my spine when I knew right away who it was. We held our guard back up when we watched in horror and surprise as the seemingly defeated remains of the Lich slowly rose back up, the chuckle turning into that of a manic laugh.
I felt heart drop down to the pit of my stomach when I saw a familiar glove bearing five sharp blades for fingers. The Lich lifted its head up to gaze upon us, except what we saw was not the skull head of our undead opponent. But was instead replaced with the burned and twisted visage of...
"No..." I uttered in pure terror. "NO!"
"Hehehe! I guess you should have rolled more than a thirteen, Linky!" Freddy Krueger taunted, his gruesome smile revealing his disgusting teeth, eyes blazing fiercely like hellfire. I froze on the spot, unable to move and help my friends who screamed and cried for my help as they became enveloped by tentacles of living shadows and they were pulled down through the floor, living me all alone with my worst nightmare and imaginary tormentor.
With evil intentions, Freddy lifted his gloved hand up over his hooded head and swung it down at me as I let out a throat-tearing scream into the consuming darkness...
"FREDDY NO!" I remember shouting out loud as I shot up completely wide awake. I panted like I had just run a marathon, cold sweat forming around my face. Just as I was about to realized that it was yet another nightmare and then curse Freddy's name for the one hundredth time for more than a third of the entire summer so far, I nearly jumped out of my own skin when I heard a sudden and loud knock from my bedroom door.
"Lincoln?" I heard my dad's voice call out from the other side in concern. I sighed sharply and clutched onto my chest before finally answering with, "Come in!" The doorknob easily twisted, and my father walked straight inside. I then glanced down toward the three familiar D&D box sets he was carrying in both his hands.
"I came up here to give these back to you," he explained. "You left them downstairs on the dining room table."
"Oh... T-Thanks, Dad." I muttered, wiping some sweat off from my brow.
"Are you okay, honey?" he asked a little worriedly after setting my D&D stack on the end of my bed. "You don't look so good." I nodded with a bit of a small shaky laugh.
"Y-Yeah, I'm okay. It was just a little bad dream." I said trying to casually brush it off like it was not that big of a deal. Dad placed his hands on his hips with a frown, looking not the least convinced by my words.
"Judging from the way you screamed out just now," he observed, "sounds a whole plenty more than just a 'little bad dream'." My father and mother could be quite the perceptive people back in those days, especially when it boiled down to the safety of their own children.
"If you don't mind me asking," he then started to say next. "Who's Freddy?" I tensed up a little as I felt my heart pound in my chest again. Right away, the first thing that I told him was...,
"Oh, u-uh, just some kid who goes to my school," I fibbed as I rubbed the back of my head. "He's... well..., he's kind of a major bully who likes to pick on me a lot."
"And you've been having these bad dreams about him this whole summer?" Dad perceived while taking a seat on the edge of my bed next to me. I simply nodded my white-haired head casually and let out a low whistle. He had absolutely no idea just how right on the mark he actually was.
"Wow," my father uttered aloud as he started to gently pat me on the head. "Sounds like this Freddy kid must be pretty terrible enough to have nightmares about."
It's funny you should mention those two things... I thought.
"Dad, I promise, my dream is not as bad as it sounds," I lied, in the hopes of trying not to get him to worry more. He, my mom, and my sisters were already concerned about my wellbeing, I didn't want to make it any worse. "In truth, they're just of him pulling these really stupid pranks on me."
If you can even call me being constantly menaced by that ding dang four-bladed glove a prank! I quipped in my head.
"Pranks, huh? That sure sounds an awful lot like Chandler," Dad commented. "You know, son. If this Freddy kid is really bothering you this badly, why didn't you tell us?" I simply shrugged my shoulders. It was almost starting to feel like I was admitting to watching A Nightmare on Elm Street rather than talking to my dad about my bully problems at school.
"I-I don't know," I stammered for a bit. "I guess I just didn't want to you guys to worry so much about it."
At this, my father let out a good-natured chuckle.
"Lincoln, I'm your father," he declared. "It's pretty much my job to be worried about the lives of my own kids." I smiled mildly at him.
"Nice of you to say that, Dad," I muttered before sighing and resting my head against his side. "But..., I just don't know." There was half a minute of silence before Dad spoke up again.
"Well..., have you tried asking a teacher or your principle?" he asked.
"What good will that even do?" I rebuffed defeatedly. "It wouldn't be the first time they've said they'll look into it and actually do nothing." There was another pause until he opened his mouth again.
"Okay, but have you tried standing up to him?" he asked me. Instantly, I yanked away and stared at my old man, eyes wide as they could possibly be.
"Please tell me you're joking, Dad!" I nearly exclaimed. "He'll eat me alive… or do something even worse."
"Oh, come on, kiddo," my father reasoned. "He can't be any more terrible than those three other kids that bother you at school, can he?" My brows knit together in confusion when he mentioned "three other kids" until it speedily dawned on me that he was referring to Anderson, Taylor, and Pablo.
"Let me tell you something, sport," Dad began before I could even say a word. "You understand that one of these days, you're not going to keep letting them pick on you, right? And believe me, I went through the same problem as you did when I was your age."
"Oh yeah?" I muttered curiously. "How so?" At this, my old man started to get comfortable and he placed an arm around my shoulder. By this gesture, I knew that he was getting ready to tell me a story.
"Son, let me tell you a little something about a kid named Jake Strong," he began after clearing this throat. "Now, this was some time ago way back in the 1950's when your uncle and I were just two young brothers who attended Royal Woods Middle School and were just a few short years away from hitting puberty. Around that time, Jake Strong was the most popular kid in the school, almost every girl wanted to date him and the other boys wanted to be him. He looked like he was the living definition of the word 'cool'. At first glance, he really seemed that way."
Dad paused for a moment for continuing.
"But I knew him for what he actually was," he went on, an unhappy frown plastered on his face. "He was nothing but a total jerk who took advantage of and pushed around anybody he thought didn't deserve to breathe in the same space as him. And I was one of his favorite targets. Jake did almost everything a middle school bully would do; shove me inside my locker, sticking his wet finger in my ear, the constant wedgies—ugh, you name it."
"Did he really?" I said to my father in astoundment.
"Oh, yes he did," he confirmed with a nod. "So then one day, after I came home, Lance and I told our dad what's been going on. And that was when Dad set me aside and gave me a good talk."
"What did he say?" I asked.
"He said, 'Lynn, I know you're not going to like what I'm about to tell you'," he continued, "But it's very important that you listen anyway. One of these days, you will have to be brave and stand your ground against this kid. You can't let yourself be afraid or pushed around for the rest of your life. And when I say stand your ground, I'm not talking about getting into a fistfight. Trust me, that's the last thing I want you to resort to'."
My old man stopped for a moment like he was contemplating everything he had just said before continuing on.
"And then he said, 'It's okay to be scared every now and then, Lynn, but you cannot let it control everything you do in life. So, remember this important lesson I tell you, son. Be brave and hold your ground, no matter the odds'. And that was exactly what I did the next day at school. I told Jake Strong that I was not going to be afraid anymore. I was going to hold my ground and stand up for myself no matter what he would throw at me."
I stared at my dad, eyes wide with admiration, feeling my own spirits lift up.
"What happened next?" I asked, growingly anxious to hear the rest of the story.
"Oh, he beat until I was black and blue," he said in matter-of-fact sort of tone. Just like that, my shoulders slumped in disbelief, feeling like I had just been set up. He must have seen the disappointed look on my face because the next thing he said was, "But despite what happened, I continued to stand up for myself, refusing to give Jake the satisfaction of seeing me whimper and cry like a little baby. In a matter of time, he finally got bored and left me alone. Haven't seen much of him since then, now that I recall."
His original answer may not have been what I was hoping for, but there was at least some level of comfort from the rest.
"And everything my dad told me is what I tell you, sport," Dad said. "When that Freddy kid comes your way, just remember to stand tall and be brave, and hold your ground no matter if the odds are stacked against you. But, if he continues to bother you and doesn't let up, don't be afraid to ask for help. Just also remember that our family will always have your back." I smirked a little, feeling somewhat better and rested my head for a moment against the side of his chest.
After a minute, we parted, and he stood back up to his feet with some effort.
"Alrighty, now why don't you come on downstairs and join the family?" he offered.
"Sure. I'll be down in a minute." I said after nodding. Appearing to be satisfied with his work, Dad turned around and walked outside, leaving me to be once again alone in my bedroom. I leaned back a little bit as my arms kept me stable and I staired up at the ceiling at the white-painted ceiling above, my mind still taking in the story Dad told me and the lesson which I didn't realize would soon leave a strong impression on me later in life.
When I have kids of my own, I'll make sure to teach them the same lesson, I thought before getting up from my bed, stretching my limps out, placing my D&D supplies back underneath, and then walking outside my bedroom door and out into the hallway towards the stairs.
It's always so nice when a parent helps their kid out with bullies. Doesn't make you feel happy? ^_^
And also, the part where Lynn Sr. walks in with Lincoln D&D supplies, yes, I accidentally forgot about them later in the last chapter. At first, I thought about going back and fixing this issue. But then I thought, "Maybe I can use this to my advantage." So, I wrote them into here with them being returned to Lincoln up in his room by a relative instead. Pretty nice how I managed to that work, eh?
Like the late Bob Ross said, "We don't make mistakes, only happy little accidents."
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Until then, have a good day and stay safe out there. ;)