"Alright, who cranked the weirdness dial? I mean look at that thing!" Alice chirped, her voice a mix of awe and amusement. She pointed towards another bizarre rat-like creature which, as if on cue, squawked indignantly and unfurled what appeared to be leathery fur-wings, propelling itself into the sky with an erratic and surprisingly swift flight. John watched it vanish, a flicker of bewildered fascination crossing his face. Its unique escape mechanism was baffling, yet his attention quickly snapped back to the other, more immediate threat: the dog-like anomalies.
"Okay, so this is what that guy meant by 'places overlapping with our world,' right?" John pondered aloud, a slight grin playing on his lips. "Or did the powers-that-be decide to spice things up a bit, avoiding a monotonous human-vs-human hunt?" He shrugged, a newfound acceptance settling over him. "Well, whether this is reality's craziest rollercoaster or some next-level virtual simulation it doesn't change that this is now my reality."
Alice nudged him playfully, poking his stomach. "You're talking as if you've been expecting this. Spill the beans, my mysteriously calm friend. Did you manage to grab some zen sleep, or did you raid the pantry? I can't help but notice the newfound serenity about you. Was it the full stomach that stuffed your worries away?"
John brushed her hand away with a soft chuckle. "Quit it. My seeming tranquillity isn't from a full belly, though I wouldn't say that the good breakfast didn't help. It's because I'd rather tangle with a beast than a human any day. Even the uncanny zombies, as unnerving as they are don't stir up the same emotional turmoil. Animals operate on instinct but humans?" He shook his head. "They tend to act out of sheer capability, doing things because they can and not because it's a necessity. And killing humans? That's always more emotionally taxing. Not that fighting and killing creatures is 'right' or anything, but there's undeniably less of a heartstring tug since you know most in this new world would kill you without problems but with humans there's always that nagging question about if killing them was needed. It's probably some primordial survival instinct, an echo from our hunter-gatherer days perhaps?" He muttered softly as he gazed at them.
He cast a sidelong glance at the armoured dog-like entities, his grip subtly tightening on the dagger. "Anyway, these creatures don't exactly catch me off guard. In literature, comics and anime all sorts of critters evolve in worlds like what reality became. My theory is that they rapidly adapt or undergo total transformations to fit the new world's mold. They become mightier or just plain weirder. So, yeah, I had my suspicions, honestly. Dragons need food and so do the other big baddies that no doubt have been let loose. If anything, I'm expecting plant life to be next in line for a makeover if it hasn't already happened. We might end up with carnivorous petunias or something."
His tone shifted, becoming more direct and serious. "Alice, be on guard. I'm going to try and get close to those hounds and initiate some fighting. I need to get some action under my belt and figure out how to properly use this dagger. Hold off on swooping in unless I'm in real trouble. I've got to learn to stand on my own two feet and roll with this new world's punches."
With that he began to edge closer, his movements cautious yet determined. As he neared, he got a better look at their peculiar forms: furless bodies, their shell-like armour gleaming dully with surprisingly muscular legs ending in oddly rounded paws. Strangely, they showed no reaction as he approached. Some turned their multiple eyes towards him – he noted that each creature sported a different number, some with three pairs well others had seven – all locked onto him now, yet none made a predatory move like a snarling wolf. There was no growling, no baring of teeth. Instead just an unnerving stillness.
Finally, within spitting distance of one, John raised his dagger to strike. But he faltered. The creature nearest him gazed back with tranquil eyes, showing zero intention to leap into attack mode. Before he could process this unsettling observation, Alice's sharp cry ripped through the air: "Watch out!"
Swivelling instantly, dagger raised in a defensive arc, John spotted a blur of matted fur hurtling towards him. He instinctively positioned the dagger to meet the furry menace head-on, his back momentarily turned to the passive dog-creature as he thrust the blade forward with all his might gripped by both hands. A sickening crunch echoed as pearly blades of teeth clamped onto the dagger as the weapon stabbing through the furball's mouth and bursting out the other end. Teeth raked against John's arms as the force of the collision drove him back, causing him to slam into the shell-dog. A harmonious symphony of groans and a dull thud followed, leaving both John and the creature sprawled on the ground, disoriented.
"Hey, could you lend a hand?" John quipped, a wince of pain barely masked by his attempt at humour. "I seem to have adopted this fluff monster and its gnashers are really putting the squeeze on me like a arm binding form of a Chinese finger trap. A little assistance, maybe? I just need those chompers off me. On the upside though, these shell puppies don't seem to be bloodthirsty."
Alice bounced over, her scythe already in hand. "Aw, but it's such a snazzy accessory! Arm guards from the land of fur and fangs! But fine, I'll help cut you free. Though I don't know why you'd want to lose your new fuzzy pal." With a playful smirk she deftly slid her scythe between John's arms in front of the fuzzy trap. One smooth motion later and the arm-bound fluff ball hit the floor with a thud.
From his pack, John retrieved a clean knife and swapped it with the dagger he had wielded earlier. His hands were slightly shaky and he gritted his teeth against the stinging pain. Without hesitation, he sliced open the bite marks on his arms before applying pressure to bleed the bite marks. Finally, a small bottle of antiseptic made an appearance, followed by the meticulous cleaning and bandaging of his arms. It was a practiced and efficient albeit grim display.
"Why did you go all arts and crafts on yourself like that? That looked pretty painful," Alice chimed in, her expression a mix of curiosity, surprise and genuine concern.
"Eh, I'm fine. But I felt like it was something I had to do to get any tooth fragments out and let out any potential venom be bled out before it could properly spread. Even if it's unlikely why gamble, right? No harm in having less poison in my system just in case," John reassured her, his voice a little strained. "And yeah, it did hurt, but it was more like an intense bee sting." He then focused his attention on the creature he slowly helped get back onto its feet.
"And about being this thing's target? I think we should call them Shelbies, because of their shells. I know, not very original but it's better than just calling them 'shell doggies' the whole time." He paused, inspecting the large, passive creature. "Also, I think it was the furball's target, not me. Those dagger-teeth seem like they're made for piercing the shell by using that extreme speed. You've got to admire their strategy, as limited as it is."
He gently opened the Shelbie's muzzle, revealing rows of flat teeth, just as he expected. "Yep, they're certified plant munchers. Maybe they're the future farmhands we never knew we needed? But that's more food for thought for later." He gave the Shelbie a light pat, noting how it didn't even flinch, further reinforcing its docile nature.
His gaze then turned to the now bisected puffball on the ground. He and Alice prodded it with their respective tools, John trying to search for any hard objects within, similar to what he had seen in novels and manga while aiming to minimize contact with the insides as best he could. He was rather amused to notice that Alice was practically entranced, her eyes glued to his actions like a kid mesmerized by cartoons. Much to his own surprise, John located a curious hard object. Reaching in, he pinched it between his fingers, pulling out a peculiar rounded organ adorned with pulsing purple vein-like patterns and a faint, internal glow. Using his dagger, John carefully peeled off a layer of skin-like film to reveal a small, smooth, black marble-like stone nestled within.
"So, there are cores, or something like cores, inside beasts," John proclaimed, holding up the gleaming stone. "No idea about their use yet, but they're bound to be valuable in some shape or form. Perhaps they're the source of their unusual abilities, or a concentrated form of their life essence? Now, let's try to get all we can from this puffball." He attempted a delicate operation to skin the puffball from the inside, but regrettably, his surgical inexperience led to unintentional destruction.
"I get that it hurt you, but did you really have to do that to it? It was already dead!" Alice remarked playfully, gazing at the puffball's scattered fragments, her tone holding a hint of mock disapproval.
John gave her a playful glare before shifting his focus to the puffball's teeth, which lay detached from the mangled remains. "Admittedly, I'm not a professional dismantler. More like a curious scavenger trying to eke out anything worthwhile. I skipped the meat, given our lack of taste-testers and the uncertainty of its edibility. The fur could have been handy for crafting and these teeth seem sturdy and sharp, so I'm sure I can find some kind of use for them eventually." He said well poking through the remnants. "Huh, no bones. Could be why the puffball was so fast and light. Strangest thing is, I don't spot eyes or a brain. Maybe the gem did double duty as a thinker and some kind of sensor to find prey?" John mused, diving deep into his musings about this strange new biology. The implications were fascinating, suggesting a completely different evolutionary path for these transformed creatures.
"Considering you went all 'slice and dice,' how can you tell if it had eyes or a brain left?" Alice teased, her innocence oozing from her wide grin and slight head tilt. Each word was a light-hearted jab, but each word felt like an arrow piercing John's carefully constructed scientific deductions.
He tossed the marble-like stone to Alice. "Here, keep it safe while I go wash up at the house. This stuff feels… sticky and I want to make sure the wounds get a second cleaning." There, John thoroughly washed off his hands and scrubbed away the creature residue, the bizarre episode something he knew he would need to get used to as part of the new world's new normal. The sensation of the encounter, the unexpected impact, the strange gem – it all underscored the profound shift in their reality.
Alice, turning the small, dark stone over in her palm, called out from the doorway, "So, what about the Shelbies? Wasn't the plan to round them up for some in-depth analysis and practice? Who knows, they might have their own sparkly gems inside!" Her voice held an unmistakable note of playful expectation. The possibilities of this new world, with its peculiar perils and hidden treasures, were just beginning to unfold.
As John emerged from the ravaged house, cleansed and ready for whatever the day might throw at them, Alice was waiting. She closed the distance in a rush, a barrage of questions already forming on her lips.
John, however, merely glanced at the Shelbies trotting ahead, their utter indifference to human presence a stark, unsettling fact. He shook his head, a weary sigh escaping him. "No." He eventually said shaking his head. "I'm passing on that for now. It'd be different if we needed food, or if they were actively trying to corner and kill us."
Alice skidded to a halt, then bounded forward to catch up with his steady pace as he walked away. "Hold on a sec! Weren't you all for it just a while ago? Eager for some sparring and investigation? What changed! Aren't you letting the chance to get more of these stone things slip through your fingers?" Her voice held a note of genuine frustration.
John's gaze lingered once more on the Shelbies, their nonchalant demeanour on full display. "True, I was," he conceded, "but I've learned what I needed to. There's no longer a need to lay a finger on them." He paused, then articulated his reasoning, his voice firm. "Even if I were to unleash a torrent of violence upon them what good would come of it? The shells we might gather would weigh us down and become a hindrance we can't afford. And the sheer amount of blood... that scent would undoubtedly attract every predator within miles." He met Alice's eyes. "Besides, my original intent was to confront only one for answers, instead I got those answers from the puffball, not to take on the whole pack of creatures and besides, It was a small detour before making my way back home."
He pulled his gaze from the road ahead, looking at Alice directly. "I want us to focus on getting back and staying sharp. I'm convinced with our luck other things will no doubt happen along the way anyway to give plenty of opportunities for practice."
Then, with a wry and almost bitter chuckle, he gestured broadly. "And look, we've arrived at the local wreckage emporium."
The road had led them into a scene of utter desolation. A mishmash of looted and burnt-out stores lined the street, their shattered windows gaping like empty eyes. Wrecked cars lay strewn about, contorted metal husks amidst the debris. The air was thick with the scent of ash and decay, heavy with a pervasive feeling of abandonment. Bodies, tragically motionless, were scattered across the broken pavement, adding a chilling testament to the violence that had consumed this place.