Man hunted mammoths by running them to death.

  [Quest Stage Four: Survive the Beast 1:00:04]

  At first, it seemed like nothing was happening. Brom pulled and strained, feeling the water streaming past him as Yacht Sothoth continued on its merry way in the pitch-black waters of Cold Harbor. Then its bow snout began to slowly rise in response to the unavoidable pressure. That chain, the strongest part of its body, barring the structural bones of its spine, had been carefully wedged into the hinge of its jaw. Like a shark with a fishing line stuck in its mouth, it couldn't bring the cutting power of its teeth down to sever it. It could only feel that hideous pressure being put on it.

  The behemoth was a dark god. It had never been disrespected like this! Perhaps it hadn't consumed enough to restore all of its higher mental functions, but at an instinctive level, it was haughty and proud. It was going to fight.

  It dove.

  Brom pulled upward, sawing the chain into its rusted flesh.

  It pulled left.

  Brom pulled right, inflicting pain until it corrected to his will.

  It spun.

  Brom gritted his teeth against the whirling sensation.

  - Unyielding Stance Activated!

  As soon as the creature levelled off, he resumed pulling. Brom was going to drag Yacht Sothoth to the surface or die trying. It no longer mattered to him what the dark elder ship-shark, whatever the fuck this thing was, wanted. He was cold. He was wet. He was exhausted. All he'd wanted to do was get some fucking groceries and go home. Maybe see if his record player worked and turn on some music while he just relaxed with the cats.

  Instead, he'd been put absolutely through it.

  He'd punched his brother in that fucking punchable face of his. He'd seen the hollowed-out flesh puppet of his mother sitting just like the fake plant in the front room of their family business. He'd been covered in eel gore, eating the worst fucking meal of his life, and been subjected to bad touch by a woman almost old enough to be his grandmother. Then he'd been swallowed by this rotting horror bastard like Geppetto. Burned. Slammed around. Cut open.

  Brom let out a scream of pure emotion as he hauled on that chain. The water muffled it, carrying it away in a stream of harmless bubbles. But Yacht Sothoth heard it, bucking under him in resonant fury. He increased his grip, hands trembling in the loops of the links. Brom had practically broken his fists to shove them through the links, his fingers denting into the metal. He'd shackled himself to this monster, and it was damn well going to obey him, or they were going to die together.

  [Quest Stage Four: Survive the Beast 00:45:44]

  Brom saw light, faint but definitely there, and then they broke the surface. Water sheeted off of him, the filthy spray giving way to gloriously rotten air that reverberated with the pained bellows of the behemoth under him. The sound of Yacht Sothoth's bow cutting the waves was music to his ears, the spray pounding against its hull. He gave a hoarse laugh, slacking the tension just enough to snap the reins, cracking them off the deck.

  "See? It's not so bad when you behave."

  The moment the pressure eased, it dove again.

  He wrenched it back upward, causing the beast to slam upward like a submarine blowing ballast for an emergency breech. The impact reverberated up him as they slammed back down in the water, and he bit his tongue as his jaws slapped together. "You're a fucking toddler, you know that?! Give you an inch, and you take a dive. No more of that, you're going to listen."

  Brom pulled the right chain, and slowly that big bow curved right to ease the pressure. He kept it up, pulling it tighter and tighter, forcing the eldritch god to swim in ever smaller circles. Then he let the pressure up and looked around. It was almost impossible to get his bearings, his eyes were shot from the belly of the beast and the burn of being underwater. It took a bit for his body to catch up and fix the problem.

  Town was off to his left, and he gently steered Yacht Sothoth in that direction. Of course, it wasn't smooth, it still fought, yanking right and trying to dive. His commands remained smooth and careful, standing there on its nose and steering it exactly where he wanted it. This wasn't up for debate. Fucking boat-eating ship-sharks didn't get a vote in the Senate of the Republic of Brom. He tapped a foot impatiently on the steel skin, maybe with a little more force than needed. He doubted it hurt, but it was a reminder.

  "You can keep fucking fighting, it's making my goddamn night." Was it night? He had no idea. "By the time I'm done with you, you're going to be the first fish with a human allergy." Okay, that had sounded better in his head, but what could you expect from him? He'd been awake for probably thirty hours at this point.

  - Exhaustion

  Oh. Well, that was one way to get a second wind!

  "I really can do this all day."

  [Quest Stage Four: Survive the Beast 00:30:10]

  "Hey, you like deals, right? Exchange? I've got an offer to make you. You help me do one thing in the next twenty-nine minutes, and I'll let you go. Deal?"

  The ship flesh under him seemed to shudder as if Yacht Sothoth realized that there could finally be an end to this.

  "Alright then, I'm going to steer now, all you have to do is swim where I tell you and chomp anything in your way. Doesn't sound so bad, right?"

  Slowly, the behemoth eased into a smooth glide, and for the first time, the rein chains went a bit slack. It seemed that Brom and the beast had come to an accord.

  "Alright, we start by going this way." He gently tugged the left chain and felt the bulk under him rotating, putting the distant shape of Cold Bay dead ahead. They were quite a distance away, almost all the way out in the sea channel, and to get where he needed to go would take almost the last of the time he had. "Hey, you like music?"

  He cocked his head down at the deck under him.

  Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

  "I love music. It was all I ever wanted in life. To play it. To share it. To watch other people love it. Not to toot my own horn, but my voice is pretty fucking fine. It's not in great shape right now. I've swallowed a lot of salt and bullshit tonight, but it could be worse. You like shanties?"

  Yacht Sothoth shuddered.

  "You're a ship! How could you not like shanties, man? They took the internet by storm a few years back. Like everyone was suddenly singing that one in particular. You sure you don't like shanties? They're a great way to pass the time."

  A metallic groan ran through the steel, a final confirmation that the eldritch ship abomination did not, in fact, like shanties.

  "Sheesh, fine. Everyone's a critic."

  [Quest Stage Four: Survive the Beast 00:23:19]

  Everything was becoming clearer now. That rotten reflection of the town, the corpses of buildings leering from dead mountainsides. The waterfront. The cute little white building of the CHYC, sans chunk. He focused on that.

  "Hey, you got a voice? Can you give me like a full-on 'shit your pants' roar? Lik-"

  The maw of the ship-shark opened in a scream of metal, and the unholy cacophony that issued forth was a thing that could liquify mortal bone. It was an absolute symphony of fear, from the deep, brassy rumble of a throaty ship's foghorn to the whistling hiss of boiler steam and the shriek of metal on metal as those inner chains dragged. Perhaps it could have escaped right there. Used the chains inside to sever the links of the one wedged in its maw. Maybe they didn't reach? Or maybe this thing was a being of its word.

  Were they there? Had they gathered? Did they feel the pain and shame of their god or hear its bellow of wrathful fear? It was too damn dark for Brom to see, and nobody wanted to fucking light a candle.

  "Hey System, for future reference, nobody likes it when the scene is too fucking dark."

  [Quest Stage Four: Survive the Beast 00:18:12]

  Not much time left now, they were picking up speed as they continued to plough toward that cute little white building with its navy trim. So out of place, so easy to find in the gloom. Like a beacon. Did they know now? Had one of those serving ghouls pointed it out to them. Did their missing eyes see this shit?

  Brom hoped TJ and his friends were okay. That they'd gotten somewhere safe down there, tucked themselves away in one of those corridors and that what was to come wasn't going to harm them in any way. Man, he couldn't wait to tell that kid how proud of him he was. He'd been firing his bow like a true champion, no hesitation, even in the face of something he didn't understand. All of them had acquitted themselves really well for something that had to be pretty frightening. Brom could only imagine what he'd looked like, a man who kept almost combusting and then watching the flames just snuff out on his skin.

  Still, it wasn't cool of TJ to ignore him like that. He'd almost gotten swept away in that tidal wall. Brom wouldn't have been able to help him either. Plus, Alex had run out of mana, spending all those heals on Brom, if they'd gotten banged up, it would have been really bad. Maybe planning for future contingencies was the name of the game.

  Then again, he hadn't expected any of this. Dungeons were fucking terrifying!

  [Quest Stage Four: Survive the Beast 00:09:11]

  Under ten minutes. Finally, the home stretch. Brom snapped the chains with a laugh. "Alright! Ramming speed!"

  Under him, Yacht Sothoth lurched, throwing itself into a barreling charge. Its bow was pointed right at the damaged CHYC, and now Brom could make out the tiny figures that were rapidly growing closer. Were they praying? Having heard that roar earlier, they couldn't begin to think that Yacht Sothoth was happy, so what was going through them as they saw him now. Slowly, Brom pulled one hand free of the chain loop, losing some skin in the process. He wasn't mad, the blood just helped lubricate things.

  HP: 372/600

  Both chains were held in one hand, and he raised the other high above in a big, lazy wave. If he could see them, then they could see him. Well, as much as they could see. Maybe they could just sense him through whatever powers they'd been granted by the god under his feet. He had never found out what Yacht Sothoth was doing with the collected eyes, if it even gave a damn about them at all. He sure hadn't noticed them anywhere he'd passed inside. Then again, in the grand scheme of things, an eyeball or two was pretty tiny and easily squished.

  [Quest Stage Four: Survive the Beast 00:05:00]

  "Almost done! See that building? Smash it to bits!"

  An eager shudder rippled through the steel flesh of the ship-shark. It was almost done, and it had its final orders, its metal screaming in joy. Wanton indiscriminate violence was it's favorite after all.

  [Quest Stage Four: Survive the Beast 00:04:00]

  He could see them nice and close now. The shining bald heads of the two men. The perfectly coiffed hair of the three women. Limbless Linda's arms had been reattached somehow. Dead center of them all was Benjamin, stunned as if he'd been hit with a hammer. "Never thought I'd jump the shark, did ya?!" He smirked to himself, heart hammering against his ribs in excitement.

  [Quest Stage Four: Survive the Beast 00:03:00]

  Brom dropped the chains, they were unneeded now, jogging up Yacht Sothoth's bow as it screeched open. As it reached the apex of its bite, he planted a sneaker on its highest point, leaning on his knee and looking down on them.

  [Quest Stage Four: Survive the Beast 00:00:45]

  "Hey Benjamin, decided to come back to the table after all. Here's my counteroffer." He thrust forth two middle fingers. "Get recked."

  The jaws of Yacht Sothoth snapped closed.

  [Quest Stage Four: Survive the Beast 00:00:00]

  [Stage Complete!]

  [Event Dungeon: Into the Maw! Complete!]

  [Rewards will be sent to you shortly!]