Dungeons & Deliveries - A Post Apocalypse Comedy Adventure [Book 1 Complete]

"It wasn't me," Mr. Mystical declared, jittering away from the corpse like a wind-up toy on too much caffeine. "I swear it, Alex!" He stopped in front of a dollhouse-sized, multicolored tent and gave his little taxidermied mouse body a vibrating spin to face them. "Okay. Fine! It was me. But he deserved it!" His tiny fez hat tilted dramatically, and though his eyes didn't move, Alex could feel the ghost inside watching them.

"Why'd you kill him!?" Alex yelled the question again and cut his shout short to glance around the parking garage. Luckily, there didn't seem to be anyone else nearby.

The body behind Mr. Mystical didn't just look dead, but emptied of its life force. As if someone had vacuumed out the smugness and left a good looking leather clad husk behind, jaw frozen in a horrified O. Alex recognized him vaguely from earlier that day. It was the guy who owned the obnoxious F-150 that had looked at Alex's car like it was a used diaper. Now he lay sprayed behind a materialized miniature occult tent, deader than dead. Beepy was electronically whimpering and hiding in Mary's chest while Zippy hovered warily nearby.

"Alex!" Mary yelled as she pulled back from the scene. "What the fuck is that!? Why is that mouse next to a dead body?"

"He's not a mouse," Alex said. "Okay. Technically he's a mouse. But it's a ghost possession, and his name is Mr. Mystical."

Mr. Mystical launched his stiff little body into the air and landed with a thus on a purple velvet pillow that appeared into existence in front of the tent. The second he landed, the mini candles ignited that surrounded the tent ignited. A hand painted sign dropped from the top flag with a little brass jingle. 'Mr. Mystical's Traveling Readings!' It read in fancy script.

"EXCUSE ME!" Mr. Mystical proclaimed in his squeaky voice. "Taxidermied MYSTICAL mouse. Please note the third eye, thank you. And I'm not just any ghost, I'm a professional." His body suddenly tilted on its side and balanced stiffly midair. Alex was pretty sure the damn ghost was posing, because somehow the fez hat righted.

"This thing talks!?" Mary said. "This thing kills people!?"

"He was following you, my dear boy!" Mr. Mystical said, vibrating with excitement. "A dastardly disguise in plain sight. And you almost fell for it! You did fall for it! He's…no, wait…he was a Krusher."

"What!?" Alex yelled. "Wait. He was a Krusher?"

"Indeed!" Mr. Mystical responded. "Tailing you all over Yorkville like some rat in a fancy trench coat. I simply had to deal with him."

Mary threw up a hand. "I don't even like the Krushers! But who's going to believe that the mouse did it?!" Zippy was frozen in place while he watched and buffered. Beepy, now realizing they weren't in any immediate grave danger, had peeked out from Mary's arms and watched.

"Yeah! Come on," Alex turned and pulled Mary away to get away from the scene. "Let's go. Mr. Mystical, leave me alone. I don't want any stupid readings!" He yelled over his shoulder. "You just killed someone. That doesn't help! They're already hunting me down, and now what? I'm an accomplice?! Frame me for murder?!"

"We're on the same side!" Mr Mystical called after them, his little voice bouncing off the cars. "Alex! Waiiiit! I can make it go away! Waaaaait!" That made Alex stop mid step, and he turned around slowly to see the mouse chasing after them, vibrating to move.

"What do you mean, make it go away?" he asked warily.

Mr. Mystical stopped and let out an exaggerated sigh through his mouth. "I'm trying to help you, my dear boy," he said. "Come. Commmme! Let Mr. Mystical make it alright. And a reading!" He spun with flair and launched himself toward the velvet pillow like a diving doll. The cadnels even flared as he landed. "No need to thank me. Yet. Now watch," Mr. Mystical said. "Or don't! You probably don't want to."

"Alex," Mary said as she and the bots followed him back to Mr. Mystical's Traveling Readings stand shoved between two extremely expensive cars. "I don't know what the fuck is going on, but Mr. Mystical just killed someone to protect you? Who was after you? And wants to help? Yeah, I'm in."

"Yes!" Mr. Mystical said. "To hurt you! Quite the nasty assassin Skills, might I add," the mouse paused. "Now…you probably want to look away if you're squeamish." Alex didn't look away, and he was pretty sure Mary saw in some strange distorted way through Zippy's camera. He never asked, but she managed to get around, if a bit clumsily. Mr. Mystical's taxidermied body went rigid and the velvet pillow vibrated as a haunting hum filled the air. One by one, the candles turned to a deep blue.

"Oh boy," Alex said.

Ethereal mist flowed from the mouse body as Mr. Mystical's true form peeled itself out like steam comes out of a kettle. The mist flowed into the parking garage and began to form a shape. It was transparent blue but definitely human. A flamboyant looking old white man formed above the pillow with perfectly coiffed hair. Mr. Mystical wore a see through pastel sweater vest, what appeared to be khakis, and little boat shoes on his clearly small feet. He looked like he was halfway through teaching a very polite but drunk golf lesson and yelling about the new neighbours. He gave them a friendly smile, "Let's clean this up, shall we?"

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The smile literally cracked as his jaw dislocated and opened wide. The ghost zipped through the air like a jellyfish, then dove headfirst at the corpse. His gaping mouth stretched open like a python's, and the Krusher's body folded into the void of his face. The whole thing vanished like a tablecloth pulled off a table. Mr. Mystical hovered and his jaw slid back into normal proportions. He daintily floated back towards the pillow and fixed his hair. Alex just stared with an open mouth.

"Oh my fuck." He said.

"That bad?" Mary asked. Zippy beeped once hard and Alex saw the little red light of his camera turn back on. "He turned off his camera. So yeah, I got nothing." Beepy's noises sounded like awe and trauma.

Mr. Mystical cleared his throat. "See? All gone! Poof. Neat as a pin," his ghost form dissolved back into a shapeless form as it flowed into the taxidermied mouse. In just a second, the real ghost form was gone and the mouse was possessed again. "Now then…would you care for your complimentary reading?"

Alex realized he felt better. Not about the ticket, and definitely not good. But better than standing next to a corpse in the middle of a parking lot. The evidence was gone, and clearly Mr. Mystical didn't want to hurt him. Mr. Mystical was offering up a psychic reading after cleaning up like a spectral vacuum. He was still scared of the ghost, though. There were plenty of reasons why no one messed with ghosts. You never knew what kind of unfinished business they carried, and the System rules didn't even seem to apply to them.

"Yes," Alex sighed. "Fine. Give me my reading." Mr. Mystical twitched with glee.

"Marvelous!"

"But," Alex added. "What the hell do you get from helping me?"

"Oooooh," Mr. Mystical said and spun atop the pillow. "A ghost never tells their secrets! Let's just say…" He leaned forward. "We're playing for the same team."

What? Does he mean like ….

"Oh, no. Not like that! I wish, darling. No, no. I mean the real team." Mr. Mystical probably tried to wink but the mouse eyes didn't move.

Alex nodded, still not totally getting it. "Uhh…okay. Just uh…give me my reading please. How does this work? You obviously know we have something planned for the brace–,"

"Do not mention the bracelet!" Mr. Mystical yelped. "Just get rid of it. By tonight, preferably. Nasty little evil vile thing!" the mouse jittered as he rambled. After a few more choice swear words, he seemed to calm down. "Readings don't work like that. No. I have it done already! You just need to hear it. Ooooooooooh!" He finished and made joke ghost noises and laughed. When Alex didn't react, the mouse stopped giggling at his own joke. "No? Not scared. Hmmm. That one usually spooks people." Alex just looked at Mr. Mystical until the ghost got the hint. "Fine! No one appreciates a good psychic these days." Mr. Mystical clear his ghost throat.

"Let us begin the reading, then! All here, hush now. Hush now. Quiet, please. Thank, you. Especially the squeaky one." Even though the mouse rotated, they somehow got the idea that he was talking about Beepy.

The parking garage dimmed, though not like a light being flipped. It was more that the light itself was being sucked out of the air and drained into the velvet pillow. The shadows stretched longer and pooled under the cats as a pressure built around the tiny little tent. Beepy squealed and dove back into Mary's arms. Then a strange voice came. Not the shrill, happy voice of Mr. Mystical's squeaky bravado. The voice was old, slow, and deep, as if they poured out of the mouse rather than being spoken.

"Follow your feet, not maps nor measured thought,

For instinct knows the battles yet unfought,

The belly speaks in steps, in skips, in fire.

It pulls you toward your purpose, not desire.

When mind is fog and fear begins to bite,

Let aching guts and dancing soles delight.

Trust not the road, but where your weight leans next,

The path is felt, not known, but it is checked."

"Woah," Mary said. "Alex, you're like a badass or something."

Alex had gone pale right at the start of the voice. The words were meant for someone grand, like they'd been written in the sky long before they were born, or etched into bone on a sea shore. He was just a poor pizza guy with a lucky job and a cat who probably understood English and had a Gnome posse. He had a hot date coming up and a literal parking ticket he could barely afford still in his hand.

Mr. Mystical snapped back into his usual jittery speech as the light became normal again. "Ooooh! That was a good one! Little rhyme, little spook….," the mouse paused. "Soo? What did you think!?"

"Uhhh," Alex rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't know what the hell that was supposed to mean. But, um. Thank you? I–yeah. I'll trust my gut, I guess."

"PERFECT! YOU GOT THE GIST OF IT! THERE'S A SMART BOY!" Mr. Mystical sang and spun like a top. The tent immediately began to folk in on itself and the candles extinguished. The velvet pillow shot upward and folded in on itself. It then tucked itself into the shrinking tent, which zipped into a little tiny leather briefcase that it had apparently been sitting in. "I must be going now! Now, DO TELL NINA I SAY HI! You didn't do that last time! Seriously, these readings aren't free." Mr. Mystical called as he jittered away. The briefcase followed like a balloon. Alex just stood there in stunned silence and sweated all over the parking ticket.

"Hey," Mary said as she touched his arm. "Let's go home. This has been…a lot." Alex just nodded and walked toward the car in silence.

Stupid mouse. Stupid bracelet. Stupid parking ticket. How the hell am I supposed to pay for a date? He thought to himself as he started his car. His gut was telling him he should just pay for the parking ticket.