Tall Tale TV SciFi and Fantasy Short Story Audiobooks
Of Monsters and Mushrooms by Lesley Herron
Chapter 15 Cortinarius
"Stiiiick.," Attila repeated, dragging the word along as he flourished a large stick
between two hands.
He spun it against his palms, exaggerating his emphasis.
Errik rolled his eyes.
This was the...fourth?
No, fifth item Attila had plucked something off the ground in a vain attempt to reteach
his friend English.
Errik opened his mouth to retort, but the giant leaf he had been pushing against, gave
way, and he toppled into the brush.
He grumbled around a mouthful of dirt, and snatched up his glasses from a tiny stagnant
puddle.
He grimaced as he got to his feet, looking down at his filthy, and incredibly smelly,
spectacles.
Two long days had passed since they were ejected from the portal.
And, regretfully, they were lost.
His pride wouldn't allow him to convey this to his comrades, but he was sure they knew.
There were no signs of intelligent life, they were low on provisions, and down two members.
All in all, Errik was amazed his patience had lasted this long.
Brig pondered Attila's display for a moment, nodding in turn.
He tapped a finger against his massive chin, thoughtfully, before he pointed at the stick
and responded with, " Nail joy."
He offered his friend a large white smile, awaiting his approval.
Attila deflated a little, even the sides of his hat drooped.
"Come on, Brig!
This is an easy one!
Stick.," he paused, moving the stick from one hand to the other.
"Stiiick."
Errik wiped the front of his glasses against his shirt, shoved them back on his face, and
whirled around.
"Will you-," he started, reaching over and ripping the stick from Attila's hand before
heaving it into a nearby thicket.
"-give it a rest already!?"
Had he not have been in such a sour mood, Errik knew he would have been able to marvel
at the wonder of the Rainforest that they were currently lost in.
They were surrounded by numerous plants and vegetation, the like of which Errik had never
seen before.
Leaves on the trees and brush were massive, the smallest ones the size of dinner plates;
the largest took all three of them to heave out of the way.
Rays of sunlight pierced through the canopy in periodic locations, creating an eerie illuminated
glow, and revealing, more often then not, some animal denizen of the forest.
The forest floor, and many of the trees, were blanketed in a thick green nettle moss.
It was stiff and brittle, and crunched when they walked over it.
More then once they had to avoid a group of bees, the size of cats, as they traveled between
the massive flowers.
Worst of all, the realm was bathed in a constant light from two suns.
When one would set, the other would rise, bringing with it an ever present daylight.
And also, an unwavering sweltering heat.
None of this, however, seemed to put a damper on Attila's spirits.
That is, until he watched his stick disappear behind a giant dandelion like weed.
He took his flower hat off, and slumped as he scratched his head.
"Sorry, I just..."
"I told you...how many times?
The mushrooms.
Will.
Wear.
Off."
Errik pushed his fingers into a throbbing point on his temple.
"Sorry."
"Yeah.
Sorry.," Brig commented, offhandedly as he plopped a massive hand on Attila's shoulder.
Immediately rejuvenated, Attila jumped to his feet.
"WOOHAY!," he rejoiced, flinging his flower hat into the air.
"I knew you could do it, buddy!"
Brig's eyes lit up as he realized he had successfully communicated something.
"Season lift!," he explained, clapping his friend, hard, on the back.
"We'll keep trying, Brig.," Attila assured, lurching forward a step.
He began scouring the ground for his flower hat, when he noticed it flying away on the
back of a giant insect.
He let out an indignant huff, and wrenched a massive leaf from the dandelion weed.
He put it on his head, nodded to himself for a moment, before he whipped it off, and began
dancing around frantically.
"Aphids.
Except, they're the size of spiders.
Interesting."
Errik noted, pushing his glasses up on his face to get a better look at one of the giant
bugs as Attila screamed in a panic, pulling off his poncho and dropping into the dirt.
It took them a few minutes to extricate the aphids and calm him down.
Attila had reclaimed his composure and found a hollow bark button.
He plopped it on his head, accepting of it's fez like appearance.
"So.," he said after a while.
"What are we doing?"
Errik blinked at him.
"What do you mean, 'what are we doing'?
We're trying to put some distance between us and that gate.," he replied, his hands
gesturing violently upwards.
An action he regretted instantly as a parakeet-sized mosquito latched onto it.
He slapped away the monstrosity before adding, " We're also trying to find some civilization.
We need a new gate, or a way back through that one."
he dodged a second mosquito, and then a third.
"Maybe even some bug repellent..."
Attila nodded, offering Brig a piece of bark to wear in a similar fashion.
"Oh no, I get that.
I'm just wondering why...why we aren't going after your brother?
Shouldn't you be more worried about him?"
Brig took the piece of bark, giving Attila a quizzical look.
"Glib trotter?"
Attila nodded encouragingly.
Brig shrugged, sniffed it, and bit into it with animal like voracity.
"If he wants to wander off into the forest on his own, that's his problem.
We don't need him anyway.," Errik snorted bitterly.
Brig spat out the chunk of bark he had been chewing on, pulling a face as he scraped bits
from his tongue.
He yanked Attila's 'hat' off, and broke it out of spite.
Attila shot a look of near-loathing at his friend before returning his attention to their
party leader.
"Okay...but..."
"No!
We're not going back for him.
He can find his own way out."
Errik turned, yanking a giant leaf out of his path, thankful this one was bug free.
They trudged along a steep embankment, swarming with biting insects and perilous footing.
Attila went through several different 'hats' before finally settling on the nut cap of
a giant acorn like seed, proclaiming to Brig that it made him look like a Frenchman.
It was nearing mid-day, or midnight, depending on how you viewed it, when the path opened
up to the bank of a large river.
It made up for it's incredibly swift waters with lots of jagged rocks.
Errik swore.
Attila kicked a rock in.
It disappeared into the rapids in a flash.
"So.
What's with you and your brother, anyway?"
He tossed in a stick.
Errik scanned their path for a moment, before deciding that following the river was still
the best way to find civilization.
He started off downstream, hoping this way would have less perils than uphill.
"I'd really rather not get into that right now."
"Well, I think you should.
Because, right now it just feels like your temper is getting us more and more lost.
Maybe if you let off some steam, you can figure out a better plan to get us home.," Attila
said with stolen wisdom, as he flung a giant leaf into the waters, watching it sail away
like a tiny boat being torn to shreds.
"Home?
Heh.
That's really where it all started, I suppose.," Errik relented with a sigh.
"My brother and I aren't really from your world, we're-"
"Wait what!?," Attila interrupted, his nut cap hat almost dislodged from it's perch
as he dropped the giant flower he was hauling over to the river.
"Does that make you an ALIEN?"
Errik couldn't help his mouth from falling ajar.
"I mean...technically.
Sure.
But if you're expecting green skin and invasive medical procedures, sorry to disappoint."
Attila nodded slowly, but eyed him nevertheless.
"That -does- explain the pointy ears..."
"Anyways...," Errik began, plucking a leaf from a vibrant orange bush.
"My family was never very big on feelings.
My dad was a scientist, worked long hours, and left when I was young to go save the world.
Or something.
More than likely, he was just escaping our stern and iron-willed Mother.
If she had a maternal side, she hid it fairly deep.
So, me and Vel pretty much raised each other while avoiding her and her overbearing and
aggressive demeanor.
She wanted complete and total control.
We just wanted a family."
Brig sniffled a little from behind them, but played it off as a reaction to flower pollen
when they turned to look at him.
Errik smiled slightly.
"But, uh, one day a rift appeared in our world.
And like your realm, we were hesitant of it.
Almost a year went by and nothing happened.
Many ventured through the gate, setting off to explore.
A few returned to report another plane of existence beyond it.
A prime opportunity for me, I thought.
So, in the middle of the night, I packed up some things and headed out to the gate."
Errik let out a heavy sigh, and flung the leaf away from him as they pressed further
downstream.
"I don't know if it was because he didn't trust me, or wanted to control my life, but
my brother was there, at the gate, waiting for me.
I couldn't persuade him to go back home, so he came with.
We fought.
A lot.
Usually about going back home.
But I had decided there was nothing left for me back there, so I wanted to keep traveling.
And he always stayed with me.
I don't know if Mother told him to watch over me, or he just decided it would be fun to
boss me around in seventy different worlds."
The river curved around a bend, and a dense gathering of thick vines descended from the
canopy above.
Errik tugged on one, gauging whether it might bear his weight to swing across the rapids.
"The portals were more common in those realms, you see, and we never had to worry about making
it back.
They all worked like doorways.
Until, eventually, we landed in your world.
We found things about your cities and habits that fascinated us, and we immersed ourselves
in that realm; became just another inhabitant."
Attila attempted to climb one of the vines, but his lack of upper body strength reared
it's ugly head.
"And you've been there ever since?"
"Uh, not quite.
We got caught up in the fire, remember?
And, well, that was that.
After saving his life, Vel demanded we go home.
I conceded, since his injuries were a result of him following me.
But when we tried to leave, there was only the one gate, and it lead to the Otherworld.
We had come through it from one place, and when we tried to return the way we came we
were thrust into that desert of bugs and unseen instead.
We managed to eventually escape, but there was no returning to our world."
"So, what you're saying is that you're pouting because you have an over protective brother?,"
Attila clarified.
"Vine.," Brig said.
"Pouting?," Errik asked, looking up in mild surprise.
"Sounds to me like you should just get over it.," Attila said with a touch of ice.
He straightened up, and slapped Brig on the shoulder.
"He and I have been through some really hard times together.
And boooy did we fight!
I always won, though.
But that's not important.
What is, however, is that in the end, I've always got someone to travel with, and so
do you!
So, how about we turn around and go find your brother?"
Errik pulled a face at Attila's 'pep talk'.
"And, where exactly do you propose we start?"
"Vine.," Brig repeated, a little more urgently.
"Exactly, buddy.
I -am- always right!," Attila chuckled, nodding his head as he did.
Brig let out an exasperated sigh, grabbed Attila by the shoulders, hard, and spun him
around.
"VINE!," he said, jabbing his finger in the direction of the river.
Before any of them could react, the vines that hung about the water's edge surged forward
with sentient ferocity.
The thick ropes constricted around each of them, slowly hauling them upwards.
The more they fought, the tighter their coils became.
"What a time for you to start using proper words again, Brig!," Attila cried out as
he struggled with the bindings around his arm.
Brig was being pulled up by no less than seven massive vines.
Each time he'd snap one in half, two more would appear to restrain him.
He kept at it until he resembled a ball of yarn, completely covered and immobilized.
"Stop!
You're making it worse!," Errik cried out, as he dug his fingers into the tendril around
his neck.
He looked up, to see exactly where they were being ushered off to.
Nestled in the heart of the tree, in an almost parasitic fashion, was a giant flower.
It's petals were flashing between a bright orange and a dangerous red and ended in wicked
looking black spines.
They twisted around the bell of the plant before finally opening to reveal a monstrous
fanged mouth.
"OH GOOD!," Errik shouted in a panic, his fingers now scrambling to undo his bindings.
"If it's not the damn bugs trying to eat you, it's the plants!
I HATE THIS PLACE!"
"Relax!
I've got this."
Before Errik could stop him, Attila had his micro torch pulled form his pocket and was
attempting to light his vines on fire.
A horrible shrill screech rent the air around them, scattering thousands of winged creatures
from the canopy.
The creature writhed in agony, the colors on it's petals flashing more rapidly.
Fire licked it's way up each vine, jumping from tentacle to tentacle and finally latching
onto their clothing.
"FIRE?!," Brig shouted.
He had managed to gnaw a small space out of his net of vines in time to see they were
being enveloped in flames.
"ATTILA!
BAD!"
"WOOHAY!
HE SPEAKS!!," Attila cried out, clearly unphased by the fire working it's way up his
pant leg.
It seemed that, despite their varied efforts, nothing was slowing this creature down.
It was set on eating them, and would do so whether it burned to death or not.
Errik gave up trying to free himself, and focused on the maw above him.
His eyes landed on the nut cap hat atop Attila's head and an idea sprang to mind.
"Attila!
I need your hat!," he ordered, straining to reach the merc.
"What!?
No!
It took forever to find one I like!"
"Just fork it over!," Errik ordered again, his finger tips almost able to reach the stem.
Attila sighed, and removed the nut cap from his head.
With a heavy sullen look, he pushed it into Errik's outstretched hand.
Then his eyes went wide when he realized he was quickly becoming a human torch.
"WHATTHEHELLI'MONFIRE!?!?"
With all the grace he could muster, Errik expertly tossed the giant acorn cap towards
the head of the fiery plant, aiming to plug the gaping jaws of death.
It spun through the air like a frying pan, wobbling this way and that.
It missed the mouth entirely, and clocked the plant hard at the base of the bulb.
The effect was instantaneous, as the plant went limp.
Apparently unconscious, the vines went slack and they fell from it's blazing grasp.
Errik clenched his eyes shut, unwilling to watch what was coming next as they fell through
the air like flaming torpedoes.
Somewhere off to his right, he heard Attila's flailing and screeching, while Brig was shouting
utterances of insults and profanities just behind him.
There was a tremendous noise, and suddenly water began to fill up around them.
Errik opened his eyes to a blurred vision of a bed of plants drifting lazily in the
current of murky green water.
The way they swayed with the current was so surreal, it was almost like a dream.
And then just as quickly as it had appeared, Errik was slapped away from the serene scene
and into one of white water rapids slicing against razor sharp rocks.
He tried desperately to grab a hold of something.
But the rocks were slick with foam and water, and the rush of water too strong.
He was forced down again and again by the undertow.
His fingers dug desperately in the sand and mud, trying to keep from being swept away
by the current.
But they couldn't hold, and he suddenly felt his back slam into something hard.
He struggled to get away, but at the feeling of fabric tearing, he realized he was snagged
by his coat.
It held fast, and he was trapped below the surface.
Suddenly, the thing that had him snared, tightened it's grip around the fabric, pulled it tight
and began to haul him up to the surface with incredible force.
His lungs heaved with gratitude, and he turned, expecting to see his brother.
Brig had a firm grip on a large low hanging branch and was holding Errik with the other.
Attila had latched himself to his friend around the middle.
"I hate water!," Attila choked between breaths.
Crack!
The three of them looked up in dismay.
The branch they were attached to gave an ominous tremble.
While it was quite large and sturdy, the branch wouldn't able to hold all three of them against
the rushing current for long.
It shuddered again as another splintering crack sounded.
"Branch!
Bad!
No hold!," Brig shouted, securing his grip around Errik's coat.
"I'll save us!"
Attila was now attempting to scale Brig's body, straining to grab a hold of a stronger
portion of the tree.
In his haste to escape, he jammed the toe of his boot into his friend's side, which
cause Brig to recoil.
Great.
Errik thought, as his mood soured again.
They were going to drown in an unknown realm in some backwoods river with zero chance of
being found.
Somehow, this was all his brother's fault.
Or at least his fault for wandering off and not sticking around to help.
Their lifeline had finally had enough.
The current of the rushing river, combined with their weight, caused the branch to snap
at last and they were plunged back into the depths.
They rolled and pitched in the waves, rocks cut at them as the branches above taunted
them as they hurtled downriver.
Attila was screaming every time he resurfaced, and certainly didn't silence himself as they
were unceremoniously shot over a small waterfall.
The screaming only stopped when they were dropped into a relatively calm portion of
the river, and their abused bodies drifted slowly towards the riverbank.
Atop of the noises of Attila moaning, there was the distinct sound of human-like chatter.
Complete with little whoops and hollers of delight.
"What's that!?
What's going on!," Attila cried out, splashing about as he tried to turn himself around to
face the commotion.
"It looks like...," Errik started, before Brig's limp body smacked into him, forcing
him under.
He reemerged, coughing out a lungful of water.
"...civilization?"
Attila began to frantically wave his hands above his head.
"HEY!
HEY HELP US!"
A series of fishing nets sailed through the air and tangled themselves around the three
waterlogged travelers, hauling them roughly into the shore.
From beneath Brig's unconscious bulk, Errik could see a tribe of tiny, hairy humanoids
with large wooden masks hopping around excitedly.
Attila sat up in his net and addressed one of the pygmies.
"We come in peace!," he said, unable to hide the panic in his voice as he raised his
hands.
The pygmy closest, and by far the hairiest, lifted a knobbly wooden stick and whipped
it hard across Attila's head, knocking him out cold.
Errik sighed, and slumped back into the wet mud, pretending to be unconscious himself.
Of Monsters and Mushrooms, an ongoing series by Lesley Herron, is a crossover fanfiction
mixing her own characters and settings with a few of those created by Author J.D. Wiley.
She writes for the fun of devising new ways of messing with her characters, and seeing
just how much trouble they can get into.
Bannana Production!
Hello kids!
Tourniquet chain-bender Manhattan
I'm here with a very important massage!
Ahem, Man-hattan.
A very important message!
Stump.
Glass.
Hammer.
Don't.
Do.
Drugs.
Glue dot control!
Stay in school!
Com BENDER knock back man cower.
And NEVER eat strange mushrooms
Cow freedman
My name's Brig
Slack number route fun march!
And Attila is my hero!
Paper?!
Seriously, he's just awesome!
Echo front can!
And way more handsome than me!
Hatrack!
AHHH!!!!
Leggo!!!
CROWBAR!!
Hrrrk!
Stay-in-school-be-safe-Attila's-great-bye!!
Swizzle stick. . .
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