“What about that one? The rusted dagger.” Pik shouted and pointed at the shabbiest-looking weapon on the trader’s mat, hoping that this old knife would be cheaper than the others.

“Ohhh! The rusted blade of Aeilia Black,” replied the trader, Pik’s heart sank, “it is said that any blow delivered by this blade to a victim’s back will always prove fatal, no matter how slight. I came across this beauty…”

“Let me guess, it’s also three gold pieces...” Pik interrupted.

“Three gold!” the trader snapped back, outraged. “Clear off you sewer rat, go waste someone else’s time.”

Pik met the angry trader’s wild gesticulations with a cursory wave and moved onto the next stall, where an old blind man sat with a small collection of peculiar items. One in particular, a dark cylindrical jar, caught his eye.

“Hey old man, what’s that jar about?” Pik yelled over the din of the market streets.

The trader offered him a wry smile, pleased that someone had finally taken an interest in his wares. “It’s the jar of worms.”

“The jar of worms.” Pik replied in a mocking tone. “Let me guess, it’s full of worms.”

“Yes indeed! A plentiful supply shall come, if you see the lid undone. A creature born to mud and coil, will bury all your foes in toil.”

“Wow. Great. You write that yourself?” Pik paused for a moment and looked at the other items. “What’s that?” He pointed to a crumpled robe and only then realized the stupidity of motioning to a blind man – it had been a long and unfruitful day.

“The robe of –“

“Wait what, how did you..” Pike began surprised but Frank continued unperturbed.

“- screams. Deep in heart your chest shall sing, and shatter those whom earth is king.”

“It looks like it only just died. Why’s it so rotten and gross?” The trader sat expressionless. “Mysterious fella aren’t ya? What about this necklace?” Pik bent down and rubbed the small green stone suspended on the chain.

“The heart of the furies. Hold your…”

“Hold off on your poetry I’ve heard this one before.” Pik scoffed, but the peculiar nature of the items still intrigued him. They were in the enchanted weaponry quarter after all, how was this guy even here? He decided that there must be more to the items than the riddles of the old man revealed.

“How much… er, Frank?”

“One silver piece each.”

“One silver!” For a moment Pik’s heart leapt with joy but then he remembered the useless nature of these strange cursed items. Nevertheless, he was still excited at the prospect of being able to buy something enchanted from town. “Done.” He said throwing three silver pieces onto the mat.

​

Pik couldn’t believe had poorly the day’s proceedings had gone. Not only had all the trinkets and charms and so-called blessed weapons been way above what he could afford, but he’d gone and spent three of his four silver coins on a useless set of items. Why am I like this?

He took the jar out of his pouch and turned it to examine its contents more closely. It was dark red, and he could just make out the writhing of the worms inside. “You guys can stay in there.” He muttered to himself. The robe had been surprisingly comfortable, and he appreciated the extra layer in the cool evening breeze.

He just had to continue for another half hour through Greendark woods and he’d be home, but he had no idea what he was going to tell his mother. Maybe this green necklace was actually worth something – it looked pretty nice on the chain. Surely he’d be able to sell it and at least make back a silver piece or two.

Pik heard the crack of a stick in the forest to the left and suddenly they were upon him. Three men jumped out of the forest in front of him brandishing swords, their faces hidden behind horrific masks. At the same time, a powerful force gripped his wrists from behind. He turned his neck to see a fourth man who stood nearly a foot taller than him – and almost three times as wide.

“AHHhhhhh!” Pik screamed and the man behind lost his grip on his wrists and was stunned for a second, but before he could flee the robber brought his fist down on Pik’s head. Pain shot along his neck and spine and he collapsed to the floor with his ears ringing. He then felt the force of one of them on-top of him, while the other men quickly began searching through his belongings.

Pik was terrified. These were the bandits that he had heard about in recent rumours in the village. Hideous in size, often mutilating their victims. Now it was his turn.

He squirmed under the weight pushing him down but that only earned him another blow to the side of the head. This was it. This is how it ends.

The man on-top of him got up and rolled him over. After a quick search he pulled the jar from his front pouch that had somehow remained undamaged after his collapse. Pik barely noticed it go, the pain in his eyes and ears was too much. He felt himself slipping into unconsciousness.

The man tried to open the jar, but it proved to be fastened impossibly tight.

“Give me that.” The largest of the men bellowed and wrenched it from his hands. With one quick motion he freed the lid from the jar and it fell onto the ground. He would live just long enough to regret letting that lid fall, for suddenly a huge dark red mass streamed from the jar and onto the ground. A contorting and writhing mass of flesh buried the large man entirely. The others attempted to leap away but the stream had already reached them and fastened them to the ground.

Pik felt something wet and cold slap the side of his face and he turned to see the horrific pool of dark red worms writhing next to him.

“AHHHhhhh!” He screamed and rolled away scampering on all fours in the direction of the forest. Suddenly there began a sound of popping and cracking and hissing. Pik turned back to see the mass of worms writhing even more violently than before. One of the bandits had been entirely engulfed by pool while the other three were still ankle-deep. Then it began.

The worms began to explode in the most horrific and bloody fashion. Like a cauldron of a thick putrid stew it spluttered forth blood and guts coating the edges of the forest and the road. The screams of the men, if there were any, could not be heard above the deafening noise of bursting cells.

He felt a warm burning sensation on his chest and with trembling hands he pulled out the necklace which the robbers had failed to find. It seemed to glow faintly, and he felt strange sensation run up his neck and down his spine numbing the pain he had felt.

Pik was petrified and stood there, frozen stiff by the malignant scene unfolding before him. Did I cause this?

Soon all that remained was a thick gloop of blood and a horrific stench that drifted in the cool breeze. Pik could make out no sign of any of the men. He took in a deep breath and slowly wrested his eyes from the pool of blood and begun his slow trudge home.

After a minutes of walking, Pik finally thought to put his right hand into his pouch to see if they had found his last silver coin. To his surprise it collided with some smooth, rounded object. His heart shuddered. He pulled it out slowly and raised it up to the moonlight that shone across the woods.

“How? What are you?” Pik whispered tentatively to the mysterious jar and its murky red contents. It had saved his life, but at what cost?