The Gate of the Feral Gods (Dungeon Crawler Carl, #4)

by Matt Dinniman

“Hey, don’t puke on my shoulder.” “Where else am I going to do it, Carl?” she said between breaths. She proceeded to puke on my shoulder. “Goddamnit, Donut,” I said. “In ancient Egypt, it was considered an honor for a cat to vomit upon you. You should thank me.”

I laughed. “Hey, Donut. If we were back home, you’d finally be able to knock that vase off the high shelf.” “That thing was a menace, Carl. It was haunted.”

New Achievement! Hail Mary! You have initiated an attack that has caused more than 100 casualties more than 100 kilometers from your current position. You’re either the universe’s greatest sniper, or you’ve been a sneaky, little, portal-using bitch. Either way, that’s rather impressive. You’d have a great career in politics ahead of you if, you know, we hadn’t destroyed your world and all the governments and stuff.

It hadn’t been a thing before, but I now had a new phobia: creepy-ass little kids.

You will not break me. Fuck you all. I will break you.

“You keep destroying governmental buildings, Carl,” Donut said. “People are going to start thinking you have a problem with authority.”

Being a pacifist was one of those things that looked and sounded great when you were trying to get laid. Not so much when you were literally fighting for your life.

As always, safety came last.

A circle formed as the children, dromedarian and changeling alike, started using their newfound riches to establish a gambling ring where they bet on who could launch their juice box straws the furthest. Donut was suddenly in on the action, hopping up and down and betting loudly. The other crawlers all cowered in the corner, not certain what to do. We’d all been in the room for less than three minutes.

Katia: I don’t know. Have you built the missiles yet? Carl: Doing it now. We got a little distracted on the way in. Katia: Cutting it a little close don’t you think? Donut: WE’RE WATCHING TOY STORY. HAVE YOU SEEN IT? Katia: What? Carl: We’ll be ready in a minute.

Will you use it to tie people up? Will you use it to save the lives of those you love? Will you wrap your ankles together and sensuously rub your supple feet up and down a dungeon wall while you run your hands through your hair? Who knows! But you just got yourself a roll of the universe’s greatest duct tape.

Whenever I saw a helmet like that, I would think of that day and remember how easy it was to grow numb and not even realize it. I’d think, I’m never getting a pet again. All they do is die.

Carl my baby

But that’s what happens, isn’t it? The universe shows us how cruel it can be, and we are worse for it.

Sometimes we do things that are not of our nature to protect our own.

I’d say he has a stick up his ass, but he’s always clenched so tight, there’s no way a stick would fit up there.

Louis: You know a plan is really desperate when it requires confidence in people like us. Firas: Shut the hell up, Louis. He’s trying to build our self-confidence.

New Achievement! You’re the reason why daddy drinks! You have, for an unspecified reason, raised the ire of the System AI. You have corrected the issue, and everything is back to normal. The acceleration action has been suspended. This time. Good boy. Reward: You’ve received a Gold Makeup Sex is the Best Sex box.

So you want to be a writer. It started with sappy poetry in middle school. You soon graduated to Naruto fan-fiction. By the time you crash landed face-first into adulthood, your brain swelled with the misguided notion that your shitty novel with a self-insert protagonist sporting a traumatic childhood would change the world. Spoiler alert. Nobody is going to read your autobiography disguised as a space vampire and minotaur romance. You and every other half-wit out there with a nearby Starbucks and a laptop is writing the same bile.

The mini-Donut looked up at the room and said with a voice that wasn’t even close, “I sure do like lasagna. I hate Mondays, Carl.” The cat resumed licking itself.

We were being used like pawns in a royal pissing match between a brother and sister, who in turn were being exploited by the whole system while the entire universe laughed their asses off at us all.

Donut: LONELY_YETI_15 SAYS I HAVE THE PRETTIEST FUR PATTERN SHE HAS EVER SEEN. SHE ALSO SAYS SHE’S GETTING A TATTOO OF ME ON HER LOWER THORAX. Carl: You’re supposed to be helping Katia sew. Donut: I DON’T HAVE THUMBS, CARL.

New Quest. The Gate of the Feral Gods. Henrik the Changeling. Commandant Kane. The Mad Dune Mage. They all have pieces of the artifact. Take it from them. Collect all three. Put them together. What happens next is pretty damn neat. Reward: Oh boy-oh-boy. Oh boy-oh-boy.

I HAVEN’T DECIDED ON CHARLIE OR IVY. WHAT DO YOU THINK, ZEV?

I get this reference and i love it

The front door opened, and a young, female gnome stood there, gazing at us. “Hello,” she said. She wore an oversized Dallas Cowboys jersey as a dress. She had brown pigtails peeking out from under her red, conical hat. The front of the jersey was smeared with blood. “Have you come to kill my father? You’re a little late. He’s already dead. Do you want to come in? I’m making lemonade!”

But most of all, she just wants to kill everybody. Especially bitches. And guess what you are? Tick Tock, motherfuckers.

The house sat at an angle along a sand dune. The interior looked how one might expect a house would after a boss fight with a murderous, indestructible goose.

You’re a good fighter, Carl. And you think fast. That’s why we’re still alive. You rarely think of the proper answer to a problem, but you usually come up with one that works anyway.”

Loita: I don’t care if you’re optimistic, crawler. Just do as you’re told. Donut: WELL YOU DON’T HAVE TO BE A JERK ABOUT IT. Loita: Do not talk back to me. You keep forgetting your place. Donut: I DON’T LIKE YOU, LOITA. YOU SMELL REALLY BAD. Loita: The feeling is mutual. And if you talk back again, I will have Mongo taken from you. We’ll use him to feed a mob on the next floor and we’ll make you watch. I can do that. Don’t test me.

Carl: Christ. Is the whole universe filled with assholes? Mordecai: Just the ones with the money.

That was the moment. Right then. I’d been toying around with an idea, but I’d dismissed it as too risky. Too soon. That was the moment I changed my mind.

“You won’t win,” she gasped, gurgling the words. Foamy, colorless liquid oozed from her mouth and gills. “The Bloom will prevail. You will be forgotten.” “Nobody likes melodrama, Loita,” I said as the kua-tin died.

I rarely say this to a straight man but SLAY

You’ll die in a gutter without me. You need me. You think you’re just going to be fine? What will you do, you disrespectful little shit? You will break after just one day. And then you’ll die. That’s what you’ll do. Just like your fucking bitch of a mother.

In other words, Ghazi was trying to summon a god in order to turn his waifu into the real deal.

I had multiple, passive, low-tier stealth movement abilities that never worked for shit because I traveled with a dinosaur and a talking cat, but I hoped it would help cover my passage now.

Carl: Donut. Chill. You’re sinking. There’s a mob coming. Donut: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

“Uh, Carl,” Katia said. “You dropped a head on the floor.”

his class was something called a Gut Rearranger, which was apparently a healer/rogue combo.

Tran turned to Vadim. “Do you own a red shirt? I feel as if I should put one on.”

He once got out of his cage at a CFA event and impregnated a Sphynx. Can you imagine? It’s the equivalent of royalty impregnating an uncooked chicken. It was quite the scandal.

Dying from the bends wasn’t nearly as entertaining as watching us get eaten by a shark.

And who’s the daddy of these precious little babies? Who knows? Lusca is a whore! Every Octo-Shark playa in the neighborhood knows she offers that sweet tentacle booty of hers to any bad boy who’ll drop something juicy onto her plate.

Warning: Your oxygen levels are low. Plus you’re just sitting there being all boring and shit.

Donut: I LIKED YOU BETTER WHEN YOU WOULDN’T LET ME GO INTO DANGER.

Low Thi: It’s chasing me! I have it distracted. Do it! Warning: This message is from a deceased crawler.

Bubble number 543 has been popped. All four stairwell locations are now open. See? That wasn’t so hard. All that whining and dying was a bit dramatic, don’t you think?

Carl: Hey, is that fire god dude still melting your world? Tserendolgor: JESUS CHRIST YES.

“Grab the stick,” I yelled as I clicked the gyroscope and jumped onto the wing. The plane started to shudder. “Grab the stick?” Donut shrieked. “What do you mean, grab the stick! Thumbs, Carl! Thumbs!”

you look like someone whose picture gets put on the news because he did something involving indecent exposure and a Wal-Mart.

Enchanted Handcuffs. My safe word is, “Harder, Daddy.” You know what these are. Your mom had a pair in her drawer, and your dad was probably no stranger to these things, either.

It is too beautiful, too real not to be a copy of someplace that truly existed, and it is difficult for my mind to make sense of it. For the first time, I don’t know where the real ends and the nightmare begins, and it has taken my breath away.