21st Century Orc Read online

  Still, anything was better than treating Gore like some wylder beast waiting to be put down.

  “Ha. Ha. Ha. But no. I’m no good walking, much less dancing,” laughed Gore. Put the orc in a car on the other hand… Gore shook her head. She needed to get her brother’s stupid idea out of her head.

  “Ah… you sure? Please? Pretty please?” asked Debbie, kneeling before Gore and pressing her hands together in a mock prayer as her big brown eyes swelled up.

  Gore gulped, rubbing her palms together, her resolve wavering. What would it be like to be part of something more than herself again?

  Then Gore shook her head.

  “No.” Besides too many people were trying to recruit Gore anyway.

  “Ugh.” Debbie leapt back onto her feet and spun around, saying, “I’ll just have the win the dance contest by myself. With the rest of my stupid team.”

  “Good luck with that. And thanks for saving my considerable ass, but I’m gonna have to go,” murmured Gore, jerking her head to one of the far parapets jutting out of the other side of the castle. She readjusted her backpack and started walking. Hopefully, the old professor wouldn’t be too mad. “I got an actual job to attend to.”

  But before Gore could manage more than a foot, Debbie cried out, “Oh wait! There’s something else I wanted to ask you. The girls are gonna go to a party tonight, you wanna go? It’s off-campus. The place is by Spiral Shark beach. Someplace called Roomenya.”

  “It isn’t that awful frat, Ooze Maw Krappa, is it?” asked Gore as she continued walking. Though the name tugged at the edge of Gore’s memory. Where had she heard Roomenya before?

  “It’s Ooze Maw Kappa. Come on… they’re nice boys. Maybe I could find you a date for once?”

  Gore raised an eyebrow and demanded, “You think some elvish fob is gonna find this attractive?”

  She gestured to her stained clothes.

  Debbie blushed. “I— erm… actually, was thinking more like a nice dwarf or halfling.”

  “And somehow I wouldn’t squash them.”

  “Well… some of us get pretty tall. Remember Ying Miao?”

  “Hehehe. I appreciate the effort, Debbie. I really do. But I’m too busy. I got other things to do than boys. My job. My magic fair project. And you know, actual college stuff.”

  Debbie fell behind as Gore crossed over one of the many little bridges connecting the countless towers. The dwarf said, “Just don’t burn out, okay?”

  “Don’t worry. My engine runs hot,” muttered Gore, trudging through the twisting corridors to her Professor’s lab.

  She took a deep breath before pushing through the thick door and revealing a shining mess that would make a dragon green with envy. Countless silver machines worked and whirled, clicked and clattered, gears turning as glint-power coursed through the floors. Sparks flew through the air and cascaded down on Gore, bouncing off her tough orc skin. Tools lined the walls, labelled and arranged with absolute precision. Any machine ever made, no matter obscure or specific— if Gore couldn’t find it in Professor Potter’s lab, then it didn’t exist. Truly a mechanic’s paradise.

  Gore smiled, hands itching to get to work.

  And at the center of it all sat a small dwarf, welding something with his two organic hands while a dozen mechanical tendrils blurred around him. Without looking, just wiping something on his blue beard, the dwarf barked, “Gore. You are late. That will be deducted from your pay. Not like you need it anyway with your government welfare checks… Now get to work. I need you to run the Hespherstarius Capacitor.”

  “Yes, Professor Potter,” chimed Gore as she dropped her backpack into a locked case and got to work.

  If she just had the money to get out of this rotting job and use the lab without Professor Potter, Gore mused, her mind wandering back to Bones’s offer.

  No. Gore shook her head and continued around the lab.

  She stopped, however, at her work station, pausing for a moment to examine the small device sitting on a scorched desk. A small device that would revolutionize everything. But more importantly, the device would change her life. If she managed to get it working in a month, in time for the magic fair.

  “Well, I am waiting! Turn on the Hespherstarius Capacitor—I thought when the admins made me hire an orc, they’d send me their best! Be grateful you’re even in here!” barked Professor Potter. “Come on, show me what you got! Now!”

  Sighing and running to the machine right beneath the Professor, running her hands over the elchite, thumbing the buttons with practiced precision, Gore tried to lose herself in her work, tried to shut out the people and whisperings of society, tried to lose herself in the perfect sound and motion of the machines.

  Gore liked machines.

  Machines were better than people. They didn’t show up out of the blue and ask Gore for help. They didn’t harass Gore just for being an orc. They didn’t try to pressure Gore into being someone else. They just executed their orders with absolute precision and then went still.

  And best of all, machines didn’t talk back.

  “Hey you!” called out an unfortunately familiar voice from the shadows as Gore stumbled out of the lab and into the shadowed halls of the castle. “Greenskin!”

  Squeezing her eyes tight, trying to block out the screech, Gore sighed and ignored the voice, marching to her class. She didn’t have the time, energy or desire to deal with the elvish girls’ crap.

  “Jagd off,” called Gore, turning into another hallway in a half-hearted attempt to avoid the elves.

  “What did you say to me?”

  “Huh, looks like those pointed ears do something after all,” Gore muttered to herself as she ran out onto the battlements of the castle. Looking about, she caught sight of her classroom two stories below her. If she could just make the jump… and hopefully not squash someone on the way down. She hesitated for a split second, gauging the distance and whether or not the contents in her bag would withstand the impact.

  A split second too long. The battlements rose up and twisted into sharp spears, pointed right at Gore.

  Sighing and cracking her neck, Gore turned around to see the elvish bimbo walk around the corner. Dressed in her perfect little outfit and accompanied by her perfect little posse of elves. All beautiful to a hateful degree.

  “Tawny,” growled Gore, crossing her arms and planting her feet firm on the ground.

  “Gore,” crooned the head elf, her wand pointed at Gore as she walked forward, stopping just outside of Gore’s reach.

  Good for her.

  Bitch, Gore thought, watching the fire curl around Tawny’s wand. She gulped, almost backing away from the elf before sheer spite overcame any fear. A magic bitch, unfortunately.

  “To what do I owe the dubious pleasure?” asked Gore, edging around Tawny towards the entrance.

  “Oh, I was just out on a stroll with my gals planning our next goblin orphan fundraiser. Just enjoying the sunshine and rainbows and unicorns. But then you showed up,” said Tawny as she flipped her gold and silver hair and laughed. The rest of her posse laughed as though Tawny had made the greatest joke in the world. Tawny puffed up at the sound.

  “I am truly sorry for existing in a world with you in it,” deadpanned Gore, eye twitching as her breath turned ragged. Her blood bubbled within her once more. This day was just getting better and better.

  “Heh. It tried sarcasm,” laughed Tawny.

  “What do you want?” demanded Gore again, struggling to keep her voice from turning into a roar. Her claws curled into fists.

  “Oh no. This isn’t about what I want. We live in a democracy after all. This is about what the people want. And the people have heard some disturbing rumors lately, one pertaining to your entry to this year’s magic fair. Now, I’m all for orc redemption initiatives, but others are less so. They’re a little off put by how … relentless you are.” Wobbling her hand in front of her to mime a rocking boat, Tawny smiled and exposed several canines. She glanced at her friends,
then back at Gore. “So it’d be best for everyone if you just went away.”

  Gore’s anger slipped out of her claws as she snorted. Such a petty little bitch. Gore matched Tawny’s smile and said, “I think it’d be best for everyone if you hurled yourself off these battlements right now. But we can’t have everything we want, can we?”

  Fingering her wand, lips twisting as she glanced at her crowd, her friends cheering her on, Tawny rolled her eyes and hissed, “I am trying to have a serious conversation with you.”

  “What? So am I,” cackled Gore, sparks of joy blossoming in her stomach at the sight of Tawny grasping for new ways to attack Gore, “And I’m failing. Sorry. Wait, not sorry. I’m tired of these high-school level politics, Tawny, how about—”

  “No wonder your pathetic race lost in the war,” said Tawny, snapping her fingers and causing her posse to fan out from behind her, cutting off any escape for Gore. “Too dumb to realize when they should just keel over and beg like the drakes they are. Can’t you just be happy for once? Stay quiet, keep your head down and work your way up like the rest of us?”

  Gore’s turn to roll her eyes.

  “I don’t have time for your mastodonshit,” growled Gore as the elves surrounded her. Fireballs flickered to life around their wands, though fear flickered in their eyes. But none could back down while their friends pressed forward. Fine. Gore would fight them all. They were all the same anyway. “Move. Or you will be moved.”

  “And what? What are you gonna do?” asked Tawny, pointing her wand at Gore. Tendrils of fire spun out of the wand. “You don’t have any magic. You don’t have any money. You have nothing. All you are is a big, fat, walking shit.”

  “Careful. You kiss your mother with that mouth?” asked Gore, lips curling in disdain.

  “At least I have a mother,” spat Tawny.

  The world fell silent for a single heartbeat.

  Eyes flaring, blood pounding against her skull as her fists shook, striding forward towards the elf as reason fled from her mind, Gore said, “I told you that in a moment of weakness. Don’t you dare say another word…”

  The other elves glanced at each other and began backing away from Gore.

  But Tawny, after a moment of flickering fear, just pressed on the attack and snarled, “Oh boo hoo. Another Greenskin died. You expect me to cry? I think your mother should be glad that she died before she could—”

  Everything went red.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Inciting Incident

  “Gods… why did you have to go berserk again?” demanded the Dean, running fingers through black curls that did not so much as sprout from his head but instead clung to his scalp like poison-kelp. “Why? Even if she had goaded you on… You almost killed them.”

  “I didn’t hurt them that badly,” retorted Gore though she shifted in her chair, black eyes shifting away from the Dean’s crimson glare.

  Gore sat opposite of the dean in a cramped office filled with dust and shadows and books. A large oaken desk separated the student and teacher. Atop the desk sat several skulls of extinct animals along with several mountains of papers teetering on the edge of collapse. In the center of the mess stood a small plaque, which read the Dean’s name: Albert Acula.

  “Yeah. And how am I gonna explain that to her parents? To the press? To the board?” asked the Dean, holding his ice-white hands in front of him and miming, “Oh hey… so one of my students just broke your daughter’s forearm and several ribs. So sorry but this is actually your daughter’s fault. Not the freaking berserk orc who beat all her friends to a pulp! ‘K thanks. Bye!”

  Squeezing her eyes shut as she rubbed her hands together, Gore said, “She goaded me. She used her friendship with me from last year to get inside my head. To steal my secrets once I let my guard down. Then used them against me.”

  She hated herself for letting anyone close like Tawny. Never again.

  The Dean remained silent for a minute, just tapping the desk with his fingers. Then he growled, “That doesn’t matter.”

  “What?” asked Gore, at last meeting the Dean’s eyes.

  “I know what you’re thinking. ‘How could it not matter that Tawny Greenleaf was such a bitch?’ But… and here’s the real important thing. You can’t prove to anyone that making you lash out was her plan. You can’t prove that this was more than just a incident of harmless bullying-”

  “Harmless,” Gore scoffed.

  The Dean frowned and then nodded, “Unfortunately, we can only see the results of this incident, which are over a dozen injuries and too many complaints for the school to deal with at the moment.”

  “I can prove it,” said Gore, leaning forward. “Just give me time.”

  “Time is too valuable here. And we don’t have any time to do a thorough investigation into this incident’s deeper causes before the lawsuits start coming in.” The Dean sighed and bit his lip. He paused. Gore held her breath and waited for his response, her heart leaping out of her chest. “So… I’m going to have to hurt you.”

  Gore’s heart stopped.

  “Oh no… please. Anything but expulsion. Please! I need to finish my major and few other colleges will accept an orc, much less an orc with an expulsion. Come on! I can control myself! Just! Give! Me! One! Chance!” Gore leapt forward and slammed her fists against the Dean’s desk. The skulls jumped in response, flying into the air. “Oh. Oops…”

  The Dean sighed and got up from his chair. His hands blurred into motion faster than Gore could even blink. When she did finish blinking, the skulls stared back at her with chiding scowls.

  Gore gulped, turning her gaze up to the Dean, who had settled back into his chair and began scratching his arm.

  “Please…” gasped Gore.

  “You know I like you, Missy,” said the Dean, keeping his eyes focused on his arm, on a dark vein. “I like your spirit. I like the fact that you managed to get into this damned college. I like the fact that you haven’t let it break you yet. Plus the board and those pesky orc rights groups would have a fit if I actually expelled you. But I need to assuage the parents. I need to show them that the school has zero-tolerance to any physical violence. So please hear me out. And… sit down.”

  Gore did so, uncurling her fists. Her claws came away bloody.

  She waited.

  The Dean sighed and rubbed his temples. Then at last, he said, “I’m gonna have to place you on academic suspension. That means you will not be allowed to finish your courses for this quarter and will have to wait till next quarter to apply for new courses.”

  Not too bad, Gore tapped her chin and then started to speak.

  But, his frown deepening, the Dean raised a finger and said, “And it means you won’t be able to work in Professor Potter’s lab for the time being.”

  “Blight,” cursed Gore, her entire body cold as she realized the truth. “No! You can’t do that. I need that job! I need to pay rent—the protection fees, and use his lab for my project! No!”

  Gore cursed herself. She cursed her world. She cursed her brother for coming into her life and bringing bad luck with him. She cursed the cop for his racism. She cursed Tawny for goading her into attacking. But most of all she cursed herself.

  She slumped into the chair, all the steel in her spine melted.

  “Gore, I know how you feel. Please, understand me when I say that. I am trying to help you. This isn’t the end. You can take online courses from other universities to keep up your academic status. You just need to survive for two months.”

  “No…” gasped Gore. “You don’t understand. None of you understand what it’s like to live in the Narrows. If I miss my rent…”

  The Warboyz would come to collect.

  “I’m sorry, Gore, but there’s nothing else I can do,” said the Dean. Gore looked him in the eyes and struggled not to spit. The Dean had the eyes of everyone who cared but didn’t do a damn thing when Gore needed them. “Give me a few weeks and maybe…”

  “A few weeks wo
n’t matter if I can’t pay my rent.”

  They both fell silent for a long time. Each looking away from each other. Shoving her hands into her pockets, Gore looked within, trying to dig up a way to survive. If she only had the money… Gore blinked as metal touched her claws.

  She pulled out her car keys into the dim light. The flower glinted in the dying sunlight, furious iron cold against Gore’s fingers. Somewhere in the distance, the Magnum Orcus roared. The only thing that had never let her down. Her mind turned back to Bones and his idiotic scheme. She gulped. She didn’t have many other options.

  Besides, she couldn’t just wait on her ass expecting someone else to save her. That only happened in stories. And to anyone other than an orc.

  “You should do martial arts,” said the Dean, breaking the silence and Gore’s thoughts. “Perhaps a traditional Dwarven one like Kar-kata.”

  “What?” asked Gore, blinking and shoving her car keys back into her pocket before shaking her head and snarling, “I can take care of myself.”

  Beside, what could martial arts do against guns?

  “I know. But what about everyone else?” The Dean rubbed his temples once more. “You have so much potential and yet… You lack discipline. You allow your emotions to rule your mind. You need to be better. You need to force yourself to rise above petty insults and focus on your future.”

  Gore needed to focus on not being an orc.

  She scoffed and then asked, “Is that all, Dean Acula?”

  Raising an eyebrow, as if Gore just slapped him, the Dean looked her right in the eye. For a split second, Gore wonder if he knew what she planned to do, if he could look into her soul. She scoffed again. Elves couldn’t understand orcs.

  “You aren’t planning anything stupid are you?” asked the Dean as Gore rose to her feet and shouldered her backpack. “Gore, promise me. Promise me that you’ll at least try to be safe.”

  Crossing her fingers behind her back, Gore nodded.

  The Dean frowned and searched Gore’s face for a split second felt like an entire year. Then he said, “Very well. I’ll send you an scrying message about any updates. Otherwise, you’re not to attend any classes on campus. That clear?”