Bob didn’t think; he ran. The head of the sledgehammer slapped against his side with every stride, slowing him down, but he didn’t stop. He couldn't. Someone was out there. Someone was in trouble.
Kent was already ahead of him, axe in hand, charging down the road towards the campground like a man on fire.
Another scream split the forest. Shorter this time, strangled. Then silence.
Not peaceful silence.
Predator silence.
Bob’s stomach turned as they burst around the last of the trees and into the campground. Everything changed as it opened before him. He skidded to a stop, nearly stumbling at chaos exploding before him. A pure, surreal madness he could barely process.
System notifications flared in his vision, but he shoved them aside.
STRENGTH +1
VITALITY +1
NEW SKILL LEARNED: RUNNING (RANK 0)
WHY WALK WHEN YOU CAN RUN. WHY RUN WHEN YOU CAN SPRINT. +0.5% RUNNING SPEED INCREASE PER +10 DEXTERITY STAT. +0.5% RUNNING ENDURANCE PER +10 VITALITY STAT.
Everywhere Bob looked campers were fighting squirrels and chipmunks but these weren’t ordinary woodland creatures. Like the oversized deer they'd encountered earlier, these animals were grotesquely large. The chipmunks were the size of Labradors; the squirrels rivaled Great Danes.
A woman crouched with a cooler lid, shielding herself and a pair of children while her husband swung a camp chair at two snarling squirrels.
Near the center of the campground, a man wielded a frying pan like a baseball bat, desperately fending off a trio of chipmunks threatening his family.
Some people had taken refuge in their cars, but even that wasn’t safe as several vehicles had shattered windows, and Bob could see blood, fur, and frantic movement inside some of the vehicles. The animals had gotten in.
A squirrel clung to the roof of a minivan, its claws sparking as it raked across the metal. It shrieked; not a rodent squeak, but something deeper, crueler. Almost mocking. Inside, a woman pounded on the glass, screaming for help.
On Bob’s right near what he thought was a restroom building, a group of adults stood between a cluster of children and the advancing swarm. The rodents moved with eerie coordination, testing defenses, circling, closing in.
Without slowing, Kent veered toward the restrooms. He had always done what he could to help kids. The moment he saw them in danger, his decision was made.
The rest of the group reached Bob, voices overlapping, eyes wide with panic.
“What do we do?”
He stood frozen—mind blank, paralyzed by the chaos around him.
Bob opened his mouth, then closed it. What the hell was he supposed to say? He wasn’t trained for this. He wasn’t a soldier. He planned camping trips and game nights. But now everyone was staring at him like he had the answers.
For a few eternal seconds, nothing moved.
Then something inside him shifted—survival instinct, leadership, something deeper.
“Get people to the restroom!” he said, voice sharp with sudden clarity. “We’ll be safer together. We can defend one spot.”
George and Dave nodded and sprinted toward the man with the frying pan—he looked seconds away from being overwhelmed.
“Help Kent!” Bob shouted, pointing toward the cluster of children surrounded by desperate adults. “Go!”
Jill and Alice didn’t hesitate.
They broke off and sprinted after Kent, who had already reached the restroom building and was charging straight into the chaos. Jill gripped her axe tight, the rubber handle creaking in her hands. Alice dropped her pack mid-run, freeing both hands to wield her long kitchen knives.
“What’s the plan?” Alice shouted, her voice nearly drowned by the pounding in her ears.
Jill didn’t look at her. “Hit anything with fur that’s still moving.”
They rounded a pine and caught up just in time to see Kent swing his axe in a brutal arc, burying it in the spine of a monstrous chipmunk lunging at a young girl. The creature shrieked, convulsed, and crumpled to the ground.
Kent didn’t pause. He yanked the axe free and scanned for the next target.
There were more.
Two squirrels clung to the roof, claws hooked into the wood, hissing as they prepared to pounce. Another was dragging a man away from the group, its teeth buried deep in his calf as he screamed. A pair of chipmunks darted in and out, testing the circle of adults who fended them off with whatever they could; tent poles, folding chairs, broken branches.
Kent charged the squirrel on the man’s leg, swinging his axe in a wide, brutal arc. The blade struck with a wet crunch. Blood sprayed. The creature shrieked and rolled, twitching.
Kent stomped hard, his boot cracking bone. The squirrel spasmed once then went still.
“Get him inside!” he barked.
Two others grabbed the injured man under the arms and hauled him into the concrete restroom building.
Jill reached the children just as a chipmunk lunged, incisors flashing. Without thinking, she swung her axe like a bat, catching it square in the jaw ripping the lower half clean off. Before it hit the ground, Alice was already moving, her knives flashing in a double jab under its ribs. The rodent twitched violently, then went still.
LEVEL 1 SQUIRREL KILLED
EXPERIENCE GAINED
20 CREDITS EARNED
TITLE GAINED:
- FIRST CONTACT
- TRAILBLAZER
Jill blinked, overwhelmed by the messages. “Did… did I just level up?”
“No time to celebrate!” Alice snapped, slashing at another rodent. It dodged the first swipe—but not the second. Her knife came down in a sharp jab, pinning it just long enough for Kent to step in and cleave its skull in two.
“We need to clear the roof!” Kent shouted, glancing up. Two squirrels still clung to the overhang, coiled and ready to leap.
Jill pushed the System messages out of her vision. “I’ve got it,” She fumbled with her axe then decided on a different path. “Let’s hope this works.”
She reached into herself and activated her Class Skill: Ice Shard
A ripple of blue light flared from her fingertips as she aimed at one of the rooftop squirrels. Cold radiated outward sharp, immediate. An icicle-like projectile launched with a high-pitched hiss, striking the squirrel square in the chest. It screeched as frost spread across its fur and the surrounding roof, freezing it in place.
Jill stared at the frozen squirrel, stunned at what she had just done. A message appeared confirming that it had really happened.
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.
LEVEL 1 SQUIRREL KILLED
EXPERIENCE GAINED
40 CREDITS EARNED
The last squirrel jumped from the roof, landing between Jill and Alice with a heavy thud. It hissed low and guttural with wild eyes.
They braced for its attack but Kent was already there. He came in from behind and drove his axe down hard, burying it in the squirrel’s back and pinning it to the dirt. For a moment, silence.
The only sounds; panting, soft whimper of the children, and muffled moaning.
Then, a system message flashed across their vision:
LEVEL 1 SQUIRREL KILLED
EXPERIENCE GAINED
10 CREDITS EARNED
TITLE GAINED: DEFENDER
RECOGNITION FOR DEFENDING INNOCENTS IN EXTREME CIRCUMSTANCES. WILLPOWER +1, STRENGTH +1, DEXTERITY +1.
Jill stared at the blinking message. “Defender…?”
Kent, bent over still catching his breath, glanced over. “New Defender title?” Jill and Alice both nodded. “Me too. You guys earned it.”
Behind them, parents clutched their kids tightly. One woman whispered a thank-you, tears streaking silently down her cheeks.
Panting Alice turned to Kent. “Is that all of them?”
“For now,” he said, eyes scanning the tree line. “Get the children inside and guard the door.”
Jill nodded, still trembling. “Ok. I can also start helping with first aid if anyone needs it.”
Alice grabbed a fallen tent pole and walked over to the group of adults. She handed it to one of them and started checking to see who was injured.
Luckily there was only one major injury, the man with the bite in his calf. There were some minor scrapes and scratches. Jill found clothes on the ground and tore them into strips to make bandages.
While the girls were helping the people Kent turned back toward the trees, axe still firm in his grip.
Then another scream echoed across the campground.
Not from the restrooms.
Farther south.
Another battle was still raging.
Kent’s heart slammed in his chest. He turned toward the sound.
***
Bob turned to Tami and Blake, who stood frozen, watching Jill and Alice sprint toward the restrooms. “Let’s help where we can.” He pointed toward a car on their left at the edge of the campground. People were inside while a massive squirrel was clawing furiously at the windshield.
They took off running. But it was already too late to save everyone.
They passed a van with a shattered front window. Inside were bodies lifeless, mutilated, soaked in blood, their skin torn by deep gouges only massive rodent claws could make.
Tami faltered, her face pale with horror. Bob grabbed her arm and pulled her forward. No time to freeze. Not when lives still hung in the balance.
They were twenty feet from the car when the squirrel stopped. Its claws froze mid-scrape. Its head jerked toward them in a twitchy, unnatural motion, like a puppet yanked by invisible strings. Its beady black eyes locked onto Bob’s, glassy and hateful.
A low, guttural chirp rumbled from its throat less squeak, more growl. Then it launched from the hood. Claws scraped metal in a shrieking rasp.
“Back!” Bob shouted, raising the sledgehammer.
It moved too fast. It was a blur of fur and muscle, streaking low like a shadow with mass. Bob swung. The hammer hissed through empty air, the momentum yanking him sideways.
“Oh crap!”
He stumbled.
The squirrel didn’t.
One moment it crouched low then it was on him. A blur of speed. Crushing weight. A burst of pain.
Pain exploded through him and a System message flashed across his vision.
DAMAGE RECEIVED
HEALTH -15
Bob screamed. But he slammed the butt of the hammer down, once, twice. Finally striking something solid. The squirrel shrieked but didn’t let go. Its teeth kept sawing through muscle and tendon. Hot blood sprayed in pulsing arcs, coating fur and dirt alike.
DAMAGE RECEIVED
HEALTH -25
DEBUFF APPLIED:
BLEEDING
INFECTION
System alerts flared across his vision, but they blurred into the haze of agony. The world narrowed to just pain, searing and animal. Just the squirrel latched to his leg, tearing.
He roared and brought the butt of the hammer down again with all his might, this time catching its spine. With a sharp crack and a wet crunch the creature flew sideways, twitching.
It was not dead. It writhed, then sprang back up, fur matted with Bob’s blood. It crouched, low and taut, coiled to lunge again.
Then Blake was there. “No you don’t—!” He tackled it mid-motion, driving his kitchen knife down hard. Once. Twice. The rodent spasmed beneath him, limbs kicking, then went still—limp, the blade embedded in its chest.
Its eyes didn’t close. They just stared—black glass marbles filled with hate.
A System message blinked into Bob’s vision:
LEVEL 1 SQUIRREL KILLED
EXPERIENCE GAINED
10 CREDITS EARNED
TITLE GAINED:
- FIRST CONTACT
- TRAILBLAZER
“Holy crap,” Blake muttered, panting. He looked down at his blood covered hands. “I got a message… says I killed a Level 1 Squirrel.”
Bob stared at the flickering system text, barely comprehending it. The words didn’t feel real. They belonged to someone else, a version of him from a video game or a nightmare.
He blinked. The world felt distant. His mind hazy.
The titles were triumphant, celebratory even. But his leg throbbed with each heartbeat. Blood soaked into the dirt beneath him. And the squirrel’s body lay only feet away broken, twitching, its black eyes still open, frozen in an expression of pure, silent fury.
It had him. Bob could still feel that hate in the lifeless black eyes.
Bob’s hands trembled as he looked down. Blood slicked his fingers. Dirt clung to his nails where he'd gripped the ground. His palms were sticky, his arms numb. The sledgehammer felt like a phantom limb—absent, but still heavy and useless.
Then Tami appeared beside him. Her eyes were wide. Afraid.
“Oh God—Bob! Hold still.”
His head swayed. The world tilted. Everything felt light and far away.
Tami dropped to her knees, tearing her shirt to make a bandage. She wrapped his leg quickly, fingers working fast but shaking. The cloth turned red almost instantly.
Bob tried to say something, but only a grunt escaped. Then he saw it. Something new, something impossible.
Tami’s hands began to glow.
A soft, golden light bloomed from her palms, warm and impossible. Dim at first, then stronger, brighter, as she pressed her hands to Bob’s wound. Warmth spread through his leg. The pain didn’t disappear, but it dulled. The bleeding slowed. His thoughts began to sharpen, the fog shrouding his mind receding.
Bob stared at her glowing hands. At the light knitting his skin back together. For a long moment, he could only breathe.
His shock was broken by the message appearing in his vision.
YOU HAVE BEEN HEALED BY MINOR MEND.
- DEBUFF REMOVED
- BLEEDING
- INFECTION
- BLEEDING
Bob exhaled a ragged breath. “That...” He took a steading breath. “You healed me. Like healing magic healed me.”
Tami blinked as the glow faded from her hands. “I didn’t know it would,” she said quietly. “I picked the Cleric class and took Minor Mend... back in the void. I didn’t think it would actually anything.”
Bob reached up and placed a blood-slicked hand gently over hers. “It did. It helped. I’m alive because of you.”
She looked down at their hands, then back at him. “You still don’t look okay. It wasn’t enough.”
“I’m not,” he admitted.
They sat in silence, the chaos around them muted by the gravity of what had just happened.
Then Blake broke it. “I almost didn’t move. I froze.” His voice was flat, a distant look in his eyes. “But then I saw Bob, and I just… went.” He looked down at his hands, still clenched around the knife. “I think I stabbed that thing six times. It just… kept moving.”
He looked up, but not at them. Past them. Through them. His knuckles were white around the hilt of the blade.
“It was fast,” he muttered. “And strong. Just a squirrel, but it almost… if you hadn’t hit it when you did…” His words trailing off to a whisper.
“I missed,” Bob said. “The first time, I missed.”
“You knocked it off you.” Blake finally meeting Bob’s eyes. “I don’t think I would’ve moved if you hadn’t kept fighting. That matters to me.”
The three of them sat there silent, bloodstained, stunned. A brief island of stillness in the middle of madness.
Tami’s lip trembled. “I didn’t even think to fight. I just… froze.”
Bob turned to her. “You saved me. You me. That’s more than I did for myself.”
Tami’s eyes dropped to her bloodstained hands. “I don’t want to fight things,” she whispered. “I didn’t sign up for this. I just wanted to go camping. Now there’s giant squirrels, and quests, and monsters. I can’t even cry without feeling like I’m wasting time.”
Tears welled and finally spilled down her cheeks.
Bob reached forward and pulled her into a hug. She didn’t resist. She folded into him, trembling.
“I don’t know what’s happening either,” he murmured. “But we’ll figure it out. One step at a time.”
She nodded against his chest. After a few seconds, she pulled back, wiping her face with the back of her hand smearing his blood across her cheek without noticing.
“I think I can use Minor Mend again,” she said softly, reaching toward his leg.
Bob stopped her, his hand light but firm. “I’ll be okay for now. That family needs you more.” His voice was raw, but steadier. “Some of them looked hurt. Use it on them. If you’ve still got anything left… help me after.”
Blake looked over to the family they had come to help at Bob’s words and got up heading over waving to them to get out of the car. A woman opened the door and clutched a young boy to her chest. A man limped around the car then came and stood beside her, face pale, blood staining one pant leg. A girl, maybe ten, trailed just behind them, eyes wide, staring but unseeing.
Bob forced himself to stand, using the sledgehammer as a crutch. Pain shot through his leg the moment he put weight on it but it held. Barely.
Somewhere in the distance, another scream cut through the air. Someone else, still alive. Still in danger.
He took a long breath, steadying himself.
Then he limped forward, greeting the family they had just helped. The scattered debris of the chaos around them. Smoke curled from a tent that had caught fire. One of the campers sobbed, broken and inconsolable. Blake was helping the mother lift her youngest child from the car, while Tami knelt beside the bleeding man, her hands glowing again with the golden light.
The pain in Bob’s leg flared, but he gritted his teeth and pushed it down. There wasn’t time for him to deal with it.
He glanced toward the restroom building just as Kent emerged from behind a tree, axe still wet with blood. Jill and Alice followed, guiding a group of wide-eyed kids and shaken adults towards the doors of the restroom. The area around them looked clearer now, less commotion, less panic.
Bob exhaled. A small knot of tension loosened in his chest. That part of the fight was under control. But they weren’t done yet. Not even close.
From the direction of the ranger’s cabin, a new snarl rang out, low and angry.
Bob turned toward it, tightening his grip on the sledgehammer. He didn’t see anything but knew this fight wasn’t done. There were still people to save.