The Tales of the Legendary Mimic : Momo

god or monster I

The storm raged outside, wind howling like a banshee as the team huddled together in the dimly lit warehouse of the abandoned paper factory. The kid who had brought them there had already left, refusing to stay the night. Max couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. The way the boy stammered his excuses and hurried off—as if granted amnesty—only made it clearer. Under Max’s gaze, the kid’s innocent façade had cracked.

The scene shifted to the boy’s point of view.

He ran through the muddy street, the wind clawing at his rags. When he reached the spot where he’d first met Max and the rest, it was almost deserted now; everyone had gone indoors to prepare for the storm.

He was just about to head home when a door creaked open to his left.

“Follow me,” a man in a patched cloak hissed, grabbing him by the wrist and dragging him inside.

The room he was pulled into was crammed with wretched people—some wrapped in filthy cloaks, others in what had once been normal clothes, now stained and torn. Among them were the same men who had tried to attack Max’s group earlier.

An old man sat at the center, a cracked staff stabbed into the ground before him. His eyes gleamed with a mad light.

“Heheh… Henry is back, eh?” the old man croaked.

“Yes, Priest,” the cloaked man replied.

“So…” The priest leaned forward, lips curling in a twisted smile. “How are our guests fitting in?”

“They… y‑y… they are settled in, Priest.”

“That’s good. Commence the ritual. Ehehehe… God Shan can’t be left to hunger much longer. What about the one‑eyed maniac…?”

“He escaped to the woods after incurring God Shan’s anger. We bet he won’t return.”

“Very well. Burn the soul films and awaken God Shan.”

At his command, strange blue coals were tossed into the fireplace. They hissed as they landed, and thick, dark smoke rose in a slow, spiraling column. It bled into the ceiling, then seeped upward—through cracks, broken tiles, and rotten beams—until it reached the roof of the old paper factory.

There, clinging upside down to the rafters, a cloaked shadow hung motionless.

A pair of violet eyes snapped open at once, announcing doom.

Back in the warehouse, Max and the crew had already checked every corner. They found it surprisingly safe—clean of beasts, no visible traps, no signs of other survivors.

Or so they thought.

They settled in, each person claiming a spot in the wide, echoing hall. Rain thudded against the rusted roof. The wind cried through broken windows.

They were starting to relax. Max found it an opportune moment to ease his bowels.

"Be right back, Nature's call."

"Your call, young master Max."Lorne yawned as Max gave a thumbs-up

"You still call him that..?" Sarah scrutinized, a bit confused

Shaking his shoulkders lackadaisicaly lorne said, "Old habits, hardly die soon."

hmm. Everyone could relate.

"You know I used work as a cashier before I joined the military, at that time I faced a lot of sassy customers, but my boss was good, so I learnt to tolerate .anyway, i had still call him boss kun anyday i see him...is that thesame?"

"yeah you bet, "Henrik added sarcastically. 

sarah fronwed her hands tightened on the magazine she was reading 

"Of course, it's very alike. Magnus was just that good." Lorne's voice had good timing, calming Sarah and making her smile. Henrik smirked at her, so she hopped on him and started smashing his head with the magazine while yelling 'doofus until they both lost it and paley rough eventually tired out. Henrik gave in, and Sarah walked away triumphant.

"You guys can nap, I will be on the lookout," Jane said, her eyes struggling to stay half open.

"No need captain, Henrik would handle that right," Sarah said with a threatening look towards Henrik.

Don't defy me, Nap," she ordered with the aura of a leading soldier.

"Yes captain. " Jane said, putting down her body bag and checking Sir Garfield if she slept well. 

Lorne stood up as well. He and Jane locked gaze, which Lorne broke with a smile, while Captain Jane shook her head with a self-deprecating smile. It was obvious that Lorne also wanted to lookout and from the still quivering and out-of-rhythm breathing, Sarah and Henrik were faking their sleep.

"It's fine...you aren't alone in this, let's help be," Lorne said, switching on his torch.

 They both patrolled the perimeters before heading back into the warehouse. They spotted Max's figure, but they weren'tgoing to bother the fellow,w so they went inside to meet both soldiers fast asleep for real this time.

Around that time, Lorne flinched. A gust of cold wind rushed past his neck. For a heartbeat, he saw a long, thin shadow skitter behind him—but when he whipped around, there was nothing there.

“Probably just the storm…” he muttered, though his skin crawled.

On the far side, Garfield snored loudly before going back to normal and breathing steadily. Captain Jane feared she heard whispers similar to a scratching and faint rustling high above, nothing like the snore from earlier.

Thinking Max finally returned to play tricks, she said

“Max, if this is you playing around, it’s not funny,”  voice low but tense.

No answer.

"maybe its henrik, he does that often," Lorne said, looking around, hoping to spot him as his body sleeping bag was empty.....and so was Sarah...

"sarah wouldnt play such, plus everyone is already tired for the day, there was enough kidnapping and trappping especially Henrik."Lorne thought as he watched Jane heading out to check if they were outside

At this moment, something moved in the darkness overhead.

Two glowing pupils hovered behind Lorne as he turned around stiffly. The owner of the eye grabbed him before he could pull out his baton.

dragged upward into the shadows, wrapped in silk as thin as smoke and strong as steel. A web spread across the upper beams of the warehouse, invisible in the dark.

Right before Jane reached the door, she heard a soft sound of something dropping behind her, prompting her to turn around.

She found herself face‑to‑face with the nightmare.

The creature stepped out from the shadows, its form slowly revealed by a distant flash of lightning.

It was over three meters tall.

A grotesque fusion of bat and spider: thin, leathery bat wings folded tight against a bloated, segmented abdomen; eight spindly spider legs, jointed wrong, scraping against the concrete with a dry, chitinous click. Its skin was a sickly grey, veins pulsing faintly with violet light beneath the surface.

Its head was almost human, but horribly wrong—its jaw stretched too wide, teeth needle‑thin and endless. Four eyes stared at Jane: two large, violet orbs that glowed with predatory hunger, and two smaller ones perched above, unblinking and cold, constantly scanning. Patches of stringy, black hair clung to its scalp like mold.

Thick strands of webbing dripped from its fanged mouth and clawed fingers, hissing when they touched the damp floor.

Jane’s breath hitched. She stumbled backward, step by step, until her heel caught the threshold and she backed right out of the warehouse. The creature followed, matching her pace perfectly, never breaking eye contact.

The storm raged behind it, turning its silhouette into a living shadow.

While all this unfolded, Max was outside behind the warehouse, easing his bowels in the cover of some bushes.

A section of the bush suddenly shuddered.

“Shit— is this bush alive?” Max yelped, zipping up in a panic and hopping back like a wet cat.

“Fvck, man! I’ve got piss in my mouth, you svker!” a man roared, rolling out of the foliage and spitting furiously.

Max stared. The stranger was covered in leaves and mud, his clothes torn, his face worn—but the most striking feature was the bandage over one eye.

The man wiped his face, gagging. Max still clutched his pants like a maiden caught naked in the bath.

“Let me tell you something,” the man growled, then squinted. “One doesn’t just piss— Wait. You… you’re that hero kid…”

“You know me?” Max asked, confused. “Could it be…?”

“It’s One‑Eye,” the man said quickly. “I apologize—we got off on the wrong foot in the past. But then you pissed on me just now, so we’re even.” He coughed, then grabbed Max’s arm. “Can you take me to the captain? I have a discovery to share.”

“Why would I?” Max frowned and started to pull away.

One‑Eye suddenly leaned closer and sniffed him like a crazed dog.

“No… It can’t be…” His expression twisted in horror. “Cas Cement… That smell… It can’t be that you’ve been to that warehouse.”

“Huh? What do you mean? The whole team is spending the night there.”

“Oh, no. No, no, no.” One‑Eye lurched to his feet. “We have to go now.”

“Why?” Max still wasn’t ready to trust this old jerkface.

“Because that place houses a god. A monster,” One‑Eye hissed. “If we don’t go now, those pagans will release the smoke and awaken their god to feast.”

“Fvk… WHAT?!” Max felt his worldview crack, cold dread spreading through his chest as the storm roared on.