8 Ball's Judgment

*8 Ball's Judgment*

*A short story based on a Discord RP.*

*Cross-posted on the Authors' Academy Wiki.*

*Written March 17, 2022.*

*Special thanks to Fantasy and Eirian in Branches of Yggdrasil.*

“Should I eat a cookie?” Leif inquired, shaking the eight ball.

***Ask again later,*** came the reply.

“Cookie?” Leif asked again as he shook the eight ball once more.

***As I see it, yes,*** the eight ball answered.

“I’m gonna get diabetes,” Leif said to himself, eyeing the crumbs on his desk, the sole remnants of the four cookies he’d already had.

“Are they gonna get diabetes?” Fantasy asked the eight ball as she shook the eight ball.

***Ask again later,*** the eight ball replied.

“Diabetes?” Fantasy asked again.

***Concentrate and ask again,*** the eight ball said.

“Hope this info helps,” Fantasy said to Leif, turning to look at him. When she did, she found they had been teleported into another dimension. To be exact? They were in the dimension belonging to the one named 8 Ball.

Just where Leif wanted to be.

“Very insightful,” he said, his eyes darting around the dimly lit room until they finally rested on a quivering eight ball with legs seated at a table. A light hung from the ceiling, swinging slowly above the table, caught in an unheard and unfelt breeze.

Leif sat at the table and clasped his hands in front of him. He lowered his sunglasses, his eyes boring into 8 Ball’s blank, faceless form.

“Now, Mr. 8 Ball,” he said, “will you tell me what I need to know, or will I have to use my…methods?”

He picked up the briefcase that lay beside him and opened it, revealing a water gun. Only it wasn’t a water gun. Not at all. It had never once shot water.

It shot bees.

A great sense of unease radiated from 8 Ball, and Leif laughed.

“Good, good,” he said. “I’m glad we understand each other. Now! About my question.”

He leaned closer and repeated Fantasy’s question from earlier. “Diabetes?”

“Concentrate and ask again,” 8 Ball said in a robotic voice that trembled more than any voice ever had.

Leif adjusted his tie, only he didn’t have a tie, so it was instead his…broken chest armor? He should get that fixed.

“Well, well,” he said. “Withholding information, are we? Heh…”

He picked up the bee gun. “You leave me no choice, then.”

8 Ball shook as fear seized his body.

Leif cocked the bee gun.

“Sweet dreams, my good man.”

Bees filled the room in a monstrous cloud, buzzing like the insectoid legions of hell, and 8 Ball didn’t have a moment to scream. He was gone.

“Farewell, 8 Ball,” Fantasy said. “It was nice knowing you.”

“It was nice knowing you too,” a robotic voice said.

The bees swarmed to the edges of the room, buzzing in the shadows, and as a few zipped through the light cast by the swinging ceiling lamp, 8 Ball emerged from the chair he’d been sitting in before.

“Impossible,” Leif said, recoiling in horrified disbelief. “He lives?”

“Indeed,” 8 Ball said as Fantasy looked on in shock. “I live.”

“Impossible!” Leif said, raising the bee gun. “No one can deflect the Bee Splash!”

“I can,” 8 Ball said.

“But no one is immune to the Bees,” Fantasy said.

“You underestimate my po-” 8 Ball stopped when he realized the bees were still there. Watching. Waiting. Buzzing.

“Only the Keepers are immune, right?” Fantasy said.

“Ah, yes,” Leif said. “The Keepers of the Bees, seven people sworn to protect the Legendary Golden Bees of Beesgard in the name of Brodin.”

“And how do you know I am not one of them?” 8 Ball said.

“Because you’re not,” Leif said.

“Well,” 8 Ball said as sweat streamed down his faceless round body, “you don’t know that!”

“Oh, but I do,” Leif said. “I have seen them.”

He produced a jar from one of the containers on his belt. “And with that, I bid you farewell!”

“NO!” 8 Ball screamed as he was sealed into the jar.

“There,” Leif said as he returned the jar to its container, silencing 8 Ball’s muffled shrieks. “Now that that’s settled, I should put away the bees.”

He watched them buzz around the room and added, “How should I do that?”

“Mayhaps in the Hive?” Fantasy said.

“Ah!” Leif said. “The Hive.”

He conjured the Hive, a magnificent palace rumbling with bees, so small it fit in the palm of his hand, but only because of the First Keeper's magic spell. Without that spell, the Hive would have been gigantic beyond imagination and unreachable by most beings.

The bees flocked to the Hive, vanishing inside it, and the Hive disappeared, taking the buzzing with it. In its wake, a piece of paper fell onto the floor.

“Hm?” Leif said. “What’s this?”

“I don’t recognize that,” Fantasy said. “Is that…a map? Or am I mistaken?”

“It does appear to be a map,” Leif said, “but to where?”

His question remained unanswered, and the only sound was the muffled shrieks of 8 Ball in the jar.