Chapter 184 Unseen Menace

With each step, he displayed the most timid and scared posture imaginable, hunching his wretched frame as he cautiously traversed the moisture-slickened, polished stone tiles. His puffy feet emitted a clapping sound, each footfall resonating with a moist, squishy slap.

"Ugh... The smell is bad, I just hope no angry people inside," he muttered under his breath, his voice quivering like a leaf in the wind. 

"Why does Hermit always get the dirty jobs? Stupid, stinky mess... Me just a little goblin, not a cleaner. Hmmm."

 Once he was convinced the place was safe, he reluctantly set to work. He eyed the offending feces with a disgusted grimace, his bulbous sniffer twitching. 

"Nasty stuff... Maybe if I close my eyes, it goes away. No? Okay, okay..."

From a corner, Hermit retrieved a crude tool, its purpose clear - to shovel his repugnant waste into the toilet bowl. 

As he began to shovel, his voice continued to mumble, barely coherent, "Squeaky, squeaky, dirty floor... Make it all clean, make it all gone. Maybe I should've stayed in the scary forest, reunited with my fellow goblin slaves, and away from all this mess. Goblins are not meant for this, it's the same as living in wretched breeding farms I escaped. Nope, nope."

When he was done scraping the vile remnants off the floor, he snatched a diminutive towel and dunked it into a nearby bucket brimming with water. With a wet towel in his hands, he cleaned the floors and walls. The bathroom seemed to mock him with every splash of water.

 "Splashy, splashy... Ugh, it's not going away. Maybe if I sing a goblin cleaning song... Hmmm, what's a goblin cleaning song? Oh, I knows!"

He cleared his throat with a high-pitched squeak and started to chant, nervously, "Scrub-a-dub-dub, Hermit in the tub... No, wait, that's not right. Clean, clean, scrub, scrub, goblin's work is never done... Hmm, close enough."

With each swipe of the towel, he glanced around as if expecting the bathroom to attack him.

 "No tormentor, no tormentor, just dirty floors. Goblins brave, right? Right. Oh... wait... But Hermit... Hermit not so sure."

"Ooey, gooey, yucky pooey," he mumbled, grimacing at the offensive substance on the floor.

 "Why goblins gotta clean this stuff? It should be...uh, elf's job, or something. Elves like cleaning, right? Or dwarves, they're good at making things clean. But Hermit? Hermit just good at getting into trouble."

His towel splashed into the bucket, making a sloshing sound that seemed to echo his doubts.

 "Whipe, whipe, goblin's poop. Why was Hermit not born a warrior goblin? Strong and brave, like those big ones. Instead, me here... pathetic and weak... a sniveling coward."

As he worked, his nerves remained on edge, and his eyes darted around the bathroom as if expecting a surprise attack from the filth itself.

 "Nasty, sneaky mess. You won't get the best of Hermit. No, sir. I'll clean you up real good. Maybe I'll get a treat afterward, a little goblin treat. Like... a crunchy bug or something. Or... or maybe even a cooked rat on a stick! Mmmm... rat tails..."

He paused for a moment, pondering the possibility.

 "Crunchy bug... maybe not. But something good, for sure. I earned it."

With each scrub and swish, Hermit's mumbling grew fainter, "Goblins can do anything, right? Even clean poop off the floor. Maybe... maybe it's not so bad after all."

After half an hour of grueling labor, the restroom was reborn. Hermit stood amidst the newly cleaned space, a glimmer of perverse pride in his grin, relishing his accomplishment.

"Ha! Take that, you nasty muck! Hermit's showing you who's boss," he yelped, his voice growing slightly less timid with each passing moment.

 His goblin-like pride knew no bounds, and he couldn't help but indulge in some self-congratulatory chatter.

"Look at it, just look at it!" Hermit cackled, gesturing to the sparkling restroom with grandiosity. "It's like a palace for goblins now, it is! Shiny and spotless, a true masterpiece of goblin cleaning. Hermit, you're a genius, you are! No goblin could've done this better. They should write songs about me, they should!"

He carefully placed the mop, towel, and bucket back in the corner, his trembling hands now steady with accomplishment. 

"There, all done. Hermit faced the ickiest of icks and triumphed! I deserve a goblin treat, for sure."

There remained only one task: to flush away the filth he shoveled into the toilet.

But just as he stretched his filthy goblin hand toward the toilet handle, a faint rustling sound stirred from behind him. Hermit froze, his meaty ears bricked up, and stood in the air picking up every sound. Terror washed over him like a tidal wave. His frail form shivered uncontrollably, cold sweat glistening on his mottled, dark green skin, casting eerie glimmers in the dim light.

Paralyzed by fear, he could do nothing but muster a feeble, quavering question, "Wh-what was that? Who's there? Show yourself, you... you filth-loving intruder!" His goblin voice trembled in the stillness, a pitiful creature in the face of an unseen menace.

Hermit's knees quivered like two overcooked noodles. He stuttered, "M-maybe it's just a rat. Yeah, a tiny, cowardly rat. Hermit can handle a rat. Rats ain't nothin'! I will turn around and see a small rat behind me, yes I will."

As Hermit's trembling voice quivered through the hushed restroom, an evil chuckle drifted through the stagnant air. The low, sinister laughter sent shivers down Hermit's spine, and his bulbous eyes darted in every direction, searching for the source of the dread-inducing sound.

With a wicked grin, David quietly crawled in through the same window he used to escape earlier. His features were etched with malevolence, his eyes gleaming with a sadistic amusement that sent a chill through the room. 

"Who's there?" Hermit stammered again, his voice quivering as he finally laid eyes on David.

David's grin widened, "Oh, Hermit, it's just me," he cooed mockingly, taking slow, deliberate steps toward the trembling goblin.

Hermit's world spiraled into a nightmare as he turned around timidly in an attempt to flee, his quivering lips forming the beginnings of a scream.

 "Oh no, HEL-"

But David, lightning-fast and ruthless, clamped a hand over Hermit's maw, extinguishing any hope of a cry for help. He crouched down, his sinister face leering close to Hermit's head, his hot breath wafting over the goblin's pointed ear.

 "Well, well, well," he hissed, "just like that, I've got you again, you little green freak."

With a sudden, vicious tug, David yanked Hermit's meaty ear and twisted it cruelly, keeping a vise-like grip on the goblin to prevent any chance of escape. Hermit's tiny, trembling hands clutched desperately at David's arm, trying to pull free from the suffocating restraint, but his feeble efforts proved futile. Only muffled, incoherent mumbles emerged from his gagged mouth.

"G-graaaah! Let go, big ugly! N-no! L-let go!" Hermit squeaked incoherently through the makeshift gag, a string of drool oozing from the corner of his twisted goblin mouth.

David leaned in even closer, relishing the torment, "Oh, how sweet it is, the little freak squirming to break free." 

He twisted Hermit's ear even harder, his voice dripping with venom, "Now, listen up, you miserable freak. You're going to spin a little tale for that bitch Helen and Lisanna. You'll tell them you strolled into the toilet, slipped on poop, and ended up tangled in the ropes on the door frame, and that's how you had your... accident. You'll tell them that I had absolutely nothing to do with beating you to a pulp. Is that crystal clear, you little shit?" David's malicious grin widened, anticipating Hermit's pitiful submission.

Hermit's pitiful eyes, filled with tears of pain and terror, met David's cold, unforgiving gaze. The goblin's entire body trembled under the oppressive weight of David's malevolence. He nodded frantically, or at least, as much as he could manage with David's hand still clamped over his mouth.

"Mmm-mmm-hmm," Hermit managed to mumble in agreement, the words lost in the suffocating grip of David's palm. He was a prisoner to this sadistic tormentor, his hope for mercy dwindling like a dying ember.

David's grip on Hermit's ear tightened even further, the goblin's pained whimper muffled beneath his hand. 

"Good," David sneered, "you better follow through, you miserable freak. Because if I hear even a whisper that you've blabbed about this, well... it won't be nice." David let the threat hang in the air, his twisted smile promising unspeakable horrors.

Reluctantly, David released his iron grip on Hermit's mouth and ear. The goblin gasped for breath, his body still quaking from the ordeal. David remained crouched over him, the malevolent predator, waiting for Hermit to comply with his sinister demands.

Hermit, his spirit crushed and terrorized beyond measure, managed to muster a feeble, quivering reply, "Yes, Master David, please, don't hurt me. I'll do as you say." His words were a desperate plea for mercy, a goblin broken and defeated.

But David, devoid of compassion or restraint, remained crouched beside the pitiful goblin. With a swift and devastating motion, he unleashed a punch to Hermit's gut that sunk deep into Hermit's belly with bone-crushing force, the impact so brutal that it felt as if his fist touched Hermit's very spine. The goblin crumpled to the ground, farting and gaging, writhing in agony, gasping for air but unable to draw it in. He wriggled like a fish stranded on dry land, suffocating and helpless.

David, his sneer reflecting the darkness of his soul, spoke with cruel authority, "Good. Remember this, freak. If you dare to betray me, more punches like this will find their mark, and, well... it goes without saying, you will be the target." His message was clear - Hermit would become the target of his relentless cruelty.

With a scornful scoff, David made his exit from the restroom through the window, leaving Hermit writhing in excruciating pain on the cold, unforgiving floor, clutching his smushed-in belly and struggling for breath. The goblin was now physically and emotionally broken.

As Hermit lay on the grimy restroom floor, his goblin features contorted in agony, the light in his eyes began to dim. His vision blurred as he gasped for air, but his smushed belly refused to allow even the tiniest snippet of precious oxygen into his lungs.

"Ugh... me belly... no air... Grrr... air... need air... belly's bein' mean... need... help... can't... breathe..."

Desperation filled him as he extended his tiny hand, reaching out feebly toward the restroom door. His fingers quivered but the strength to continue eluded him. 

"Air... door... help..."

With a final, futile effort, his hand fell to the cold, unforgiving floor, a lifeless appendage.

"Urggh... air... no breathy..."

In the suffocating grip of David's brutality, Hermit's world faded into darkness as he fainted, his last thoughts lost in the void of unconsciousness. The restroom remained silent, holding the secrets of the goblin's torment, as the world outside carried on, unaware of the cruelty that transpired within its walls.