《Realm of Atonement | Portal Progression Fantasy》


 Chapter One - Batter Up

    Reid ducked, expecting the blow, and let it sail past his ear. With a grace born from years of brawling in the streets and twice as many self-defense lessons, he swung out a leg, striking his attacker¡¯s shin and knocking him to the ground. Before the man could retaliate, Reid struck again, blue eyes locked on his target. A grin spread across his face when the heavy blow collided with the man¡¯s kneecap, and something crumpled beneath his steel¡ªtoed boot. His assailant¡¯s sharp cry cut abruptly short when Reid delivered a second blow to the man¡¯s head, and the man slumped to the ground.


    A distant expression crossed his face as Reid looked at the fallen thug, nudging the prone form with one toe. The guy was breathing, at least, the soft rasping breaths a sure sign his attacker had sustained at least a few broken ribs from their altercation. Not that Reid cared. Although killing someone wouldn¡¯t be good for his father¡¯s re-election campaign, if the man died, Reid wouldn¡¯t bat an eye.


    He deserved it.


    For a split second, Reid allowed himself a moment to catch his own breath, backing up as he surveyed the alley. Four men still surrounded him, blocking his escape in the narrow dead end passage. He swiped a bloody hand across his face, noticing his tender lower lip had already started swelling with pain. He flashed a bloody grin, reveling in the rush of adrenaline coursing through his battered body as he tried to appear more intimidating than he felt. If this carried on much longer, his father¡¯s re-election campaign would have more to worry about than a dead thug.


    ¡°C¡¯mon now, fellows. Why don¡¯t we talk this out?¡± He said, stalling. Outnumbered and cornered, his only hope was for backup, but no one knew he was here, let alone his current predicament. He needed time to come up with a plan.


    His opponents seemed intent on pushing him into a corner, and without a way out, Reid took another step back, colliding with the brick wall as panic rose in his chest. Pain radiated from his side, and he pressed tentative fingers to the area, wincing when his probing fingers found a tender spot beneath his right ribcage. A dark bruise was probably forming already, the result of a lucky blow from his last opponent.


    ¡°You know this won¡¯t end well for you when the police arrive.¡± Reid racked his brain, desperately trying to come up with something, anything, that would get him out of this alley alive.


    A man stepped out from behind his three assailants, and his stomach sank.


    Their leaders.


    ¡°You think it will be any better for you? A rich bastard like you, caught making a deal in the slums? That father of yours will cast you aside the second you tarnish his image.¡±


    Reid frowned, his gaze darkening as the man¡¯s words sunk in.


    ¡°You really think the police will believe the lies of some thug over the newly elected Chief Prosecutor¡¯s son?¡±


    A grin spread across the man¡¯s face, so wide it was almost touching the long, puckered scar on his cheek.


    ¡°And how long will the Chief Prosecutor¡¯s reputation last once the media publicizes his son¡¯s crimes?¡±


    Reid froze.


    ¡°How disappointed would they be to find out his only son is in a gang doing drugs? Such a tragic headline that would be.¡± He paused, his grin taking on a wild pleasure. ¡°Respected prosecutor¡¯s son found dead after an overdose.¡±


    Cackling loudly, he advanced slowly, like a predator stalking its prey.


    ¡°You¡¯ll be making the front page, and you won¡¯t even be around to enjoy it. Truly, what a shame. The media will have a field day.¡± The man slipped a folded square of paper from his pocket and waggled it in the air.


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard this stuff is quite good. Don¡¯t worry, you won¡¯t even notice when I strangle you.¡± His men closed the gap, fanning out to prevent their quarry from slipping through.


    Reid growled, glancing around for an escape route, but there was none. Against one or two opponents, he fared well enough, but if all four came at him at once, he didn¡¯t stand a chance. His only way out was past the thugs. Desperate, he looked around the alley for something to use as a weapon. Not for the first time, he cursed himself for refusing Kilbern¡¯s offer to accompany him. If he hadn¡¯t been so cocky, the situation he found himself in never would have happened.


    Light dancing on the bricks caught his eye, and he spun on his heel, snatching the metal lid off a trashcan and brandishing it like a makeshift shield. Not waiting for the men to advance, Reid charged, shoving the first man into a wall and smacking the next with the edge of the lid. It bent easily, crumpling around the man¡¯s head like a giant soda can. Cursing, he tossed it aside just as the third man tackled him to the ground amidst the discarded glass soda bottles. The broken glass dug into his back and the breath burst from his lungs when his assailant¡¯s fist slammed into his stomach. Before Reid could catch his breath or get to his feet, two more men swarmed him, their blows raining down relentlessly.


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    A hard blow landed on his ribs, and something cracked. Reid gasped as pain blossomed in his chest. Suddenly, it was difficult to breathe. He wheezed, every scant breath sending a fresh wave of pain shooting through his body.


    Their leader stepped forward, mercilessly grinding his foot into Reid¡¯s injured side, and Reid fought back a weak grimace as blackness encroached on his vision. His teeth creaked from the force, the fingers of his good hand digging into his palm in an effort to stay conscious.


    One breath at a time.


    Reid tried to collect himself, feigning a groan. His wounds hurt like hell, but he refused to give the bastards the satisfaction.


    They wouldn¡¯t get him that easily.


    Another moment, another breath in, and he lashed out, a shard of glass clenched in his white knuckled grip. Blood threatened to loosen his grip, but Reid fought against the pain, forcing himself to tighten his fingers as he drove it across his assailant¡¯s face.


    The victim¡¯s scream tore through the alley, echoing off the walls as the man staggered back, clutching his forehead. Blood dripped freely between his fingers, a long, gaping gash appearing above the man¡¯s eye.


    Taking advantage of their shock, Reid scrambled to his feet, shoving past the men before their astonishment faded. He clutched his chest, forcing his legs to take one shaking step after another, and after a few steps, he broke into a trot. The men were hot on his heels, their shouts chasing him almost as loudly as the pounding of his own heartbeat. The entrance of the alley was only a few feet away. If he could just ¡ª¡ª


    The hollow thrum of a bat whizzed through the air, striking him square in the back. Reid dropped like a log, spots dancing in his vision, and his ears rang with a high-pitched shriek. He curled in on himself as blows rained down on him, each harder than the last. After what felt like ages, the menacing words of their leader cut through the frenzied blows and the attack subsided.


    A foot once again pressed against his battered ribs, and Reid groaned, weakly clutching at the limb to push it away. This time, however, he could not get away. The man¡¯s foot twisted, digging between his ribs as the pressure increase. Sharp, searing pain flooded his chest as bones gave way with a dull, throbbing crack.


    Eyes bright with pain, Reid could do nothing but wheeze as they grabbed him, hauling him up by the arms. Spots danced in his vision.


    ¡°Bring him.¡±


    Panic surged through him, giving strength to his battered body. Reid wrenched from their grip, dashing into the road on weary limbs. Blaring horns screamed at him, but he kept stumbling forward, weaving through the road as one car after another screeched to a stop in front of him. Drivers honked and yelled from their windows, but he ignored them.


    Getting hit by a car was better than whatever those thugs had planned.


    For him.


    And for his family.


    The worst that would happen to him was death.


    Reid staggered, nearly colliding with a black sedan as it skid to a halt beside him. The passenger door flung open and someone dragged him in before he could register what happened. He turned, ready to kick at the half-open door to escape, before silver cuff links on the arm holding him back caught his attention.


    Seconds later, the door slammed behind him and the driver floored it, tires squealing as they sped away.


    Reid sagged in the seat, clutching his side as he breathed a careful sigh of relief.


    ¡°Are you alright?¡± Kilbern asked, his eyes equally angry and concerned. The man reached for Reid¡¯s face, turned it to the side for a better look at the growing bruise on his cheek.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡±


    Reid brushed his hand away, wincing and exhaling a ragged breath when the movement jostled his broken ribs.


    Kilbern¡¯s brows rose, fixing him with a knowing look.


    ¡°You confronted them, didn¡¯t you?¡±


    Reid glared back.


    ¡°Of course. What else did you expect!?¡±


    ¡°I expected you to be rational. I expected you to call the police, like any sensible person would. Especially one whose father will be Chief Prosecutor in two weeks.¡± The man shook his head, clicking his tongue in disapproval. ¡°What were you thinking, going alone?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t have a choice. They would have killed him, Kilbern. You know they would. Even with my father greasing the wheels, what good would it do? The police would need time to investigate if they wanted the judge to issue a warrant. They can¡¯t just barge in and start throwing accusations. Even if they acted on their own, they could only hold the bastards for forty-eight hours, and by then Carter would be dead.¡±


    Kilbern placed a hand on Reid¡¯s shoulder, mindful of the many bruises lurking beneath his disheveled clothes.


    ¡°I know how much you care about Carter, but they won¡¯t kill their bargaining chip so easily. There¡¯s no need for you to take matters into your own hands.¡±


    Reid only half listened to the man¡¯s words, his vision blurring more than normal without his glasses. Kilbern¡¯s outline grew increasingly fuzzy, and it became harder to make out the man¡¯s outline.


    Had they added a mirror, or was he seeing double?


    ¡°You look pale. Are you sure you¡¯re alright?¡±


    Reid answered the question by hunching over, dry heaving, as he struggled to focus on the black rubber mats under his feet. He clutched at his pounding head, the pressure thundering in his skull like his deadbeat old pickup.


    ¡°Reid. Reid, look at me.¡±


    Kilbern grabbed his shoulder, and Reid swallowed a cry of pain as he flinched away, barely able to focus on the man¡¯s voice.


    ¡°Yeah?¡± His voice slurred, and he pulled away from the man¡¯s grasp to wretch on the floor again.


    Vaguely, he could hear Kilbern yelling his name and the car revving, hopefully speeding to a hospital, but Reid found he could no longer keep his eyes open.


    With any luck, his father wouldn¡¯t scold him too much when he woke up.

 Chapter 2.1 - Do It Yourself

    The moment Reid opened his eyes, a nagging sense of unease washed over him as several facts became blatantly clear. He was not at the hospital, nor was this one of their family estates.


    Had someone abducted him?


    Chills racked his body despite the cloying heat and Reid hugged himself for warmth, distantly realizing that although the scent of rotting eggs was almost overpowering, he didn¡¯t catch even a whiff of blood from his clothes. Did someone clean them? It was too dark to tell. He sat up, craning his neck to stare at the emptiness above him, and regretted the decision when a fresh wave of throbbing pain burst through his skull. Thoughts raced through his mind as Reid clamped his eyes shut and waited for the throbbing to end.


    What was wrong with the sky? He had seen nothing but darkness, an empty black void. There had been no stars, no clouds, just the vague sense of nothingness.


    Where was he?


    Had he escaped to a cave or something?


    As the pain faded, Reid opened his eyes and looked around, his confusion mounting at the bizarre sight. He sat in a field surrounded by tall stalks of what looked like yellow grass. Was that wheat? He frowned, rising stiffly to his feet to see over the waist high growth. Behind him, a river split the field in two, winding through the fields to pass between two clusters of towering rock formations. A single, unmanned boat swayed on the tranquil water, drifting towards him as if pulled by an invisible force. At first glance, the boat appeared sturdy, but as the boat drew closer, Reid realized it couldn¡¯t be. The wood looked aged, weathered and brittle by the passage of time. Deep gouges ran along its length and a broken oar protruded from the back.


    Reid stared wide eyed as seconds later, the boat glided into the bank and a hooded figure appeared at its helm. A lantern hung from the figure¡¯s left hand, golden light shining from within foggy glass.


    What on earth was going on?


    Seeing no other option, he warily approached the stranger, eyes glued to the skeletal fingers clasped around the lantern¡¯s base. All he could do is pray the man wasn¡¯t behind his abduction.


    ¡°Excuse me, can you tell me where I am?¡±


    Reid followed the hooded figure¡¯s gaze to the river¡¯s edge, where he could just make out a cluster of lights.


    ¡°Your answer lies beyond the river.¡±


    Not a single bridge crossed the still water, and while it looked shallow enough to wade across, Reid haltingly turned back to the hooded man.


    ¡°Would you mind giving me a lift?¡±


    The figure nodded.


    Reid stepped inside without a second thought, his gaze glued to the lights in the distance. In this situation, the faster he could get across, the better. Whoever had taken him, he doubted a man barely more than skin and bones had anything to do with it, and he didn¡¯t want to be weighed down by wet clothes should he encounter his abductor. Reid felt a little guilty for dragging the boatman into his mess, and when they reached the other side, he reached for his pocket, praying his wallet was still there.


    The boatman held up a skeletal hand, stopping him.


    ¡°There is no need. The fee has already been paid.¡±


    Reid¡¯s jaw tightened as he stepped onto shore, wondering if he had misjudged the boatman. Was he working for the Spades, or one of his father¡¯s campaign rivals?Before he could confront the man, a woman cleared her throat behind him.


    Shuffling back with wide eyes, heart hammering in his throat, Reid tore his attention from the boatman and spun to face the newcomer. He¡¯d thought he had pretty good hearing. Something had to make up for his crappy eyesight, but she appeared out of nowhere. He didn¡¯t hear the steady tap-tap-tap of her stiletto heels on the paved ground, nor the impatient clicking of her pencil. The hair rose on the back of his neck and down his arm as a shiver swept through his body.


    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    How had he not noticed her?


    The woman¡¯s black robes hugged her body, covering all but her shoulders, and flowed around her tall, slender frame like a sheet of silk. He grimaced, realizing he¡¯d walked right into a trap. She probably hired the boatman to bring him here. He braced himself for a fight,


    The woman smiled, but it didn¡¯t reach her cold eyes.


    ¡°Welcome to DiyU. Congratulations, you¡¯re dead.¡±


    Reid choked, his thoughts stuttering to a halt.


    ¡°What do you mean, I¡¯m dead?¡±


    He glanced around, searching for a hidden camera. Was this all just some prank?


    Reid looked himself over, his hands roving across his body before freezing on the back of his head. There was no blood. If he¡¯d been in a coma, the lack of wounds would make sense. Had Kilbern planned this after the doctors released him from the hospital?


    He shook his head.


    No.


    Even Kilbern wouldn¡¯t do something this elaborate to prove a point. The last time, Reid had been a child, and his ¡°kidnappers¡± locked him in what he later discovered was one of the family¡¯s vacation estates. Kilbern had thought it best to demonstrate the hard way what happened if Reid became too trusting. Plenty of people had a grudge against his father, and would see Reid as an easy way to blackmail him.


    He sucked in a shaky breath, glancing at the river once more, realizing Kilbern¡¯s lessons were the least of his worries. Now that he looked again, the water had a decidedly yellow tint to it.


    Reid swallowed hard.


    ¡°You must be joking. Look at me. I¡¯m fine. There¡¯s no way I¡¯m dead!¡±


    Despite his frantic outburst, her dark eyes never left the clipboard in her hands. Long, pointed nails scratched along the paper as she flipped through the stack, searching for something.


    ¡°Says here you got beat to shit before you kicked the bucket. A right nasty blow to the head. That ringin¡¯ any bells?¡±


    Reality struck him like the blow to his head, and Reid staggered from the memory. A jagged wheezing breath caught in his chest as he put together the pieces, recognizing the field, the river and the boatman for what they were, as well as the state of his own body. He felt no broken bones. His head no longer ached, and the nausea plaguing him in the car had vanished.


    Gut wrenching certainty tore through the pit of his stomach. This wasn¡¯t one of Kilbern¡¯s lessons, and it was too real to be a dream.


    He¡¯d never once remembered his dreams in the past, anyway.


    He really was dead.


    As if she could hear his inner turmoil, the woman looked up, her almond-shaped eyes peering above the clipboard to regard him with a mixture of condescension and annoyance.


    ¡°Yes, yes, it¡¯s all very shocking, isn¡¯t it? Best come to terms with it quickly. Death waits for no one and I have a lot more where you came from, so let¡¯s get through this smoothly, shall we?¡±


    Her tone was brisk, and she promptly spun on her heel to march down the stone path. He could only trail after her like a lost duckling.


    Reid followed her in silence for a few minutes, his anxiety growing with every step. If he was dead, why did he feel so¡­ normal? Shouldn¡¯t he feel more, well, dead?


    And where were they going?


    To keep his mind off the steadily growing list of questions ready to burst from his lips, Reid watched the boat and its occupant float along the river as they walked, until finally, he could take the silence no longer.


    ¡°What the hell is going on? Where are we going?¡±


    Slowing to a stop, the woman turned around, lips twitching. She drank in his confusion, clearly amused, before pointing a slender finger toward the bank.


    ¡°You should thank Charon for seeing you safely across the River of Oblivion. Not everyone receives the honor.¡±


    The boatman returned to the other side just as an old woman approached the river. A skeletal hand gestured to the boat, but the old woman shook her head, wading into the river¡¯s embrace almost eagerly. Her features eased into a peaceful expression, and by the time she had crossed the river, Reid had to tear his gaze away, unable to meet the woman¡¯s now vacant eyes.


    His eyes narrowed, turning back to glare at the woman with the clipboard. She still hadn¡¯t answered his question, and he really hated riddles.


    ¡°Hudson and the others deal with new arrivals. You want answers? Talk to him.¡± She huffed, pointing to several long lines of people further ahead, where the yellow wheat stalks gave way to a stone path.


    ¡°At least tell me where we are. Is this supposed to be the afterlife?¡±


    The woman¡¯s lips thinned in irritation, but she didn¡¯t ignore him this time.


    ¡°Not quite. As I said before: Welcome to Diyu. Otherwise known as Hell.¡±