《Hollow Hunt》


 Chapter 1: Graveyard Robbery

    Getting put in the ground was the final nail in the coffin.


    I groaned at each turn of the winch, fresh blood pooling along the casket¡¯s base. My killers had bickered back and forth as they dug the grave, more concerned with the depth than my feeble attempts to groan for help. Regrettably, they had a right to be untroubled. Two hundred yards in every direction dull, monotone stone markers advertised the dearly departed. I doubted any of their occupants would be raising a skeletal hand in my defence.


    I¡¯d come to visit my father. Each week saw a new set of flowers on the gravestone, a routine that¡¯d been ongoing for months. I would say a few kind hearted words, add the tulip or rose to the pile, and leave all before the sun had risen. Tonight should have been no different.


    It only took two raucous burglars, shovels slung over their shoulders, to fuck me over for good.


    This deep into the ground, the only light came from the faint glow of the worms squirming through open cracks in the coffin, feeding off the blood leaving my body. Like moths to a flame the tiny little vampires crawled over my chest and arms, honing in on the wounds. Stab wounds to be precise as apparently, unbeknownst to me, every proper burglar likes to carry a serrated dagger in their back pocket. The two disheveled men, barely more than young adults, had taken one long look at me before punching me full of holes.


    I can¡¯t say what I was more shocked by: the glint of coin and jewelry overflowing from their pockets or the sharp, electric pain as a long-handled knife found a new home in my chest.


    Another arduous turn of the winch and I felt the entire coffin shudder. My killers had gone through the effort of replacing the old occupant with yours truly, closing the lid shut while I attempted to yell myself hoarse. I screamed, I hollered, I shouted to the heavens in a voice tinged with pain and fear. Or rather, I did all of those and more in my head. What came out of my mouth was nothing more than a few rasping coughs and a trail of red, bloody drool. Getting your lungs stabbed was not goods for the vocals.


    With an unsteady hand - agonizingly slow - I raised a hand to the lid of my wooden prison. The cool, rough wood refused to budge as I feebly battered against it. I lost count of the strikes a minute later, my only sense of progress a puny dent and bloody splinters.


    Another quiver of the coffin. That would be the assholes filling in their sole witness. I could only faintly make out mumbles and abrupt laughs now, each new shovelful of dirt blocking out my last link to the world above. A part of me grew colder when the noises finally came to a standstill. Whether that was from a sad sense of longing or the continuous loss of blood I had no idea. More than likely the latter, judging by the increasing swarm of worms.


    As it turned out, being buried alive gives a man time to think. Looking back on it, confronting those graverobbers probably wasn¡¯t in my best interest; all that I could consider at the moment was that something had to be said, and I was the someone to do it. Father would be proud that I¡¯d grown a pair of balls right before I died at the very least. Mother, well, she¡¯d been out of the picture for years. I hoped she¡¯d just be angry I was so damn filthy.


    I glanced at one of the larger pile of worms huddling around my feet. Sure enough they were gorging happily on my blood, crawling over a metal crucifix. Wait, what the hell? I did a double take, making sure the cross wasn¡¯t just some side effect of extreme blood loss. Nope, definitely real. Stretching out with my left foot I dragged the cross within arms reach. To say it was mundane would be doing the cross a disservice. Besides the surprisingly heavy weight I couldn¡¯t detect any engravings or markings. A discarded keepsake of the coffin¡¯s old resident? I guess my killers weren¡¯t particularly religious men.


    I moved to clutch the cross to my chest, some shoddy semblance of a prayer running through my mind.


    A burst of sound was my reward.


    ¡®Imminent expiration of new host detected. Admittance has been accepted. Transcribe alias now.¡¯


    ¡°Gr...great, I guess I am losing my mind.¡± I shivered, acutely aware of just how cold I¡¯d really gotten. The cross seemed to sense the slight movement, letting out a soft glow not unlike the moving worms around me.


    What, it wants me to sign my name? I stared dumbly at the metal as another hacking cough wracked my body. What the hell, it¡¯s not like things could get any worse. Moving a trembling finger over the cross I painted each letter in a deep red, silently thankful for the short name my parents had given me.


    ¡®Jair Ornholm recognized. Transfer in progress...¡¯ By now all I could make out were faint shadows. That too coalesced into darkness a few moments later, leaving me with nothing but my own labored breathing and the echo of sound counting down.


    ---


    The one thing I did not expect after getting stabbed to death was to open my eyes. It was the cold that I noticed first. That, and the oppressive darkness which surrounded me at every angle.


    I pushed up with my hands, testing for the coffin¡¯s lid and meeting no resistance. It had been there only a minute before, hadn¡¯t it? I raised myself up slowly and took a long look around, as much as the lack of light would afford. Tall, grey slabs of stone rose about me like a pale prison, broken up by hints of moss and dirt. Crooked stairs rose up and out of sight to my left, extending away from a solitary sarcophagus that three of me could never hope to fill.


    The hard rock under my feet was cool to the touch as I took a tentative step forward. Circular engravings marked with strange patterns covered the sarcophagus. On top rested a matching stone lid, the enormous, bulky cover shifted off-center - just enough for a bony white arm to pass through, draping along the rim haphazardly. A set of dull blue rings dangled from each finger, hand closed tight around a dagger. Compact and wicked sharp, with a hilt that begged to be held.


    Elaborate couldn¡¯t begin to describe the weapon. Unlike everything else in the room, it caught the faintest shred of light and glowed with a metallic sheen. I ignored my racing thoughts and reached out, prying the bony hand away to take the dagger in my own. The blade responded in an instant with a quick, sharp thrum. I almost dropped it in shock as a block of text sprung up only a moment later.


    Ornate Dagger


    A dagger laid to rest with the dead. The gaudy jewels and painted metal dignify the passing of a lord.


    Protection had been the first thing on my mind when I¡¯d grabbed the dagger. Even though this wasn¡¯t the coffin those bastards had buried me in, they could still be roaming about. That thought was dashed away after I laid eyes on the glowing words, as much a confirmation I was no longer on Earth as the unmarred skin on my body.


    I stared dumbstruck as the glow lit up the room, highlighting the stark absence of deep puncture wounds. In my head I could still see the graverobber¡¯s impassive expression as he stuck me like a pig. It couldn¡¯t have all been some twisted dream, right?


    The soft light from the text only added to the mystery. My makeshift torch hovered silently as I took in the entire room again, finally settling on the ascending stairs. At the top of the steps was a rusted metal gate, its iron bars shut tight. Another long dead figure slumped against the gate, helmeted head lolling back. I clutched the dagger tighter and stepped around the text towards the body.


    This close, it was easy to make out the pile of bones peeking through gaps in the decayed breastplate and leather. The body looked - at first glance - to be carrying nothing of note, save for the sword sheathed at its hip. It took me a moment to notice the key hanging from its neck. A way out of this bizarre tomb, then? Remembering my shock from touching the knife I reached out slowly, squeezing a hand through the bars.


    I watched as the old box of text disappeared and another, more detailed one reformed.


    Portcullis Key


    This key, given to only the most trusted of guardians, was forged with a singular purpose. Possessing a unique groove along the pin and collar, it grants admission and escape from the master¡¯s crypt.


    Who was this lord, and the knight sworn to protect him? There may be answers tucked away, though one must forge ahead to find them.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    I knew I should be looking for a deeper meaning in the words, but all I could focus on was my mounting confusion. Where the hell had the robbers gone? Why were my wounds miraculously healed? Worst of all, and as far as I could discern, I wasn¡¯t on the same planet. That was going to make the hopeful trek back home, well¡­ impossible.


    The key was a start, at the very least. I brought it up to a small latch along the far edge of the bars, and it inserted without any resistance.


    Turning the key was another matter entirely. I twisted it hard with one hand without success. Catching my breath, I grabbed the key again with both hands and pushed, nearly stumbling forward as the latch gave with a resounding click.


    Nothing happened. Had I turned the key the wrong direction? I was sure I heard the lock give, had felt the grooves all slide into place. Maybe if I pulled it back out and tried again I -


    A groan of metal echoed from the ceiling. Flecks of rust and grime floated through the air as the iron bars rose in an instant. Even with the gate now open, I was hesitant to continue further. With two corpses around me alone there were bound to be others, more alive and ready to tear me limb from limb.


    In the end, it was the smell that pushed me forward. The lord and his knight had been dead for a long time, and I couldn¡¯t get away from their decayed husks fast enough.


    I made my way past the gate with the dagger clutched tight in one hand, sticking to the shadows, and arrived in a wide open hallway. Unlit torches lined the walls on either side, broken up every few feet by recesses carved deep into the stone. They housed nothing besides torn paintings and cobwebs, save for some rusted weapons and pieces of armor.


    Those weapons scraped loudly against the ground as a cloaked figure moved down the hall. I held my breath, watching closely. Dressed in a tattered black hood it was hard to discern who or what this person was. The cloak was large enough to mask their build, but I could still make out the hint of a belt peeking through the bottom.


    They didn¡¯t appear to be carrying a weapon, though I couldn¡¯t be certain. That cloak concealed too much in its folds. A sword or dagger strapped to the belt, perhaps? I looked closer as he, she, they moved past another alcove, unaware of my presence. It was a difficult decision. Walk up to the person and ask for assistance, or lay back and risk losing my one source of help in this new world.


    I itched to step out of the shadows and call out to the hooded figure. Come on, I thought. You¡¯ve got one chance, Jair, don¡¯t blow it now. If I¡¯m right this can all be over soon.


    The stranger made the dilemma easy for me. One second they were shambling away, the next I was staring wide-eyed at a face not even a diehard mother could love. Rotted teeth filled a lopsided jaw nearly split in two. Grayish, almost black skin was torn to ribbons, sagging behind strands of wispy white hair. Hideous couldn¡¯t begin to describe the ghoulish figure.


    The ghoul snarled, a low, drawn-out howl, and charged back down the hall. I had just enough wits to lift the dagger up before it was on me. My hands shook from the impact as the metal sank into its sternum. Anyone back home would have curled up in agony with a knife in their chest. The ghoul only struggled harder, and it was all I could do to hold onto the dagger as it¡¯s long, sinewy arms found purchase.


    My shoulders groaned under the vice-like grip. It was strong. Far too strong, for a walking corpse that I outweighed twice over. I bunched my legs and kicked out, hoping to gain some distance.


    There was a wet squelch, blood fountained out, and the ghoul flew back, crashing into the opposite wall with the dagger back in my hands. I¡¯d bought myself a few seconds, but that wouldn¡¯t keep it down for long.


    I stood up hesitantly. With no avenue of escape, and no knowledge of my surroundings, I had one option. It would be futile to run away from a living corpse that never tired. This was a chance to buy myself some time, if only to prolong the inevitable.


    I shoved my racing thoughts aside and leapt after the ghoul. Back on its feet, the ghoul let out another drawn out howl. I responded by planting the dagger through its arm, where it lay stuck to the wall, quivering in tune to the ghoul¡¯s frantic thrashes. Not giving it a chance to recover I stood, wiped the blood from my face, and stumbled back down the hall, using the wall for support.


    The gate was still open when I rounded the corner. Thank god for that. I passed by the prone knight and knelt by the key. This foolhardy plan had one chance at success. I felt like an idiot kneeling there, hairs on my neck prickling as I thought of the ghoul which was still howling down the hall.


    How many more of these undead were around? I couldn¡¯t imagine the struggle had gone unheard. Another moan echoed down the hall, followed by the pang of metal hitting the floor. If there was any luck in this world I needed it now. Living corpses with freakish strength were bad enough; add a brain to the mix and you had the perfect killing machine.


    The next howl was closer, just around the bend. It took every ounce of courage I had to stay inside the enclosed crypt.


    I noticed the mangled arm first as the ghoul burst into sight, almost making me jump. I held the key tight, gauging the distance between us. My timing would have to be impeccable, and the ghoul too slow to react.


    It crossed to the knight in a blur, then reached out to tear me apart. I waited until its bloody hand was a foot away before yanking the key to the left. What goes up, you bastard, must come¡­ down. The ghoul¡¯s head burst like a ripe melon as a pair of iron bars skewered it to the floor.


    Blood pooled beneath my feet as I watched it kick and spasm.


    That had been far too close for comfort. Another second, or if the key had gotten stuck, and I¡¯d have signed my death warrant.


    ¡°Hot damn, kid, you sure know how to party.¡± I turned to the new voice in shock. The man was covered head to toe with scraps of mismatched armor and leather. Cords of rope wrapped around his chest and arms like vines, adorned with countless items. They sagged beneath rusted swords and daggers, vials of glass, parcels of paper and sharpened bones. I looked closer as he moved to stand beyond the gate, though I found myself now staring at the haul on his back. If the bulging pack was any indication, this man took being a hoarder to a whole new level.


    My heart was thumping, and it was all I could do to bite down the flood of fear from the confrontation. The near death experience had not been good for my nerves.


    ¡°Takes me back to my first scrap with those rotting arseholes. Wasn¡¯t as quick, mind you. Dashed its brains out across the floor like some wild mosaic.¡± There was a long, uncomfortable pause after he spoke. To say I was confused at the man¡¯s introduction would be an understatement. Finally, the hoarder sniffed. ¡°Well, you going to keep mourning those corpses? That clever trick of yours sounded off like a beacon. I¡¯d wager we have four, maybe five minutes before more show up.¡± He turned, tightening down the straps across his broad back before walking away.


    As I turned the key to follow, I glanced down at the ghoul, deep holes still pooling blood out from the skull. I found myself oddly pleased.


    What the hell? I thought. This place must getting to me. No way was that stunt anything but scary. I hurried to follow down the hall, passing the familiar alcoves. Rows of weapons and fallen torches rested in the darkness, knocked down from the ghoul¡¯s attempt to get free. The ornate dagger that had saved my life lay apart, discarded and alone, a coat of red lining the metal¡¯s surface. I slowed down to pick it up before tucking it in my jacket pocket. At least the burglars hadn¡¯t taken my clothes after stabbing me.


    In the distance, the hoarder had stopped beneath a lit torch, where it cast shadows against a stout wooden door that looked sturdier than the stone surrounding it.


    ¡°Home sweet home, kid,¡± the man said. ¡°Let¡¯s get you settled in before the tirade of questions start.¡± I closed my mouth shut at the words. It was impossible to keep all the thoughts storming through my mind straight, but I made sure to not interrupt. Mass collection aside, the man exuded both confidence and a sheer intensity that commanded respect.


    I tore my eyes away and joined the man. He sighed to himself as he fished out a set of keys, more a hunk of metal held together with a row of leather. I lost track after counting for a full minute. ¡°Damn it all,¡± he said. ¡°Should have organized it ages ago. This place has more locks than a cathelic girls boarding school.¡±


    The room he revealed after the door finally opened was not what I was expecting. Around each corner of the spacious interior lay rows of tables and shelves, full to the brim with additional items. Light shone from torches and candles, and with the addition of a makeshift fire pit, there wasn¡¯t anywhere for shadows to hide. A bed sat in the middle of the room amidst scattered papers and notes, which a third figure occupied.


    He stood up as we walked in, and it was all I could do to not stare at the bloody bandages around his arm. They failed to hide a withered arm and too-thin hand, the skin as grey as the ghoul I¡¯d just killed. ¡°No way,¡± he said. ¡°I thought I heard something down the hall. We¡¯re not alone, Kage!¡±


    ¡°Knew those ears of yours would come in handy,¡± Kage, my rescuer, said absently. "Look, why don¡¯t you take a seat and we can get this round of Jeopardy started.¡±


    ¡°You too, Jair. We might be here a while, don¡¯t want you fading on me mid-sentence.¡± I jumped in shock at the remark. How did he know my name?


    ¡°A better man than myself might tell you this is all sunshine and rainbows. People love that cozy feeling that lies give them.¡± Kage eyed the only barren wall in the room. I could faintly make out ordered lines next to a list of days and months. ¡°Diabolical doesn¡¯t begin to describe the past two years I¡¯ve spent running around with my pants around my arse.¡±


    He turned, moving to stand before us at the bed. The glint of white teeth shone through his trimmed goatee stretched around a wide grin.


    ¡°Fortunately for you two, I¡¯ve learned how to survive. Put the three of us together, well, we¡¯ll be the goddamn three musketeers before the week is through. You can take that to the bank.

 Chapter 2: A Dash of Healing

    The brain has a remarkable ability to process information. Mine had been in overdrive since the moment I¡¯d woken in the crypt. Hearing Kage¡¯s nonchalant speech, as if this insane ordeal was another walk in the park, left it stunned and with far too many questions.


    I stared numbly at the hoarder and his companion. How did we all get here, I thought. Did they both die beforehand? But we¡¯re all standing here in the flesh, and I¡¯m positive this isn¡¯t some twisted dream. This has to be something else. The way back home--


    Kage¡¯s friend interrupted my train of thought. ¡°Jair, was it? My name is Bellamy. Nice to see another friendly face around here.¡± He extended his hand, though stopped short at my hesitation. The withered and pallid limb was even more shocking up close. ¡°Right, sorry about that. Still not used to the zombie arm myself.¡±


    I smiled, returning the handshake. There was none of the weakness I¡¯d expected from the grievous deformity. In fact, the man¡¯s grip was strong, more powerful even than the ghoul¡¯s vicelike grasp. ¡°Can I ask how it happened?¡± I said in vague surprise.


    Bellamy didn¡¯t answer at first, his cheerful expression uneasy. I was about to offer an apology when he laughed and continued. ¡°I woke up in a courtyard not too far from here. First thing I noticed when I looked around was someone stooping beneath a tree.¡±


    ¡°A ghoul?¡± I asked. Bellamy nodded his head, reaching down to cradle the bandaged limb. ¡°I didn¡¯t question the tattered cloth and leather it wore, or the grey skin that was exposed. All I could think about was my confusion and a need for answers.¡± His dark brown eyes darted around the room as if playing back the memory.


    ¡°Before I¡¯d spoken two words the ghoul was on me.¡± Bellamy studied the bandages for a moment before turning to Kage. ¡°Ran into Kage when I was fleeing for my life. He brought me back here and cleaned the wound. This was about an hour ago.¡±


    That would have been just after I woke up, though it still didn¡¯t explain the arm¡¯s stark transformation.


    Kage pulled up a chair in front of us, letting out a long drawn-out sigh. ¡°Let¡¯s not beat around the bush here. You¡¯re infected now, thanks to those pearly whites it sunk into your arm.¡±


    ¡°What? I thought you said you stopped the infection?¡± Bellamy said, looking at Kage.


    Kage shook his head, seeming unconcerned. ¡°That arm look clean and healthy to you? No, all I did was wrap you up like a mummy and add some herbs to the mix. Halts the rot in its tracks, for a while at least.¡±


    ¡°Then what happens?¡± Bellamy asked, face a mask of worry.


    ¡°You turn,¡± Kage said matter of factly. ¡°Rot travels to the brain and changes you into one of them. Not quite dead, but you¡¯d wish you were.¡±


    I winced, remembering my fight with the ghoul. It could have just as easily been me slowly getting transformed from the inside. I tried to put it out of my mind, but that was like trying not to blink. Wait, he¡¯d said something about halting the infection¡­


    ¡°The herbs!¡± I said, relieved. ¡°We can just gather more, right?¡±


    ¡°Sure kid, no problem at all,¡± Kage said. ¡°Just have to cross a small lake filled with murderous goldfish first.¡±


    ¡°Wait,¡± I said, ¡°are you being serious?¡±


    ¡°A little less gold, maybe, but a lot more fangs,¡± Kage said.


    ¡°Great,¡± I replied. ¡°Crazy fish aside, I¡¯ve had one question eating away at me. What exactly is going on?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re all dead, for starters,¡± Kage said. ¡°You two must have bit the bullet around the same time.¡± He leaned back in his chair, looking at us in turn. ¡°Remember anything unusual beforehand?¡±


    ¡°What,¡± I said. ¡°You mean besides the graverobbers that stabbed me and put me in a coffin?¡±


    ¡°I think he¡¯s referring to the voice that appeared in our heads,¡± Bellamy added silently.


    ¡°Bingo,¡± Kage said, giving him a thumbs up. ¡°A little signature and we got whisked away.¡± He let out a small smirk as he crossed his arms. ¡°For the record Jair, that¡¯s one hell of a going away party.¡±


    ¡°Sorry,¡± I said, realizing just how annoyed I was from the ordeal. ¡°Still trying to process all of this.¡±


    Bellamy glanced at me, then at Kage. ¡°That doesn¡¯t explain how you knew our names.¡±


    ¡°Was wondering when one of you would bring that up,¡± Kage said. ¡°The voice in our heads did more than just bring us here.¡± He moved to one of the tables and picked up a rusted sword. "Everything in this shithole is like a character in a book, with its own name, description, and history."


    I almost yelled in shock as Kage flung the sword over at my feet, barely managing to catch the hilt. The familiar glow of text appeared unannounced beside my hand.


    Corroded Shortsword


    This small straight sword is common among soldiers and knights alike, only matched by the longsword. Rust and grime coat the surface, dulling the edge significantly.


    ¡°A little long winded if you ask me,¡± Kage said. ¡°Luckily, it works on people too. That includes any ghouls you¡¯re bound to run into, along with all of us.¡±


    ¡°But you never touched Jair,¡± Bellamy said, still staring at the text. This must be his first experience, I realized. At least he¡¯s taking it in stride. Can¡¯t say the same happened to me.


    ¡°Didn¡¯t need to,¡± Kage said. ¡°All it takes is a little concentration.¡± He looked at both of us in turn, pointing at Bellamy. ¡°Bellamy Beckett, 19 years old and infected with the rot.¡± Kage glanced to me next. ¡°Jair Ornholm, 20 years old, right shoulder bruised and battered.¡± I¡¯d nearly forgotten about the pain in the recent haze of events.


    I studied Kage intently, focusing hard on the mass of belongings across his chest. Nothing happened. Is there some other trick to this? The weapon descriptions came up instantly. I pushed away the thoughts, pushed away the crackle from the fire pit and Bellamy¡¯s steady exhale. All that remained was Kage¡¯s broad form.


    Kage - Age 42


    Status: Uninjured


    ---


    Cores: 28,562


    ¡°I think I got it,¡± I said. That didn¡¯t comfort me, considering most of the information seemed to be hidden away. ¡°Uh, what about these cores at the bottom. Your number is through the roof.¡±


    Kage smiled, grinning wide. ¡°That, my curious friend, is one of the few things I¡¯m still ignorant about. As far as I can tell every monster we butcher leaves behind cores. The mess of the situation is they¡¯ve done fuckall for two solid years. After a while I just stopped keeping track.¡±


    The conversation lulled to a stop as Bellamy and I took a moment to inspect the room. Now that I knew how to analyze things from a distance it was impossible to resist. A set of leather armor worn by a dying soldier in his last moments. Stacks of maps showcasing the twists and turns outside the crypt. Even a simple silver coin tucked away by the fire, once proudly owned by a wealthy nobleman. Compared to the violent venture and Kage¡¯s mysterious arrival, the details were calm and reassuring. Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    I moved to stand behind Kage, picking up the armor I¡¯d first seen. ¡°So you¡¯ve been here for two years collecting all of this? Why haven¡¯t you-¡±


    ¡°What, left? First thing I tried after I ended up here,¡± Kage said. ¡°That courtyard Bellamy mentioned is our ticket out. Only problem is the exit beyond is guarded, by something far stronger and tougher than a ghoul. Trust me kid, you don¡¯t want to tango with it.¡±


    Kage held my attention with a deep frown. ¡°All the weapons here can¡¯t put a scratch on its hide. Doesn¡¯t help that most of the arrows and blades are rusting away.¡± He waved at the armor in my hands. ¡°You¡¯ll want to put that on at least. Far sight better than a jacket against a ghoul bite.¡±


    ¡°What are we going to do then,¡± Bellamy said, standing. ¡°If there¡¯s a chance we can go back home shouldn¡¯t we take it?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± I said fervently, stepping forward. ¡°I know you said the monster is tough but we can fight it together. Lure some ghouls to it if we have to!¡±


    Kage shook his head. He continued past us towards the entrance, heavy pack shifting against his back. ¡°I made this decision a long time ago. We have to fight the battles we can make it out alive.¡±


    He walked out into the hallway. Bellamy and I stared after him in silence, the fire pit giving a cold glow to the crowded chamber.


    ---


    We made the easy decision to scramble after Kage¡¯s retreating form. Bellamy had thrown on a chainmail hauberk that draped over his gangly frame. It looked awkward and heavy, but I couldn¡¯t deny the protection the links of metal provided.


    I tightened the longsword around my waist behind them, watching warily. Kage¡¯s stride was confident and loud, but I still expected a ghoul to come howling at us around each winding bend of the halls.


    Each step took us further away from the crypt. The halls were wide but strangely weatherworn, despite the enclosed space. For the first several minutes we moved in silence, halting briefly at various intersections for signs or sounds of nearby ghouls. The way remained well lit with torches, a seemingly endless maze of stone and shadows that danced along rotted wood.


    After a while, Kage pulled up short at an open clearing. ¡°Was this the lake you mentioned earlier,¡± Bellamy asked, a little breathlessly, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow.


    Kage nodded briefly, looking as if the trek hadn¡¯t fazed him one bit despite everything he carried. ¡°Those herbs around your arm used to grow along the bank. Picked the last of them a few weeks ago before I tried my hand at diving underwater bare-ass naked.¡±


    I craned my neck, trying to peer into the depths. Murky, dark-brown water stretched away from the clearing, wrapping around an island of rock a considerable distance away. I couldn¡¯t make out anything below the surface, but the way the water ripped reminded me of the dangerous fish.


    ¡°I assume that¡¯s when you met the, uh, goldfish?¡± I said.


    ¡°Bastards went straight for my dangly bits the moment I went under. Couldn¡¯t get away fast enough,¡± Kage said.


    Great, even the fish here are out to get me.


    That made me step toward the water for some stupid reason, even though it was a clear source of danger. Maybe it was an urge to get a closer look, or an insane idea to test just how cruel my new world was. Regardless, it did feel good to know what was across the lake. Getting there seemed a task even Kage would have difficulty with.


    Bellamy¡¯s breath caught behind me, and I thought he might tell me to back away, but it wasn¡¯t that. ¡°Jair!¡± he said, pointing out towards the middle of the lake. ¡°Look!¡±


    I squinted, noticing the information window took longer to form. A delay relating to distance perhaps?


    Mutated Crill


    Engorged and twisted from the consumption of undead, these carnivorous fish flock to the deepest and darkest of water sources. Unlucky is any man or beast caught in their razor-sharp maw.


    Again I was struck dumb by the monster. Enormous didn¡¯t begin to cover it.


    Bright amber scales wrapped around a forked fin that jetted out of the water. The crill¡¯s fangs glittered in the low light as it arked through the air. Another crill followed a moment later. And another. Then half a dozen more.


    ¡°You¡¯re kidding, right? You want us to swim past that?¡± I said.


    ¡°No. I want us to row past that,¡± Kage said. Eyes still fixed on the school of crill, he pointed off to the far edge of the clearing. A broken-down boat lay tucked in the shadows, replete with a set of oars. ¡°Should be enough to get us there and back in one piece.¡±


    ¡°Won¡¯t the crill just chew through the wood?¡± Bellamy asked nervously, idling the thin boards along the hull.


    ¡°They¡¯ll ignore the boat as if we didn¡¯t exist,¡± Kage said. ¡°All we have to worry about is a hole or leak. Crill detect that, and we can kiss our asses goodbye.¡± He started toward the boat and Bellamy and I followed. Up close, it looked even more dilapidated. Decayed rope lashed most of the boards together. Twine, scraps of leather and torn cloth glued together the rest, affording a space wide enough to fit all three of us.


    He¡¯s going to get us killed, I realized. Again. And yet if what he said was true, the only sources of healing were on the island. Something that Bellamy desperately needed just to stay alive.


    Kage waited for us to climb aboard before pushing hard on the stern. I squeezed close next to Bellamy as the boat jostled forward. In this gruesome and hostile world, I half expected us to start taking on water the moment we reached the bank. With any luck we¡¯d rebuild the boat and try again another day.


    At the last second Kage clambered aboard with a curse, then grabbed an oar and shoved us the rest of the way into the water. He was strong, and Bellamy - eyes wide and frantic - stumbled to the right, his ghoul arm reaching out to clutch my knee for support. I winced at the sudden powerful pressure. This was nothing like the handshake from before.


    ¡°Sorry!¡± Bellamy said, releasing his hand. ¡°Still not used to my new strength.¡±


    ¡°That makes two of us,¡± I replied. The thought of his newfound limb having enough power to crush my knee to a pulp - much less a ghoul¡¯s skull - suddenly made me very, very nervous.


    I hurried to grab an oar, steering with mismatched strokes. Bellamy and Kage churned through the water quickly and quietly, and with their added force, it was a brief ride before the island was in full view. Coarse black rock jutted out at odd angles at the edge, encompassing a flat foundation that rested just above the waterline. Tufts of green dotted the island¡¯s surface, most low to the ground while others reached high into the air.


    Kage slowed our speed as we neared. I looked around, matching his pace, worried the crill would appear at any moment.


    A fin darted through the water alongside the boat. This close, each bright amber scale was visible, bulging like a thick carapace of plated armor. Where the mouth should have been was just an open maw, filled to the brim with serrated fangs as long as a finger.


    Worst of all, it wasn¡¯t alone.


    ¡°Umm¡­Kage,¡± Bellamy said. He stared, transfixed, as another fin broke the water¡¯s surface.


    ¡°Little busy here kid,¡± Kage responded, straining to steer the boat. The jutting rocks left little room for a safe place to dock.


    ¡°I know that, but.¡±


    ¡°What the hell has you so worked up,¡± Kage snapped, turning to face us. Then his eyes slid over to the pair of crill. ¡°I told you they won¡¯t bother us inside the boat.¡±


    Bellamy and I shared a long look of doubt before one of the crill flew out of the water. It landed in the middle of the hull with a loud thump, spraying water as it flopped around. I backpedaled away with a shout and pressed myself back against the bow, out of range of its gnashing fangs.


    Another crill arced through the air and toppled onto the first. I didn¡¯t dare look away, but I could hear Kage cursing and yelling. I was too focused on how huge they really were. A narrow boat like this couldn¡¯t hold more than a few more crill before they were at our heels.


    Then do something about it, I thought. I took a deep breath, dropping my oar and pulling the longsword out with both hands. I leaned forward precariously on one knee, putting myself at risk, and shoved the sword forward. The cramped interior gave me an easy path to the bottommost crill.


    It spasmed as the rusted metal slid into its body. I prepared to pull the blade out as a popup filled my view.


    Mutated Crill Slain


    15 Cores Obtained


    ¡°Don¡¯t just sit there!¡± Kage yelled. More crill had jumped in near his section of the boat. Foregoing a weapon, he continued to throw them away with his bare hands, most splattering against the edge of the island.


    I sliced open another as Bellamy took my discarded oar. Heedless of the fish fight around him he paddled like a man possessed. It should have been impossible to keep up the feverish pace. Still, we were flying; whatever else that ghoul had done, it looked like his stamina had been affected too.


    With one last splash of the oar the boat crashed onto the island. I skewered one last crill then leaped off, following Bellamy and Kage in an unsteady rush. The leather boots I¡¯d taken ignored the worst of the coarse rock, something that I was silently thankful for. My old, light sneakers would have fallen apart in a heartbeat.


    I shambled over behind Kage and looked back at the boat. Would it still be intact?


    A loud crack sounded in the air, and I winced, watching helplessly as our sole means off the island began to take on water. Moments later only the bow was visible, until that too sunk out of sight.


    ¡°Is everyone alright?¡± Bellamy said.


    ¡°Besides the fact we¡¯re now shipwrecked? Yeah, peachy. I mean, how much more horrible can this place get?¡± I said.


    Kage smirked before leaning back with a sigh. ¡°Nah, don¡¯t worry. It can get a lot more horrible.¡±